Contest Entry – The Chronicle of the Frarc

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THE FRARC

Character Name: The Frarc

The Chronicle Of The Frarc

 

“Ah Ame. Come in. Come in.”

My master beckoned me inside and I stepped in, dripping rain water from my sodden cloak.
I crossed to the fire and hung the cloak on a wooden horse to dry. Erath frowned at the puddle forming beneath it but said nothing.

“A rather damp day.” I commented at the sheets of water which had been falling since dawn. I had begun to notice that I had inherited my master’s mannerisms, but that was only natural I suppose, and I Wasn’t that bothered.

“Indeed.” He hadn’t been listening to me. No change there then.
He continued to rummage through the detritus of his desk for something.
Whether or not it was what he searched for, he eventually found his pipe and tobacco pouch and this seemed to signal an end to the search. He drew his favourite chair close to the fire, lit his pipe, puffed several times reflecting and then finally acknowledged my presence.

“So. You’re here. Good. I have some work for you.” Puff. Puff. ” Get some of that loose parchment over there and a pen and ink. I want to you scribe for me.” I have no idea why I was to scribe since his writing was as good, if not better then mine, but I had long ago learnt that my job was to do what I was asked, if for no better reason than that’s what he wanted.

“What am I to scribe?” I asked.

He began to chuckle and rubbed his hands together vigorously. “This is going to be good. You’ll like this.” He was obviously very excited about whatever it was. “The Story of The Frarc.”

I was impressed. I knew that the Frarc didn’t keep their story a secret, but I hadn’t heard it and I knew that it had not yet been chronicled.

“So.” He began in his best storytelling voice, reclining into a more comfortable position from whence to orate. “Our story begins many years ago in the Yew forest, where two brothers, Frederick and Marc New, were being raised by their aunt, Stella.”

He nodded to himself that this was a good beginning, before continuing.

“Marc was a hunter, venturing forth into the forest to gather skins and meat for their livelihood. His brother remained at home and turned the skins into leather and the meat into food which they could use or sell.”

He scratched his beard in a thoughtful way and frowned as if he weren’t sure of the details.
Which was probably the case.

“Anyway.” He continued with a wave of his hands. “they lives like this for many years, and became as close as brothers can. They worked hard and reaped the profits of their labours. Life was good and their abode was protected from harm by their aunt, who was a witch with no small art.”

“A time came when Frederick, wanting to find out what his brother’s life was like roaming the forest, and against all advice, left the sanctity of their aunt’s domain and ventured forth into the forest after Marc.”

Puff. Puff. Thoughtful silence and a shaking of the head.

“Frederick was unused to roaming the forest. He was not prepared for survival in it. He could not track nor fight and was easily and quickly lost. While wandering, lost and alone, he was beset by a band of Orcs, among whom was a huge beast of an Orc, with skin the colour of blood. They fell upon him like a whirlwind of blades and he was cut down where he stood and ripped limb from limb.”

Erath peers at hid dead pipe, leans across to the fire and grabs a suitable ember with which to relight it.

“Only a few hours later Frederick’s remains.. it scarcely warrents calling a body from what I heard.. were found by his brother Marc. At first Marc wept bitter tears over his brother’s body, but gradually the hot rage of revenge began to rise in him. He unsheathed his sword and swept forth once more into the forest to pursue these attackers.”

“I don’t have a description of the battle, but it must have been fearsome.
The mighty hunter crashed into their ranks like an enraged bull and slaughtered them as if they were wheat to his scythe. Within a few minutes, I gather, they were all lying dead except of the mighty red one.”

Puff. Puff. More beard stroking and thoughtful waggling of head.

“The beast escaped from Marc, who was now to weary to track it. He was forced to rest and it is said that while he slept a vision of his brothers spirit came to him and told him they would not be parted. So Marc travelled on into the wilderness, with the spirit of his brother ever at his shoulder, and Marc knew of its presence although he could not speak to it.”

A pause to refill his pipe and relight it. “Got it all so far. Good.”

“Now, as Marc and his brother’s shade travelled the land they came across many strange peoples and creatures. Marc would fight the evil and learned from the good to whatever extent he could. After many months of travel like this, Marc happened upon the remote tribe of the Sithi. The Shaman of the Sithi people was powerful indeed and he could see the shade that followed at Marc’s shoulder. The Shaman worked a spell, weaving in all the lore of his people and utilising every power of root and berry and calling upon every spirit and totem of his tribe. When the spell was completed, Frederick’s spirit was joined with Marc in his body. Two souls in one physical incarnation.”

“But as well as a blessing, there was a Geas laid upon Marc and Frederick, a vow they had to make. A promise to the spirits and totems of the Sithi. Marc and Frederick must never shirk from the fight against evil. They must never retreat from danger whilst evil lived and they combat all the dark creatures that they found.”

I am running low on ink so I rise to get more. Erath pays no attention and simply sits staring thoughtfully into the fire.

“The road the brothers travelled continued. They were now one, but their path was not ended and many evil things must they yet face. There legends and telling of their deeds which, I believe, run to many days telling and far too much to be told here. Their mighty halberd became a symbol of hope to many small communities living in fear of the dark in those days. As they journeyed and fought they grew daily in strength and wit and cunning. Some time later.. I have no record nor knowledge of how long it was.. they met with Elberan the minstrel. The bard joined them and the three travelled together still throughout Brittannia.”

“They were mighty indeed when they met with Max Wulf and Porky and were told of the deeds and ethics of the clan. They agreed to join and lend their arm to the work of Clan Wulf.”

“So the saga of their mighty war continued under the banner of Clan Wulf, with their many new friends assisting them. True to their geas they never retreated and battled evil wherever they found it.”

“Now, time passed and their aunt Stella came looking for them. She had steeped herself even deeper into the ways of witchcraft and was now truly mighty. She had researched many ways of returning them to separate bodies and believed that she now knew how it might be accomplished.”

“She wove a spell about them and it is said the sky darkened for a week while she worked on her pacing back and forth caused the animals for miles around to scurry for cover, such was the power radiated. It is said that the very stones on which she stood cracked and remain scorched to this day, but to that I would not like to attest.”

“Once the spell was woven the body was sundered and the two spirits stood in two new bodies. But, the tail has a darker ending than even the beginning, for the spirits where not sundered. Too long they spent in one mortal shell and now they had become mixed. The new bodies were inhabited not by the original spirits of Frederick and Marc, but by the combined spirit of the Frarc. Frederick and Marc New had become the New Frarc.”

“So now our tale leads us to the present and the future leads away before us. The Frarc is two spirits made one, made into two bodies. They look the same, they act the same. They are closer than brothers, closer than twins, indeed they are one soul with two corporeal forms.”

I gather this is the end since he now relaxes into his chair, well pleased with his nights work (and no thought to my aching writing hand). I put down pen and parchment. “What would you like me to do with this?”

“Send it to Max at first light tomorrow. I believe this needs to be included in the library. We can’t have gaps now, can we? In the Wulf Chronicles? No no that would never do.”

We sit quietly and idly by the fire. It is warm and my feet are now dry.
I suppose, given fact that I am warm and dry and cozy, his next words should come as no surprise.

“We’re getting low on wood. Go outside and get some from the stack, there’s a good girl.”

I sigh and wearily don my cloak ready to face the elements again, and as I step back out into the teeth of the storm I wonder at the story of the New Frarc.

Last modified: March 28, 2011

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