The Remedial Qualities of Lamplight .1

Haydon likes his life. What's so bad about staying in his hometown and leading a safe, sheltered existence? According to his little sister Fraeya, a lot. When she gets involved with the eccentric nomadic group known as The Travellers, he knows that any plans of a quiet life are royally screwed up.
It's not long before he's dealing with the outlandish youth of the Travellers daily, of which include a depressed acrobat, an enigmatic thief, a blind swordsman, and one girl Haydon can't take his eyes off of; the dragon-tamer named Aria.
She's everything he's not - badass, adventurous, reckless, and altogether terrifying. And also irritatingly cute. Shame she hates him.
"Look here, farmboy. I'm a fighter, not a lover. What that means is if you so much as THINK about hurting my friends, I will not hesitate in bringing you down."

1.

Life in Maeltown is good.

Really, it is. Compared to what others have to deal with, I'd say we're pretty damn lucky. We have food, shelter, enough money to get by and the army on our side.

Well, more we stay out of their way and they take their anger out on the odd drunkard, but that's fine. No-one really cares about the drunkards around here.

And I'm not saying that the freezing winter's are pleasant or anything, but they're a hell of a lot better spent indoors beside a fire with family and neighbours than out there in the cold.

It makes me want to shiver just thinking about spending a winter night in the Maelscar; the forest that borders Maeltown's northern wall is dark, mysterious and - quite frankly - terrifying.

That's why it amazes me that every year without fail, the Travellers manage to traverse the Maelscar to get to us. They do get beat up pretty bad but for what it's worth, I'd give them points for just surviving.

There's a reason no-one in the village goes near that place.

The sprawling trees of the Maelscar have dark trunks - Mael is the northernmost region of our district and even in the summers, the sun is bleak and depressing. Because of this, if seen from the sky, it's said to look like a wound upon the land. Apparently, it's even more striking because on the other side of the forest, to the north, there's nothing but snow.

I can only imagine what it must look like from up there...

Of course, I wouldn't know. Really, who would anymore? Maelscar was named in the time of the Drageon Reign, centuries ago, before the war and before the secret knowledge of dragon-taming was forgotten and lost.

Now that the dragon's are all either wild or dead, the only creatures that'll see Maelscar for it's namesake will be the birds.

***

"Haydon! Haydon, did you hear? The Travellers are here, they've finally come!"

My little sister Fraeya - fourteen, bubbly and currently out of breath - leans forward to stand between me and the chunk of wood I was cutting for the fire.

"Fraeya, that's great." I give her a weak smile, hoping she'll drop it. "Can you move now? I need to get these cut before Dad gets home."

She whines impatiently, showing no sign of moving.

"Fraeya," I chuckle exasperatedly, "move."

"Haydon, don't be such a bore!" she groans, taking a step to the side. I raise the axe above my head, ready to bring it down full-force. As I do, she yelps and jumps farther back.

"Dad told you to not bother me when I'm chopping firewood," I said to her. "Can't you leave?"

"Haydon!"

I raise the axe again and swipe it in a downwards arc. "What?" The split branch falls on either side of the chopping stool.

"The Travellers are in town!"

I lean down to pick them up. "Yeah, you've said that."

"For God's sake, Haydon!"

"What!?"

"The Travellers!"

"Fraeya, I get it!"

"How can you be so boring!? It's been a year since we've seen them and you act like their visit is so run-of-the-mill!"

I raise the axe again, prepared to completely ignore her attempts at distracting me - I hadn't anticipated she'd be stupid enough to actually sit on the stool though.

I lower the weapon, giving up. "Fraeya, please. If you want to go see them, then go! I'm hardly stopping you."

"But why aren't you excited? You used to love it when the Travellers came!"

"Key words: used to."

"Well, what changed? It's not like you're some big man now, you're only one year older than me."

"Fifteen is a man's age!"

She snorts, crossing her legs and getting comfortable on the stool. "Sure."

I drop the axe to the hard ground. Stupid stubborn sister. "You know what's weird? You never used to care this much that the Travellers were visiting. What changed for you, hmm?"

She smirks at me. "Cole" - her best friend, a girl who insists that her name Colette be shortened to the masculine sounding 'Cole' in idolisation of her older brother - "told me they'd stopped in Cristalfort."

"Yeah, and?"

"The port town."

"Yeah, and?"

"Haydon, you're stupid. It means they'll have brought back stuff from the soothsayer market! They might even have seeing crystals, or leaf cards, or - oh my God, what if they have dragon bones?" She squeals, clutching her hands to her chest. "I've always wanted to go to the Cristalfort soothsayer market. The idea that I could get some genuine magical items..." She sighs blissfully. "It's too good to be true."

I blink at her, bemused. "You're excited cause they might have picked up some phoney toys for you to play your freaky tricks with?"

She glares at me. "It's not tricks, it's magic. And they're not toys, they're carefully crafted enchanted instru-"

"Yeah, yeah," I cut her off, leaning down to pick up the discarded axe. "Floating ball, sharp axe - I don't see the difference, magic or no magic. Only of of them is gonna keep you alive. Now please, Fraeya." I gesture to her with the axe. "Bugger off."

She gets up with a huff. "You have to take me later."

"Sure, whatever," I mumble, not really listening. She can tell, and she puts a small hand to my shoulder to get my attention.

"Haydon, we're going tonight," she insists, her large dark eyes beseeching - she's got Dad's eyes. We have the same blonde hair - typical of Northern folk - but while she's inherited Dad's common brown eyes and pale skin, I have our late mother's grey eyes and the tan skin-tone. I saw from the photograph Dad keeps by his bed.

Her family had been from the Southern Islands, or so Dad tells us. She left with the Travellers when I was two.

"Fine, Fraeya. We'll go," I finally concede. "But," I hastily add on when her face twists in glee, "only if Dad comes, too."

"What?" Her face falls almost instantly. "No, Haydon, that's not fair! He hates them!"

I smirk at her. "Exactly."

She scowls. "He'll go, just you wait. I'll convince him."

"Right," I snort, and turn back to the chopping stool. "Cole and Bo-" Cole's big brother, and my best friend "-coming to dinner again?"

"Obviously." I hear her walking away, and I'm raising the axe above my head when she mumbles, "Oh, by the way, Haydon?" I swing down. "They're bringing some Traveller kids with them."

The axe slips from my suddenly-numb hands, flies through the air and impales itself on the wooden wall of our house.