A Green Ember Fan Fiction [Request by Mercy]

The sun set over the waves, turning the waters into a beautiful mixture of red and blue and gold. Massie leaned over the dock, staring at the swirling mass around him. He was mesmerized by its beauty, and felt as if he could stare at it for an eternity.

As soon as it came, the color seemed to fade away, to be replaced by the usual dingy grey-blue of the sea. He sighed, his reverie broken, and moved to stand up. The old wooden planks creaked when he shifted his weight, and he padded back along them to the shore, breathing in the refreshing cool air.

“Good evening, Massie.” Tyke called from his place on the shore, apparently collecting items from the sea.

“Hey, Ty.” Massie walked over to where Tyke was up to his knees in water, barely splashing in the shallows. “Found anything today?”

“Look here,” Tyke held out his clenched fist, opening it to reveal a mass of wet sand, with a single shiny object partially buried.

“What is it?” Massie came closer, in interest.

“It’s a pearl, found it in the shallow area here not too long ago.” Tyke swished his hand in the water a couple times, cleaning off the white orb. It shone in the dying sunlight like a fallen star.

“How much do you reckon you’ll get from it?” Massie queried. Tyke raised his chin, thinking deeply, then shrugged his shoulders.

“I dunno. Might be worth a pocketful, I’ll say that for sure!” He grinned, then, quick as a flash, he took Massie’s hand in his and was pressing the pearl into his palm. “Here, why don’t you have it?”

“What? No, I couldn’t.” Massie tried to give it back, but to no avail.

“Listen little buddy, I like you. An old fool like me wouldn’t have anything to do with that kind of money besides. You have it, and do with it what you like.” He let go of Massie’s hand, grinning wider, and eventually Massie smiled back.

“Thank you, Ty.”

“Don’t mention it, little buddy.” Tyke shuffled to higher ground alongside Massie, then waved his farewell before disappearing into the woods where he had his home. Massie, still clutching the pearl, headed in the opposite direction, for his own home.

As soon as he entered the door, he could tell that there was a special treat awaiting him. The warm smell of baked blackberries tantalized him, and he couldn’t stop his nose from quivering.

“Well, there’s the wanderer.” His father sat at the small oak table in the middle of the room, a steaming mug in his hands. Massie smirked as he plunked down next to him, placing the pearl on the table, then wiping the remaining sand onto his leg. His father leaned in, examining it.

“A pearl? Where did you find that, son?”

“It was Tyke who found it. He gave it to me.” Massie’s father delicately picked it up between his thumb and forefinger, taking a closer look at it.

“This is a fine gift. What do you plan to do with this?” He placed it back down, for Massie to pick back up again.

“I don’t know. I’d rather keep it, I suppose.” He said these last words as his mother walked into the room from the kitchen, drying her hands on her apron.

“There you are, Massie. I thought I heard talking in here.” She stood tall and straight, an imposing posture if not for her glimmering eyes. “What were you doing out so late, young buck?” She asked in a voice of mock doom.

“Oh, most wonderful queen,” Massie gave a trembling bow, “I have the most thrilling story to tell of how I was delayed on my way back to your kingdom.”

“Really?” She raised an eyebrow. “You had better speak fast, or else you face the spoon of fury!”

His father snorted. “I don’t believe in capital punishment, my dear.”

Massie continued, “I was making all haste, when suddenly in my path were a whole pack of wolves! Oh, maybe twenty or even thirty! I had to fight them all, and I slayed them all with my own sword. It could’ve taken me all night to fend them off.”

“Ah, so that is how my woodpile became disarranged.” Father commented dryly, placing his mug upon the table.

“I’m sure it was a noble feat.” Mother dramatically exclaimed. Massie ducked his head in suppressed laughter. Mother then waved her hand at them as she re-entered the kitchen. “Well, both of you heroes stay there, I have a blackberry pie that’s nearly finished.”

“Mmm.” Massie patted his belly. “My favorite.”

“Don’t you eat too many pieces,” Father warned, “or you’ll start turning into a blackberry yourself!”

“No, I won’t!” Massie giggled.

“Oh, yes. I can see it already happening,” Father mocked checking him over, tickling him, causing him to giggle harder. “Let’s check your ears to see if they taste like blackberry.” He nibbled on the tips of his ears. Massie pealed in laughter, and they began to wrestle on the floor, laughing raucously.

“You two get off of that dirty floor, and come eat!” Mother called from the side of the room, a golden pie in her hands. They immediately straightened up at the sight of food, and sat down at the table, soon being served oozing slices of the delicious dessert.

Early next morning, Massie went out with his father to visit the town to pick up certain supplies. He was fascinated by the many sights and sounds, as it wasn’t often that he went to the marketplace. He was always glancing around as his father walked around, or stopped to chat with one rabbit or another. Their visit was brief, and soon they were on their way back to their house, both of them carrying a small amount of groceries.

“Father?”

“Yes, son?”

“May I go play out in the forest until the noon meal?” He shifted the small parcel in his hands, eager to be free.

“You may. Don’t wander too far.” He warned as he took Massie’s bag.

“I won’t, I’ll just be in the clearing.” Massie yelled over his shoulder as he sprinted to the desired destination. He leapt into the clearing, pounding the bare dirt with his small hind legs, and reached for his small little sword that he had fashioned out of a stick. The handle had been smoothed to a shine from use, and the tip had been long blunted and broken off. It was still his favorite to train with, and that is what he did.

First he swung in a few wide arcs, getting “warmed up” as his father called it, then he began jumping as high as he could, then bringing the sword down as hard as he could, imagining crushing a wolf’s skull.

“Yeah! Take that!” He shouted, absorbed in his play.

“Who are you talking to?” An unfamiliar voice broke in, distracting Massie mid-swing. There was another buck, looking to be around his age, standing on the near side of the clearing, staring at Massie inquisitively.

“Who are you?” Massie asked.

“I’m Gavin.” The buck pointed at himself.

“I’m Massie.” Massie lowered his sword, still watching the newcomer.

They were silent for a bit, then Gavin spoke again. “Where did you learn to do that?”

Massie was taken aback. “Do what?”

“What you were doing just now.”

Massie could feel his chest swell. “My father, he’s the best sword fighter on this side of the Bleaks. He could beat anybody, and he’s teaching me how to fight.”

“Wow.” Gavin looked genuinely impressed. “Could you teach me how?”

“Sure! But,” Massie looked around, “you’ll need a sword, like mine.”

“Where can I get one?”

“Anywhere, there are lots of good sticks around. I’ll show you.”

Massie led his new companion into the forest, eager to show off all that he knew. It wasn’t long before they found a suitable sized branch, and headed back to the clearing for their first lesson.

Nearly two hours passed, and Massie was just showing Gavin how to parry his sword. He repeatedly came at him, lunging forward, only to have Gavin shy away, barely holding his sword up.

“No, Gavin, you have to come at me at the same time.” Massie instructed.

“Sorry. I just don’t want to hurt you.” Gavin looked a bit shaky with the stick in both of his hands.

“Nah, you wan’t hurt me, I’m really tough. I won’t cry, even if you hit me in the face.” Massie raised his stick again, and Gavin, encouraged, was more successful in blocking and countering his attacks.

A deep, rumbling voice rang across the clearing as they fought. “Keep your posture straight, son, you’re too hunched over.”

Massie glanced over to see his father standing at the woods’ edge. He obeyed, straightening up and advancing on Gavin again.

“Keep yourself balanced, don’t put too much weight on one foot.” Father called out again. Gavin leaned back to place his weight equally on both feet, giving him better leverage against Massie’s attacks.

“Very good, you two. Remember, use the side, never the tip.”

Gavin jumped over to the side, giving Massie a solid whack with his stick. Massie grunted, stumbling to the side, then recovered.

“Are you alright?” Gavin asked. Massie nodded, then turned to his father.

“You’ve been out for a while. Lunch had already been made.” His father gently reprimanded.

“Sorry, I forgot.” Massie sheepishly apologized. He then turned to Gavin. “This is my father, and Father, this is Gavin. I met him earlier.”

Father smiled, reaching out his hand. “Greetings, Gavin. You show fine skill with the sword.”

“Thank you, sir.” Gavin shook his hand, looking in awe. “Massie said you’re the best sword fighter.”

“Well, that’s debatable, but I can certainly hold my own.” He winked at Massie. “My son likes to flatter me.”

“You are the best.” Massie declared.

“Can’t argue with that, now can we?” Father chuckled. “I imagine you both are starving. Why don’t you come back to the house? Lunch has been served a while ago.”

“I should probably be getting home.” Gavin said apologetically. “My mother is going to wonder where I am.”

“Are you gonna come back?” Massie asked, a little worried. Gavin smiled. “Sure! Will you be here tomorrow?”

“Sure! My father can show us some more moves, too!” Massie promised. Gavin waved good-bye as Massie was led back to his home.

(Don't worry, I'll upload the second part to Weapons of War soon)