The Awakening

“Being in a white ash community means that we are left mostly alone, there are no regular patrols of Dark Hunters like there are in the old cities”

Grandma had started straight away that morning, she hadn't even asked me whether I had an answer for her or not. I guess that the answer was written all over me when I had her morning breakfast and tea ready for her before she had even opened her door. I heard her getting up, it was a slow process and one that I had not heard for at least the last four years. I had become lazy and loved sleeping in. It was usually the other way round and she was waking me to breakfast. That, I figured must have been the reason why she hadn't bothered to ask me if I had an answer. Truth be told I just had to know what was going on, what she meant last night.

She emerged from her room carrying an old wooden box, the type that was well worn and ornate looking. She sat down at the old table as I filled the table with fresh eggs and bacon from the farm and warm bread, fresh from the oven.

“So child, you have been paying attention while I slave away at the stove all these years”

There was a very cheerful, almost comedic tone to her voice that I have heard so many times before but not since the death of my parents 5 years ago.

I piled eggs and bacon onto her plate and cut two thick slices from the fresh loaf. I was eager for her to carry on, to tell me all. It was no use trying to persuade her, she is a stubborn woman and always has been. We ate while talking about all the jobs that still had to be done around the farm before the days became shorter, the usual chit chat that went on every morning over breakfast.

I was busy cleaning the remnants of breakfast when she suddenly opened the box, there was this tremendous creaking sound, almost as if the box had not been opened for centuries.

“Magic is all around us, out in plain sight but hidden away from those that do not know how to use it properly”

Maybe she was just beginning to decline, I mean, magic, that was the type of story you tell to small children to help fuel their make believe games.

She pulled out an old, dark leather bound book. It looked like it hadn't seen the light of day for years. The pages, as she opened the cover, looked like they were going to crumble under the slightest touch. It felt like there was something about this book that I could not explain, it felt like everything became a little calmer and that everything somehow felt friendlier and warmer.

“This, my child, is the Summerbell Grimoire. This is the legacy of our ancestors, of all those who came before us”

She sounded different from her usual jovial self, she sounded very grave and it frightened me somewhat. I have heard the same tones before, from the grandparents and parents of friends as they were putting the affairs in order before the final journey to hall of the ancients.

“This show's us who we are and where we come from. You see, we are not just ordinary farmers, we are more ancient and more powerful than you can imagine right now child”

“What do you mean grandma, we are just farmers, always have been from what Mum used to tell me”

My mum passed away 2 years ago, my dad 3 years past, it's just been me and my grandma since. I have looked after her but she has looked after me more. I had to grow up quickly in order to keep the farm running, she did her best but she is getting on and is slowing down, not able to do some of the more strenuous work. But I dare anyone to tell her that, she is as quick witted as anyone I know and her mind combined with her tongue were more powerful than any weapon that I have heard of. I have seen grown men come to have work done to their tools and weapons then refuse to pay because, why would they there was only a child and an old woman to stop them from walking away. The way she would attack them with her words would result in them leaving feeling like small children as well as lighter in their pockets.

“Well of course we are, but we are also so much more. Why do you think that you have been taught the art of smithing since you were little eh? You can go get lost in the woods with nothing but a pocket knife and end up living like a king because of the knowledge passed on to you by your parents, knowledge passed down from generation to generation. Do you know why we keep these ancient traditions going young Caius?”

She was coming over so passionate, all of the fun and joking now replaced with a deep routed pride and passion that I do not recall hearing before, she seemed so full of energy.

“It is because the ancients chose us, we are the ones tasked to bring about order and stop this chaos that has been reigning for millennia. We are Summerbell's and our destiny is to bring an end to the tyranny and to protect those that need protecting!”

There was a flash bright as 5 suns, a loud crack like thunder, my head began to spin I began started seeing shapes. No they were figures, were they moving? I couldn't tell, wait they begin to come into focus somewhat, it can't be, I must be dreaming?

“Hello my darling”

“Wow, look at you all grown and looking strong, not my little man any more”

“Mum? Dad? I must be dreaming”..........................

“Savirei, Sir, There has been a powerful spell cast, I can feel it but I can't seem to pinpoint where other than to the east of here”

“I know, I felt the power! So the rumours were true, they are just in hiding. It's time to route them out and finish this, once and for all!”