James Wraieth
ThornDragon
“No one is ever ready for fate, boy. All you can do when it comes rushing in is either answer its call. Or be trampled beneath its feet.”
Dedicated to my beautiful family and my wonderful readers. Without all of you keeping me inspired, I would never have been able to see my dream come true. I love and appreciate you all.
Sincerely, James Wraieth
Prologue
Rone ran his fingers through his steel-grey hair and pulled it into a ponytail. Tied it off with a thin leather cord, then leaned back against the trunk of a large oak tree to rest.
Enjoying the solitude of the forest, he stroked the soft snow-white fur around Fang’s neck. A blink wolf who had been Rone’s friend and companion since his youth.
The two had met not long after Rone had joined the Thorn Callers. He had been out practicing his tracking skills one day when he found Fang with a fur trapper’s arrow embedded in his hindquarter.
Knowing the young wolf would have no chance of surviving without aid. Rone used a calming spell to remove the arrow and apply healing salves to its wound before setting it free.
To his surprise, instead of running back into the forest like Rone expected. The grateful animal began to follow him where ever he went. Over time this unlikely bond between them grew, and Fang quickly became both Rone’s closest friend and traveling companion.
As Rone continued to rub his fur, the big wolf nuzzled closer to him. Nearly pushing him over in the process. Weighing close to two hundred pounds, when Fang stood on all fours, his back was better than waist-high to Rone. Who was over six feet tall himself.
“What is it, boy? What’s got you wanting to be so cuddly?” He asked, rubbing his friend's head with both hands now. He was still petting his friend when the lowest branch of the great oak he was under began to move downwards towards him. He didn’t even notice it until it had already come to rest on his shoulder.
As its wooden tip touched him, Rone’s mind immediately became filled with familiar images. He could see the briar vines and high thorn brambles that made up a natural wall protecting the village of Thornbriar. A small town nestled in the center of Agnar forest that served as the Thorn Callers home and training grounds.
In his vision, the thorns and briars began parting. Rolling back to allow his mind full view of the village within. A beautifully green willow tree swayed in the breeze, causing the dew drops that covered its stems to flow downwards like tears. Rone could see that some of the animals of the Agnar forest were there as well. Strangely gathering just outside of the village as if they were waiting for something to happen.
Suddenly, his mind’s eye focused on the main house in the center of the village. Within the speed of a blink, Rone was now seeing the view from the vantage point of a small birch tree. The one he had planted as a boy that stood just outside of a window in the rear of the home. Its branches oddly resting on the wooden window seal as if it too was watching or waiting on something inside the house.
That’s when his vision shifted to the window. Inside the room lying motionless on the bed, was his mentor and friend Maximillian Forestwhisper.
Rone was shocked to see how pale and weak he looked. His ordinarily stern face now showing signs of some unknown sickness. His once jet-black beard, now streaked with grey. And though his body still had its muscular frame, somehow it appeared feeble and meek.
Gathered around Max, were other members of the Thorn Callers. They hovered over the sick man with worried faces, applying healing salves, and trying desperately to get a potion down the unconscious man’s throat.
Suddenly, the sleeping man’s eyes opened wide, and his face turned towards the window. His trembling hand rose upward, trying desperately to touch the tips of the birch tree’s leaves.
Rone could hear the voice of his mentor calling to him. “Come home,” it begged before the vision faded from his mind. As the great oaks branch lifted from his shoulder and released him from its touch, Rone nearly buckled under the weight of what he had just seen.
Slowly, he regained his composure and looked up. Only to find the oak had already returned to normal and was now lazily swaying in the breeze as if it never happened.
Rone braced himself against its trunk for a moment, then rubbed the old tree gently.
“Thank you,” He said as he hoisted his bow onto his back and whistled for his horse.
“Fang, we have to go. Something is very wrong at home.”
With that, Rone climbed into the saddle and spurred his horse into a full gallop. Fang howled once in response, then blinked just ahead of Rone’s path. Hang in there, Max, I’m coming. He thought as he pushed his mount to move faster.
He had no idea what could bring the old ranger down like that. But whatever it was, it would not mean good news for the Thorn Callers.
1
Rone pushed forward for days. Only stopping to rest his horse for short periods so it would not collapse from exhaustion. And with each new day, he would again commune with the forest. Checking to see if he was too late and offering a prayer of thanks each time that he learned he was not.
On the sixth day of his forced ride, he found himself standing outside the bramble wall that surrounded Thornbriar village. He raised his hand and etched the magic symbol into the air that would open the wall.
It’s glow hanging there suspended in the air for a few seconds, still visible by the glowing green residue of magic. Only to finally disappear just as the impenetrable rows of bushes began to move.
Like rope being wound onto a wooden spool, the vines and brush rolled back into themselves. Offering Rone safe passage into the village.
As if the plants themselves knew he had passed between them, they unraveled themselves and closed the gap behind him once he was safely inside. There Rone dropped from his saddle and whispered something in his horse's ear. Then watched as it immediately moved off towards the barn. Stopping only to chew on some of the hay placed inside a large wooden ring at the entrance of the barn.
Rone had already started towards the main house when a voice to his left called out to him. Causing him to stop and turn just in time to see one of his fellow rangers coming towards him.
“Hail Tobias, good to see you again. How’s Max?” Rone asked, stopping to watch the man approach. Tobias Longbranch then crossed the square and came to stand next to him. He was tall with reddish-blonde hair, cut short, and coming down on each side in sideburns that tied into his well-kept beard.
“Not well, I’m afraid,” was his worried response.
“What happened?” Rone asked with more than a little concern in his voice.
“Come, I’ll tell you on the way. The old man has been asking for you for days.” The two rangers then shook hands and hurried towards the main house.
“So, what happened to Max?” Rone asked as they walked.
“We’re not exactly sure. Windrunner says she suspects it’s poison, though.” Sagina Windrunner was a WaldFae or Wood Elf in the common tongue. And one of the finest druid healers Rone has ever met. She knew more about healing herbs and potions than all the other Thorn Callers combined.
“Any idea who poisoned him?” Rone asked, stopping Tobias again to look him in the eyes.