Podcast: Play in new window | Download (Duration: 3:10 — 4.4MB) | Embed

Subscribe: Apple Podcasts | Email | RSS

Hello everyone, Asclepius here, with a great story from Reebdog, entitled “The Guard and the Lily, part 1” Background music “Lover’s Touch” by Smartsound.

The Guard and the Lily. Part 1

The ancestors who lived through the cataclysm and past, during the unknown times, carried through traditions that had all but been forgotten. Some still live with old tradition which is rare in New Brittania because of the Oracle. See, the Oracle doesn’t believe in some old traditions especially ones heavily embraced in the Vale. Since many of the citizens in the Vale are free thinkers and have escaped the rule of the Oracle, their most honored traditions are looked down upon. One of them being the hunt for the red lily.

It is said that the first red lily given to a young girl of age by an admirer will tie a magic bond between them stronger than that of the girl and any other man. The bond will be so strong that neither will ever have the eye for another mate. The tradition has proved so popular in the Vale that some new farmers who had escaped the rule of the Oracle had stopped growing wheat in order to cash in on a crop of red lilies. But they soon found that acquiring the seed of a red lily is not only difficult, but near impossible. Even when the seeds of a red lily are plucked, the chance of one turning red is extremely rare. You may end up with a sea of white lilies that are good for nothing more than sprucing up the town roads. The red lily only grows in abundance where the water flows across the nutritious soils of a mountain top. There must be sunlight every day as well so they only grow above the cloud line. And the adventure to find one is the first part of the tradition.

“May the peace of new in the Vale be with ye boy” said the old crooked looking man. His legs trembled like a couple of uprooted fence posts in a storm. His trousers, held up by a scanty pair of suspenders, danced in the wind and filled up to his breeches. The young man nodded with pride swelling up in his eyes as he snapped the back end of his horse with his boot. It was his time to hunt for a red lily. He had grown strong enough to plow an entire field in a day which was the turning point into manhood. He was now a man at the age of seven and ten ready for the abundance of what life had to offer. Owl’s Nest would soon disappear in his wake of dust. Homesickness a near future reality. And a young lady of six and ten longing for his return.