Traisha

By Hay van den Munckhof

This time, it's not about a lost ring or sword, but about the lost Egg of the Fièrath. Who are the Fièrath? You'll find out as you read the story of Traisha's quest..

• Language: English
• Publisher: Hay van den Munckhof
• Release date: Apr 2, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224866205

Book preview

The Story of Kronath

On the island of Arlana Sin Dad, spring had arrived. Ice floes drifted in the stream past the village of Amash, as winter still reigned in the mountains.

To the north lay the sea strait, an offshoot of Làgrimah-Sin, the Endless Ocean. Across the way, beyond the flat coastal lands of Reliné, the peaks of the mountain ranges around the White City towered above the clouds.

Storm gusts blew from the mountains through the streets of the coastal village, making the shutters rattle dangerously.

In the living room of the Grevish family, the wood stove roared. Grandpa Kronath sat once again so close to it that his hair and clothes were almost singed. There were villagers who claimed that the old man would soon no longer need a funeral. Sooner or later, they would simply find him as a pile of ash next to the stove.

Traisha sat on a stool, a distance away from the stove. Nevertheless, she felt a bead of sweat sliding down between her shoulder blades. Her younger nephews and nieces were less bothered by the heat. They crouched together at the foot of grandpa, who sat in his rocking chair next to the stove.

Old Kronath coughed and looked around at the circle of eager children's faces, while chewing on an indistinct wad. He opened the stove with a crooked poker, spat out a wad of tobacco forcefully into the flames, and immediately closed the hatch. Loud hissing and crackling followed. Kronath bared his brown teeth in a smile when he saw the frightened faces of the little ones. He waited a few more seconds.

What do you want to hear tonight? It has to be a short story, because it's already late for the little ones.

Traisha already knew what it was going to be. The children were obsessed with the story of the lost left foot. Every time, they covered their faces in horror at the hearing of the gruesome details that Kronath recounted with a broad grin.

Kronath possessed the rare gift of telling something in such a miraculous way a hundred times, that it seemed like a hundred different stories, even if he used exactly the same words. He enchanted everyone with his gestures, facial expressions, and subtle vocal inflections, which surpassed even the soothing voices of the Fièrath themselves.

About your foot, about your foot, Kronath! the children chorused.

Traisha, who knew the story by heart, found herself joining in.

ON AN EARLY SUMMER morning, I went fishing at the border of the Wild Lands, where the great lagoon lies between the peninsulas of Koth and Askoth. I stayed there the entire morning.

Yes, I see you looking surprised, and indeed... that is normally life-threatening. You all know how numerous the Fièrath are along this coast and how they lurk day and night for a chance to strike. But on that day, it happened to be different. The sky was so clear that you could see the entire ocean up to the sharp line of the horizon. But most importantly... it was completely windless. The water surface of the lagoon was therefore perfectly calm. Do you understand what that meant?

Well, it meant that not even the most cunning Fièrath stood a chance of surprising me, not with their barb and not even with their casting net, even though it has a range of two houses in a row. The water in the lagoon is so shallow that even an extremely cautious approaching Fièrath would cause visible ripples in the still water.

They made two attempts that morning. Both times, I had enough time to calmly pick