Near sundown, Geraldus rode a brown spotted horse to the outer ridges of the village. He saw Alaric leading a garrison of soldiers back from a training exercise in the southeast, near the edges of a forest that had dark, glooming trees.
The forest was called the Greenwood Forest, a forest believed to have creatures of evil. Geraldus had always feared the glooming forest because of how the trees looked: glooming, dark-looking, and scary carved faces on each tree. Even though they lived in peace, Geraldus had always had a feeling they were living right next door to the forest that some evil creature will attack from.
“Whoever goes in there,” said a flying green dragon. “Never comes back out alive.”
Geraldus looked at the dragon joining him.
“Dragon King,” greeted Geraldus. “I simply fear that something lurks beyond those woods. I would not dare enter.”
“No man or creature would dare to enter that forest,” said Drago. “Only someone or something with no brains would foolishly go in there alone.”
“I fear that one of my troublesome, twin sons would go in there recklessly.”
“They’re causing trouble again?”
“Yes,” Geraldus sighed. “I just don’t know what to do with those two. Arron always wants to be reckless, not thinking about what is going on around him and Nerio keeps messing with the cornfields. I fear those two will never be the men I need them to be.”
“That is a problem with a lot of children,” said the Dragon King. “Always thinking they are ready to take on the world. The next thing, they don’t want to because they were beaten up easily like stomping an ant.”
“I don’t know what to do with them, Dragon King. My two eldest sons seem to be doing the jobs they are meant to do. My daughter, Eliana, seems to be doing ok, but she is getting her head in too many books. Then there are my youngest twin daughters. They seem to take on boys’ roles in this village. It seems Alaric and Flavius are the only worthy heirs to take my place.”
“What about that adopted son of yours?” asked the Dragon King, curiously. “Vaeludar?”
Geraldus glanced at Alaric who was riding into the village with his battalion. His eldest son was coming back from a patrol of the village’s borders. Lately, he had been hearing rumors of thieves trespassing near his village and kept sending out patrols to seek them out, but every patrol would turn up with nothing. So Geraldus would have to assume they were only rumors and nothing more.
“My adopted son?” answered Geraldus. “He is not like everyone else. He is very much different. He hides himself in my house, to spare himself the humiliation of other people. His appearance is a hard thing to live with since he is the first of any hybrid creatures.”
“I don’t blame him,” said the Dragon King. “Being a half human will feel like being an outsider to anyone. Even the Centaurs may look half human but they are not human.”
The Dragon King looked at the sun setting behind the distant foothills. He saw it was getting late, and the peasants were returning to their homes.
“The sun is setting, and I must get my dragons back to the Valley of Creatures,” he said, walking away.
“I must, too,” said Geraldus.
He reined the horse to run back to his village. The horse galloped at a fast pace. It took the horse five minutes to get back to his big house.
Two soldiers relieved Geraldus of his horse.
Geraldus went inside his house (or manor). Once he got inside, he took in the entrance hall as he always did, sparkling with gold and a sapphire diamond hanging on the roof.
Geraldus walked toward the narrow kitchen, which had two narrow wooden tables and several sharp knives on the tables, and saw Arron scrubbing an oval shaped plate over a bucket full of water.
“Arron, that is good enough. Finish cleaning the plate then you can go.” Arron lazily dumbed the plate in the bucket and ran away.
Geraldus grunted. Just then, his twin daughters came running into the kitchen. “Father,” they both said. Geraldus smiled at them and picked them up in his arms. Then Flavius walked through the door, carrying a wrapped cloth like a present.
“Father,” said Flavius, in a soft, manly tone. “The blacksmith is having some trouble with his furnace again. He gave me what you requested before the fire mysteriously died down.”
Geraldus placed his daughters down. “It must be your younger brothers dumping mud in there again. Make sure the servants have dinner ready when I come back, Flavius.”
“Yes, father,” replied Flavius.
Geraldus rushed through the entrance hall and out the front door. He paced himself in the glimmering of the bright night.
It was near night, with the light of the sun still shining with the night sky. Stars and galaxies gleamed overhead. Purple and red novae twinkled in the dull sun’s light.
Geraldus finally made it to the blacksmith’s workshop. Basically, it was an open view for all people to look at. There was the furnace, the hammer, the weapons hanging on the wall, and the blacksmith himself who was banging on metal.
“What’s wrong with the furnace this time?” asked Geraldus looking at the fireplace that had a weak, low fire. The blacksmith turned to face Geraldus. He was well built and lean, his head was bald, and his poor clothes were dirty. “That’s the problem: I don’t know,” answered the blacksmith, in a deep, solemn tone.
“Did Arron or Nerio come in here by
