Free Stormwielder (The Sword of Light Trilogy Book 1) by Aaron Hodges Page B

first light.”
    Eric nodded, struggling to contain a yawn. His questions had kept him alert through the day but now a wave of exhaustion swept over him. His eyes were drooping and his thoughts had grown fuzzy and confused. It would be useless to continue their discussion now.
    He grabbed a blanket he had taken from Briars saddlebags and curled up in front of the fire. Closing his eyes, he sought sleep. Thoughts drifted through his consciousness. Images appeared, some as clear as day, others just a blur, as if viewed through a cloud of smoke. Then as it so often did, his mind turned to his parents and his fifteenth birthday.
    The day was still clear in his memory. Clearer, in fact, than much of two years that had followed since. The time he had spent on the road seemed a dream compared to the clarity of that fateful day – and the horror the night had brought.
    It haunted him still.
    “Eric, catch!” the nectarine tumbled towards him.
    Eric reached up and plucked the fruit from the air. He wiped it clean on his shirt before sinking his teeth into the soft flesh. His friend sat in the branches of the tree above him, munching on a second nectarine. Juice ran down his young face. Behind him, an autumn sunset lit the sky blood red.
    “So how does it feel to be old, Eric?” Mathew asked.
    Eric shrugged. “No different really, only I think it could mean a lot more work from here on out. My father’s already talking about getting me in the fields!”
    Mathew laughed. “That’s too bad. Maybe you should just forget about this birthday thing. Stay young forever.”
    Eric grinned back. “I don’t think it works that way.”
    “Eric” a voice shouted from down the hill. “Come help set the tables. Just because you’re a man now doesn’t get you out of your chores!” he swore sometimes his mother’s voice could carry across mountains.
    “It begins,” Mathew mocked in an ominous voice.
    “At least I get presents,” Eric retorted as he started down the hill.
    Eric heard his mother’s voice again and began to run. The ground was muddy from rain, but his sturdy boots carried him easily along the slippery trail. 
    Covered by uncut grass and scraggly trees, the hill led down to his parents’ house on the edge of town. Half a dozen other houses also neighboured the hill but his families was easily the smallest. Over its thatch roof and smoking chimney he could just make out the rest of the farming village. It spread across the rolling plains, around fifty houses in all. In the distance green mountains towered over the valley, hedging them in to the west.
    Puffing, he ran up to his back door and pulled it open. Leaning down, he was sure to scrape the mud from his shoes before entering. His mother’s fury would be something to behold if he trekked mud into the house again.
    “There’s the birthday boy – or should I say man!” His father greeted him with his booming laugh and welcoming grin.
    He moved across the room and scooped Eric up into a bear hug. His strong arms crushed the air from Eric’s lungs before releasing him.
    Eric looked up into his father’s dark amber eyes. They were edged by wrinkles, with grey hairs streaked through his jet-black hair. They reminded Eric his father was no longer a young man.
    His mother’s voice echoed from the corridor. “Sounds like its dinner time, we’d better not keep your mother waiting,” his father said, still grinning.
    “Better late than never I guess,” his mother greeted them as they entered the dining room.
    Her hazel eyes locked on Eric from across the room. Despite her grey hair, his mother had lost none of her strength or will. She wore a dark blue dress and a smile, despite her scolding tone.
    Eric bowed his head. “Sorry mum, I came as soon as I heard you!”
    His mother shook her head, laughing softly. “Oh don’t worry you; it’s your day after all. Come here!” She too drew him into a long hug.
    They sat down at the small table then. The sweet