Bell Ringer
Prologue
As the radiant sun relinquished its embrace over the usually cool and damp marshlands of the ancient realm known as Rokfel, dusk settled upon the land, heralding a time of solemn fasting. It was a moment to honour the monarchs of yore, the valiant heroes, and the timeless tales woven into the tapestry of history. The golden sunset evening begins to darken as the denizens of the kingdom, be they travellers, visitors, or other folk, began to disperse, retreating to their respective abodes.
Amidst this transition, a diminutive golden-brown field mouse emerged, clad in a flowing attire of green and brown. With a sense of purpose, she darted through the dwindling crowds of rats, who were now concluding their day’s activities, dismantling their market stalls, and shuttering their shopfronts. Her braids, cascading behind her in a lively dance, swayed in sync with each spirited step she took. Often, she collided with the much larger rats in her path, yet she promptly offered her apologies for the unintended encounters, displaying a gentle nature even in her haste.
“Eep! Goodness me, child…”
“Forgive me, I didn’t intend to unsettle you.”
“Slow down, please! You’ll hurt some-beast with that tray of yours!”
She had found herself scurrying behind schedule, having lent a paw in the dutiful provision of nourishment to several guards stationed at the western gateway.
“Oi! Look at her go! Cheeses and chestnuts, watch out Mum! She’s running right for yah!”
The elderly rat that was conversing to her friend at the shopfront quickly took a step in and tucked her dress out of the way of the mouse-maiden’s path, just narrowly avoiding a collision.
“Oh deer, thank you Henry. Careful now little one!”
“I’m sorry, but I’m running late for the blessing!”
Ana knew that if she were to keep the king waiting, it would surely be disastrous! She kept running at a breakneck speed, despite the warnings given. She would not be late!
“(Grunt) Hey! Watch where you’re goin’ there, little missy!”
“Oop! Apologies, I mean no harm, good sir.” She apologized again, running only a few strides more before colliding into a much bigger and heavier creature that had unwittingly crossed her path, putting an end to her quick paced venture.
“Oof!”
This time she rebounded backwards off the unmoving mass like a rubber ball. With an undignified descent, she tossed her tray of dishes and cutlery, cascading through the air in a cacophonous symphony of clinks and clatters. She found herself seated upon the dusty ground, her rump meeting the dirt with an unceremonious thud. The small metal utensils landed with her, scattered in all directions, finding their resting places upon the earth, their metallic song reverberating through the bustling surroundings.
“Ow… Forgive me, kind soul, I didn’t mean to bump into you like that…”
“Bump into me? You almost swept me off my paws and into a grave!”
The bigger creature’s motherly voice exuded concern, perplexed at the situation.
“(gasp!) Dotty, are you alright? Oh… I’ve gone and hastened myself into trouble again, haven’t I?”
As the small field mouse raised her gaze, she found herself confronted by the countenance of her marmot maid friend Dotty—a visage that exuded both kindness and a touch of bewilderment, softened by round features. This marmot maiden, attired in a well-kept ensemble, presented herself in a light blue maid’s dress, bearing the gentle signs of use. A pristine white apron, though marked with remnants of food stains, adorned her waist, while a small yellow cloth gracefully enveloped her head, serving as a modest head covering.
“Dear me Ana, I am unharmed, but whatever are you running like a wildcat for? Recklessness could yield dire consequences, risking un-due harm to yourself or others!”
Dotty was flustered at the sudden shove, even if all it did was cause her mild imbalance, but her demeanour softened when she realized who it was that had charged into her.
“Oh, I know that… I apologize, I just didn’t want to be late for the telling of stories. I pray that I have not caused you any harm.”
Dotty offered a paw in assistance to help Ana up, though her big gleaning brown eyes were down cast at the thought of causing others trouble, with emotion and disappointment filling her heart. Dotty leaned down to Ana’s height after helping her up and began to soften and comfort her as she spoke.
“You did not injure me, thankfully, but if it were another creature, they may not be so fortunate! (Sigh) Ana, I know that you are engaged to the king, but you still need to have some consideration for others!”
Dotty explained softly as she put a paw on Ana’s shoulder in efforts to comfort her. Instead, Dotty saw her friend’s posture slouch as she was overcome with disappointment.
“Oh, leave the thorns to the brambles. Just be mindful, that’s all. Come, I will help you clean up. Then we will make our way to the castle for the blessing.”
With swift coordination, Dotty, and Ana, driven by a shared sense of responsibility, diligently retrieved the scattered dishes and cutlery strewn upon the cool rocky terrain, then placed it all onto the tray that Ana held. Mindful of their surroundings, they navigated the path to the castle, cautiously avoiding any inadvertent collisions with fellow passersby.
Within the majestic confines of the main hall, affectionately referred to as Burnham’s Ballroom, a remarkable transformation had taken place. The usually spacious and unadorned chamber now boasted an array of chairs, benches, and tables, all meticulously arranged, their orientations converging upon a prominent podium situated before a magnificent wall tapestry. This departure from the norm was a testament to the extraordinary nature of the day at hand.
Radiant illumination enveloped the hall, emanating from numerous wall sconces, strategically positioned candle stands, and a grand chandelier suspended at its very centre. Their collective glow breathed life into the space, casting dancing shadows upon the walls. At the heart of the room stood a commanding figure—a rat towering over the rest, with a coat of sheening rich black fur that shined brilliantly in the golden rays of the warm candlelight. He was adorned with a regal crown atop his head and swathed in a resplendent maroon cape with golden patterns surrounding its edges. With authority and grace, he directed the diligent maids and servants, orchestrating the placement of objects and the arrangement of effects with meticulous precision.
As the bustling preparations unfolded, Ana and Dotty made their entrance through the rear hall doorway, joining the scene. Ana, brimming with anticipation and youthful enthusiasm, hurried toward the towering rat, her small form exuding a childlike innocence. Extending her paw, she clasped his with an endearing trust, prompting the regal rat to kneel, meeting her gaze with his own deep red eyes—gentle, tinged with a hint of fatigue, yet brimming with eager anticipation. In that tender exchange, he sensed her own eagerness to immerse herself in the tales of old, perhaps harbouring a distinct yearning for one story in particular.
“Mmm. And what mischief have you gotten yourself into this eve?” His deep soft voice sounded.
“Mischief, whatever do you mean?”
“Well, I see that Dotty has accompanied you, so I know that she must have found you running yourself into trouble. My only question is what that could very well be…”
He played back, detecting the smile that would form, then disappear as Ana tried to collect herself. Dotty approached Meier and whispered something into his ear, too quiet for Ana to perceive.
“Ah. Well then-”
“King Meier? F-forgive me your highness…”
Meier’s words were cut short when a servant rat named Tim called to him. The big rat’s attention was lifted over Ana’s head as he stood to answer the plea.
“Yes, speak.”
“The time has come for the festivities to begin, and for your kingdom to enter your house for the great fasting. They are awaiting outside for your word Sire.”
“Ah. So, it has. Send them in, we shall start the ceremony once every beast has entered and settled.”
The servant bowed before the king, then returning to the entrance, he signalled to the awaiting creatures outside, granting them permission to enter the hallowed hall. Meier addressed Ana again as he pushed himself to a stand:
“We shall finish nattering in the morn, for tonight is a special night, indeed.”
As the front double doors of the ancient castle swung open, a tide of rats and diverse creatures surged into the hall, filling the once-empty space with their presence. From his vantage point at a table positioned to the right of the podium, Meier observed the gathering crowds, his gaze sweeping across the animated scene. Some moments later, every beast was sat at a table, bench, or chair filled with laughter and good cheer. They were alive with conversation, excited and filled with anticipation during this special time. Amidst the animated hubbub, Meier, desiring to restore order, resorted to repeatedly clanging his silver cup upon the wooden table, creating a resounding chime that gradually commanded attention.
“Quiet, quiet now.”
As the echoes of the clanging subsided, a hush fell upon the room, veiling the gathering in an expectant silence, as all eyes turned towards Meier, awaiting his words. Giving a light chuckle at how bright the mood had become, he takes a moment to recall if ever there was a time he could remember, of such a delightful temperament before continuing.
“(chuckle) It is good that there is lively talk in the air, but I must create room for our speaker. T-thank you everyone for attending this most special event. I full well know that it is not always all roses and honey, uh- but I also know that without your hard work and endurance, this kingdom would be for not. This is the land of the rats after all, we are a stubborn bunch I’d say.”
Everyone in the room seemed to be in high spirits today, laughing at the jokes that Meier had strewn about his speech.
“But we mustn’t forget where we come from. Now is a time of fasting as we put ourselves in the footsteps of the characters in each tale. There are many legends we could relate. The tale of the king before I, and my father: King Malcolm, perhaps.”
A cheer rose from the crowd, that quickly subsided after a moment.
“Perhaps that of Sir Seedwell Burnham, the first king and founder of Rokfel.”
Meier paused a moment and looked thoughtfully at Ana who was sitting next to him at the table. She returned the gaze with a curious look on her face, and Meier gave an almost devious smile in return as he looked back at the gathering.
“Nay. There is one legend of a creature smaller than most others here, who ruled Rokfel for a time; one who most here may not remember. Allow me to introduce our speaker for tonight, our recorder and head scholar: Sir Harry Feather-claw.”
Meier announced as the crowds gave a good clap of paws and a cheer or two. After a moment of good admiration, Meier put his paw up to quiet the room.
“I thank thee, and good eve to you all.”
“Mmm. The tale he will be relating to us, is that of a Warrior called Golden Heart. Please, let us see ourselves in this story as Harry recalls for us these events.”
Meier finished, settling himself to grant Sir Harry the reins of narration and unfold the tale.
Ana, struck by astonishment, gazed upon Meier with eyes nearly disbelieving, only to swiftly redirect her attention toward Sir Harry, a finely aged rat cloaked in a splendid long coat coloured in a hue of ever-green, that would drape to the very floor he stood on. A set of finely made spectacles riding on the bridge of his snout, gleamed in the candlelight as he commenced his discourse with a resolute voice.
“Thank thee, my Liege. This legend is not as well-known as the others here in this kingdom, for it lasted naught but five seasons. However, the tale extends much further back than that. Thanks to the efforts of our king, and to old Mother Bell of Heartwood Abbey, we now have a much fuller depiction of this mouse called Golden Heart, and her lore to follow.”
Sir Harry unrolled one of the scrolls and placed it on the podium, then reading from the top-left corner, now began to relate this story.
“These are the chronicles of Ruuna the GoldenHeart: a mouse healer of old. Her story begins at her childhood home, a farm of Burrowside fields, ‘twixt the land of the mining moles, in the Vermorrian plains...”