The beginning of the story. I had no real plan for how this story would be written, just a line to start with, and some inspiration from other stories. Very little research has gone into this story as of yet, so facts are kind of based on my ideas not what would be accurate for the area. Edited the story so it reads a little better, other than that nothing has changed
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Night time, a time of the uncertain. Night time, a time of dark deeds. Night time, when things that should never happen, happen.
It had been one of those days, where the heat and light of the sun drone on, making even the most energetic person, lethargic. After working in the fields all day, with barely a break, Bran was exhausted. The everyday routine of maintaining the stead was enough to make anyone weary. Harvest season was coming soon, and the need to make sure the best produce would be usable, was all that mattered at this season. In a matter of weeks, the majority of crops would be harvested and the land would be readied for next year's planting, and then he would be able to relax, but for now, work came first.
Heading home, Bran stopped in at his parents home, for an evening's repast and then headed back to his own house to start the routine all over again the next day. With the waning light, he hurried his steps a little more than he had been. Although tonight was shaping up to be one of those absolutely clear nights, the path from the farm to the houses were still shadowed by small groves of old trees that stopped any of the little light that the night could produce. Within no time, he was sitting at the table while his mother asked for protection and prosperity from the gods.
Dinner tonight was just Bran, his father, Vardon, his mother, Enid, and his two younger sisters Divone and Nealie. Divone and Nealie were the only two of his siblings still living with their parents, the rest having settled roots elsewhere and starting families of their own. While Bran had his own place, on part of the land that was owned by the family, he had no eligible brides-to-be in the surrounding area that would either have strengthened ties with other families, or were pleasing companions that Bran could tolerate. To be fair, he was still just in his nineteenth summer being alive, so he still wasn't worrying about being a bachelor for life.
The food for that night was one of some crops that had come in early and some meat that had been snared by his father. It was not what the rich would consider a great meal, but to farmers, it was a near feast. Stories were told around the table, of what had happened to each of them today, or what there was needed to be done the next, and fantasies created from his sister Divone. He loved his sister dearly, actually he loved the both of them dearly. They were only a year younger than him, a healthy set of twins, that, despite causing their mother to be unable to birth any more children, blossomed to true womanhood to become especially attractive.
Nealie was always the responsible one of the two, especially considering that Divone's head always seemed to create fantastic stories. Those stories had caused all three of them multiple punishments as children, and there would have been more if Nealie had not taken control of some of their more insane ideas and talked them out if it. At eighteen, both should have been married already, but as with their youngest brother, there were no eligible suitors, though Vardon was always looking about when he went into town.
As dinner neared the end, Bran excused himself from the house and headed back to his own, so he would be able to be up and ready for another long, strenuous day. As he had predicted, it was a clear night with a bright full moon shining about the countryside. His strolled home at a leisurely pace, deciding to enjoy the night. The sight of the light shining through the leaves, the shadow of the distant hills, all brought Bran much enjoyment. Even the sounds of nature held their own sorts of gratification. The night birds with their cries, the insects and the sounds they made, even the rustling of the leaves in the slight wind were enough to make Bran content with his life.
Finally arriving at his house, he properly rinsed himself off of the sweat that his body had produced from the day's labor, and cleaned his clothes at the small stream, that gave him fresh water and some fish, whenever he had time to fish, that is. With all things done for the day, and nothing else that he could be productive with, it was time to go to sleep. Or at least that is what he tried to do. Though cooler than the day that proceeded this night, it was still hot. After some time, he gave up trying to sleep for the time being, and went outside, where it was slightly cooler, and enjoy the night some more. While sitting outside, he started to follow the activity of his guests of the night.
Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, something flew by. Trying to find what flew by him, again, something flew through the edge of vision, but this time, Bran was able to actually keep track of it. Just a simple raven was all it was. Going back at staring at nothing in particular, the raven kept flying through Bran's vision. It didn't seem to being doing any type of hunting or scanning, just enjoying the night, like Bran, and flying. Finally, tired Bran went back to bed.
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