A Quest for Fane

Last night I dreamt I was an ostrich again

Wednesday has come around again and I’m happy to present this week’s flash fiction.

Raffin Fane gripped the latch to my chambers closed door as if that contact spared him contamination. I glowered and he wrenched his hand free as if burned. I turned my attention back to my hearth.

“Aendild,” he said the mostly dead flames more audible. Heh. A cough, slightly raspy, cleared his throat. “Aendild,” His voice was stronger, “I’ve come to ask you… what’s in that pan?”

Grabbing a towel, I pulled the pan from the hearth and displayed the contents: eggs, ham, and a bit of pan bread. “Breakfast. Thanks for inquiring after my diet, Majesty.”

Raffin’s face contorted through expressions. Plopping the food onto my trencher, I allowed him to work through the mundanity of it. “Or did another question haunt you?” I prompted finally.

“Her majesty beseeched me to seek your wisdom.”

“On cooking eggs?”

“No on…” Raffin glanced over his shoulder. “Last night I dreamt I was an ostrich again.”

I took a bit of the eggs. Ugh. Runny. “Best it weren’t for my eggs.” He scowled at my jest. Good, he’d a smidgen of strength after all.

I leaned back. The meaning was obvious, but Queen Cwynna could’ve been blunt herself. No, if she’d sent him this required a different approach.

What we needed was time then. Fine. I dropped my truncheon to the floor. “Have you heard of the Astiram Flightless Quest, my liege?” Interest sparked in his gaze. Spirits preserve, and curse Cwynna’s sure sight for proclaiming Raffin Fane our savior and king.

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