Drethen Tales on Taeleeran Stories

A Cabin In The Woods

Sat, 11 Jul 2026 00:00:00 +0000

A path cut through the forest. Under canopied trees walked Duara and her father. Ahead of them lay Drethen, a town they’d decided to settle in after months of travel and running.

They had walked and talked, picking out small details to fill in the silence, but their conversation had now been reduced to slight groans and deliberate breaths.

Duara’s father, Gaul, was the first to break the silence. “Thoughts?” he asked.

Weight of Water

Sat, 11 Jul 2026 00:00:00 +0000

As Duara made her way back home, her father stood in front of the cabin, scratching his head.

In front of him lay a barrel, lightly filled with sandy loam, and beside it four buckets and two yokes. Behind him, a bowl filled with white ash from the last night’s fire.

When Duara approached, she asked, “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, everything is fine. I wanted to fix up the house and make it a home,” replied Gaul. He studied Duara’s face, her demeanor, and the upright stance she held, as if a string had pulled her by the chest and kept her freely suspended. “I figured that you’d be tired of walking.”

Observations

Sat, 11 Jul 2026 00:00:00 +0000

The cabin where Duara and Gaul inhabited, if not mentioned before, sat on the hill side surrounded by a thin row of trees. While this gave ample shade and an enclosure against an intense summer sun, one could see through the veil of branches and leaves if one wanted to.

And one wanted to. Not maliciously, or with malignant intent. A boy. He sat beyond a few rows of trees, glancing upwards towards the cabin and promptly scribbling something down after taking in a mental image.

Well Journeyed

Sat, 11 Jul 2026 00:00:00 +0000

Gaul woke with a knock on the door. He stumbled out of bed and put a hand up to Duara, telling her to stay put.

He strode to the door, grabbing a pan as he did. The person knocking spoke before Gaul reached for the handle. “Halo friends,” A familiar voice said, “I see you fixed the door… kind of.”

Gaul relaxed, placed the pan down, and opened the door. A bramphian waited outside, smiling with a crooked grin. He wore a tattered overcoat with a bag slung on his back, and he had accumulated miles worth of dirt on his gray-ish fur. It was Sy, one of the bramphians that smuggled them out of Haford.

Shaded

Sat, 11 Jul 2026 00:00:00 +0000

Duara found herself near the springs that looked towards her cabin. Atop a hill of dirt, she sat. Not really doing much. She did this in Haford too. High branches, hill tops, and balconies pondered she. Seldomly, when she met with her mother, it was usually in the upper altitudes—where her mind lulled, and where she could disappear in the breeze until her mother shouted for presence.

The grass kneeled with her touch, and once she’d pull up her hand, it’d glisten with morning dew.