Chapter One: In which we encounter two separate worlds and two separate people, soon to collide.

The aim of chapter one was to introduce the main characters in such a way that readers would want to continue reading.

The climate of the world has changed dramatically over the past decade or so.  What the implications for your specific country have been depends entirely upon your country’s location on the globe.

     The implications for England are as follows; seasons, as four distinct and diverse sections of the calendar, have vanished.  Now, as opposed to Summer, Autumn, Winter, and Spring, Britain enjoys varying stages of wet.  Instead of summer, there is ‘warm rain’.  Autumn has been replaced by ‘cool and damp. Drizzle.’. Spring is simply ‘rain’, and in the place of winter, ‘frozen-rain-which-tries-to-be-snow-but-is-actually-far-too-solid’.

     Currently, Elise Silverton observed, the season was ‘warm rain’.  She wasn’t particularly fond of ‘warm rain’.  It made her hair, naturally curly but controllable given enough time to tame, poofy.  She wasn’t particularly fond of her hair when it was poofy, mainly because people laughed at it.  And let’s face it, nobody likes to be laughed at.

     She pulled a scrunchie from her pocket, and, reluctantly, tied her hair back.  She wasn’t proud of her aesthetics, and was by no means vain, but she endeavoured to think that she had nice hair.  When it was obedient.  Having dealt with the hair issue, in an entirely unsatisfactory way, Elise decided she’d better make her way back to her house.  She disliked calling the place ‘home’, since she’d never felt particularly settled there, but felt that she was forced to live there until she was old enough to move out.  At seventeen-and-a-half years old, she could have done this, but her college grades would have been greatly affected, and she didn’t really want that.  So she put up with her insufficient accommodation for the time being.

     With a glance at the despondent sky, and a heavy sigh, she stepped out from the doorway of her place of education, and began to trudge through the grey streets towards her parents’ house.

 

***

 

In an altogether different country, in an altogether different climate, in an altogether different world, an altogether different person was doing something altogether different.

     The boy, or, rather, the young man, was lazing beside a river.  His favourite daytime occupation, by far.  He found it slightly peculiar that he should feel such an affinity with bodies of water (both large and small), considering that his name was River.  But he never really paid it much thought.  Thought was not his forte.  River was not a thinking man, he had decided long ago.  No, he, River, was a doing man.  He would leave philosophy to those with greater minds than his own.

     Little did he know that his mind was actually exceptional, if uneducated, and far more capable than he would ever grow to give it credit for.

     The sun was setting, and River sat forward.  If the sun was setting, that meant he was late.  And if he was late, that meant he had forgotten, once again, to gather the grapes from the vineyard.  If he had forgotten, once again, to gather the grapes from the vineyard, that meant he’d be going hungry tonight.  He momentarily considered making haste to the vineyard, and doing what little harvest he could, while there was still light to do so, then thought better of it.  He thought better of it, partially, because he liked to watch the sun set over Lake Dal.  He thought better of it mainly because he had just seen a slight figure hurrying towards him.

     “River! River, I’m glad I’ve found you.”  The girl arrived, slightly short of breath, her snowy hair tousled by the wind and her grey eyes both laughing and lamenting simultaneously.  She had plenty of reason to lament, as her betrothed had drowned in the lake River spent so much time beside.  River looked up, casually, as though he couldn’t care less despite the fact that his heart had suddenly begun to beat just the slightest bit quicker than usual.

     “What?”

     Cloud’s eyes lit up (for the girl's name was Cloud.).

     “The Market’s coming.” She grinned.  She grabbed River’s arm, and pulled him rather too enthusiastically away from the beautiful scene he had been planning to watch.

     “Cloud.  What are you doing?” He shook the girl off, and glared at her.

     “What? You weren’t doing anything, and besides I want you to come to the market with me.”  The girl shrugged passively, and River sighed.  She was so pretty, and she’d been spoiled for most of her life as the only girl in her family.  So selfish.

     “You can’t just expect people to drop everything the moment you waltz into the picture.  Seriously.  It pisses people off.”  He glared down at the faerie-like face.  “It pisses me off, simply put.”  He turned to leave, but a loud sniff forced his attention back to his friend.  The girl had burst into tears.

     “B-but... I’m s-so... So l-lonely... Since he d-died, and-” She wiped at her face.  Somehow, Cloud was managing to maintain an air of casual elegance, even with her eyes and nose running down her visage.

     “Shut up, Cloud.  Stop crying.  You’re ugly when you cry.”  It was a blatant lie, and River knew it was barely going to make the girl feel better, but actions, it is well known, speak louder than words.  Shortly after speaking, he put his arm around Cloud’s shoulder and steered her towards Market Square.  It looks like I’m going to market...  He thought, grudgingly.

 

The Market in Dalham town is not a market as you or I might know markets, for it is not a market of this world.  The closest one might get to describing it accurately would be to say that it is as markets in fantasy novels and fairytales, where witches sell their expertise, and one could easily find available for purchase any item ranging between a run-of-the-mill love potion to the colour of a lark’s song.  It is a setting in such one would be hard put to remain in a less-than-happy state of mind.

     Once the pair reached the Market, Cloud instantly became happy.  Whether it was the contagious buzz of the Market, or simply her own fickle personality, River couldn’t be sure.  He was simply glad that the girl was no longer crying.

     From each garishly-decorated stand or marquee, voices could be heard calling out, selling their wares.  Not having anything to barter with, River was of a mind to ignore them all, but Cloud dragged him towards a small tent from which a wizened old hag was selling some form of jewellery.  There were rings, necklaces bracelets, hairpieces- gold, silver, bronze, jade, amethyst, sapphire.  All beautiful, but none of such a beauty that River could appreciate it.  Cloud, however, in her shallow way, thought each piece was stunning.

     “Oh, River, look!  Look there!”  He looked.  The girl was indicating a thin silvery yet rope-like necklace, unadorned by jewels, which seemed to shift to various colours of the rainbow as the light hit different areas.  It was quite stunning.

     River looked at it, and appreciated that it was indeed unique.  He glanced at the stallholder.

     “How much is this... thing worth?” He asked, taking care to ensure that the salesman thought he viewed this necklace as something of very low value indeed.

     “Ahhh, a particularly fine necklace, sir.  A gift for the lady-friend, perhaps?”  The man grinned oddly and motioned towards Cloud.  River nodded curtly.

     “A price, my good fellow?”  He pressed.

     “This item is not for sale except to one whom it chooses.”  The man smiled.  “Perhaps the young lady would like to test it?”

     Cloud’s face erupted in glee, and the man moved to fasten the chain around her neck.  River stopped him quickly.  He knew this Market all too well.

     “Not so eager, old man.  What’s the catch?”  He stared at the stallholder.  An item so pretty and valuable as this necklace was bound to have some morbid association.  A curse, perhaps.

     “Catch?”  The old man smiled, a smile he obviously intended to be innocent.  He wasn’t fooling anybody.

     “Cough it up.”

     “The item has a certain...  legacy.”

     Both River and Cloud gazed at the man questioningly, and he began to explain.

 

***

 

Somewhere a little closer to home, in the dreary grey area of England known as Lancashire, a curly-haired seventeen-year-old was contemplating doing her coursework.  She didn’t want to.  She had had quite enough of college, and of psychology and of English language and of revision.

     Instead, she turned her attention to her bedroom window.  The sun was setting, tainting the clouds blood red.  She had always enjoyed sunsets, more so than sunrises.  Because sunset heralded the rising of the moon.

     Elise adored the moon.  There was something innately beautiful about the moon, glowing against the night sky, surrounded by little specks of light.  It brought out the artist in her.  It made her feel free.

     With a sigh of resignation, she pulled her psychology folder from her schoolbag and began to write.

    

Author's Note

This was one of those 'off the top of my head' chapters, so if it's a little... slap-dash... that's why.

Aside from that, there's the fact that I should, by rights, be asleep right now (almost one a.m.), and that I'm listening to jazz music, which I hate...
Yeah, this chapter could be alot better written.

As always, constructive criticism is wanted. I implore you to criticise. I want to know how I can improve.
:)

I keep re-reading this chapter, wondering where to take the plot, and how I can cause the worlds to crash into one another, therein making it perfectly plausible that our heroine and hero might meet.
But I don't want to kill River's world.
I might write a short side-story about Cadaver (River's (dead) older brother) and Cloud, and the engagement between them. That would be nice.
A nice, light, jokey story, just as a break from the main plot.
Hm... I like that idea. I shall come back to it.

Reviews

[Star Catcher]

--Mid-read--
"Now, as opposed to Summer, Autumn, Winter, and Spring, Britain enjoys varying stages of wet." - That wins so much. XD Actually, that entire paragraph wins.
I can tell Elise is a lot like you.
"In an altogether different country, in an altogether different climate, in an altogether different world, an altogether different person was doing something altogether different." - ...Altogether? XD I love it.

--Post-read--
I can't wait to see how these two come to meet! Their worlds are so different, it's intriguing...
Lovely story you've started here. River's world seems pretty awesome.

[Star Catcher]

I'm thinking that you should go back and change the interaction between River and Cloud now, since you've written the side Cadaver story and it seems like Cloud was more attached to River. In this chapter, it seems as if Cloud was in love with Cadaver, sort of. Or at least looking forward to marrying him.

[Callum Dalloway]

You may not want to, but it has to be done my dear.

""In an altogether different country, in an altogether different climate, in an altogether different world, an altogether different person was doing something altogether different." Love it. That is just so you and so great. It's a bit Neil Gaiman and a bit Lemony Snicket! =]

Keep going, you've done a great job. I already understand where the characters are going, they are easy to relae to but at the same time they still have things you don't know but want to you. A great, no, a perfect technique!!

I always feel intellectual on this website! We're all geeks and proud!

(I like the River Dal, even if I - I mean, it - killed someone. Kind of.

Dalham? What a lovely town name!!