Chapter 1

This is a story I am writing about a world where magical creatures once lived in peace with humans. However, Humans became afraid of what they didn't understand and began to kill of the magical beings

The air smelled of death and smoke. The land was silent as the ash blew through the air like snow, not a soul could be seen or heard in the once peaceful valley of the Elves. Bodies were scattered here and there, though most had burned in the fires that had been lit to destroy the beautiful structures that once graced the area.

Darkness was creeping into the valley and Cáel wanted to be swallowed by it. The place that had once been his home was destroyed, all he loved-dead and gone. The smell filled his lungs and a sense of loss washed over him; or at least, what he thought was the sense of loss. Sadness and pain seemed to elude him whenever his mind took him back to this moment. It seemed his mind didn’t know how to comprehend the emotions he was supposed to feel at just such a loss. He took another deep breath and slowly exhaled.

Gold eyes opened abruptly, darkness causing no hindrance to their sight. Cáel lay on his back starring up into the night sky that surrounded him as he meditated. He inwardly sighed as he realized he had allowed himself to be distracted again. He stretched and sat up slowly, allowing his senses to feel any shifts in the area around him. Nothing had changed since he had picked the spot near a small out-cropping of trees. “Good.” He thought as he settled back against one of the smaller. “I enjoy quiet nights.” He pulled a dark, hooded cloak up further around his face, obscuring it in shadow.

Cáel stayed there until the sun began to creep over the grassy hills that rolled across the land before him. He stood and stretched; his long, lean body moving with cat-like grace. The land seemed to beckon to him, pulling him ever towards the north, and he was ready to discover if this was the place for which he searched.

 

 

Fiery red hair, knotted together with straw, framed a fair face smudged with dirt. Sleep held her hostage in peaceful dreams, enough so, that the sun shining in her face could not wake her. So deep was her peacefulness that the freckled boy standing in the loft beside her second guessed his decision to wake her. The guessing did not last long however, and a bucket of cold water sloshed over the sleeping girl. With a shriek she was sitting up in the straw, a look of horror written across her lightly freckled face. She starred at the boy, who stood grinning at her.
“Good mornin’, Brey. Mum says to be down to wash in ten minutes or you won’t be gettin’ any breakfast afor work.” Brey raised an eyebrow.

“And how long ago did she tell you that?” The lad grinned devilishly.

“Abou’ five minutes ago, I should guess.” Brey growled and grabbed at the lad before her who jumped back laughing merrily.

“Get back here, Grant, or I’ll feed you to the wolves!” She jumped up after the boy and threw some straw at him as he slid down the ladder and ran howling out of the barn. She threw her hands up and sighed, looking around for her clothes.

Brey dressed quickly and rushed towards the house, picking straw from her hair as she went. She burst through the door and smiled brightly at her father who sat beside the small hearth, whistling merrily as he put more logs on the fire.
“Morning, Da! I had the most amazing dream last night…it was about grand-dad. He said to say ‘ello an’ tha’ he is sorry but he will no longer be visiting us. Not that it is amazing that we won’t see him again…that part made me cry, but he told me wonderful stories and I think I even got to see images of where he went. It was beautiful. The buildings were so lovely and…”
“Alrigh’ now, tha’ would be enough of that.” Brey’s mother’s voice was tight with irritation. Brey glanced at her father and his expression told her all she needed to know. It was market time, and mum was feeling it.
“I’m sorry, mum. I just didn’t want to forget. It seemed very urgent that I tell Da’ all about it, since we may never see Grand-dad again.”
“Don’t be silly, Brey. I’m sure your Grand-dad is fine. He will visit again when the time suites him, he always does. No need to worry your father abou’ such things. T’was only a dream.” Brey opened her mouth to protest, both her father and Grand-dad had told her that dreams were special-they could connect you with the ones that you loved and warn you of events to come- but a look from her father told her that now was not the time. She sighed and sat down at the small table, awaiting her duties for that day, and watched her parents quietly.

Brey’s mother, Mrs. McLerran, was a strong woman with firm features. Her hair was black as night with streaks of silver gracing its long waves. Though she was shorter than many of the other townsfolk, she was by far one of the strongest and loveliest. Her black eyes contrasted against her pale skin and, though she was poor, she wore the grace of a lady in all that she did. Because of this, she had become a leader among her people and they looked to her for wisdom in many areas.

Brey’s father, in contrast, was a quiet man. He mostly kept to himself, enjoying the duties of the farm and allowing his wife to keep the peace of the surrounding peoples. His face was angular with sharper features, though somehow made gentle with age, and his eyes were a shade of blue comparable only to his daughter, Brey’s. His hair, always pulled into a short braid, was a golden, strawberry blonde. Grey had never touched it. 

Brey found herself lost in thought and almost didn’t hear her mother’s exclamation over the state of her daughter’s clothing. Brey snapped out of it and blinked rapidly as her mother pulled her out of the chair and began ushering her into the bedroom.

“I cannot believe you haven’t washed up yet! It is nearly time to be heading into the market and you are still half asleep.” Mrs. McLerran eyed her tall, slender daughter critically for a moment before turning to the chest that had been a wedding gift. She opened it carefully and pulled out a long, dark green dress. Brey watched her curiously as she returned and held out the elegant dress.

“Brey, my dearest, you know that the fall market is the biggest event of the year. It is time for you to participate in the pleasantries of it.” She offered the dress to her daughter. “I made this for you. I hope it will fit… I’m afraid you have grown some since I originally planned for you to wear it.” Brey’s mouth was open.

“But…but, Mum… I am going to be much older than the others. They will not want me. I had already settled myself to be content as an old maid. You need me here…” Brey’s sapphire eyes sparkled sadly. Her mother shook her head gently.

“No, Brey. Grant is old enough now to help and your father is healthy again. Tis time for you to become a woman now. I am sorry to have kept you from it.”

          Brey’s thoughts were racing. She thought she had been lucky when her mum had told her 4 years earlier that she would be unable to participate. She had never desired to be married off or even entertain the notion that one of those boys might actually find her interesting. They had never liked her, she was far too strange for them, and they had never made sense to her. But now, that was changing. What was she going to do? ‘I dunna wan’ to hurt mi mum’s feelings…’ She sighed and accepted the dress.

“It’s beautiful, Mum. I will wear it proudly. Will you help me get ready? I dunna if I can put this on by myself.” Mrs. McLerran smiled brightly and nodded.

“You will be the most beautiful girl in the whole Marketplace.” Brey smiled weakly, doubting her mother’s kind words.

 

 

          Cáel walked patiently along, the rolling hills had finally opened into a valley and the gleaming ocean could be seen on the horizon. He glanced around the valley and spotted a few farms and a small village further in. A small caravan was traveling slowly towards it, laughter and music ringing gaily from within it. Cáel raised an eyebrow and continued his decent, his black cloak swishing behind him.

          It wasn’t long before Cáel met with a road leading towards the village. He considered carefully the option of following it, and the calls of his heart lead him ever towards this little place, so he complied. It would take him most of the day, but come late afternoon, he should be within the village. His mind began to calculate the many outcomes of his arrival, planning carefully the way in which he would present himself. If this place was truly the one for which he had been searching, it should readily accept him and be all that he needed. There he would settle. However, if it was not what it seemed, there would be many questions to answer, but for the time being, it was best to just keep moving. Hope could wait.

 

 

          The small town of Wick was quickly filling with people from outlying villages, each bringing their own contribution to the Fall Market. Children ran through the streets shrieking and laughing as the adults set out their wares to catch the eyes of anyone who might pass by. The sun peeked out through the grey clouds, as though welcoming the travelers, caressing their faces with warm kisses and staving off the chill that was threatening to take hold.

          Brey, dressed in a dark green dress with gold trimming, tugged at the thick fur cloak that draped serenely around her tall form. The air was still and the smells of the market clung to it, making it difficult to discern what smell came from where. She looked about awkwardly, trying to decide where best to start. A handful of girls, a few years younger than she, stood around the Jewelers table, giggling and whispering to one another as a group of young men walked past and nodded to them. Brey took a deep breath and decided against joining them. Rather, she turned and walked down the street, trying to ignore the raised eyebrows and whispers of those who saw her. She didn’t want to know what they were saying, though she could probably guess; their faces said it all.
“It’s the McLerran girl…what is she wearing?”

“Does she intend on joining the others?”

“Isn’t she to old a lass for such frivolity?”

“Poor lass, no laddie in his right mind would desire her company…Far too strange a lass.”

          Brey’s face began to grow pink as the thoughts bombarded her mind. She tried to shake them when a voice cut through them for her. “Is that the McLerran lass? Why, she’s as tall as ol’ Patrick’s horse…Oh that’s right, it isn’t a horse, is it, lassie?” Brey’s blue eyes bore into the young man standing in front of her. She was nearly a head taller then he, but he stood before her with a cocky grin and laughing eyes, waiting for the humiliation to flood her cheeks. When she didn’t say anything, the man continued.

“I believe that you called it, what was it…Ah, tha’s right, a unicorn.” Those standing nearby laughed out loud as he spoke. Brey wrinkled her nose and felt as her cheeks turned bright red. She turned away from him and tried to walk past. He reached out and grabbed her arm.

“Ah, ye don’t ‘ave to leave yet, Las, the fun is only jus’ beginnin’.” Brey eyes darkened noticeably and her hair seemed to shift into a brighter color red. She looked down at the man before her and spoke carefully.

“Ye will let go of me, Ned. Don’ make me say it twice.” Her voice was icy enough that he let go, his own eyes growing wide for a moment. He stepped back and bowed mockingly.

“Say ‘ello to yer mum for me dad. I’m sure she’d love to hear from ‘im.” Brey’s temper flared remembering events years passed in which Ned’s father had claimed an affair, trying to break her family into submission to him… for power, that twas all.

          Without warning, Brey’s arm swung back and landed a hard blow across Ned’s face, sending him sprawling backwards. Everyone gasped and their expressions changed from good humor to that of pure shock. Brey didn’t care. Without hesitation, and without looking back, she turned and quickly resumed her walk out of town.

          It didn’t take her long to reach her destination. The breeze whipped at her cloak and dress as she stood atop one of the many cliff-sides that lined the coastline. Hot tears streamed down her face, and her heart hurt. So many years of this ridicule; the laughter and angry glances reminding her to keep her ability to herself…it had always been this way. Even when she was a child she had seen things differently from those around her. Her grand-dad always said it was a gift-the towns-people did not agree. Those that knew the truth became angry when she pointed it out, and those who didn’t thought she was crazy. She took a deep breath, the salty air cleansing her lungs and chilling her insides. She wiped her face and pulled the cloak closer to her, fidgeting with the clasp at her neck. She looked out longingly over the sea and allowed her thoughts to wander away from the torment she felt inside and instead focused upon the strange call that seemed to poor from her soul in an endless song. She wanted it to be heard…she wanted to get away. “There has to be more than this…there must be, or I shall not survive.” She dropped the ground at the cliffs edge and began to sing a sad lullaby, her heart wishing for Truth, her voice carried across the breeze lighting upon ears that she never knew were there.

 

          Cáel paused as he felt the pull like never before. However, it did not come from the town, but beyond, along the coast. He shifted his direction accordingly and sped up; curious as to what this strange thing was that called to him and seemed capable of movement. ‘Apparently it is not the place that calls at all…What, then, could it be?’ A song, wrapped in sadness, reached his ears and into his soul. It was a familiar feeling, one that he wished not to remember. He tried to shake the feeling that accompanied the song and instead follow it to its source.

          Cáel reached the coastline and looked around for some time before he was able to discern the location the song came from. Then he spotted it. A girl sat alone on the cliff-top, lost in song and thought. He raised an eyebrow as he watched the emotions shift across her face in waves and wondered for a moment if she were a shifter. Further observation seemed to confirm his question, for in a span of a few moments her hair had changed from fiery red to a deep auburn and back again. He sighed and took a deep breath, wondering if it was even worth talking to her. ‘Shifters are so unpredictable…one moment they are trustworthy and the next, well, they are not someone you should have even thought twice about.’ He shook his head and decided to watch her for a time before coming to any conclusion one way or another. His observations should tell him all he needed to know of her and this village she came from. ‘Perhaps she carries that which calls to me…though I cannot fathom why.’ He then placed himself a good distance away, but within earshot, and waited, locking himself within once more.

 

 

          Brey finished her song and sat in silence for a while, allowing the breeze to blow away her sadness. The sun was just creeping beneath the horizon when she final stood and brushed herself off. She took a deep breath, preparing herself for the adventures the night would bring. She turned to return the way she had come, but a flash of something black caught her eye. She paused and looked carefully in the direction she had noticed it, but saw nothing. She furrowed her brows and glanced nervously around. Her senses tingled as though something was near, but everywhere she looked, it was gone. The shadows began to creep closer to where she stood and she found herself fearing what was in them. Brey pulled her cloak close and bolted for the town, moving with surprising speed.

          As Brey drew closer to the town, she slowed her pace and tried to catch her breath. Lanterns were being lit throughout the town, and music was playing gaily from somewhere within. She blinked away the fear in her mind and followed the music to the town square where a gathering had formed to listen to the group of fiddlers and Pipers that had gathered there. A young lad, still in his in-between years, rushed out from a nearby house holding a hand drum and joined in, beating the drum happily. Brey smiled and decided to join the musicians with a song. She slipped up behind them and added her voice in counterpoint to the other instruments, allowing the sweet tone of her voice to flow through the square and into the town. If there was one thing that could be said of Brey, it was that her voice could create the most beautiful song in the village…or so it was said. Brey didn’t believe them, but she didn’t care. Her love of singing was one of the things in this world that gave her comfort and helped bring the truth to her mind.

          The music continued for some time and dancer’s joined into the merry-making and soon tankards of ale and whiskey were brought out to be shared among the many. Laughter and off-key singing was the result. Brey fell silent as the musicians began playing songs that she didn’t know. She watched the people, from her village and others, drown themselves in the whiskey that they loved. Sadness pulsed in her veins when she noticed a handful of Stranglings-those that weren’t what they pretended to be- grouping together and whispering; trying desperately to remain unnoticed and hidden among the regular folk. Brey shook her head and looked away when one of them noticed her watching and gave her a dirty glance before sending the rest of them scattering amongst the crowd.

          Brey’s heart ached for these creatures that desperately hid amongst the people, pretending to be normal. She had always seen them as they were-believed they were beautiful that way- but they did not agree. They felt the others would hate them; the same way they hated Brey. She took a deep breath and willed herself not to succumb to the tears forming in her eyes. She stepped away from the crowd and found a safe place away from the others where she could sit and still see what was going on. She found a small place on a barrel and leaned against a nearby wall, her blue eyes reflecting the light from the many lanterns surrounding the square. She reached into herself and felt for the familiar song that always lived there. She wanted to dive into it, let it drown her in the secrets that it held. A hand on her shoulder shattered her concentration.

“Hello, Miss Brey.” A green-eyed young man with chestnut colored hair stood next to her, a concerned expression on his scruffy face. Brey took a deep breath and allowed a laugh to escape her red lips.

“Charlie, ye silly man, ye nearly scared the life out of me! What are you doin’ ‘ere?” He smiled a kind smile and leaned against the wall next to her.

“I saw you leave the party, and I wanted to make sure that you were alright.” His voice was rich, with a strange accent, and Brey loved it. It was said that Charlie, a boy from a neighboring village, had been rescued by one of the villagers from the wreckage of a ship that had found its way to this side of the Island. No one knew where it had come from, and Charlie would tell no one anything about his past. Brey looked fondly at the young man and shrugged.

“I am alrigh’, I should guess. I jus’ feel too old to be a part of this. I shoul’ ‘ave been married years ago…I am an ol’ maid now. I guess I jus’ dunna feel like I belong ‘ere anymore” she watched as surprise flitted across his face.

“I don’t agree, Miss Brey! I think you are the most beautiful young lass here. Don’t you let anyone tell you differently.” Brey felt her cheeks flush and was about to talk further when her senses felt a shift in her song. She looked around carefully, remembering the feeling she had felt at the cliffs. There was nothing that stood out to her…but the shadows seemed to darken nearby and the air grew chilled around her. She pulled her cloak closer and looked at Charlie with a smile.

“Perhaps you would dance with me then? I haven’t had a dance in so very long… I’m afraid I will lose my touch if I don’t get in a little practice.” Charlie’s eyes widened and he began to stammer.

“But, Miss Brey, I do not know how to dance…and I was thinking we could just talk? I have stories I could tell you. I’m sure that you would love them. You always did enjoy your grand-dad’s stories of fairy creatures and faraway places. I have lots of those… and they are about my land. Please… I would love to share them with you.” Brey’s eyes sparkled at the thought and she grabbed Charlie’s hand and jumped off of the barrel. She stood a little less than eye-level from him, and he was one of the few who could say that. She squeezed his hand and smiled brightly.

“Oh! Would you? I would love to hear them! But not here… let’s find someplace faraway from here.” Charlie raised an eyebrow, his smile never leaving his face.

“We could go to our old secret spot.” His voice was a whisper and sent shivers down Brey’s spine.

“We ‘aven’t been there since before Da was sick…but that sounds great. I’ll meet you there… I just need to make sure Grant gets home, or me Mum will ‘ave me ‘ead. Wait for me there, I’ll be there soon, I promise. I wouldn’t miss your stories for the world.” She leaned up and kissed his cheek gently before adding. “You are a life-saver, Charlie. Thank you.” She then picked up her skirts and dashed into the crowd, calling for Grant.

          Charlie smiled brightly to himself as he watched the red-headed lass dash around for her brother. His heart hummed happily at the thought of finally spending a night alone with her…it was a thought that had plagued him for many years; yearning for just the right time to tell her of his feelings for her. He tucked his red cloak around him and slipped out of town and into the darkness, allowing his mind to wander back into his past, creating stories that he could share with the woman he wished to spend the rest of his days with.

Author's Note

The name Wick is an actual place where I am getting my ideas from for setting. If you have an idea for a different name, please let me know! Also, The name Brey is over used in my stories... A suggestion for this character's name would be fabulous!

Reviews

[Chris Williams]

Nicely done. I like it. Everything flows together well. I like that there's already a lot of mystery in the main characters without making the narrative overly ambiguous.

[joshua deathdealer]

Hey this is great. Full of imagery and the story is captivating. Excellent work.

[Tasha]

That's really cool that you got the name from the place you got ideas from. This was a good chapter and I can't wait to read more. I suggest the name Ryan, I don't really know why.
♥ Ta'Shandra