So, here is chapter one, I hope you dont die of boredome...
The'______'s' are when I don't have a name for the place/person. Sorry, the italic din't get transferred from my word document, might be a little confusing...
I walked quickly through the dark street, footsteps light on the paving stones. I hated it here. At least it was rare to meet people at night. I heard a shuffle in a near by alley. A large shadow appeared. I shook my worry away. It was just a cat. I was going to be caught if I let myself get distracted. As I quickly past a shaft of moonlight, I heard some voices coming my way. I pushed up against the wall behind me as two men walked by. “Strange things going on I tell ya,” The first one, a large man with black hair said.
“There have been strange doings near Covird Bridge.”
That is what caught my attention, though I had been listening to the conversation from the start, this could be the beginning of something worth remembering. At least that’s what I told myself. Covird Bridge was a two days trip on horse back and was said to be the largest bridge in all of ________. I decided to follow them. I had time. And plus, I wasn’t following them for bad reasons, I just needed information.
“Don’t listen to rumors, Murray.” The other man said. He looked like a non-believer. Short, big belly and a nasty frown on his face. I couldn’t see his eyes. He turned and looked in my direction. I pushed up harder against the wall, holding my breath. For a brief moment I thought he would see me, but he just turned back to Murray.
“But it’s true!” Murray exclaimed “I was there just last week and the bridge was closed because of an incident they couldn’t explain.” Covird Bridge closed? This was strange. It was the only way to get from ________ to the main land. As the non-believer was about to reply, there was a large echoing crack from where I had been going, followed by a huge burst of flames and screaming. Someone must have known I was coming. I had to get out, and quick. The two men had turned and where staring wide eyed at the hungry orange flames, no more then a block away. I looked behind me. Perfect. There was an alley. I sprinted down it, trying to block out the cries of innocent people, trying to focus on the narrow, dark alley instead of the flickering orange shadows of the flames. As I ran, I heard voices shouting. They weren’t the cries. These where coming from the entrance to the alley. I looked back for a brief moment. There, standing at the end of the alley, was the non-believer, eyes cold and dark, black like a night stallion. There was blood dripping from his hands. I didn’t think it was his. I let out a quiet gasp, then ran even harder, pushing on to get out of the city as fast as possible.
☼☼☼
Waking up with a start, I realize there is water dripping on my face. I get up, and wiping the water from my eyes, remember where I am. Its not that I mind sleeping outside, in the open, on the contrary actually, it’s just that when you’ve been sleeping in a nice bed for the past week, you forget what it feels like. This is more like luxury. I go down to a small stream of water created by the recent plague of rain, and get a nice refreshing drink of water. I bend down to scoop up a handful, and remember that I had left everything at the Alliance inn. Standing up to steady myself, I look around. “Damn it..!” I curse under my breath. I bend back down and have a drink of water, seeing as my mouth is burning. I can’t go back now. I would probably be a suspect, only because of the non-believer. He had probably said it was me, running away and all. But that doesn’t matter. Going back to where I had woken up, I grab my sweater. I would need it later. It was the only thing I had, when I had to go. My stomach growls, surprising me and I look around nervously for a second.
I sigh.
I head down the hill; the dewy grass soaking my pant legs. I brake into a run, trying to find some pleasure in this cold gray world. I look up at the clouds. It would rain soon. I made a mistake looking up, because as I look up, my foot slips and I fall, the fall turning into me rolling down the hill. When I stop, I get to my feet and laugh. I begin to run again, making sure not to look up and too keep my eyes on the plain grass hill.
Before long, a small town comes into sight. I stop, and inspect its perimeters. It’s small. My guess is about 200 people. I shake my sweater, producing a small clinking. I smile. I have enough money to get me through the day. Hopefully. I finish the short descent, all along hearing thunder in the distance. I don’t know what time it is, the clouds are too think, but I know I don’t want to be out in a thunder storm, I’d been through that before. I walk up to the door, and sure enough, there is a guard. I didn’t expect there not to be. That would be stupid.
“What do you want?” The guard asks in a rough voice.
“I am a traveler, and I’ve run out of supplies.” I say.
“You, a traveler?!” He says with a laugh “Well ya better come in, the storms approaching.”
I stand back as the heavy wooden door swings out, missing me by a foot. There stands the guard, bushy red beard with powerful arms. Though he doesn’t look much like one, I can tell. Why else would he be standing at the gate all day? I assure you, it isn’t much fun. As I walk in, I hear the door close behind me. Many people hustled about. Oh great, I think it must be market day… I don’t like being around so many people. At the Alliance I had spent most of the time there in my small room. People just get in my way. I look around. My stomach growls, producing a loud gurgling that makes the nearest people turn and look at me. Only for a moment. I pull the money out of my pocket; One silver and two bronze. It will do, but I’m afraid I will have to work to get diner, not that I am afraid to work, but I don’t like people much. A delicious smell fills my nose. I look around. A bakery cart! I approach it slowly. A woman with a neatly braided strawberry blond bun is tending the stall. He face is slightly weathered by age but the kindness of a loving heart show plainly on it as she looks up at me.
“How can I help you dear?” She said kindly.
I point at an apple loaf “How much for that one?” I ask.
It isn’t very big, but it will be enough to keep me till sunset.
“One copper and a half, but we’ve had such a good day, how bought one copper?”
I take out my money, and give her one copper. “Thank you.” I say, smiling, and take the apple loaf over to a public bench.
Rain begins to gently trickle on to my face and hair. I don’t take much notice too it as I bite into the warm apple loaf. It is so good. The bread, soft and warm, freshly baked, and there is just the right amount of apple. I thank the woman in my head a thousand times. I don’t even have a half! This is probably the best town I’ve been to in the past two years. I finished the bread and inspect the area, then my money. I could probably get a room and food for the night, but then I won’t have any left. I decide to take the room. I walk over to the Sleeping Foal. I enter through the rounded oak door, not making a sound, and up to the bar.
“How much for a room?” I ask the man, standing on my tippy toes to look taller.
“Two silver.” He says, not paying much attention to me.
I get down and walk out. Once outside I sigh and sit down on a log, not even caring that the rain is now soaking through my sweater. I look up when I hear tinkling approaching me. There, looking down at me is a man, probably in his 20’s, with ebony brown hair, in a waistcoat.
“Hi.” I say.
He smiles “What’s wrong?” He asks casually.
“Um…nothing.” I reply.
I wasn’t going to admit to just anyone that I was out of money.
“I could help you,” He says casually, again, looking away into the distance for a moment.
“Help me?” I say, sounding as if I have no clue what he is talking about. I don’t.
“If you work for me, I’ll get you a place to stay and a meal.” He continues, more seriously now.
“You want me to work for you? It depends what type of work it is.” I say.
“How bout you come and find out…” He said.
I am uncertain. He reached out his hand, smiling. The wind begins to blow harder, slapping my hair into my eyes, and I think I hear voices. But that’s just crazy…isn’t it? Don’t do it… He’s not who you think… The wind is in your soul, not his… The last one shakes me, but then it stops. Yup, definitely going crazy… I was suddenly aware of the rain soaking my head.
I stand up. “No thanks…..” I say “I’ll find you if I change my mind…..” I turn and walk away before he can reply, but I can feel his gaze burning into my back.
I walk back over to the bakers stand, hoping to get out of this strange mans view. The woman there was nice.
She greets me with a smile. “Hello again dear.” She says “Can I help you?”
I smile “Actually, I was wondering if I could help you.”
Her face turns a rosy pink, but her eyes are smiling more then before. “That would be lovely dear. I was about to start packing up. There won't be many people anymore, and my bread is getting cold.”
For the next hour I helped her put all the remaining bread in baskets, then in her cart. By the time we where finished it was raining so hard I could barely see the other end of the town square.
“Would you like to stay at our house for the night? Its getting awfully dark and the storm…” She trails off.
“Tha-that is very kind of you.” I reply, choking a bit on the rain trickling down my face.
“It’s not a problem, we have an extra room and we love company.” She says.
I can barely hear her. The rain is so loud now, and I am soaked. Thunder crackles up above.
“Get in, quick!” She yells over the sound of the thunder and rain from the back of her horse. I jump easily into the back of the cart, and she sets spurs to her horse, then we are off, racing towards the cargo gate. Once we pass, we begin to gain speed, and I have to shield my eyes with my hand, for the rain whips hard against my face, feeling like thousands of needles piercing my bare skin.
Lightning flares across the sky, frightening the horse and sends it racing faster for the safety it knows at its home. A light appears in the distance. I let out a sigh of relief. Five minutes later we are pulling in at the farm house. A man comes running out into the rain, a blur of movement. He takes the horse’s reins as Sarah, the baker, dismounts. I jump out and grab a basket. A light goes on in one of the upper floor rooms. Someone comes to the window. I can’t see their face. I hand Sarah the basket, but it is very dark by now, and the rain hasn’t gotten lighter.
“Stack them two by two and then bring them in the house.” She tells me.
I begin to stack the baskets. The man comes back, and I hand him a pair of baskets and he rushes into the house. I grab a stack as well and head in. I don’t get a good look at the inside, for I leave right away to take another pair of baskets.
After we have brought them all in I stand at the door, looking around. Sarah comes in and closes the door.
“You’re very good at working fast.” She tells me.
I smile tiredly. She looks me up and down, and then rushes up a flight of stairs. I just stand there. It is nice. The room is lit up by candles and it is quiet. There is a table in one corner with a vase of flowers in the middle. The room isn’t fancy, but it is cozy. A fire burns at the opposite side of the table. Sarah comes back down the stairs and hands me a bundle of clothes. I don’t bother looking down at it.
“There's a bathroom just over there where you can change.” She says, pointing to a small door near the fireplace.
I walk over there and open the small door and look inside. There is a small sink in the far corner and a small bowl like toilet. I unroll the bundle and look at what it is. A blue long sleeved knitted shirt and a pair of long, warm pants. It is wonderful, I think. I take off my soaked shirt and ring it until I can’t get any more water out. I put on the blue shirt and instantly feel relieved. It fits perfectly, and it is so comfortable. I do the same with the pants then pick up my clothes and open the door. I see Sarah setting the table.
“What should I do with my wet cloths?” I ask her.
She looks me up and down again, and then smiles. “Here” She takes the clothes from me and disappears upstairs again.
I am left with nothing to do. I walk over to the fire and look into the flames. I get a sickening feeling in my gut as I remember that night with the fire. I turn away, jumping in fright as a boy of about fifteen stands right behind me. I hadn't heard him. He looks me up and down. What is it with these people and looking me up and down?
“Those are my sister’s cloths.” He says in a bit of a sigh. “Oh, um, Sarah-”
He cuts me off “My mother.” He says
“Umm… yeah, your mother, well she told me to wear them…” I look down at my bare feet
“Oh, I wasn’t meaning it that way; I was just pointing something out to myself. I do that a lot.” He says excusably
“Oh…”
Sarah comes back down, and begins to set the table again. I feel awkward under this boys eyes, so I shuffle away. He seems disappointed in a way, but goes away without pursuing me.
I walk over to Sarah. “Can I help with anything?” I ask
“No, I’ll be fine” She says. I sit down on the bench near the fire, avoiding looking at it. The boy comes over and sits down next to me. I stiffen.
“I’m Lysander,” He says, obviously trying to make conversations “What’s your name?”
I hesitate for a moment, trying to figure out if I should lie. I make my choice “I’m Claya.” I say at last.
I don’t care if he thinks I am lying, I had taken long enough.
“Claya…” He says, as if tasting the name.
He looks over at me, and stretches out his hand “Nice to meet you Claya.” He says.
I shake his hand.
“What brings you to this crazy shack?” He asks mysteriously.
“I heard that!” Sarah says, over from the kitchen now.
Lysander smiles.
“I'm travelling,” I tell him “And I don’t like sleeping outside in a storm.” The corner of my mouth lifts up.
“You sound like you’ve hade the experience.” He says
“Oh yes.” I reply. “Two years back there was a huge storm not far from here. All I had was a wool blanket. It was horrible.”
Lysander looked bewildered “I remember that storm. It ripped the roof off our chicken coop. I feel bad for you…” He trails off.
There is the sound of a bell coming from the kitchen. It is a clear, pure note.
Lysander stands up. “That’s the diner bell,” He explains “That means its time for dinner.”
“How many of you live here?” I ask as we approach the dinning table.
“Five. My sister, my father, my mother and I live here, but it’s a pretty big house.” He replies.
“Well, who’s the fifth?” I ask confusedly.
He looks a little unsure whether to tell me. “My uncle; don’t expect to see him much.” He says at last.
I thought he told me that so I would be more opened with him. Maybe he thought Claya wasn't my real name… there is a sound like approaching thunder up above, and soon a girl of about 12 comes running down the stairs. Sarah looks over and scolds her for being so loud, the girls face changing from pale beige to bright pink when she notices me, and then Lysander pulls me out a chair to sit on. I do, but I am wondering what he is trying to get at. We are soon joined by the man, and then I am served first as a means of ‘politeness towards guests’. I wait till everyone else is served before eating, though, for that is my means of politeness.
Dinner is amazing. There are sweet potatoes, carrots, blue potatoes, tomatoes, artichoke, chicken and one, big beautiful holarons squash. Holarons squash are rare, but taste delicious. Their probably my favorite vegetable. Yes, vegetable. They are not fruit as most squash are. They do not have seeds. At dinner the man began to ask me a few questions like: “So where are you from, Claya?” and “What brings you here?” and “How do you like dinner?”
“Where did you get the holarons squash?”
It is Sarah that replies. “We grow them.”
It is a simple answer and she doesn’t even look at me when she replies.
“I'm Jeffrey.” says the man, Lysander’s father.
To me, telling your name freely is a sing of trust. It comforted me. The only one left is the girl sitting at the opposite end of the table from me. She looks shy, not letting her blue eyes make contact with my green. Her face is crowned by her fiery red hair. I trust her. I trust her more then I have ever trusted someone that I don’t even know their name.
“Hi.” I say across the table to her. She doesn’t answer, but she dose look me straight in the face.
After dinner, Sarah asks me if I want to go straight to bed.
“Soon, but I wanted to talk to your daughter.” I reply
“Yes, I just thought you looked tired dear.” She replies and goes off to the kitchen.
The girl is sitting on the bench near the fire now, and I sit down beside her. “Hello,” I say as nicely as I can “I’m Claya. What's your name?”
She dose exactly the same thing I did when Lysander had asked me that, then she replies in a quiet voice. “Flaya. My name is Flaya.”
I take a moment to absorb the name. “That’s a nice name.” I say half to myself.
She turns to me, blue eyes more confident then before.
“So why are you here?” She asks. I smile. “I'm not sure myself,” I reply, “But I’m sure I’ll find out soon.”
She glances around, and when she is sure no one is listening, she whispers into my ear. “Beware of Lysander,” she says urgently. “He likes to play with your mind.”
A chill runs up my back. “Why are you telling me this?” I ask.
She shrugs. “He seems to have taken an interest to you.”
I look away and get up, a little embarrassed. “Well, good night then.” I say.
Flaya fiddles with a twig, “Don’t forget what I told you.” She replies as I hurry up the stairs.
When I get to my room there are extra blankets on the bed, in case it gets too cold. There is a small night table with a candle that I light immediately. It is chilly in the room, so a slip under the covers and pull them tight around me, and soon my body heat is surging through the entire bed.
I wake up suddenly. I probably hadn't been sleeping long, just enough time for everyone else to fall asleep. I throw the blankets off, and jump silently out of the bed. Creeping to the door, I put my hand soundlessly on the handle. Then, I open it suddenly. What I find surprises me.
“What are you doing?” I demand in a fierce whisper.
Lysander moves his hand quickly away from the door where he was about to knock.
He smiles innocently. “Nothing”
I glare at him. “You’re obviously doing something; creeping around at night, waking up guests, don’t you have any politeness?” I ask, relaxing a bit.
“I woke you up? But I was so quiet….” He trails off.
I sigh. “That’s what happens when you’ve lived like me for years.” I suddenly remember a question I had wanted to ask him. “Where is your uncle?”
Lysander looks surprised. “He's away. He went to _______ for some work. Don’t even ask what, only god knows.”
At the mention of _______ I get another sickening feeling in my gut. “What's your uncle’s name?” I ask curiously, expecting the worst.
“Murray.” He says, probably trying to figure out what I am getting at.
I suddenly feel dizzy, and have to grab the door frame to steady myself. Lysander reaches out to help me but I recover before he has time. His eyes are full of worry.
“Does your uncle happen to be a large man with black hair?” I ask in a shaky voice.
“Yes….How do you know so much about my uncle?” Lysander replies.
I ignore his question. “When are you expecting him back?”
Lysander hesitates. “Tomorrow…” he says.
I look down at the floor boards. “Don’t be surprised if he doesn’t.” I say, now looking up at him.
Lysander looks confused. I don’t blame him.
“Good night.” I say before he can reply, closing the door on him. He knocks. I ignore him and slip back into bed. After fifteen minutes he stops knocking and goes as well to bed. Only then do I finally fall asleep. I dream of a man with cold eyes and red blood dripping from his hands. I can imagine him killing Murray for knowing too much. In my dream I watch him, unable to do anything. Then, he turns and stairs straight at me, standing and marching towards me. I can’t move. I wake up three times from the same nightmare, and three times manage somehow to fall back asleep.
When I awake in the morning, the storm has passed and the sun is peeking through the clouds. I stretch and yawn, then get out of bed and walk quietly down the stairs. No one is up yet, which doesn’t surprise me. I am used to getting up at sunrise. The fire had died down to coals, but when I blow on them they flare up. By the time Jeffrey comes down the last step, I have the fire blazing. He looks a little surprised.
“Good morning Jeffrey.” I say smiling.
“Good morning Claya.” He replies “It’s nice that the storm passed, no?”
I look back down at the fire, prodding it with a stick and smile. “Yes, very nice.”
Sarah comes down and starts making breakfast. Flaya comes down a moment later in a long, purple nightgown, hair fluffed up like a scared cat, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
“Good morning Flaya.” I say quietly.
She comes and crouches down beside me, letting out a huge yawn. “How did you sleep?” She asks me tiredly.
I poke the stick into the fire again, burning the end. “Horribly.” I say honestly.
“Why?” She asks, her voice sleepy.
“I've been having nightmares lately.” I tell her, still prodding the fire. “Always the same one…” I don’t add anything else to the subject.
I look up as the floor boards creak. Lysander is looking down at us. I look back down at the fire.
“Who started the fire?” He asks his voice sleepy, too. Maybe you shouldn’t have woken me up. I think sarcastically.
“Me.” I say still looking into it.
I had grown accustomed to the sight of the fire by now. At least it doesn’t give me visions. I hear the same bell as last night, tinkling from the kitchen. I stuff my stick in the fire and go over to the table, Flaya and Lysander following. I wonder what it is like having a sibling. It must be fun. Well, if I where Flaya, I’d get annoyed with Lysander a lot. Maybe not… I sit down at the table were I had the previous night. Sarah gives us each a plate and a cup, and then sits down herself. On the table is a pitcher of a strange juice that smells sweet, but gives me a headache after a few minutes.
“What’s in the pitcher?” I ask curiously.
“Elder flower juice,” Sarah tell me. “It’s very sweet.”
I decide to try a bit, but am afraid it will give me a headache. Sarah cuts five pieces of bread and hands me one, then she gets up and disappears into the kitchen. Flaya passes me a jar with red jelly inside. As to not be rude, I take my knife and spread some on my bread. I take a bite. It is the sweetest cranberry jam I have ever tasted. I finish spreading it on my bread and pass the jar to Lysander. Sarah returns with five boiled eggs and gives us each one. She then cuts two tomatoes and gives me a few pieces before the others. They are delicious. I finish off my plate then wait for everyone else to. I fell a little odd, wanting to be off, but not at the same time.
Finally Sarah speaks. “Claya, seeing your work yesterday I was wondering if you wanted to stay a while and help with the farm. We could give you some supplies in exchange.”
I sit straight up in my seat and consider. I’m not in too big of a hurry, and I do need supplies…
“That would be fine.” I say.
I hadn't worked very often on a farm, but from experience I knew I could do it.
When everyone finished I tried to help Sarah clean up, but she wouldn’t let me. Jeffrey led Lysander, Flaya and me outside. The sun is shinning bright now and the clouds are almost completely gone.
“Claya, go feed and collect the eggs from the chickens with Flaya, then go over to the horses and clean up the stalls and give the horses a quick cleaning. I’ll be with the cows if you need me.” Jeffrey tells me. He starts walking towards a small building that reeks of cow manure.
I walk with Flaya to the chicken coop, the sound of clucking growing louder and louder.
Flaya hands me a basked with a blanket lining the bottom. “Collect all the eggs except for the ones that the white hen is sitting on.” She tells me. She grabs a bag of grain and disappears around the other side.
I approach the door and, opening it a little, am bombarded with chickens. I close it fast. I swallow, then open the door and push inside. It isn't as bad as I had imagined. There is a small door where the chickens can go in and out, a perch, and five boxes. In the boxes there are chickens, and sure enough, there is the white one.
I walk to one of the boxes that doesn’t have any chickens in it, stepping carefully around the chickens that don’t immediately run at my approach, and take the two eggs. Then I walk to a chicken, a fat black one, and am about to put my hand under her when she pecks me. I draw my hand back. She looks up at me menacingly. I grab my sleeve and pull it over my hand, then when she tries to peck me the second time, it doesn’t hurt. She has two eggs. They are warm. I put them in the basket. The next chicken dose not try to peck me, which I think is strange until I reach under her. She has no eggs.
I get one each from the next two and leave the white one in peace. She looks content as I close the door behind me. I find Flaya and give her the basket, then walk over to the horses.
There are three stalls but looking in, one of them is empty. There is a shovel, a broom, a brush and a rake leaning against the wall. I clean up the manure then take one of the horses out into the yard. I let it smell my hand, and then stroke its nose. It doesn’t seem nervous, which is good. I pick up the brush and start brushing off all the loose dirt and fur.
“She seems to like you.” Lysander’s voice comes from behind.
I turn around to face him.
“Tell me Claya,” He says, leaning against a post, his expression serious. “What is it you’re running from?”
I look him straight in the eyes, not letting go of the horses’ reins. “What makes you think I’m running?” I counter.
His expression doesn’t change. “I'm serious Claya.”
I look back at the horse. I’m entirely sure. “What everyone’s running from,” I say. “My destiny.”
He looks a little on edge. “And what,” He swallows. “May that be?”
I smile. “Now that is something I don’t know.”
He walks over to the horse, and strokes her nose. “Her name’s Iloy.” He says. “It means running wolf.”
I look at Iloy. Slim with black legs and a brown mane. Her body is burgundy that blends with the black where her legs attach to her body. She is beautiful.
“You should see her run.” Lysander says. “Then you’d understand her name.”
I look at him. He seems lost in a completely different world.
“Is she your horse?” I ask.
“Yeah.” He replies after a moment. “She’s the best.”
I look up, and then remember that I am working. “I should probably finish this.” I tell him, then quickly finish brushing her and go and get the other horse.
By the time I am done not much time has passed, so I sit down on the railing. I watch the sparrows swoop down and play in a puddle for a while, until the faint tinkling of the meal bell rings in my ears. I jump down from the railing, scaring the sparrows and sending them chirping away. I run half way, and then do a few cart wheels. It is nice here, I think to myself quietly. I open the door and walk inside. Sarah is in the kitchen humming to herself. I wonder what is going on. I walk over to the kitchen and poke my head in. “Hello Sarah.” I say. “Hello dear.” She replies. “What is it you need for supplies?” She asks me.
I think for a moment. “A warm blanket and some food,” I say. Of course I need a lot more then that, but I don’t like asking.
She stops humming and looks at me. “Oh dear,” She says, “I know you need more then that. I rang the bell to get everyone here to help with your supplies.”
I look around. “I don’t think they heard it…” I say uncertainly.
Sarah looks out of the window. “They’ll be here soon.” She says with certainty in her voice. “Everyone has grown to like you in the very short time you’ve been here.”
I stare at my feet. “You don’t know what you’re getting into.” I mutter under my breath, to quiet for her to hear, my hands clenched slightly hanging at my sides.
I hear a sound like a thousand running mice approaching the door. Sarah doesn’t seem to notice. It stops right outside the entrance, then slowly, the door opens. My heart begins to beat fast, so fast I think it will pop out of my chest. The door suddenly opens wide, and there, standing in the door way is… Lysander. I roll my eyes.
“What was that about?” I demand
Lysander smiles. “What was what about?” he counters.
I glare at him. “Never mind, what took you so long?”
He looks around the room. “Where is everybody?” He asks
“That’s what I was wondering.” I reply. “Maybe you should go get them.”
Lysander ignores me, still looking around, and then goes back out through the door, closing it behind himself. I lift my eyes to the ceiling. It’s official. He annoys me. I walk back to the kitchen and watch Sarah from a distance until she notices me and shooes me away. I find myself in the dinning room and look around. The fire is burning low, obviously untaken care of, and I can hear the wind blowing outside.
The door opens.
Jeffrey comes in with Flaya. “Where’s Lysander?” Jeffrey asks.
I hit myself in the face. “He went out to find you.” I say
Jeffrey paused for a moment, and then seems to make up his mind. “We better stay here then. He’ll be back soon.”
Sarah comes out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. Jeffrey walks over to her and whispers something into her ear. “…..Went to…..no idea ….” is all I hear.
I guess he expected me not to hear, but I do, even if that is all I hear. I guess Lysander had gone out for another reason then to find his father and sister, knowing they were coming. I sit down on the floor, and stare straight at the door. I can feel their questioning eyes upon my back. I don’t blame them. A fly buzzes past.
I hear footsteps on the porch, and then the door handle turns, allowing the door to swing in smoothly. Lysander steeps in. I get up. All eyes are on him.
“What?” He asks.
I smile. Turning on my heels, I see Flaya’s blue eyes turn dark as a pond does when a cloud rolls up above.
She smiles, noticing my change in expression. “They do that all the time,” She explains. “Depending on my mood.”
I smile again.
“Ok Sarah, every ones here. Can we start?” Jeffrey asks his wife.
She nods, then walk over to the table where a bag had been placed. I go over, and look inside. It contains my pants, shirt and sweeter.
“We all have ideas of what you might need.” says Sarah. “For example this blanket.” She says pulling a folded woolen blanket off the chair. “And this holarons squash.”
My eyes widen. Jeffrey walks into the kitchen and comes back out with five carrots, five blue potatoes and a loaf of bread. I see Lysander walk over to his mother and whisper something into her ear. I don’t catch it, but I see his hand reach toward the bag. A tinkling sound catches my attention. Sarah is holding a small leather pouch.
“Why are you doing all this?” I ask
It is Flaya who replies. “We don’t get visitors often, and when we do they don’t leave empty handed.” She smiles at me.
Sarah sees that I don’t look happy. “Don’t worry,” She says. “Its only three silver and two bronze.”
I relax a bit. Even though three silver and two bronze is a lot to me, it isn't very much for them. Most people with a house had at least twenty gold in all, and this isn't a poor family.
I am dumb bound. “I don’t know how to repay you…” I trail off.
Sarah shakes her head. “You being a little better off is the best we can ask for. If you’re ever back this way, come by and say hello.” She smiles at me.
I look from one to the other, then realize Lysander isn't there anymore.
“Where's Lysander?” I ask
Jeffrey looks around. “Maybe he went upstairs…”
I sigh. “Well that’s ok.” I assure them. “But I should probably be off. I want to make it some ways before night fall.”
Sarah hands me the bag and they all wish me good fortune. Thought it pains me, I know it is the best that I am off, for them. I only bring bad luck to those that help me, I had to be off.
I head out the door and, saying good bye one last time, head onto the dirt road, right where I had started.
, dont get mad if you find yourself imagining someone with(ex.)blue hair and snake eyes, then find out that the main character is a dolphin with wings(the beauty of first person):P
