Chapter Three
[i]I sit by the firelight. The flickering arms of the fire reaching out to take hold of me. The walls around me moving along with the shadows. I feel burdened with the weight of loss. Then, an explosion of color and beauty. White and silver swirls on the edge of my vision. Stars the color of crimson wine. Olive branches dripping gold into deep, murky water. My feet hit the ground like a drum sounding a death beat. A blue silk cloak billows out behind me. A small bag bumps against my thigh. I hold a pearl handled dagger. I don’t know what hunts me. Every time I turn around I catch a glimpse of a black lifeless grin, mocking me, waiting to kill. Every time I turn around it seems to come ever closer. Up ahead a soft violet light. As it grows closer I feel calmer almost happy. I reach the light, a crystal door. I extend my hand to embrace the light, the soft violet haze. Then a black void. I fall forward. Down, down, down. Deeper with every passing second. Never to end, doomed for eternity. [/i]
I slowly became aware of my surroundings. Too weak to open my eyes, I could feel the coldness that enveloped my body. My limbs felt frozen and my right eye was swollen to the size of an orange. I tried to recall what happened the night before and how I ended up here, with no sight and coldness all around me. I remembered the fight with Father, but then what had happened? I had gone into the forest, I had wanted to...to cry. Then...then I tried to run home, but I became lost. And a wolf. There was a wolf. A black wolf, who touched me and made the pain go away.
Pain.
There had been pain.
The wolf had taken my pain away. It helped me. But they have killed so many of my villagers. Why would the wolf have left me alive? Why did it not kill me, or drag me off as it did Aliyah's brother so long ago? But of course, until I opened my eyes, I would not know if the wolf had not in fact dragged me off into the forest. Though I was sure I would feel more pain if that had taken place.
The icy coldness seemed to melt away as soon as a ray of sun hit my face. I opened my left eye slowly, for my right was swollen shut. I sat up, the pain from my head dull and distant. Looking around, I could see I was still sitting in the forest. In the exact spot in which I had been laying the night before. The rain was gone, but I was soaking wet. Dew had formed on the leaves on the ground, and on my legs and arms. A thin layer of frost also fell upon my bare legs and lightly clothed body. A shiver of coldness ran down my body. It is a miracle I did not freeze to death in the night.
I only then realized that my left wrist was stinging.
I lifted it, gasping, the quick intake of breath hurting my parched throat. On the back of my hand there lay a diamond shaped design of crisscrossing lines, each a rich black. It was as if the design was etched into my skin. The lines were a tiny bit raised from my pale skin, like a scar would be, but the skin was black. If it was even skin. The design was large, from the center of my middle finger to halfway between my wrist and elbow. The outer edges were swirls and stripes standing vertical one another. The inner space was filled with intricate flowers, dots, swirls, and diamonds. The designs were thick in some areas, like the dots and very thin in other areas, like the swirls.
“Its beautiful,” I whispered, my voice scratchy d not sounding like my own.
I became more and more aware of the world around me as I gathered the courage to stand up and try walking. I stood, holding the tree beside me for support. My limbs were stiff with cold, and my head spun in circles. My arrows and bow were attached to my back, so I need not worry about them. In the distance I could hear the sound of rushing water. I then knew I wasn't lost, remembering what Casimir had taught me when I was younger. To find the river and follow it South, according to where I was, and that I would always find the village pool. I followed the sound of running water until I pushed aside a bush and the river lay before me. The opposite side was perhaps forty feet away, and the water was black and flowing faster than normal. How far must I be from the village?
I looked into the sky, located the sun and smiled, for all I had to do was walk straight along the rivers edge and I would end up home.
I made my way very slowly and painfully as my knees painstakingly warmed up as slow as they could. I moved alongside the river for an hour or so until a tiny plume of smoke was visible in the distance. A smile spread across my face, then I froze where I stood. What is Father going to do when I return? What will Mother do? What will the chief do if he...I need to hide the marking. Everyone in the village knows that if a wolf touches them or hurts them they have to be banished. Years ago, an old man had returned from the forest just as I am, with a similar marking on his leg. Thats when the rule came about that you are forbidden to have contact with the wolves.
No one must ever see my marking.
I ripped off a piece cloth from my cold tan dress and wrapped it around my wrist, in order to hide the wolf marking. I also used a little of my dress to bandage my knuckles, which had grown thin scabs over the cuts while I had been unconscious.
My stomach rumbled as I started towards the village once more.
After I stumbled for a short distance, I came across the bathing pool of the river. And once I found that, I headed down the small dirt path towards home, afraid of what Father would say or do to me as punishment. As the village came into view, I ducked behind a tree.
If anybody sees me they would believe I wave been hunting, and they will turn me into the chief. I would get banished. If I somehow managed to get into the house with nobody seeing me...thats pretty much impossible. I glanced around the tree trunk and saw two men standing on the path in front of the village talking quietly. I turned back around.
I could leave my bow and arrows here, but the question is, would someone find them?
I kneeled behind the tree, trying to decide what to do, then removed my bow from my back. I put it on the ground beside the tree, alongside the quiver, and covered them with grass and dirt. Then, I stood. I felt my forehead, the swelling having not gone down one bit, though, strangely, no blood poured through the still open cut. I accidentally stumbled over a root and into the pathway and towards the village. My limbs were still stiff and aching and cold, but I could walk okay.
As I came closer to the two men, one of them noticed me and called out. I watched him run over to me, and the second man follow him. They took my underarms on their shoulders and helped me towards the house.
“What happened, Aralyn?” the first man asked, who was named Hunter.
“I...I got lost,” I whispered, my throat parched and itchy.
“We'll take you home, okay?” the second man asked, who was younger and I knew not the name of.
I nodded weakly, my head beginning to ache once more and my eye making the world spin around me. I stumbled to the right, and Hunter had to grab me to keep me from falling. I felt woozy and disoriented. Hunter picked me up and I sighed with the pleasure of not having to walk anymore, letting my arms hang by my sides. I lay my head on Hunters chest and closed my eyes, letting his quick and jerky movements lull me to sleep.
I slept for only a few moments that seemed like long hours, until Hunter entered my home and I awoke. Mother screeched loudly and dropped her wooden spoon, running over to me. Ordering Hunter to lay me on my cot, she thanked the two men and asked them to leave. Hunter and the other man stepped out of the house as Mother turned to me. Before she came over, she took her dish cloth and soaked it with warm water. Then she sat down on the my cot beside me and dabbed my head with the wet towel. I winced as it stung my cut.
“Oh, my poor baby,” she cooed.
“Mom, I-” I began.
“Not right now,” she whispered, holding a finger to my lips. I wanted to cry, but no tears were left in my eyes. I had used them all up the night before.
“Does Father hate me?,” I said, trying to sit up. She pushed me back down. Her eyes became clouded with sternness.
“You will go to sleep right now, and you will make a sincere apology to your Father when he returns from work tonight. Understand?” she ordered, dabbing my head once more.
“Yes,” I mumbled.
“Good, now go to sleep. Now.”
“Mmm,” I agreed as I lay on my cot, my eyes closed and yet my mind not ready to sleep. The black wolf had simply walked up to me and touched me. No attack, no nothing. What am I supposed to believe now? Are the wolves truly evil?
Or are they not?
The bright morning sun pierced my eyes the next day and made me squint my left eye. I had never woken up last night, not for dinner and not to speak with Father. I reached up and pulled my straw hat down to cover my face and my swollen right eye. In fact, the swollen area was growing black. Now, I could feel the pain clearly, though I ignored it most of the time. A light autumn breeze interwove with my black locks, which were smoother than usual today. Mother sat across from me in our small garden behind the house, pulling sweet carrots from the ground. I reached into the bush before me and felt my fingers close around a bean pod. The outside of the pod was covered in tiny hairs that tickled my skin. I smiled, picking it off the branch and throwing it into my small straw basket already half full with beans.
We had to harvest the rest of the food today, for winter was closing in on us very quickly.
I flicked an ant off of my ankle as I discovered a worm on one of the bean pods and squished it immediately. Is Father mad at me? Well, of course he's mad at me! But am I going to get the silent treatment from him? I don't know, but I dread it.
I stood, wiping the dirt from my red apron. Striding back into the house, I emptied the beans into a wooden bowl and washed them with warm water. As the dirt soaked off of them, I removed my apron and folded it, laying it on the table. Baby Hui slept inside his crib, his tiny head of dark curls messy. His pudgy cheeks were a soft pink, his fingers short fingernails no larger than a fly. I leaned over the side of his swinging crib and kissed him softly on the forehead.
Returning to the beans, I removed them from the sink and sat at the table with them spread out on Mothers towel. Silently, I began to peel the pods away from the peas. The work was tedious and slow, I sat for hours, peeling them and allowing the peas to fall into a second empty bowl. They were a bright lime green, shiny as the moon and rubbery as a snake.
After finishing the pea pods, Aliyah came over and forced me to go on a walk with her. She eyed my wrist with a look of curiousness. We were walking in the woods together, arms linked, the afternoon still early. Unseen birds and strange beasts roamed the canopy over our heads, and the small, black-bellied Baku, animals almost like owls, sang their afternoon lyrics into the air. The ground was damp, the many leaves covering it finally rotting away. Winter is coming, and I am not looking forward to it. Its so cold and the snow sticks to my boots, not to mention the giant ice Wurms that come once the frost hits. They can eat a person whole and their stinking flesh and sharp spikes covering their backs makes my skin crawl. I've actually never seen an ice Wurm. If I had, I wouldn't be here right now.
“So, what happened that night?”
“What?” I asked.
“Your eye is a given, but what happened to your wrist?” Aliyah wondered.
I itched at the cloth, biting my lip. Should I tell her?
“I cut it,” I decided not to tell her about the wolf. It would be too risky. I mean, I know I can trust her and everything, but what if someone overheard? Not to mention how it may make her feel, her brother having been killed by the wolves and such. Aliyah raised her eyebrows with suspicion.
“May I see it?” she sort of demanded.
I shook my head, perhaps a little too fast. “No.”
“Why?” she was taken aback, “I'm your best friend.”
“It hurts,” I lied.
“Lame Aralyn. Really, really lame,” Aliyah whispered, seeing right through my lie. Friends had a way of doing that.
She pulled away from me and headed back the way we had come, leaving me alone. The forest was silent, as if somehow the trees had been listening to our conversation. I shivered, a cold wind hitting me. I gently touched my wrist. What could the marking be for? And why did the wolf give it to me? I turned, the rotting leaves squishing beneath my feet. I shuffled my feet and kept walking, feeling eyes on my back. Though I knew it was only the creatures of the forest curiously and innocently watching me.
I remembered the first time I had shot an arrow from my bow. My first bow had been small, made for my young age of ten. I recall Casimir laying his hands on my shoulder, his touch light, just slightly guiding me where to aim. He had pulled my elbow back, pushed my back upwards, and straightened my opposite arm. Then, he had whispered to me to pull lightly on the string and let go of the arrow. I followed his instructions and added strength to my arm in order to pull it and the arrow backwards. I aimed with my right eye, then released the thin wooden instrument. The strum in my fingers had vibrated throughout my body, and I had loved it. I recalled watching the arrow slice at the air and hit the bullseye of hay straight on.
I had been proud, knowing right then that I had been born a hunter.
I threw my hands over my head as a group of noisy birds circled me. They surrounded me, their feathers a bright teal and their beaks short and orange. Their song was high, a screeching almost like a childs wail. I laughed as they played with each other, nipping at each others feathers. One of them, a fairly small one, came and sat on my arm. Its feet felt rough as tree bark. The animal seemed to smile at me, its large black eyes intently gazing at me. Then the bird left the sanctuary of my arm and led the others through the trees, their screeches echoing in the forest around me.
On my way back to the house, the way was clear. I ran to where I had hidden my bow and arrows and retrieved them silently. Then quietly, I made my way back to the house without being seen.
“Good evening , honey,” Mother kissed Father on the cheek as he walked through the door. I had been playing with the smooth blue stone I had found some days ago. As soon as I saw his head come through the doorway, I had stood from my bed. Baby Hui was in Mothers arms and Casimir was at the table with Nella helping her with homework. The room fell silent. I could see Casimir glancing between Father and I, and Nella watching Father.
“Father,” I said, looking at the ground. I was not able to look him in the eye, afraid of what I might see, shame or something else.
I heard nothing. Looking up slowly, I saw Father standing before me. I flinched as he raised his hand, preparing to strike my cheek. He had done it before, but only when he was truly angry at me or one of the others. I held my breath as I noticed his hesitation. He closed his eyes and sighed loudly as he lowered his arm.
I watched him, expecting something though I knew not what.
“Just know, my child, that next time I will not hesitate,” he whispered, then exited the house.
One day passed slowly, then a second and third. Life had gone back to normal, though every moment of every day I had to hide my right wrist from all those around me, even Aliyah. And every day, Father and I grew more and more apart. I did not feel like his child anymore, only Mothers.
My knuckles ached from working with my needles to repair Nella's torn frock. Dull pain shot from them into my palms. I uncurled the cloth from my wrist. The marking shone dark against my peachy skin. What could it be? Is it evil? Cursed? I don't think so. I sighed, knowing I would not be able to hide the secret markings forever. How can I do it? How long will it take for someone to discover the markings?
I yelped suddenly. Having been distracted by my thoughts, I had stabbed the thin silver needle into my thumb. I pulled it out, sucking on my thumb to lessen the pain.
The house sat silent and almost eerie as I stood from my place at the table. Enough of being inside. I cannot stand being My blue dress wrinkled as I walked to the door, throwing on my straw hat even though the swollen area around my eye had lessened greatly. I walked out of the door and into the street, where families played outside in the fairly nice weather. Though the sun did not show, the air was warmish and absent of a chilling wind.
I made my way towards the scarlet fountain. Once I stood beneath it, I was overcome by an urge to climb to the top as I had done in my younger years. I jumped into the crystalline water of the large base pool and grabbed hold of the upper stone bowl. Then I pulled myself up, my arms and the stone itself very strong. The water flowed over my head, dousing me with an icy freshness. Climbing to the very top, above the eagle statue, I gasped with exhilaration. The wind was a slight bit stronger up there. I stood in the tiny top pool, my shoes now soaking wet. I could see all the way over the meadow that surrounded the village and the forest that surrounded the meadow. My eyes could make out the Northern Mountains, standing tall and majestic. Their caps were a snowy white, and they reached the clouds. Some reached even taller, disappearing from my sight that was even now better than all humans. Not far to the south there sat the winding road of the river, shimmering blue.
I noticed something out of place.
Entering the town from the Eastern path was a figure in black. I could see that by the way the figure strode that it was a man, and it looked as though a sword hung on his back. I bit my lip to keep myself from calling out to the stranger. Scrambling down the fountain, I hurriedly called over a child that was playing in the dirt.
“Go and tell the chief that a stranger has arrived!” I said to the little boy. At once he took off down the road to summon the chief.
I found a pile of brown crates to stand near, out of the way from the crowd that had begun to gather after noticing the stranger. He slowly walked towards the village. The chief came running with the little kid in tow, his bald head reflecting the sun.
Climbing up the crates, I stood atop the highest of them in order for the stranger to be visible to me. We all watched as the stranger sauntered up to the chief.
The stranger was tall and young, perhaps only twenty years old. He had a stern face, surrounded long golden-blond hair that sat in a low ponytail. His body was thin though muscular. His skin was a light shade of tan, his lips small and undefined. He was clothed in a tight fitting black top, a black hooded cloak, a pair of black breeches, and tall black boots. He stood out from the light hued clothes of the villagers. The fabric was worn down, dull and covered in dirt, as if he had been wearing them for days on end. A flash of silver came from inside his cloak, and I knew at once that he was hiding a dagger. The mans face was hard, showing no emotion in it. I felt a strange feeling of mysteriousness as I studied him.
He must have felt my gaze, for he glanced at me and into my eyes. His irises were a creamy amber, with tiny specks of gold misting within them. I noticed a small wave of curiosity wash over his face, but in a moment it passed. It left his face wrapped in darkness, and it allowed his skin to glow with the exiting promise of danger.
I could not stop my heart from beating faster than it ever had before. My skin tingled and my hands felt warm and wet. I leaned on the crates beside me for support. Who is this young man, and why is he traveling through the Farahad Forest with only a dagger as his protection? Not that I think he is crazy, I like his guts.
“Aralyn, come down here!” someone said, the voice surprising me. I lost my footing on the crate and crashed to the ground, apples from one of the crates rolling around my head. Even though the noise was loud, the crowd was too busy studying the young stranger.
“Ow, that hurt,” I groaned, rubbing my back. Aliyah stood over me.
“Sorry, are you okay?” she asked, biting her fingernails.
“Yeah, I think so,” I said as she helped me up.
We stood in the back, not able to see the stranger through the crowd. I slunk forward, Aliyah beside me, and we moved quickly through the bodies until we could see the man again. I held in a gasp. His eyes had even more depth up close. But, so does the darkness on his face. I felt a shudder travel down my spine. Something is different about this man. Something strange, something dangerous.
We pushed forward through the crowd again, Aliyah still next to me, until we could see both the stranger and the chief. The young man did not glance at me again, for the chief had begun to speak to him.
“Stranger, what is your name?” he asked with a hint of suspicion, his eyes dark and questioning. I suppose the chief had the same doubts I had.
“Kelgar Siymear, and I am honored to be in your presence,” he answered, as he bowed to the chief, his voice a rich .
“Why are you traveling and to where?”
The stranger made no comment, just watched the chief in a polite and respectful, though silent way.
“I see you like to keep your business to yourself, good lad. Would you like food and lodging for a night? Maybe two?” The chief asked, looking more comfortable and less suspicious.
The stranger nodded slightly, and that was the end of the short questioning session. The chief led the stranger named Kelgar away from the crowd, which was quietly whispering and slowly breaking apart. I stayed where I was, watching where the chief led the stranger. When the pair stopped, the chief spoke, though they were too far away for me to hear, then the stranger walked inside the home and disappeared from sight. The chief walked off as I started after the stranger, then I hesitated.
Why should I go to see this stranger named Kelgar? What reason do I have to speak to him? I do not know him, I do not know his past, or what he is traveling for. Why should I risk it?
Then again, why not? He has daring guts, and I like that. Not to mention he may have seen the mountains, the world, and I want to know what it's like.
The adventurous part of myself won the fight in the end. I walked towards the house where Kelgar had entered and hesitated once more near the door. I sighed.
“What are you doing, Aralyn?” a voice said behind me.
I flinched, tightening the cloth around my wrist before I turned to face the chief. He was an inch shorter than me and looked ancient, with wrinkles set upon his face, though his eyes were filled with authority and strength. I bowed my head, the dirt below looking dry. He jammed his cane under my neck and made me look up at him. As I did, a grimace awakened upon my cheeks, and a deepening glare came upon his.
“Listen to me, Aralyn. It would serve you well,” his voice cold.
I gulped, his cane pushing on my throat.
“Not only do I dislike your Mother and Father, but I also do not trust you. You are not of my people and you will never be. Elves like you, with a taste for action and...emotion, are known to attract trouble. I don't want that. Those accursed wolves are bad enough. All I want is for my people to live freely and safely. I never want to have to address to you publicly what the Old Laws are. You should know them. You should know that women do not hunt. I don't want you to put thoughts into my peoples heads that they can defy me, because they cannot. And you cannot. Understand?” he explained.
“Your people,” I laughed, “My parents are your people, and yet you treat them like animals.”
“That is because they act like animals.”
“Act like animals! You have a twisted view of life, chief,” I spat.
“At least I have a life, child. Your parents, on the other hand-”
“My parents are hardworking and persistent. They have goals, wishes. They love their children to the ends of the world. But you, oh you chief, you hardly have a soul.”
“Hold your tongue, you wretch! It would be wise of you to hush before I decide to banish you here and now,” he leaned in close to my face, both of us breathing hard.
I fought hard to not strike him on the face in my anger. It curled in my chest, wanting to spring out and strangle this man. This monster of a man. His eyes held in them the same hate that mine held. We were one and the same. Hateful and angry at one another. Wanting to hurt each other, yet both aware of the consequences.
“If you think I am soulless, then I guess you are right,” he said, removing his cane from my neck as he stalked away.
I wiped my forehead of its sweat, relieved that the chief had finally gone. I was weary, the sun beat down on me. I fell to my knees, cursing myself for how emotional I was.
“I need to control myself...I need to control myself,” I whispered as I rocked back and forth on the ground.
