Young Writers Society

The land of Lorne is peaceful. The towns are quiet, the river runs clear, and everyone locks their doors at night to keep the demons out. There used to be a lord, but he disappeared so long ago that no one remembers his name; there used to be a road out of Lorne, but that disappeared about the same time as the lord, and most people believe it's just a myth now.

Three years ago, there was a meteor shower.

- - -

They woke up at far corners of the countryside in the dead of night and made their ways into the nearest towns. They collapsed at the first doors they saw, and they slept.

They forgot all about the long journey there.

Three years ago, there was a meteor shower, and by morning there were three more residents of the land of Lorne. These restless spirits didn't want to remember who they were, so they forgot; now, they carry thin umbrellas in the rain, they've forgotten the lord's name, and they watch the forest for glowing red eyes when they pass.

The crows watch them from afar.

- - -

There are more crows lately. They've been gathering in numbers so thick they blot out the sun behind bare trees.

Unbeknownst to the people, someone new is living in the old lord's manor, and she sheds black feathers with every step. Soon, things will start changing to fit her will—small changes at first, then big ones, until the sun rises in the west and sets in the east.

Locked doors won't keep the demons out any more.

The Crow Man is watching, too.

- - -

Who fell?

Who will rise?

Fallen

Rohn Swyndel - Hattable

Alyc Smithe - ScarlettFire

Kael Fos - Lightsong

Guides

Beth Eder - Lareine

Bey Taylor - Holysocks

NPCs

The Crow Man - a friend to help the wanderers along their way in the treachery Unkindness is creating in Lorne. He's followed by crows wherever he goes. Who is he, under that huge dark coat and wide-brimmed hat? And what does he really want?

Unkindness - an unknown shadow at current moment. More will be revealed about her as the wanderers progress in their quest.

- - -

The Land of Lorne

The sun rose slower in Lorne than it had in decades. The Crow Man perched on the edge of the chapel roof and peered carefully at the horizon, where the great ball of fire had chased away the demons that roamed in the night. His coat fluttered around him, and his small entourage of crows squawked that they had never seen a sunrise so dim.

Under any other circumstances, perhaps it could have been a good thing. But with the news he had received from the forest...

They would have to be informed.

He had been watching them for the last three years, ever since the stars fell. He watched them forget who they were, forget where they truly came from, and set to work as if they had always been part of Lorne. They were cut from a different cloth, though, one so immense that no living being could know its depths—so massive that any mortal would be in awe for all of their minuscule existence.

They would be able to chase her away, that damnable shadow that sought to destroy his careful creations. The Crow Man landed on the ground, his dark coat flapping behind him with the wings of a hundred birds that followed, and looked up at the slowly-brightening sky.

Yes, he would awaken them, and he would give them guides so they might get through the woods alive. But first...

He walked up to the hedge maze, and the small iron gates creaked open in front of him.


In the castle in the middle of the forest, Unkindness turned her eyes away from the horizon and pulled another black feather from her hair. They would come to her soon.

Bey


Bey was late. The sun hadn't awoken him as it normally did, and when he looked out to see the sun was barely but a glow through a haze of black clouds, his heart sank a little. Things had been getting darker and darker these days, but this was different. You could feel the darkness leaching every bit of warmth from Lorne.

Still, he was more frightened of Mr. Garson - Bey's boss - than he was the clouds. He pulled on his jacket and headed to the orchard, a bit faster than normal. Hardly anyone was out, and it made things feel emptier than normal. He played with the thought of knocking on one of his neighbours' doors to see if they hadn't fled in the night or something ridiculous like that, but wasn't sure what he'd tell them if someone answered, so instead he peeked through his cousin's window. It was completely dark inside and no one seemed to be around. They were probably just still in bed, like he had been, without the brightness of the sun to wake them.

Bey stepped away from the window, and something grabbed his shirt from behind, yanking him even further back.

"I knew I'd find you up to nothing!" Came a familiar voice, "dawdling as usual! How do you expect us to get those apples in before Autumn, hmm?"

Mr. Garson. The one man that'd be up before the sun even thought about shining. The only thing he wanted the sun for was for his precious fruit, he'd feel his way 'round in the dark if he had too. In fact Bey wasn't sure if the man slept at all.

"I'm sorry, Sir, I'll do better next time." He'd learnt that making excuses, or saying truths that seemed like excuses to Mr. Garson, only got him into more trouble, and he couldn't afford to lose his job. There were plenty of young men ready to snatch his job up if Garson decided Bey wasn't doing his job to his complete satisfaction.

"Oh the usual!" Mr. Garson said, pulling Bey along the rest of the way to the orchard.

Of course it was a long day of work—it was always a long day of work, and Bey didn't get a break until the sun was high in the sky. He kept an eye out for Mr. Garson as he loitered to the side of the orchard, catching a bit of shade at high noon.

That was when he saw the man. At least, he thought it was a man. It was tall, and it was dressed in a gigantic dark coat with a huge wide-brimmed hat hanging over its face and keeping him from telling what it was. It could have been a scarecrow for all he knew, but he hadn't seen it before, and it was definitely walking towards him.

Before he knew it, and before he had a chance to go back to work to ignore it, the figure was standing next to him. It was even taller up close, and it caught him by the shoulder with a hand so strong even he couldn't break away from it.

"The island," it said in a deep, gritty voice that sounded like it had been blown out by hours of screaming. "In the river. Tomorrow, sunrise."

Then it turned, and it disappeared behind a tree.

That morning, Beth stepped out into the heavy sunrise with a distinct feeling of dread on her shoulders. It wasn't dread that she would be put to work or that someone would ask her where she was going, though, which was her usual problem when she thought she would sneak out of Verden before anyone noticed she was missing. It was something else, a dread that something would go wrong, and she wasn't quite sure what.

She should have expected it when the old shopkeep, Sims, caught her by the arm on her way east. "Morning, Beth," the man said around a mouthful of rotting gums, "can you do me a favor?"

"Sure." She smiled and shoved her hands in her pockets, giving up on her goal of getting out of town that morning. Maybe she would manage it in the afternoon, but now that one person caught her, everyone would be clamoring for some help around the house or the yard.

Morning, Beth, can you skin me this rabbit? Morning, Beth, can you bury the dog for me? Morning, Beth, you're good at catching snakes, right?

Sometimes, she wished that her father would just let her join him in his woodchopping, but he was obscenely protective of her—he wouldn't let her go anywhere near the woods. He was absolutely apoplectic when he found out she had been going to the maze, way back before...when Enry went missing. But at least if he would let her carry the wood, the other townfolk wouldn't have an excuse to catch her and use her for their little tasks.

"I'm headed out to pick flowers for my mother," she lied at noon when she finally got all the snakes out of Old Lady Fiona's garden. Beth wiped her hands off on her pants and started out to the east, and for once she was allowed to get past the edge of town without anyone stopping her.

Unfortunately, she didn't make it anywhere near her destination. Before she was even a mile out of town, a flock of crows flew low over the path, and when they cleared there was a tall man in front of her, his face hidden under a wide-brimmed hat and the rest of him in a long coat. He must have been in the woods, she guessed. Probably a would-be explorer from one of the other towns, looking to find his fortune in the forest, no matter how dangerous it was.

"Hello, can I help you?" Beth leaned back and tried to find a face under all that darkness, but he might have had the collar of his coat pulled up too high—she couldn't for the life of her see even his chin.

"Yes," the man said in a dark voice, like crunching gravel. He almost sounded amused. "You can. Go to the river island by Sile. Tomorrow, sunrise."

A crow landed on his head then, and he turned around, walking in the same direction Beth had been—towards the old chapel at the end of the road, still a few miles off.

Beth turned around and went back home.