CHAPTER 1
To never see and never hear
a tale of a world that lives in fear;
the fear of things like gnomes and trolls,
or demons that could steal your souls;
hating and lying just to get by,
with no regret but just a simple sigh;
A relief that they live another day;
As long as things go exactly their way.
Dare I say that such a place
does exist and in this case,
there is a girl that I know well,
that has never heard of such a hell.
She has never seen a thing like you,
a human being, and that is the truth.
So now, you know that I am right,
when I tell the story of this girl’s life,
and how she came to see the first,
of a human and an amazing curse...
*****
"So what are we hunting brother?” An angelic voice whispered with a mischievous tone.
"Nothing that concerns you or I would have agreed to your coming in the first place." The girl’s brother whispered back.
“Why do you…” she started only to be interrupted by her brother.
“Sshh you’ll warn them of our presence.” His deep, calm voice did not fool her, for the aggravated phrase made her feel like the words themselves wrapped over her mouth, like silk, and she quickly fell into silence. She felt as if she should not move; that the slightest break of air against her skin would disturb what ever her brother was seeking. For a moment, she even failed to breathe.
She was standing on a fallen tree; her bare feet kicking off blackened bark signifying its fate; a story of how the giant tree had bowed to the supremacy of lightning, the other trees hovering above. Saida looked up, watching its ancestors cry; dying leaves falling near.
The ground was moist and brown with dead leaves and dirt. The morning dew soaked into the soil, hiding from the rising sun. Saida and her brother stepped lightly on the cool land, until the view of a meadow appeared.
Never fully stepping into the meadow, Saida’s brother stopped and pulled off his bow and prepared an arrow.
She looked closely to what was beyond the field; it was not just another forest. It was a mirrored reflection of the one they were in. She saw the huge rock that has two pointed edges. She saw the pond that would fill and empty, depending on the day, next to that rock. Everything she saw across that field was exactly as it was on their side. She now knew where she was and felt uneasy.
She took her eyes off the eerie reflection and glanced at her brother, trying to find out why he had chosen here to hunt.
“There" he said, the words appearing from his mouth in a fog. He took his curved bow, made just for him, and bent it with ease. He placed the arrow in the bend between his thumb and first finger and pulled back the hog bristle until he had his target right where he wanted it. His long silver hair danced softly with the wind, not daring to get in his way.
****FFFFFFFFUIIISSSSSSSTTTTTTT****
The arrow blew across the field and into the “forbidden” forest. Many trees and bushes later, it hit his target dead on.
"There" he repeated to himself, lowering his head. "That’s it for today."
"What brother? What is it? What did you do?" she asked as he walked by her. Her icy blue eyes followed him until he fully passed her, in which than she turned to try to find the target that was most unfortunate. ‘I cannot see' she sighed to herself.
They left the carcass where it lie in the forest at the other end of the field and went home.
Water droplets sprayed them as they pressed against the rock wall disappearing behind a waterfall. Saida’s brother had to tilt his head lightly to walk in the narrow cave that led the way to their home. She, on the other hand, didn't. However, she was only seventeen; she still had time to grow. All Elves were rather tall beings, and she would probably be no different.
They slowly walked passed the damp cold rocks, Saidas hands rubbing against the moss and fungi growing throughout the walls occasionally. The light from either end made their path easy to see, but gave little promise of warmth.
The silence between the two was unbearable. She knew Luthien was not a big talker, but still, she hoped he would at least say something to her. ‘He couldn’t still be annoyed with me for following him could he?’ Saida thought to herself.
It was too quiet. It was that painful quiet where you start to hear a high-pitched tone that makes you think of the color red. Saida hated that noise that was tuning into her ear…she did not much care for the color red either. She tried to strike up a conversation.
“So…” she started, trying to think of a good topic. “If I may ask, what was that…” she hesitated; “well… you know… that thing you…” her brother looked over his shoulder, wondering if she would ever get to the point. She could not help but just spill out what was on her mind. “Why must the warriors keep silent about the things they kill like today? And I’m not talking about the food we eventually eat; I’m talking about the poor innocent beings you kill and leave, not utilizing a thing like heartless Ogres.” She had then wished she could gather every word she said. She felt her face turn from pale to red, never thinking she could be so blunt with her brother. She was mischievous, but never disrespectful.
His face turned more toward her, his eyes focused on the ground, never looking at her. “I” he started; then thought not to say what he wanted. Instead, anger replaced his calm, almost sympathetic approach.
“How dare you say things and disagree with things you don’t even understand.” He then said, his eyes now digging deep into hers for an answer. The more he waited for her terrified response, the more he saw himself in her.
He saw the curiosity prance around like a child catching a butterfly to see what wings were made of. He saw a determined Saida like there was once a determined Luthien, wanting so badly to know the deep secrets of there tribe.
“I’m sorry,” Luthien whispered calmly. “I had no right to snap at you like I did. Yet you have no right to accuse the other collectors and myself things that are not necessarily true.”
“I understand brother” Saida replied quickly, ashamed of her actions. Ogre was more than just an insult to her people. Her cheeks were still hot and tingly, leaving a reminder of what she said. She knew that whatever the collectors did, it was for a good reason.
‘Collectors’ she thought. ‘The men have to be rather strong mentally as well as physically to be declared one, and their secrets have always been kept as just that…secret.’
Their conversation had died when they stepped out of the silence of the hungry cave and walked into the crisp autumn day of the Anwa tribe of four seasons.
The birds were singing in welcome to there arrival. They adjusted there eyes to men working high in the trees, cutting down already dying branches and using rope to lower them to the men and woman on the ground. Women were also gathering water to prepare food, and the children were playing their “fairy” games. Saida could hear their laughter in the background, and wanted so much to join.
As she watched her fellow tribe members, she had passed an older woman singing. Her white eyes seemed to follow Saida, though she was completely blind.
Saida continued following her brother down a dirt path, the sun making rays of light through colored leaves and branches. She could hear the voices disappear into the distance behind them. She loved this time of day, walking into the rays and letting the light paint her face. Dust from there steps swirled around them, making a fog of the path; a pleasant, serene fog that could only exist in such a place as this.
Shortly after, they came to a hole in the tree. A little Desh'miriai named Sarci popped up to greet the two. “Welcome” he said; his voice was shrill and chipper. The upward tilt of his eyes aligned with bat like ears, and his cheeks looked like that of a chipmunk gathering nuts. In this case, a rolled up tongue took place of food. The tip always hung out the side of thin chapped lips. Saida never saw him as gross or disrespectful creature. His tongue had always slouched out. He never opened his mouth wide enough, but Saida imagined that if he did, his purplish tongue would fall out so far you could rap it around two Chubnubs and a Snickle Winkle; and those creatures were rather big. It always made her laugh to think of it.
“So…” said the little Desh'miriai, his long pointy fingers eagerly reaching as he held out his pudgy hand. Luthien reached into his hair and pulled out a strand, Saida did the same. He then wrapped the two strands up in a specific leaf he had stored in a bag. He placed it gently in the middle of the bat creature’s hand.
“There, Sarci.” Luthien said, waiting on a reply. Sarci blew on the leaf, his breath, the color of fire, not hot and no flames, just a reddish orange falling onto the leaf.
All of the sudden the leaf turned as silver as the strands of aged hair some find unfortunate.
“Perfect.” Sarci said. “Welcome home."
