Young Writers Society

Almost a week had passed by when a small caravan entered the village. Mya ran to meet her cousin, Seigor Heeg of Mlevoy, at the head of the train. He had changed so much since she had last seen him almost ten years ago. His hair had darkened to a rich brown, his chiseled face was tan from the summer sun which set off his smoldering brown eyes. His nose was slightly bent and a bit too big for good looks. Mya, excited to see him, wanted to show her handsome cousin all she had accomplished in life, but first things were first: have the fated pair meet for the first time. The only problem was, she had no idea where the other half of the fated pair could be.

It wasn’t long before Seigor and Mya took off in search of the missing girl. Seigor, directed by Mya, was seeking Laynah at the old stone quarry just south of the village. When Mya had said that it was old, she was not jesting; massive pine trees had grown between the crags in the rock. At the foot of the quarry, a young girl sat under such a tree. Seigor, suspecting it was whom he sought, ducked behind a boulder to get a better look at the girl he would be spending many months with. From such a distance he couldn’t see much more than that she was young – not the old hag he had feared she might turn out to be – fit, and no large physical abnormalities were visible. Then again, a large distance separated the two, so nothing was for certain. Oh well, he thought, getting to his feet to climb down the rocks to meet the famed Laynah.

He was almost to her when he tripped on a loose rock and slid into a murky puddle with questionable contents. Not only were his breeches messed with the slime and foreign material, but he could hear Laynah laughing from below. Crimson faced with embarrassment, Seigor muttered under his breath how stupid a name Laynah was, in a failed attempt to make himself feel better.

Seeing her up close, he had some conciliation that he had been right. She is young, fit, and has no large or even small physical abnormalities. Then again, who’s to say she isn’t completely mad, he thought. Her long, loosely curled hair was so black that it reminded him of the time he had accidentally gotten lost deep in a cave with no light. As he moved closer, her green eyes flickered from his face to the disgusting mess that seemed to be spreading all over his clothing. Full red lips pursed in a fruitless attempt to not laugh at his untimely fall. Her skin, golden from being in the sun, looked radiant in the simple brown dress that danced in the cool breeze. She is beautiful, thought Seigor.

“You, I am assuming, are Seigor Heeg of Melevoy. I am sorry if I offended you by laughing, you just looked so funny. You see, one time while I was up here with Mya I did—”

“Well, that is very nice and all, but I am only here because my cousin wanted to talk to you, I am assuming about one of her outlandish ideas.”

Taken aback by his rudeness, Laynah replied, “I don’t know about Mlevoy, but here in Thear, if someone apologizes for seeming crude – emphasis on the seeming – it does not give the other permission to be boorish.”

“I don’t know about Thear, but in Mlevoy, women are grateful for the men who provide their livelihood and their protection despite whether the men are boorish or not. I see clearly now that Mya made a mistake when she assumed that this would work.” With that, Seigor headed back up the quarry giving the moss covered rocks a wide birth this time.

*****

If he wasn’t the only way out of here, I would really give him something to fall over for! Who does Seigor think he is? fumed Laynah as she walked home from the quarry.

“Now why would a pretty little peach like you be looking ready to tear someone to shreds? I hope it’s not about anything serious,” crooned Duleve of Felicrith. He was a tall man with an angular face that reminded Laynah of a hawk. The effect of his unscrupulous appearance was complete with long black hair slicked back into a horsetail at the base of his skull. Draped in black velvet and not showing any signs of overheating on such a warm day, Duleve almost seemed handsome. But as his lips parted in a cruel smile, his appearance changed to reflect a guileful evil that many had never encountered before nor wished to.

“What or what not I am about to do is not of your affair. If you truly wish it to be, then I could make it of your affair by igniting the tender controversy of the untimely deaths of all your previous wives. I know that many of their families wonder what became of the perfectly healthy daughters they married off to you,” hissed Laynah between her clenched teeth.

“Ah, so dramatic, little one. I do not mean any harm. I worry about you, so lonely and angry these days. It is not healthy for a lovely young lady to detest so bitterly. I do not like to speak of my misfortunate wives, but if it worries you so, I will do all I can to put you at ease. I have always wanted children to call my own: little bodies scampering about my home with their little feet pitter-pattering down the halls. But with my every attempt to have children, tragedy has followed. Childbirth is a difficult affair and sadly many must perish in the endeavor.

“But worry you not, about such sad matters. Look instead to your own troubles – your loneliness, your bitterness, your anger. I hate seeing you this way and I would do anything to make you happy. You only have to ask and I will be there for you to protect you from all that plagues you now, my little dove.” His words were enticing but the hidden bile of their meaning rose to foul the air.

“It will not happen, Duleve of Felicrith! Your cunning words will not enslave me. I have been granted the opportunity to achieve a dream of mine and I will not let anything come between me and it now. If you will excuse me, I have matters to attend to.” Duleve inclined his head and watched as she walked away in haste.