Young Writers Society

"I'm working on a new necklace," Carris said, downing the last of her sandwich, following it with a sip of water. She placed the cup on the table and sat back in her chair. "It's coming along quite well." 

Gwyn leaned forward a little, putting her arms on the table. "Really? Can I see?" Her eyes sparkled in the flickering candlelight. 

So much prettier than a dull grey. "Yeah! It's in my room." 

Carris returned in a minute, carrying what was the start of the necklace on a bronze chain, as well as a clay jar that she placed on the table.

 "So, for this one, I thought I would do an amber theme," she said, tipping the jar over. 

 A dozen coin-shaped stones rolled out. Each one a hue of honey-brown or amber. Gwyn snatched a particular stone that had a sliver of the honey shade that pierced the darker colors and held it up to the candle to get a better look.

"Wow! This is pretty, Carris. Where'd you find it?" 

"Along the creek, down near the pool. It took me all day to get the dozen on the chain" Carris said, holding it up for Gwyn to see. "This is what I have so far." 

The dozen stones looped onto the chain thus far fell to the middle as she held it up from both ends. "It's a bit heavy, so I made need to space them out and glue them, rather than simply tying knots on the ends," she said, furrowing her brow. 

Gwyn's gaze became transfixed on the chain and her eyes ever widened. "It's so pretty Carris! You're so good at this! You'll make it to the Royal City. They'd be ridiculous to not accept you as a designer." 

Carris laughed, setting the chain down. "Come now Gwyn, let's be honest. It takes me far too long to make these. And I'm sure there are designers much better and more talented than me." She slumped back in the chair. Not to mention they're not stuck on a mountainside. 

Gwyn waved her hands in dismissal. "If it's your job though, you can focus on just that. After all, you won't be doing your own laundry. And, none of the people who work for the king or queen, or any of their advisors started out as master designers."

Carris shrugged. "Maybe," she said in a soft tone. 

Gwyn clapped her hands. "Okay, enough of that," she said, scooping the stones back into the jar. She smiled. "Just don't forget about me when you're rich and famous."

Carris attempted a smile and said with a hushed, fierce tone that had just a hint of play to it, "Never." 

Gwyn nodded once. "Then it's settled. Now, I have to get back home. Mom hasn't been feeling well, and the last thing she needs to do is deal with a whiny baby like Jacob."

She rose from the table, wiping the crumbs from the sandwiches off the table and gathering up her basket. Carris rose as well as they embraced. "You're a good person Gwyn. Never change." 

Gwyn smiled, eyes dancing in the dim light. How did they always do that? She said a final goodbye and was gone. Carris returned to her seat, arms crossed as she eyed the half-made necklace. Who am I kidding? Royal designer? Yeah right. 

The door to the cabin crashed open and in stormed her mom. Carris jolted in her seat at the sudden entrance. She put a hand to her heart. "Mom, really?" she said in an annoyed tone.

Her mom turned to her, jaw set tight, her lips pursed. "Don't you 'mom' me," she said, doing her best Carris impersonation that sounded more like an old hag than a young woman. She wiped a stray strand of hair from her face and slammed the door shut.

Just say go to bed. "Mom, what's wrong?" Carris offered up. Maybe being interested would work better than getting upset.

"Some filthy excuse for a merchant swiped my coin bag, that's what's wrong!" her mom exploded. "Shimmied right up to me, pretending to be selling scarves. Next thing I know he's nowhere to be found and I've lost my whole night's wage." 

Carris sighed. Not again. 

"But I tell you what," her mom rambled on, pointing a skinny finger at Carris, "no one steals from Sandra Flanagan and gets away with it!" 

Carris shook her head as she collected her necklace and jar. "Never heard that before."

"What, did you just say to me?" Sandra said, in a shrill tone, just above a whisper, but with all the fierceness of a dragon. 

I said that out loud? Great. "Nothing mom," Carris said, avoiding eye contact as she brushed past her mom on the way to her room. Maybe if she got to it befo-

"You mocking me, girl?" Sandra said, putting her hands on her hips. 

Carris paused, not sure if she should, or if her mom, in fact, wanted an answer. 

"Because I swear, the lack of respect you have for your mother is unbelievable."

Here we go. Carris turned to face her mother as the tirade continued. She could smell the alcohol.

"I mean I raised you, I give you shelter and food, I provide for this family, and you have the audacity to mock my work. Just like your father."

That's it. "Oh stop it, Mom," Carris growled. "Do not make this about you. You do not provide like that. I make the meals, I clean the cabin, I don't lose my money to every sleazy man that comes through this miserable mess of a town!"  

Sandra rolled her eyes and waved her hands in the air, in some form of mockery Carris supposed, as her cheeks filled with color and she slit her eyes. "You mean the three coins you make a week by doing laundry?" Sandra laughed, her head tilting back in a high-pitched giggle. 

"And being a harlot is so much more respectable!" Carris shot back. Too far. 

The slap caught Carris off guard and she stumbled back into the clothesline as tears sprung to her eyes. Sandra jabbed her finger at Carris.

"You think you're so righteous. Just wait till you get abandoned by a good-for-nothing soldier who leaves you with a stupid kid," she said, spittle forming at the corners of her mouth. 

Carris's lip quivered and she fought the beating in her chest, trying to keep a brave face. "That's all I am to you? Just a stupid kid? What did I do to deserve that?" Carris said, voice cracking under the tension. "I've never done anything but tried to make this work. I didn't make the mistake to sleep with every soldier in town, you did, so you can call me stupid, you can hate me, but you can never put your lack of character on me," Carris said.

And with that, she stormed by her mom and out into the cold, slamming the door behind her. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

It wasn't until she was near the creek bank that Carris realized she was gripping tightly to the jar and necklace on her left hand. She let out a growl. No way I'm going back in there, she thought as she looked back in the direction of the cabin. She stood in the silence for a minute, taking in the gentle whistle of the chilly breeze that swept through her blond hair, and the creak of tree branches in response. Ignoring the cold, Carris took in several deep breaths, closing her eyes and allowing herself to calm down. 

Something about the outdoors tamed Carris. She wasn't sure what it was. Perhaps the lack of human noise and clatter, especially at this late hour? Or perhaps the feeling of being alone in a beautiful landscape with no pressure from anyone to do anything but take in the grandeur of it all? Maybe the silence as nature slept was enough to do the trick? Whatever it was, a wave of calm swept over Carris as she stood there along the bank, eyes closed.

Then there was a screech. Carris's eyes shot open. It sounded as if it was coming from the woods across the creek, facing Carris. She peered into the darkness, ears alert. Nothing. Going crazy Carris? 

She turned to go, where she wasn't entirely sure. Definitely not the cabin. Not yet. She would wait until her mother collapsed from drunkenness. She began to walk along the bank, her boots crunching softly in the snow. She kept her arms tucked tight together, trying to keep in what body heat she could. She kicked a stone over the bank and it smacked the frozen creek, ricocheting with a melodic sound and ... a yell? 

Carris twisted back towards she had been before. She could see nothing but...

The third time the shout was audible and sounded much closer than what Carris had heard before. But it wasn't a cry for help. The tone carried something much more sinister. A shout full of excitement and adrenaline, with just a hint of menace. 

There was a snap of a branch and then the shattering of ice followed by a splash and a grunt. Carris could just make out a dark figuring climbing over her side of the creek bank. Across the creek, small lights were starting to appear. A gust of wind blew through the air and the lights danced like madmen.

The figure was on his feet now, not more than thirty feet to Carris's left. He was making his way toward Potter's Creek at a dead sprint, completely unaware of Carris who stood still, clutching the jar in her hands. She hesitated as he disappeared into the darkness as the lights got closer and closer until they reached the edge of the creek. Now Carris got a look at them. A dozen or so men, dressed in thick wool jerkins and coats, brandishing axes, spears, and longswords. Behind them strode a figure much taller, much darker. His entire body was protected by a suit of ink black armor, and in the torchlight, a set of pale white horns adorning his helmet jutted to the sky. 

"This can't be good," Carris whispered to herself, heart beginning to race again.

One of the figures pointed at her with his spear. "Look! A villager. Let's take her boys!" he practically howled, and the entire group chorused agreement with a yell. 

Carris gulped. "This is so not good."