Disclaimer: With B's Encouragement, I've decided to post the first chapter of the novel (potentially novella, depending on when I run outa fuel...) Know that I'm completely embarrassed of my work. This has been proofed twice, but who even knows what's wrong with it! So be gentle with me...
Chapter One- Asleep Under the Oak
I was born Aerveta (air-va-ta) Thornweaver in a small hut on the edge of the woods. My childhood was a normal one, full of work and play, being raised by a village in a stern but loving fashion. The woods were my best friend. I ran upon their paths with my earth hardened feet, reveling in the cool soft dirt against my skin. I danced in the dappled sunlight, picked berries and nuts, hid amongst the trees in games of hide-and-seek. Often, when the other children were doing their chores I would sneak away into the woods and sitting with my back propped against an aged oak and imagine that I was a dryad, a child of the woods.
In my fantasies, my parents had found me out here, a babe in a basket, wrapped in green leaves with tousled brown hair and shocking forest colored eyes. Being unable to conceive themselves, they had taken me home to village to raise me as their own. Some day though, my family would come from the trees, from the very core of the woods themselves and fetch me back. I loved the village, and the people I had grown up with, but there was no adventure. Every day was another series of steps, along the same paths to the same ends.
It was one such day, in my 16th year, as I sat with my back supported by the firm warmth of the oak that I sensed a change. I couldn't pinpoint what it was that tipped me off, perhaps a change in the air currents, a smell, a taste at the back of my tongue that was unfamiliar. For moment, I sensed that the nurturing flow of the woods had been broken. Cut by something that was not nurturing, by something that took to survive and didn't complete the circle by giving. For a moment I was scared, but already the feeling was gone and the warmth of the sun was lulling me off to sleep, gently drifting in and out of reality, seeing the beautiful legs and backs and necks of the dryads as they delicately danced in and out of the corner of my vision. There was one of them, reaching toward me with a delicate, moon-pale hand, running her fingers through my hair, cool against the warmth of the woods around me, soothing. “Time to sleep now, little one...”
When I awoke I was on my own pallet in the corner of my own house. I could hear the whisper of the leaves outside my window, and feel the delicate moonlight balanced on my skin. Somehow, I must have gotten home, how strange that I would fall so deeply asleep. I sat up, slowly letting my eyes and body adjust to the night, and then I stood. I had missed supper and my stomach was rumbling fiercely. I started toward the cupboard on the far side of the room where the left over bread was kept, but I was stopped abruptly by the press of a wood against my stomach. Apparently, the kitchen table had been moved the previous afternoon. I pushed further on in the dark, my hands reaching in front of me to the counters edge, but when I got to where it should be I felt only rough wood, and feeling around the edges, I finally found a handle.
At that moment, I was very afraid. I flung the door open to a moonlit clearing. Turning, my eyes adjusting to the new light, I saw that I had been in a small one room hut with a table in the middle, a sleeping mat in one corner and on the far side of the room was a set of cabinets. There was no doorway leading to the sweet lavender and grass smell of my parents room. There were no home-spun curtains on the single window above the bed. No comforting blankets or rugs, lovingly woven by my mother's hands. There was nothing familiar at all.
I stood back against the door frame, willing my breath to calm and as I did I smelled the air. It smelled of night time, of the ashes of a late fire, it smelled of the dark earth in the deepest part of the woods. It did not smell like the village. I stepped outside and the cool air washed over mw, tugging and pulling at the edges of a night dress that was not my own.
A scurrying sound amongst the bushes caught my attention and I turned slowly toward it, calculating. My ears gave me direction, my nose honed in and my eyes told me the distance. I sprang into action, with a speed and stealth I hadn't known I possessed. Moments later I had my hands on a small gray rabbit my mouth at its stomach, my teeth burrowing into its flesh. The warm blood poured down my chin and onto the night dress, turning white to red and I savored the taste as my stomach churned with pleasure to be satiated.
Then I stopped. It was an abrupt stop, not thought out, not considered. I looked down at the limp, mangled body in my hands and tears began to well in my eyes. What was I doing? I had eaten raw meat before, but always captured in a trap, and carefully killed for the most painless, fear-free death. Always with a prayer of thanks to the gods and to the animal's spirit for it's sacrifice. What was I doing? I cradled the small body against my chest, further staining the night dress and I began to rock, gently at first and then with more force, praying to all the gods I knew.
I stayed that way until morning. The first thin rays of sun did not warm me, heart or body. They shown with a pleasure that I could not feel. Another hour came and went and the sun rose higher. Each moment I expected it to embrace me. To call out “Hello Daughter!” and help me along my way as it had done every day of my life. Nothing came. Coldness filled me as it had since I had killed the rabbit.
So I dug, I dug with my hands as if my very life depended on it, and when the hole was deep enough that it wouldn't be disturbed by the other animals, I put the small body in it. I covered the mound with a rock and then I lay across it and my body heaved. No tears came, there were no more to give, but my body still shook with phantom sobs.
Finally, it may have been noon, perhaps before; I stood. I walked back to the hut and I turned once to look at the sun, once my father, and my best friend. Now it taunted me with its bright light and warm glow, a glow I could not feel. I closed the door on the sun and sinking back onto the small pallet in the corner, I slept.
I awoke to the sounds of dusk. Small animals calling each other in, “Hurry, before the dark comes!” I shifted stiffly against the dry grass and pulled the poorly stitched blanket over my head. Why was I waking up now? There was no purpose. The faint scent of jasmine entered my nose and suddenly I was aware of a presence in the room.
Turning slowly to my side I opened my eyes just a glimmer to see a cloaked figure sitting at one of the rough chairs by the table. I couldn't tell if it was looking at me, but I guessed it to be a woman, judging by the perfume that was steadily filling the room. I deepened my breathing. If I slept on, then surely she would leave.
“You may give up on deceiving me now...” the voice was melodic, beautiful and heart-wrenching at the same time. “I knew you were awake, most likely before you were fully aware of it yourself. I can smell your blood as your heart pumps it more quickly, I can hear the faint rustle of the sheets against your skin as your breathing changes, I can see the flutter of your eyelash that says that those lovely green eyes of yours will be opening at any moment. There is no fooling me.”
She stood slowly, none of her movements were hurried and she pushed back the hood of her cloak. At first I was certain that the mother Goddess stood in the room with me, so great was her beauty, but she smiled sadly and shook her head.
“What I would give if I truly were a goddess, little one, able to grant gifts and wishes upon my people, able to give and not take... but I am a much less worthy creature than that.” She stood still, letting me take it all in. Her hair was jet black, blending so well with the night that I would not have known it was there at all if it hadn't contrasted so with her ivory skin. I could not see her eyes clearly, but I could feel their intensity on me and I imagined that they were the darkest of blue, nearly black themselves. She was slender, wearing a dark gown that collected at her waist and bloomed about her like a new spring flower. It was the finest garment that I had ever seen.
There was a quick sputter and then a flicker and she held out her hand. In it was an orb of fire, colored blue and giving off just enough light to cast a circle of illumination about her. Her eyes were indeed blue, reminding me of the lake we went to sometimes to fish. When you jumped in and swam to the bottom you were in a foreign world all colored with blue and green...
My attention snapped back, no time for daydreaming now. Her dress, I saw was black in color, accented with red ribbons at the hips and sleeves. I did not know the fabric, but it reminded me of the smooth river stones, sleek and soft. Her mouth was small and full, a vibrant red, that didn't appear to be at all natural, but still beautiful. Her hair extended to her waist and was flowing free about her, shimmering in the blue light.
“Do you feel comfortable that you know my appearance now?” She inquired, her face did not change, except for her eyes. They spoke of ages of sorrow. I nodded and she cupped her hands together . With a hiss, the fire went out.
“Come along then, we must talk, so that you may understand what has happened to you.” She held out a hand, and I placed mine in it, feeling a thrill of cool energy rush through me, so familiar, yet so foreign. She led me outside, keeping hold of my hand. It would have been comforting; the night air, the full moon, if it hadn't been so strange. She led me out to a fallen log and there we sat, I marveled at the night, the light of the Mother Moon. At least she was still there, not turning me away, her light cool, but still holding me close. I sent out a silent prayer, “Please keep me safe.”
“Aerveta, it's been three days since I brought you here. You slept for the first two, and when you awoke last night I was nearby. I watched you, I saw your confusion, your fear, your sorrow. I will tell you what has happened and the confusion will abate. As the months pass, your fear will also dwindle, until it is gone. The sorrow, however. The sorrow is a curse that we bear, and it will etch itself into your heart so deeply that you will never be able to take a step without knowing it's there. You will live through it, because you have no choice. Sometimes you will even feel happiness, but it will be too strong, it will spill through you, rushing and twisting and you won't know what to do with it. It's important that you learn how to control yourself so that neither the sorrow nor the rushing happiness can control you. Do you understand?” For a moment I thought she would cry, but she shook her head, her black hair catching the moonlight and I nodded.
“I've taken you away from your home, your mother and father, the village that you know and love. I've done it because I love you, although you don't know me. I love you, and I want for you to be safe. Yesterday morning, the King's men rode through your village, they ransacked and pillaged, they killed many men. They set houses afire. Your family is safe, your father has been wounded, but he will live, I've made sure of that. Now they are just rebuilding. No, I see you wanting to argue with me, but let me continue. Every female between the ages of 12 and 20 was taken by the King's men. They are to live as slaves and concubines in the palace, to do his bidding and to amuse his guests. Many young women have been taken there from other villages like yours, not one has lived past their 21st birthday. The older they are, the harder they are worked, it gives the King pleasure to see beautiful young women suffer.” She paused and my stomach grumbled. I thought again of fresh baked bread. To taste it and feel it against my tongue. My mind was wandering now, thinking of stew with elk meat and wild onions. Carrots and potatoes from our fields. My stomach grumbled more loudly.
“You can't have those things, little one. They are not for you any longer. My name is Serene, and now I will take you hunting.” She pulled on my arm, forcing me up and in moments we were speeding along. I couldn't tell if we were flying or running, there were sounds and colors floating by me, through me, but I felt weightless, as if I were putting in no effort at all. Finally, we stopped and before us in a clearing, there was a small campfire and a band of travelers. They were mostly young men, except for one. He was old and wizened, leaning heavily on an Elm wood staff. My mind reeled in confusion.
“Stay here, watch and learn.” Serene lifted her skirts delicately and stepped to the edge of the clearing, just out of range of the firelight. She pulled a pouch from her sleeve and poured some dust into her palm. Then she blew it gently toward the men. It took on a life of its own, twisting and glittering. No one seemed to notice it except the old man. His eyes grew and he looked around, catching a glimpse of Serene. Then his gaze softened and he let his head slouch, as though exhausted, but his eyes were as bright as ever. The dust settled into the fire and it blazed bright blue for a moment. One by one the men slouched, their breath softening and deepening in sleep.
Serene held out her hand to me, and when I reached her, she pulled me gently forward into the clearing. The old man rose and appraised my appearance. My blood stained night gown, my tangled brown curls.
“Come now Serene, you mean to tell me that you couldn't outfit the girl better than this?” He smiled at her, and she smiled back, although her eyes never lost their sadness.
“I haven't gotten to that point yet, Seamus. She's starving, it's been three days, she's only had a rabbit.” The old man nodded knowingly and waved his staff toward the sleeping men.
“You know how to do this better than I do, choose the one you'd like.” She stepped forward softly and cupped each man's head in her hands. Over a few she lingered and some she left quickly. She came back to us.
“Seamus, the lad with the maize colored hair will die within the span of three days, with or without our help. His lungs are filled with coal dust and are failing him quickly. The man with the raven eyes is rash, there is a good chance that he will get himself killed by my sisters before you reach the edge of the woods. He thinks that he can take on the world.” Seamus nodded again.
“Well you best take Lyr then,” he knelt next to the fair haired young man whose breathing was struggling even in sleep. “His mama's heart is going to be broken either way, he's got a clear soul, remember that Serene.” Serene nodded and she and the old man embraced briefly and he returned to his seat by the fire. I watched in dazed confusion as Serene knelt and picked up the young man as if he weighed nothing. She brought him within feet of me and lowering him gently, she embraced him as though he were a lover. She delicately kissed his neck before saying a few words, glancing at the moon. Then, almost more quickly than I could follow, she sank her teeth into his neck. There was none of the blood and gore I had experienced with the rabbit. None of the fear. The young man's body relaxed even further, his lips curving in a contented smile. Serene sucked gently at his flesh and then pulled away.
“Now, Aerveta, nourish yourself.” I looked at her in horror.
“I can't drink his blood! What have you made me?” I turned and looked around, there had to be somewhere to run, somewhere to get away. Before I could move, Serene's arms were around me, embracing me, holding me gently, but firmly. She rocked me to and fro, like a mother rocking her baby, and I felt my body relax against my will.
“I will explain everything to you, my darling, but you cannot go on much longer without nourishment and we have a ways yet to go tonight. For now just follow my directions.” She let me go, and though I felt calmer, I still couldn't do it. My stomach argued with me, cramping with angry hunger.
“Surely they have some bread I could eat, just a bit of bread and water would keep me going all night!” I looked at her urgently and she sighed and turned to Seamus.
“Bread and water then Seamus, don't bring too much, you know...” She trailed off as the old man rose and went to the back of their cart. He returned and handed me a tough hunk of bread and a small dipper of water. I smiled in relief and took a bite of the bread, savoring the flavor and the feel against my tongue. I chewed and I swallowed, feeling happy relief. And then, with a suddenness and a burning, the bread came back up and I fell to the ground, heaving and retching. I grabbed for the dipper of water to sooth my throat, but it only made things worse and my stomach churned with discontent.
After a few moments I was able to sit up and Serene knelt beside me, dabbing my head with a cool, moist cloth. I leaned into her.
“You can no longer eat human food. Your stomach no longer knows how to process it, and there is no nutrition in it for you any longer. All it can do is make you sick. Now, only blood can keep you strong and healthy. To feel your best, it has to be human blood.” She helped me up and took me over to the body of the boy named Lyr. His chest was still rising and falling, but the breaths were ragged and shallow. His skin was pale and his eyes fluttered beneath his lids.
“Now, Aerveta, we don't want him waking, it will only cause him undo pain and fear.” I knelt next to the boy, hardly older than myself and bent my lips to his skin. I tried to be as gentle as Serene had been, but as soon as the blood touched my lips I lost my mind. I went crazy, biting and pulling, wanting and needing. I would have gone on forever, if Serene's cool hands hadn't pulled me back.
“You're done now, he's dead.” I looked, the boy's neck was ragged and bloody. Nothing like it had been after Serene had fed. Serene covered his skin with her hand and when she moved it away, the damage I had done was gone. All that remained were two little prick marks on the side of his neck. She kissed his eyes and moved away.
“Shall we take him, Seamus, or will you bury him?” She looked at the old man whose eyes were heavy with sorrow.
“We'll keep him. The lads and I will bury him in the morning. It's important that they be warned.” His eyes wavered toward the dark haired young man that Serene had pointed out earlier.
“Alright, thank you Seamus. We'll be seeing you again.” She hugged him closely and when she let go, he seemed to have gained vitality, he stood upright and there was a greater glow in his skin, “That should last you...” she said, looking into his eyes and then in a moment, she was at my side and we were flying again, with the colors and the smells rushing around us, through us.
(c) Clair Smith
Next Installment, "Chapter Two~ The Bath House" Coming After I've finished Proofing It. Don't mock me too much...
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