Without further adieu, I am proud to present the first chapter of The Silver Knight. Enjoy!
Chapter 1: The Day I Started the End of the World
My mother, whenever her patience wore thin, had the habit of saying that I was too smart for my own good. Perhaps she was right- I never really put any thought into it until I almost killed my sister. That day changed everything, as you'd expect; and in my opinion, that day started the end of the world.
I was seventeen and cocky- quite brilliant, really- but with far too much free time on my hands. I'll admit that much. And that gave me quite the upper hand over my petty enemies, primarily Buknor Sluaksson, the local silversmith and outright pessimist.
I hated him more than anyone else had ever hated anything. I planned on killing him someday, or maybe getting him banished. But my plans needed more time- so I busied myself by humiliating him.
That's why I started that fateful day camped out in a tree, right next to the main road. The stillness of the morning ensured my success, though it made me a bit uncomfortable. The chill, for one, combined with the sharp wind, and also the fact that the sun had barely passed the horizon. Any sane person was still sleeping.
No one ever said I was sane- it was a running joke, in my opinion.
My bow was in my hand, warm and smooth and beautiful. No, I wasn't going to kill him- yet. It was just part of the set up, a gear in the machine of my plans. I just hoped I wouldn't be so stiff when the time came, that the numbness in my cheeks and feet wouldn't spread.
My worry was in vain.
My wandering mind crystallized at the first hint of my expected guest- guests, evidently. Buknor had a golden-haired beauty leaning on his arm- poor thing. I decided she had to be delusional to trust him. A basket hung over her arm, and he carried a pack with who-knows-what. I hoped all of it was expensive. That would mean more of a loss for him.
The beauty chatted away about this-or-that, not looking where they were going. Buknor was positively enchanted by her, and just as oblivious.
Until he stepped in my net.
He triggered the weight-sensitive trap, and before he could even scream, he was hanging upside down in the air by his ankle, the net wrapped around him like a cocoon. The beauty stood, stunned, beside him, both of their mouths in wide 'o's.
I unstrung my bow- no need for the weight at the end of the arrow. That was the backup, in case Buknor didn't set off the net. Dropping from my hiding place, I strode forward onto the road, smiling up at Buknor. The beauty didn't see me.
“You rascal! You lazy swine! You fool!” He bellowed, once his eyes locked with mine.
“I'd watch what I said, if I were you.” I replied, still smiling, still gleeful at his hapless state. “I find it ironic that you called me a fool, and yet you are up a tree.”
“Ithrean!” He roared, struggling with the rope. “You- you---! I'll get you one of these days!”
“Like you got my parents?” I snapped. “Good luck. Everyone knows I'm smarter than you are.”
The cocoon started swinging perilously.
I stepped towards the beauty, my arm extended. “You're in quite the dangerous spot, sweetheart.” I began sweetly, swelling with pride as Buknor dared me to move one step closer to her. “Our friend here doesn't exactly weigh anything close to light and if he falls... I would rather you were out of harm's way.”
“What if you're the danger?” She replied.
I laughed- how far had Buknor gotten in his traditional brainwashing? “Just look at him, blondie. What if, one day, you're on the receiving end of his anger? Do you think you'd escape without a scratch?”
I supressed my laughter as she turned and gave Buknor an odd stare, like the question honestly perplexed her. Of course she would get hurt- just like he had hurt me. His struggling had resulted in a piece of net being fixed in his mouth like a gag- he couldn't respond, though I could tell he wanted too.
“Now, dear, will you come?” I asked, offering my arm again.
This time, she took it without hesitation. I properly introduced myself as we pranced down the road together, and got her talking again. I know it was immature, but I couldn't pass up the opportunity- just before we turned around a bend and out of Buknor's sight, I gave him a triumphant smile. Not only had I bagged the worst criminal in the area, but I got his girl out of it too.
Not bad for a morning's work.
We followed the road up a rocky hill, lined on both sides with carefully planted trees. The pink and blue sky started driving away the coolness of night, and I couldn't help but glance up at the sky- if you were lucky, some days you could catch sight of a Dragon coasting on the wind currents, glinting in the sunlight like a diamonds that had been thrown to the sky. But the road, however, earned more attention.
The hilltop revealed a sight I would later miss, that I would later dream of. A valley unfolded beneath our feet like an unrolled map, revealing a wide, fertile plain dotted with houses. Both the brown, dirt road and a blue-and-white river cut through the green ocean, pointing to the center of the plain. A cluster of buildings squatted there, quaint and simple, welcoming us back. Grey smoke wafted to the sky from stone chimneys, the only dull color on the scene, and little people like toys meandered up and down the road. Others were already in the fields, dressing the land to fit their needs.
Home, sweet home.
Ravenden- that was my town's name. Population? About a hundred fifty, give or take a few. I could see my little house from this hilltop, a little apart from the others, a little dirtier. It didn't really matter though- no one could tell that from this distance. The most important shops lined the road, like the tavern, the butcher, and the blacksmith. I didn't realize I was hungry until I smelled the bread, wafting down the road from the bakery.
The Blond Beauty and I sauntered into town and parted ways, she to the seamstress, and I to the stables. That's my job- I ride wherever people need me to go. A messenger of sorts, if you'd prefer that terminology. And I'm the fastest on any horse around. Partly because I'm not fat, the horses like me, and I'm flexible. People like that.
Most of the time, at least.
I can't say I was a town favorite- people were getting fed up with my pranks on Buknor, and I couldn't blame them. All I wanted was a decent apology... and some blood. Maybe a match to the death, or something. But these people were like family, since I didn't have any others, and they tolerated me.
We all knew each other by name, knew each other's strengths and weaknesses, and just about everything about each other. Everyone knew where I was in life, I knew where they all were.
“Hello Ithrean.” Said a soft, cheerful voice. “You seem happy. You're walking awfully bouncy.”
“I am, Livie. It's been a wonderful day, and it's just starting!” I replied, putting as much energy into my voice as I could muster. “Do you want to go somewhere? Need help with something?”
“Oh, I don't know.” She replied, shrugging. “I haven't made up my mind yet. Do you want to play dolls with me?”
Here's the thing- Livie's blind. Has been since she was born, and as people said, always will be. A blind, five-year old girl doesn't exactly go unnoticed in a town like Ravenden. She was our pet, you could say. Everyone cared for her, everyone kept an eye out for her- in that sense, she had more eyes than the rest of us.
“Would you like to ride the ponies?” I countered. No, I did not want to play with her dollies.
“Oh, I don't know. Do you want too?”
Her heart-wrenching smile warmed me from top to toe as she looked in my general direction. Bouncy brown curls fell around her shoulders in ringlets like springs, and an array of freckles played across her apple cheeks. Her eyes, though- I had never adjusted to them. Long eyelashes blinked over murky eyes, both gray and white and clear simultaneously. You could see red and blue veins around the middle, but the further from there, the less color there was at all. Gran Blie- the local apothecary- said it was the wood nymphs who stole her vision. I said it wasn't fair.
“That's where I'm headed right now.” I replied.
“Sure, I'll go.” She replied, pronouncing sure like shore. “But I'll just listen, if you don't mind.”
Always polite, always careful.
She reached up and I set her on my shoulders- my little sister. Not by family, of course, but who couldn't love Livie? I carried her walking stick so she could focus on holding onto me- she clamped both hands underneath my chin, since my hair's length didn't suffice, and began chatting as we headed down the road.
But there was a slight problem at the stables.
A full-blown argument had exploded there- one man, in the middle of a crowd, shrieked his fury as several others yelled their opinion over his roar. It took me about two seconds to realize why he was so angry.
Buknor's brother, Soir.
“You!” He screamed, pointing an accusing finger at me. “You--”
“Watch your language, Soir. Livie's here.” Markus, my boss, interrupted. Soir swallowed back whatever curse he had planned on using to describe me.
“Where is he?” He asked, his face bright red and the veins bulging from this neck. “Where is he, Ithrean?”
“Down the road, past the first bend.” I replied, nodding in that general direction. “You'll want to bring a knife with you, if you want to get him out.”
“If he's hurt, Ithrean, I swear—!”
“Blah, blah, blah.” I shrugged, “You'll hurt me, whatever. I don't really care what you say.”
“Ithrean, don't antagonize him. Soir, get out of here.” Markus snapped, annoyed that all of his workers were distracted. “Livie, would you like to ride?”
“No thank you.” Her wispy soprano voice chimed. “I'll just sit and listen.”
“Alright then.” He answered, nodding. “Ithrean, get busy, before I send you to help Soir.”
That was enough motivation for me. I set Livie down on the front step of the building and set out to muck out the horses stalls- not the funnest job, but heck, it's money in my back pocket. Buknor would know not to come here, especially during the work day. Markus would kick him out and whip him all the way back down the road- but that's beside the point.
So, in a sense, my day was going perfectly well until lunch break.
Livie left, probably to Gran Blie's, and I had more time for more mischief. And, of course, I made total use of it. It only took fifteen minutes to set up the tripwire- a new record, considering that I had to navigate around the main road- and I parked myself in front of the tavern to watch the scene. The deserted smithy begged for Buknor to come home.
My nightmares chose that particular day to come to life.
I didn't hear Livie shuffle down the road, as I craned for the stomp of Buknor's boots; I didn't notice amid the murmur of the milling people the soft thump of her stick, guiding her down the road. I didn't see her tiny form amid the crowd.
But I did see the door open.
My legs moved of their own accord; my mouth screamed her name without my realizing it. Adrenaline drove me across the road, shoving away the crowd in my haste. Her name tore through my throat once more- this couldn't be happening. Not her. Everything else in Ravenden became blurry as my horrified eyes watched her chocolate mop begin turning, hearing her name-
Internally, I died, knowing I was far too late. Knowing that my prank was designed for a two-hundred pound man, rather than a forty pound girl. Knowing she could die- knowing that my plans were going to hurt her.
Livie. Anyone but Livie.
I screamed as the trap unfolded before my appalled eyes, as I saw Livie fly back, flailing, her tiny form struggling to use invisible wings. Her silent scream of terror, her mouth open in a wide 'o', made me yell all the harder.
And then the sickening thud of her hitting the ground rang in my ears like thunder, echoing in my mind long after the sound vanished in reality.
I reached her side just a moment later, her screams of agony harmonizing with mine. A drop of relief dropped in my system- screaming meant she was alive.
For now.
Her sobs shook her whole body as my trembling voice tried asking her what exactly hurt- where the bucket of stones crashed into her small form. Even now, the pail swayed in the doorway- the wire had pulled it off the shelf. It would've done little more than knock the wind from a man, perhaps leave a bruise; to a little girl, though... her gasps warned me she could have several broken ribs.
Or a broken back.
“Ithrean,” She sobbed through broken lips, “it hurts.”
“I know.” I cried, “I know. You'll be okay, it'll be okay.”
The words were half meant to console her; the other half was to comfort me. But the unquenchable horror tightened my chest, hurting me- the fear that she wouldn't be okay, that she would be permanently hurt for the rest of her long years.
And that it would be my fault.
The roar of the crowd reached my ears, crawling towards my mind. At first it was random babble; then words, specifics echoing in my mind. Voices I knew, people I loved- all yelling, a proverbial riot on my hands.
Gran Blie shoved her way through the crowd- strong, even for an old woman- and didn't give me a second glance as she knelt down by Livie, her gentle and skilled hands prodding and poking as Livie whimpered.
My nightmare completed its circuit when the old lady gave me a ferocious glare- if she made it to my neck first, I would definitely be dead.
And then someone pulled me away from my Livie, yanking me back as I screamed and kicked, my eyes never leaving Livie. I felt the first punch, through it never registered as pain in my mind, and a second later it was all black- I didn't hear anything, I didn't see anything-
It was even worse than being awake, because I dreamed Livie was dead.
Well...? Do you like it? I, for one, adore my hooks. I'm very proud of them. What do you think of Ithrean so far? It's pronounced ITH-reen. Please tell me!
Thank you!
I loved it, Rachel! :). Your chapters do have pretty good cliff-hangers. Ithrean is pretty awesome.
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