Aythra ~ a novel (incomplete)

~Prologue~

So softly did the wind whisper, bringing tidings to the fair ear of the lady, who sat, stately as a statue, upon a throne of carved ice. Her hair like starlight, her lips red as blood. So beautiful, yet so cold...her eyes twin orbs of flinty silver that cleaved victims with a single glance.

She listened...and the wind told her everything it had heard in its travels across the lands. Her expression froze. Terrible rage was etched upon her marble features and her fingers curled into an iron fist. She rose....

~Illea~

I felt empty, hollowed out, as they led a dazed me back to my room after the funeral. All those praises they said over his grave meant nothing. No words can express the grief and emptiness I felt...

I sat at the window we looked out together so many times. The shaggy moorland ponies galloping across the blooming heather, the sapphire sea gently rocking the boats moored on its beaches. It was as if the world had continued on, ignorant of my feelings...

I remember sitting on his lap, placing my tiny pink mitts in his big warm hands, his deep voice teasing me, calling me his fuzzy kitten.

I watched an grieved as my tall, lean, energetic father fell ill to an unknown disease. I watched, helpless, as little by little, his muscular frame diminished and his energies were sapped. Still, he maintained a jovial mood and hid his pain in my presence. He fought the malady to his last second...

A single, left-out tear crawled down my cheek......father.......

Tap, tap. A faint, hesitant knock jolted me from my reverie. A tiny crack opened in the door.

"Illea?" it was soft and concerned.

"Phyll?" the broken croak from my throat was closer to a toad's voice than mine.

I tumbled into her ample embrace, glad for her warmth. Strange though she was, Phyllovia had always been the big sister I never had. I never knew where she came from and never bothered to ask, only knowing that she had been around longer than I remember.

"Here...this your father told me to give you," Phyll drew, from within the folds of her skirts a jewellery case made of the finest rosewood. Etched into the polished wood and surrounded by intricate patterns of snowflakes and vines were elegant runes that formed the word 'Aythra'. Meaningless to me, yet heavy with the tinge of power. Inlaid with mother of pearl, the runes gleamed. Sitting on a winged golden clasp the shape of crossed swan wings was a large, brilliantly cut amethyst. The jewel was exactly the same shade as my violet eyes...extraordinary....

I have a good feeling that this box itself would be more precious than any other treasure in the world except the one it contained.

With trembling fingers, I lifted the lid. Nestled inside, cushioned by the finest white silk, was a necklace unlike any other. Delicate ringlets of diamond were linked together to form a chain as thin as a spiders thread, each minuscule link gleaming brightly even in the dim light of the room. The pendant was even more breathtaking. Slender tongues of the purest amethyst and electric blue sapphire chased each other around in a hypnotic pattern, forming loops that seemed to have neither beginning nor end, twisting and looping around each other in manner so complex that the eye cannot follow one strand, but instead jumped from one to another. Most astonishing of all, it was hollow...the twisted strands of precious gems formed a cage of sorts, with a hollow within. A hollow that seemed to be filled with faint silver light...or is it just my eyes?

My shaking finger brushed the jewel. A burst of freezing energy surged from the jewel into me, scouring every vein as it passed through my body. From within my mind, a voice of power, the voice fate itself would possess, thundered:

"Pass thee through the fire that would not burn,

The ice that would not chill,

The light that would not glow,

And the darkness that would not blind,

to embrace thy destiny"

A blinding white light flashed, and a vision of a bone white fortress towering over a field of pure white revealed itself for a millisecond before disappearing in a second flash.

I hit Phyll's hands, numb and paralysed, as the alien energy left. I lifted a leaden right hand and looked at the pendant. Silver light burned briefly from within, shooting out in rays through gaps within the complicated loops. Then, it faded out again. The black world of unconsciousness enveloped me...

***************

SOMEWHERE IN ALASKA

A dim yellow lantern hung on the ceiling, its dreary light casting shadows in the bare, musty room. Sigafska Hudjorn fidgeted nervously as he faced the man in shadows across the pitted table. Sig would never admit that he had been afraid of this man, but his high squeaky voice put Sig's nerves on edge. Of all the 'clients' Sig had served in his time, this man had been the most impatient. His normally small head looked even more puny with his fur coats on.

"You will complete this assignment in a week, Sigafska, or you will have me to answer to. Mark my words, Hudjorn, seven days." he hissed in a high pitched whisper.

Biting back a sharp retort, Sig answered, "Never fear, my lord, The Shadow Hands never miss a target."

"Very well. You will find her --" He unrolled a map on the table. "--here". His bony finger jabbed the West coast of Ireland. "The Imardyll manor".

**************

~Illea~

"Illea! Illea Imardyll! Wake up!" Phyll's urgent whisper, loud and harsh, made me force open my eyelids, which weighed tonnes. My head pounded and my hair was slicked with sweat.

The swirling whorls of colours focused, and I saw Phyll's face, with it's bright, tiny eyes and oddly bulging cheeks gazing at me with concern. My leaden head swiveled slightly to the right, and caught sight of the necklace, still clutched in my fist --

"ARRGGHH!" I dropped the necklace as if burned, then bolted, scrambling to the wall, where I slid down into a sitting position. One trembling finger rose. "That...that necklace...it...it--" I was almost hysterical.

"Calm down, Illea." Phyll grabbed my shoulders, holding me. I took a deep, shudderting breath. "Now, tell me what happened."

Phyll's voice had a controlled, suppressed tone I never heard before. Beneath it...anxiety? Doubt? Fear? I do not know. Her eyes glinted with a strange light. her expression scared me.

"Illea? Tell me, Illea. What happened?"

I gulped, unblocking my throat, and told her everything, omitting no details. When my tale ended, Phyll had a thoughtful look on her pudgy features.

to be continued soon.

Lost ~Prologue~

It was as if the creatures of the night were also in mourning, lamenting the girl's loss. Silence was profound in the glade. The wind slithered through the tall grasses and smoothed the girl's hair from her brow as if in sympathy.

She was still keeled over his body, her shoulders shaking with soundless sobs. Crushed by grief and rent with agony, unable to reconcile with the cruel reality of death.

She became still after a while, and the ominous silence lengthened....

Without warning, she threw back her head and screamed at the heavens, her hands rigid claws by her sides. Her shriek, inhuman with wordless anguish, pierced the night, shattering each layer of muffling silence.

She rose, tremors running through her body. With shaking fingers, she unsheathed a twisted dagger from her belt. Her haunted eyes stared into the bloodstained blade, and the last sparks of reason were extinguished. In their place, the flames of insanity burned higher and higher, consuming her, powering her. A maniacal, hysterical laugh clawed through her throat. Her eyes burned with an unquenchable thirst~Revenge.

That was the night the demon was born

**********

"Look at those two," the women nudged each other, pointing and whispering. Under the sheltering curtains of the aged willow, two heads were bent together, gold to midnight. Liquid emerald stared into melted chocolate, bewitched by each other and young love. Porcelain fingers were laced together and held between them, tender and sweet. Presently, as the nosy washerwomen looked on, their lips met...

**********

Never had she felt so happy in her life. Love seared her veins and sang in her heart, filling her from her petite feet to the tips of her pointed ears. Her hands plaited the flowers, but her mind wandered into a familiar daydream. The sunlight playing on his honey-blond hair, his exquisite features, his divine lips, his tender embrace, the tingle his touch induced within her, and his eyes....bottomless wells of green, tinged with gold when mischievous, blue when sorrow, black when furious, and pure emerald, overflowing with love..... a colour only she could bring out. The way he always looks at her, with awe, adoration and even reverence, like she was his goddess....like she was his life. Oh, if only he were here right now........

"Dewen"

Her heart skipped, and she smiled. She loved the way his musical voice wrapped around her name like a caress. She turned, and there he stood , his arms open and waiting, his lips upturned in a smile.

She leapt into his arms, feeling their warmth wrap around her slim body.

"Rainon. You're back," relief mingled with love in her sweet, melodious voice. She stroked his cheek and toyed with the tip of his ear, inhaling that familiar scent of almost-cinnamon-and-orange blossoms.

"Come, let us go home." He murmured, kissing her hair.

The last of the sun's rays filtered through the thin membranes of their little tent in the trees, bathing them in red and gold. Dewen flitted around their little home, assembling a simple dinner of warm, aromatic bread, fresh berries and cider. "So how was the convention today?" Dewen asked conversationally. Once every month, the wood elves take turns to assemble, to merge their magic and sing, weaving enchantments through the notes to encourage trees and flowers to grow, to enrich the forest that was their home.

"Same as usual," he answered in an offhand voice, but Dewen knew his voice well enough to detect the undercurrent of tension. She turned sharply to look at him, and saw a faint crease between his brows that occurred rarely, and never boded well. He saw her watching, and smoothed his face out, forcing a smile.

She wasn't fooled. She darted to him and put her hands on his shoulders, staring straight into his eyes, which had turned an ashen shade of dark green. Fear and anger.

"Rainon, what's wrong?"

"Nothing you need to worry about," he said, still smiling but unable to hide his anxiety.

"Of course it's something I need to worry about, else you won't keep it from me," she retorted,

"Please? I want to help."He gazed her anxious but determined expression, and sighed, turning his head away. She would not be letting him go without an explanation.

"Humans" he admitted.

Colour drained from her face and her dark brown eyes were bleached to a pale, sickly ochre.

"What?" she whispered, fear evident in her voice. Rainon stroked her fearful face, trying to soothe and comfort, though he was as afraid himself for her, for their home, and for their entire race. For years no humans had dared enter the forest, for terrible fate is said to await those who braved the enclosed glades. Most were never seen again.

Now, things were changing . Humans bred like rodents, and where they lacked in magic, they more than made up for with cruel ingenuity. Weapon after unimaginable weapon were invented. Sacred animals were captured and slaughtered with impunity. Elven villages near the forest edge were forced to move or be discovered and captured. Age old trees, mystical sentinels of the ancient forest were cut down one by one. Humans were an abhorrent race. If the barbarians invaded....

He snapped out of his dark thoughts when he noticed her shaking.

"It's okay, love, it's alright. They were just looking around" He lied unconvincingly."They won't do anything. We won't let them have their way. We--"

A blood-curdling scream echoed throughout the forest.

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Just a random stroke of inspiration. Don't think I can even continue with this. And I seem to have copied a lot of ideas from other established authors. yikes..........

Actually, this is my first attempt with romance, so.....ahem.......you know....bad...real bad.............

Xp

Elven Woods. A magical place. A place where you can easily get lost in and actually like getting lost in. Or, at least, I hope you do. So nice, isn't it, when your own dull, mundane life takes a back seat and you take a trip into the wondrous world of make-believe. Of course, by now, you should know just what kind of person I am. I hate reality. I sometimes hide from it, even. Sometimes, I think, if I wish hard enough, maybe, just maybe, it'll come true? Of course, it never does, but still......

I frequently entertain escapist daydreams.... so much that they seem real. People say I'm weird, usually when I just stare off into space and have a goofy smile on my face that seems to have no reason to be there. But those are sometimes my best, happiest moments. For a moment, just for a moment, I can pretend the world isn't so cold, cruel and lonely. I can pretend that fairy princes are real. I can believe. Facts...logic...reason....all out of the window. How lovely, how free!