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This has been looooong overdue, I bet some of y’all were starting to wonder if I really did have a WIP after all XD but here it is! Chapter 1 of Raven’s Quest! I have six chapters written, with the second and third being the most polished… I will say I know my dialogue needs work, so any critiques at all (but especially watch for that!) will be SO APPRECIATED. Hope y’all enjoy!!
Chapter One ~
A dark-haired girl raced down the castle hallway, tripping over the long white train of the skirt that dragged behind her as she ran. Glassy diamonds set in silvered filigree dangled from her ears, and a bejeweled necklace thumped against her chest. Had this been another day, another time she might have paused to marvel at herself in the looking glass. Who would’ve thought the sun might one day shine upon simple Raven of Arundelle clothed in such finery? Her journey had taken her farther than she could have ever known it would.
But this was not the time for idle reveries. Even as her satin slippers padded swiftly across the tiled floor, the girl arrayed in bridal clothes couldn’t quell the sinking feeling that she might be too late. Coming to a stop before the gilded oaken doors of the library, she heard low tones being uttered from inside and pressed an ear to the wood.
“You know why you’re here, don’t you?”
“Well now let me think… you couldn’t manage me on your own and decided to bring in some of your goons instead?”
Raven smiled. The voice was one she’d recognize anywhere, with the same impishness she’d always known it to possess.
“Insolent dog! You dare to answer your future king in such a way?”
The air suddenly tensed as the first speaker dropped all tones of jest and said evenly, “You never were before, and by the Archer’s bow, I swear you never shall be my king.”
There was silence and Raven, noticing a crack between the doors, quickly shifted her position to peer into the room.
A tall, dark figure stood in the center of the room, clenching and unclenching his fists in anger, but the prisoner spoke steadily, not a trace of fear to be found in his unblinking blue eyes. “You might as well kill me now. I’ll never give you what you really want.”
Prince Cuthran, his voice dripping with scorn, responded, “You could hardly believe I’d let you off that easily.” He laughed, slowly and viciously, a sound that made Raven’s skin crawl. “I may not have your allegiance, but I will have your information. Starting with the location of the Princess!”
The brave young man stared straight ahead, his face expressionless. The prince beckoned to one of his guards who advanced on the unarmed knight and felled him with a few well-placed blows. Raven sucked in a breath as Prince Cuthran dropped to one knee, roughly lifting his victim’s chin to look him in the eye. “I have all the time in the world, fool. No matter how long it takes, I will break you.” Another gesture of the hand and the prisoner was made to stand upright, his arms outstretched and each tightly tethered by a length of rope to a stone pillar on either side of him. His shirt was torn off his back and bare-chested he faced the hulking soldier brandishing club and whip.
Pained for her friend, Raven turned her face away. Removing the dagger concealed beneath her skirt, she stared at the emblem engraved on its pommel and whispered a silent prayer. “Great Archer, I need your guidance. Let me not cower before my enemies. Be with me now as I seek to save one of yours.”
The crack of a whip slicing across flesh snapped Raven to attention, and in that moment, she made her decision. Throwing caution to the wind, she yanked open the library doors and strode purposefully into the room.
~*~
Two months earlier…
Thunk! The silvered arrowhead pierced deep into the birch bark, an almost perfect bullseye. Raven narrowed her eyes, sighted down the shaft of a second arrow and let loose. It hurtled straight and true, embedding itself less than a nail’s width apart from the first. Drawing another arrow from the quiver slung across her back, Raven nocked it to her bowstring. She pinched one eye shut and slowly drew back until the arrow’s feathered tip just grazed her cheek. Suddenly, the sound of a dry branch cracking behind her startled her out of her concentration.
She whirled around, bow leveled and ready, only to face the bright-eyed gaze of her younger sister Willow. “Raven, I’m back!” she chirped innocently.
Raven frowned and relaxed her bow. “Willow, how many times do I have to tell you, don’t sneak up on me when I’m aiming! I could’ve hit you by mistake!”
“I’m sorry.” Willow whispered, her face seeming to shrivel as she dropped her gaze.
Raven struggled to look serious as she gazed at her precious sister who, at the moment, looked the very picture of a fairy princess. Wreathed in sunbeams, her long flaxen hair sparkled with pixie dust, and with each rustle of her dress she seemed to scatter stardust all around. Her pale skin looked almost as if it were glowing in the late-afternoon sun, but it was the shimmering green eyes that brought the stunning picture to perfection. Had she a pair of silvered wings or a crown of the rosiest, most elegant woodland flowers, she couldn’t have looked any lovelier than she did now.
Raven gave up, and let her cheeks widen into a grin. “That’s alright. Just try to remember next time.” Slinging the bow and quiver over her shoulder, she asked. “So how was your trip into town? Did you see Mistress Serena?”
Willow’s face was alive with excitement as she replied. “I did, I did! And you’ll never believe it, Raven! Finally I’ll be able to learn a trade—weaving! After seeing samples of my needlework, Mistress Serena declared it better than any she had seen before and agreed to take me on as one of her apprentices. I’ll help her in the shop with the sewing and embroidery and in return she shall teach me how to dye and weave. I start tomorrow!”
“That’s wonderful, Willow! Grandmama will be so pleased. Speaking of which…” Raven peered at the sky, squinting from the glare of the afternoon sun. “It’s getting late. We should head home before she starts to worry.”
Arm in arm, Raven and Willow strolled down the dirt path that wound through the woodlands. The sisters were quite different in both appearance and nature. Nineteen-year-old Raven was dark with a strong, lean figure—a result of spending much time out of doors. Coppery, dark brown hair fell to her waist in soft waves, and spirited yet soft doe brown eyes peeped out from beneath black silken lashes. Unlike most girls her age, Raven was never interested in games, clothes, gossiping with friends, or what were considered “normal” pastimes for a young woman. She instead spent much time deep in thought, with only nature and her trusty bow for company. Though perhaps more serious than most, Raven had within her heart a unique desire to understand the world, rather than just live in it—a desire that would take her far in the days to come.
Willow, on the other hand, was a chatty twelve-year old with flaxen hair, a freckle-spattered face, and emerald green eyes. Gentle and sweet-tempered, she was a favorite among the villagers—quite the opposite of her older sister. Whereas Willow fit into the stereotypical category of most young girls, Raven and her seemingly strange ways only served as a puzzle to the townspeople.
Together the sisters lived with their aging grandmother who had cared for them ever since their parents were lost to a plague over a decade ago. The little cabin they called home was located on the edge of a small forest not many miles from the village of Arundelle. Nestled among tall, ancestral trees, the cabin was rather plain and ordinary. But to the girls, it was all the home they’d ever known. Every morning they’d awaken to golden rays of sunshine filtering through the canopy of leaves overhead and sprinkling bits of light through the window panes. Fresh eggs from the chickens, vegetables from the garden, fish from the nearby stream, and game hunted from the forest provided full cupboards for the small family. They lived a simple but comfortable life and neither girl would have it any other way.
The woodland sounds of chirping birds and the occasional rustle of a squirrel or chipmunk darting through the foliage lulled in the background as the travelers made their trek home.
Raven tilted her head to the side, noting the troubled look on her sister’s face. “You’re unusually quiet, Willow. Is anything wrong?”
Willow shrugged and plucked a wildflower from a clump of grass. “It’s nothing really.”
Raven cocked an eyebrow, and after a few gentle proddings, persuaded her sister to continue.
“Well, I just wondered… Raven, why do you never go into the village with me?”
The older girl smiled weakly. “Why do you always ask the hard questions?”
Willow stroked the flower petals thoughtfully. “I just wondered. You don’t have to tell me.”
Raven’s brow creased in thought. “I don’t mind telling you, but it’s hard to put into words.” Her voice softened. “I just feel so out of place there. I don’t fit.”
Willow frowned. “What do you mean?”
Raven shook her head. “I don’t know exactly. All I know is that there’s something inside me that makes me question, why am I here? What is my purpose in life? Is there a reason for my very existence? I don’t know why I’m plagued with these feelings of emptiness and uncertainty. I suppose I hate going into town so much because it seems that with every trip, I’m reminded of those thoughts more and more. That and the fact that everyone looks down on me as peculiar… Most girls my age are content to learn a trade, raise a family, and just live life, never wondering if maybe there’s more to it than that. They seem content biding the rest of their days in oblivion, so why can’t I do the same?” Raven sighed. “It seems that no matter how hard I try, I simply can’t quench this desire inside to know who I am, what my purpose is, and where I truly belong.”
Willow shook her head. “You’re right. I do ask hard questions.”
Raven chuckled lightly, though her heart ached with the concerns she had just voiced. Would she ever truly find the answers she was looking for? How much longer would such feelings and doubts continue to haunt her? Clearing the thoughts from her mind, Raven changed the subject. “But enough of that. Tell me more about your interview with Mistress Serena.”
The weighty topic of beforehand was soon forgotten as the sisters continued their journey home. They talked and laughed as they went, with Willow making plans for her first weaving project and Raven speculating on Grandmama’s reaction to the good news.
Upon sighting their cabin, still a half-mile away, Willow raced ahead, announcing their arrival with a shout of “Grandmama, we’re home!”
Raven, however, paused atop the grassy knoll that signaled an exit from the forest. Her eyes scanned the landscape ahead, drinking in the pleasant sight of their cozy little log home. Tendrils of ivy draped around the sturdy oak timbers, and a small but tidy garden graced the sandy walkway. She resumed her relaxed stroll down the hill, but was dissuaded by the wind, who seemed to have other ideas. The breeze rustling through the trees swooped out and into the air around her, spinning Raven in a circle. Giggling, she twirled in its arms and, kicking off her shoes, waltzed barefoot in the sun’s waning glow. Grass tickled her ankles and the wind pressed its hand firmer against her back. Raven’s eyes shone and she curtsied gleefully to her invisible partner. How silly she would look if someone happened to pass by! Why, whoever heard of dancing with the wind? Raven laughed harder at the thought and tripping over her own feet, she tumbled to the ground. She rolled on her back and lay there in the carpet of green, her eyes closed. How was it that things as intangible as wind and sunshine could make her spirits soar, her heart feel so light?
But such feelings never last for long, and all of the sudden, Raven was jerked out of her daydream by a shrill scream. Leaping to her feet, she skidded down the hill and sprinted toward the house. Fear coursed through her veins as she burst inside, her eyes taking in the sight of her beloved grandmother lying in a heap on the floor. Willow was slumped against the prostrate form, tears pouring down her cheeks. Raven dropped to her knees, pressing her ear against Grandmama’s chest. There was still a heartbeat! Relief flooded through her, only to be dampened by the sudden realization that her grandmother was in serious danger.
“Is she—” Willow broke off, tears choking back the rest of the words.
Raven got to her feet. “No. No, she’s still alive, but I-I’m not sure what’s wrong, she…” But even before the words had left her mouth, Raven knew. Images of long ago, though hazy and clouded, instantly rose to her memory. Her mother and father, unconscious and gasping for breath, their skin spotted with a dark, blotchy rash. Grandmama moving about in a frenzied rush. The baby, Willow, wailing for her mama, and a seven-year old Raven, afraid, unsure, and not fully comprehending what was going on, cowering in a corner, trying to comfort her little sister though she had no comfort to give. After two weeks of her parent’s agonized struggling, the rash had completely engulfed their bodies, and as soon as the last patch of skin was taken by it… they were gone. Horrified, Raven observed the same dull discoloration spreading up her grandmother’s neck. No! It couldn’t happen again! She could not lose Grandmama the same way!
“Raven! Raven, what do we do?”
Willow’s frantic cries jarred Raven out of the past and back to reality. Assuming command she ordered, “Help me carry her to the bed.”
Willow scrambled to her feet, and together the girls managed to hoist the old woman into the bedroom. Raven drew her hand across Grandmama’s fevered brow. She was sweating profusely and her skin was hot and blistering. She was getting worse.
“Willow, you’re going to have to run to the village and fetch help. I-I don’t know what to do, and Grandmama could die if we don’t get her fever down.”
Willow nodded wordlessly and rose to her feet. Blinking back tears, she bent down to softly kiss her grandmother’s cheek and then flew out the door.
Raven pumped cool water and soaked towels in it with which to bathe Grandmama’s burning forehead. It was all she could think of to do. After what seemed an eternity, Willow returned with Celest, the apothecary. The older woman examined her patient, making no comments. Finally, Raven could stand it no more.
“Will she be all right?” She blurted. “Can you do something for her?”
Celest studied Raven before replying softly. “It is as I feared; your grandmother has contracted Hathiat, a sickness often seen in these parts, although very little is known about it. It seizes its victims at random, with no apparent cause. None of our medicines have any effect on it, even though it is so common. I’m afraid, my dear, that this disease… cannot be treated.”
Raven’s mind took a staggering step back. “What? You can’t mean… she’ll…” Raven choked back a sob. “die?”
Celest shook her head, pityingly. “I’m afraid so, child. It happens to us all, at one time or another. Your grandmother lived a good long life, and perhaps—”
“But isn’t there anything we can do? Anything at all?” Raven cried.
The apothecary started to shake her head, then hesitated. “There might… oh, but it’s so far…”
“What? You must tell me!”
Celest replied haltingly. “There is a wise old healer… Master Skosior, who is reputed to be very knowledgeable about all kinds of diseases. He might know of a cure but… he lives in Parousia.”
Parousia. She’d heard the name but once, referenced by a villager. It was far; that much she knew. Raven’s mind clouded with worry. How would she ever be able to get there?
The apothecary could apparently discern what Raven was thinking and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “It would be nearly impossible for you to make it, child, I understand. But we can at least do our best to keep the fever down, and maybe—”
“There is a possibility that he could help Grandmama? Could he really have a cure?”
Celest nodded tentatively, “It is possible… I myself have never met the man but others have claimed he’s a miracle worker. But Parousia is far into the middle of our land of Arnathea—a distance close to 200 miles! Not to mention that in order to get there on time you would have to cross through hostile Nipary Wood, simply teeming with marauders and outlaws! How would you even—”
“I’m going. I have to, Celest. I just have to.”
The earnest but determined look in Raven’s eyes was enough to convince Celest that it would be useless to argue. The elderly woman bobbed her head uneasily. “Yes, I suppose you must. You’ll need to know how to get there, I suppose, and what you’re looking for.”
Raven swallowed her uneasiness and answered with a nod. Celest looked her in the eye and said gravely, “If you do find that Master Skosior is able to provide a cure, you must be back within two weeks. No victim of the Hathiat has ever survived longer than that once the rash begins to spread.” She cleared her throat. “Bring me a piece of parchment and something to write with.”
Raven obeyed and paid keen attention as Celest sketched a rough map.
“To get to Parousia you must follow the northeastern path from town. Other healers and traders I’ve spoken with in the past all claim it is the quickest route.” She rolled up the parchment and pressed it into Raven’s hands. “The journey is straightforward, no treacherous twists or turns, simply keep to the path and you will arrive safely, if…” Her voice quieted. “If you are not beset upon by the thieves of Nipary.”
Brushing aside Celest’s ominous warning, Raven queried, “Once I have reached Parousia, how will I find Master Skosior?”
“His hut will be in the very center of the city. A large stone marker issued by the Healer’s Guild has been placed before his home, affording him some measure of fame. Ask anyone in the twon and you will have no trouble finding him.”
Raven nodded, her brow furrowed. “I’ll saddle Ryn and ride immediately into town to obtain provisions. It’s too late in the day to leave now… I’ll stay the night in an inn and leave early tomorrow morning.” She turned and, noting her sister’s fearful expression, clasped her hands warmly. “Take care of Grandmama, Willow, and don’t worry, I’ll be back soon.”
Willow’s lower lip trembled and after a murmured consent, she tearfully fell into her sister’s embrace.
Celest shook her head sadly and, wrapping her shawl around her shoulders, prepared to leave. “I wish you the best, dear girl. I take my leave now but will be sure to drop in over the next few days. The village women will be by as well, I’m sure, to offer whatever assistance they can.”
Raven nodded numbly and thanked the apothecary. Her sister still wept in her arms and it took all of Raven’s strength not to join her pitiful sobbing.
I have no special talent. I am only passionately curious.
@starshiness AHHHHH I ALREADY KNOW WHO THE PERSON BEING HURT IN THE FIRST PART IS SOOOOOBBBBB
#IfMarcelDiesIRiot
#ProtectMarcel
#ProtectSeb@godlyfantasy12 😭😭😭 YES WE DO, poor boy gets beat on way too much *sob*
@esther-c Thank you!!! <3I have no special talent. I am only passionately curious.
Wow! I love it!!! It is so realistic and just pulls you in!
Wow, your writing is AWESOME! The idea is really cool, and I love the names! I thought the dialogue was great, actually. And I do not know who was getting beat up in the first part, so please don’t tell me XD
You can make anything by writing - C. S. Lewis
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@starshiness AHHHH, I LOVE IT SO MUCHHHHHH!!!!!! I can’t believe I’ve cried already XD But it’s sooooooooooo goood!!!!!!! AHHHHH!!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
OH…OH MY GOODNESSSSSSS…IS THE GUY GETTING WHIPPED IN THE FIRST PART…THE BABY??????????
😭😭
@acancello Thank you so much!! <3
@kyronthearcanin Ahhhh thank youuuuu! Really!! I’m so glad, I know it gets choppy in some later chapters and it’s so hard to properly evaluate your own writing when you’ve seen it and read it over so many times. Ooh ok ok I won’t spill the beans 🤫🤐@freedomwriter76 OMW REALLY ALREADY?!?!!! Girl you ain’t seen nothin yet XD THANK YOU!!!!!
The Baby… 🤣🤣 Ok just gonna say right now, I keeled over and died at that name for him when I first read your comment XDXD But yes, you are correct, it is him 😭😭
I have no special talent. I am only passionately curious.
- Rank: Chosen One
- Total Posts: 8156
@starshiness YESS, ALREADY!!!!! (i’ve been crying over my own writing lately, what are you talking about!?!? 0_o i’ve been emotional lately XD) YOU ARE SO WELCOMEEEEE!!!!!! ❤️❤️❤️
haha, lol, why did you DIE!? XDXDXD
NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!! 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
Y’all…. I feel like this is just a representation of my success rates with editing… right after I post this chapter I decide to overhaul a section of it and make it flow so much better, but ofc it’s only AFTER I’ve posted this XD
I have no special talent. I am only passionately curious.
@freedomwriter76 XDXD I meant there’s worse to come lolllll
I died laughingggg lolll it was just your choice of using that term to avoid saying his name that for some reason was so funny to me XDXD
I have no special talent. I am only passionately curious.
@starshiness This’ll be cool! When I have time to read it I definitely will!! (Subscribed to the topic already….)
Where'd I get ya this time? The liver? The kidney? I'm runnin' outta places to put holes in ya.
@keilah-h Awesome, thx! Yea no worries, take your time, there’s a lot there and more to come still lol.
I have no special talent. I am only passionately curious.
Okay soooo fyi… any of y’all who have yet to read the story… ignore the first post and read this one instead, I am now cringing so hard at some of the paragraphs in there and want to purge myself completely of them XD. I also reformatted the chapters… Let’s just say today was a big edit day for RQ anddd I did not realize that until now lol. Let’s try this again 🤦🏽♀️
Chapter 1
A dark-haired girl raced down the castle hallway, tripping over the long white train of the skirt that dragged behind her as she ran. Glassy diamonds set in silvered filigree dangled from her ears, and a bejeweled necklace thumped against her chest. Had this been another day, another time she might have paused to marvel at herself in the looking glass. Who would’ve thought the sun might one day shine upon simple Raven of Arundelle clothed in such finery? Her journey had taken her farther than she could have ever known it would.
But this was not the time for idle reveries. Even as her satin slippers padded swiftly across the tiled floor, the girl arrayed in bridal clothes couldn’t quell the sinking feeling that she might be too late. Coming to a stop before the gilded oaken doors of the library, she heard low tones being uttered from inside and pressed an ear to the wood.
“You know why you’re here, don’t you?”
“Let me think… you couldn’t manage me on your own and decided to bring in some of your goons instead?”
Raven smiled. The voice was one she’d recognize anywhere, with the same impishness she’d always known it to possess.
“Insolent dog!” The sound of a harsh slap to the face followed the angry screech. “You dare to answer your future king in such a way?”
The air suddenly tensed as the first speaker dropped all tones of jest and said evenly, “You never were before, and by the Archer’s bow, I swear you never shall be my king.”
An uneasy silence followed, and in that moment Raven, noticing a crack between the doors, quickly shifted her position to peer inside.
A tall, dark figure stood in the center of the room, clenching and unclenching his fists in anger. Still unshaken despite the wrath he had incurred, the prisoner spoke steadily, his head held high and not a trace of fear to be found in his unblinking blue eyes. “You might as well kill me now. I’ll never give you what you really want, and that is a promise.”
Raven pressed her lips together, her heart aching with both pride and fear.
The prince stepped closer, his voice dripping with scorn. “You could hardly believe I’d let you off that easily.” He laughed, slowly and viciously, a sound that made Raven’s skin crawl. “I may not have your allegiance, but I will have your information.” His eyes hardened. “Starting with the location of the Princess.”
The brave young man stared straight ahead, his face expressionless. The prince beckoned to one of his guards who advanced on the unarmed knight and felled him with a few well-placed blows. Raven sucked in a breath as Prince Cuthran dropped to one knee, roughly lifting his victim’s chin to look him in the eye. “I have all the time in the world, fool. No matter how long it takes, I will break you.” Another gesture of the hand and the prisoner was made to stand upright, his arms outstretched and each tightly tethered by a length of rope to a stone pillar on either side of him. His shirt was torn off his back and bare-chested he faced the hulking soldier brandishing club and whip.
Raven’s eyes filled with tears, and unable to watch, she turned her face away. Removing the dagger concealed beneath her skirt, she stared at the emblem engraved on its pommel and whispered a silent prayer. “Great Archer, I need your guidance. Let me not cower before my enemies. Be with me now as I seek to save one of yours.”
The crack of a whip slicing across flesh snapped Raven to attention, and in that moment, she made her decision. Throwing caution to the wind, she yanked open the library doors and strode purposefully into the room.
~*~
Two months earlier…
Thunk! The silvered arrowhead pierced deep into the birch bark, an almost perfect bullseye. Raven narrowed her eyes, sighted down the shaft of a second arrow and let loose. It hurtled straight and true, embedding itself less than a nail’s width apart from the first. Drawing another arrow from the quiver slung across her back, Raven nocked it to her bowstring. She pinched one eye shut and slowly drew back until the arrow’s feathered tip just grazed her cheek. Suddenly, the sound of a dry branch cracking behind her startled her out of her concentration.
She whirled around, bow leveled and ready, only to face the bright-eyed gaze of her younger sister Willow. “Raven, I’m back!” she chirped innocently.
Raven frowned and relaxed her bow. “Willow, how many times do I have to tell you, don’t approach so quietly when I’m aiming! I nearly hit you by mistake!”
“I’m sorry.” Willow whispered, her face seeming to shrivel as she dropped her gaze.
Raven struggled to look severe as she gazed at her precious sister who, at the moment, looked the very picture of a fairy princess. Wreathed in sunbeams, her long flaxen hair sparkled with pixie dust, and with each rustle of her dress she seemed to scatter stardust all around. Her pale skin looked almost as if it were glowing in the late-afternoon sun, but it was the shimmering green eyes that brought the stunning picture to perfection. Had she a pair of silvered wings or a crown of the rosiest, most elegant woodland flowers, she couldn’t have looked any lovelier than she did now.
Raven surrendered and let her lips turn up into a soft smile. “It’s alright. But please try to remember next time.” Slinging the bow and quiver over her shoulder, she asked. “So how was your trip into town? Did you see Mistress Serena?”
Willow’s face was alive with excitement as she replied. “I did, I did! You’ll never believe it, Raven. After seeing samples of my needlework, Mistress Serena declared it better than any she had seen before.”
“Well of course she did, what have Grandmama and I been telling you all along? Your needlework is beautiful, certainly much better than mine.”
Willow giggled proudly, then plunged back into her account. “Mistress Serena has agreed to take me on as one of her apprentices, so I can perfect my embroidery skills as well as learn a new trade—weaving! I’ll help her in the shop with the sewing and in return she will teach me how to dye and weave. I start tomorrow!”
“So soon! The Mistress must be eager for your help.” Raven cracked a playful smile. “Although who wouldn’t be eager for the best twelve-year-old embroiderer in the shire to begin work at her shop.” At another of Willow’s delighted giggles, Raven continued. “Who knows, you may very well attract rich customers from all throughout Arnathea.” Raven curtsied elegantly, bowing her head low, then flipping her dark curls back with a flair as she straightened up. “Rich ladies will travel all the way to our small village of Arundelle just to have Mistress Willow, embroiderer extraordinaire, design their fancy handkerchiefs and dresses and cloaks with her masterful technique. Now what do you think of that?”
Peals of laughter rippled from her sister’s throat, a sound that delighted Raven more than Willow would ever know. “I think,” she finally replied, “that you have a wild imagination that you must learn to get the better of.” And with that, she put on her best impression of a grown-up face.
“Oh, do you now!” Raven began to laugh herself at the perceived reversal of roles. “Well think again, if it weren’t for this glorious thing called imagination, what could I possibly do to keep myself occupied around here?”
Willow’s grin faltered. “You could come into town with me. Visit with the other girls, look around the shops, play games with the children…”
Struck by the turn their conversation had taken, Raven stuttered momentarily. She peered at the sky, squinting from the glare of the afternoon sun before daring to look back at Willow. “It’s getting late. We should head home before Grandmama starts to worry.”
The younger girl nodded and together, Raven and Willow strolled down the dirt path that wound through the woodlands. It was a silent trek, but one that gave Raven time to reflect, as she often did.
The sisters were quite different in both appearance and nature. Nineteen-year-old Raven was dark in complexion with a strong, lean figure—a result of spending much time out of doors. Coppery, dark brown hair fell to her waist in soft waves, and spirited yet soft doe-brown eyes peeped out from beneath black silken lashes. She was beautiful, though she did not know it. Had she paid attention to the envious glances of the village girls and the long looks that were taken by the young men of the town on the rare occasions that she went out in public, Raven might have realized her own loveliness. But she didn’t. Unlike most young women her age, Raven was the last to consider or care for such things. Her thoughts always seemed to be of a more serious nature.
Willow, on the other hand, was a chatty twelve-year old with flaxen hair, a freckle-spattered face, and emerald green eyes. Gentle and sweet-tempered, she was a favorite among the villagers—quite the opposite of her older sister. While Raven was admired from afar for her looks, her seemingly strange ways only served as a puzzle to the townspeople.
Together the sisters lived with their aging grandmother who had cared for them ever since their parents were lost to illness over a decade ago. The little cabin they called home was located on the edge of a small forest not many miles from the village of Arundelle. Nestled among tall, ancestral trees, the cabin was rather plain and ordinary. But to the girls, it was all the home they’d ever known. Every morning they’d awaken to golden rays of sunshine filtering through the canopy of leaves overhead and sprinkling bits of light through the window panes. Fresh eggs from the chickens, vegetables from the garden, fish from the nearby stream, and game hunted from the forest provided full cupboards for the small family. They lived a simple but comfortable life and neither girl would have it any other way.
The woodland sounds of chirping birds and the occasional rustle of a squirrel or chipmunk darting through the foliage lulled in the background as the travelers made their trek home.
“Raven?”
At the sound her name, Raven focused her attention on her sister’s troubled face.
Despite the obvious resistance her question had met before, Willow was determined to revive the topic. “Why don’t you go into the village with me?”
Raven sighed deeply and began to shake her head, but Willow, anticipating her sister’s dismissive response, interrupted. “Please, Raven, I want to know.”
Raven’s brow creased in thought. What was the short answer to her sister’s question? How could she explain her thoughts… It wasn’t that she disliked the townspeople so much as she couldn’t understand them. She viewed them as small-minded, and in return they considered her peculiar. And was it any wonder? Most girls her age were content to learn a trade, marry, raise a family, and do nothing else for the rest of their lives, never wondering if maybe there’s more to it than that. They seemed content biding the rest of their days in oblivion… but somehow Raven couldn’t stand the thought of doing the same. It’s not that such a life was too simple or mundane, in truth, her life in the forest was far less interesting than that. The trouble was she had no reason to believe that such a life was the one for her. Why should she simply follow in the footsteps of the silly, simple-minded girls of the village? Is that all a woman is made for, to serve her husband and children? Why? What makes that her responsibility? If she ever did go along with such a philosophy would it satisfy the emptiness, the uncertainty in her heart?
Staggered by the weight of her heavy thoughts, Raven realized she had stopped walking and Willow was still waiting for an answer.
She tried to smile, only barely succeeding. “You know I’m not well liked among the townspeople.”
Willow shrugged and plucked a wildflower from a clump of grass. “I’m sure they don’t all dislike you.”
“Mmm yes, somewhere among the hundreds in Arundelle there must be at least one who doesn’t despise my existence.”
Willow rolled her eyes. “So dramatic.”
That coaxed a giggle out of Raven to which Willow happily responded to by putting an arm around her sister. She leaned her head against Raven’s side. “They just don’t know you like I do, that’s all. Maybe you should try getting to know them and they can see for themselves just how special you are.”
Raven wrapped an arm around her sister, leaning her cheek against Willow’s head. “Maybe I will. Someday.”
Despite the warmth from Willow’s sweet words, Raven’s heart ached with thoughts still fresh in her mind. Would she ever truly find the answers she was looking for? How much longer would such feelings and doubts continue to haunt her?
Resolving to clear such worries from her mind, Raven changed the subject. “Enough of all that. Tell me more about your interview with Mistress Serena.”
The weighty topic of beforehand was soon forgotten as the sisters continued their journey home. They talked and laughed as they went, with Willow making plans for her first weaving project and Raven speculating on Grandmama’s reaction to the good news.
Upon sighting their cabin, still a half-mile away, Willow raced ahead, announcing their arrival with a shout of “Grandmama, we’re home!”
Raven, however, paused atop the grassy knoll that signaled an exit from the forest. Her eyes scanned the landscape ahead, drinking in the pleasant sight of their cozy little log home. Tendrils of ivy draped around the sturdy oak timbers, and a small but tidy garden graced the sandy walkway. She resumed her relaxed stroll down the hill, but was dissuaded by the wind, who seemed to have another idea. The breeze rustling through the trees swooped out and into the air around her, spinning Raven in a circle. Giggling, she twirled in its arms and, kicking off her shoes, waltzed barefoot in the sun’s waning glow. Grass tickled her ankles and the wind pressed its hand firmer against her back. Raven’s eyes shone and she curtsied gleefully to her invisible partner. How silly she would look if someone happened to pass by! Why, whoever heard of dancing with the wind? Raven laughed harder at the thought and tripping over her own feet, she tumbled to the ground. She rolled on her back and lay there in the carpet of green, her eyes closed. How was it that things as intangible as wind and sunshine could make her spirits soar, her heart feel so light?
But such feelings never last for long, and all at once, Raven was jerked out of her daydream by a shrill scream. Leaping to her feet, she skidded down the hill and sprinted toward the house. Fear coursed through her veins as she burst inside, her eyes taking in the sight of her beloved grandmother lying in a heap on the floor. Willow was slumped against the prostrate form, tears pouring down her cheeks. Raven dropped to her knees, pressing her ear against Grandmama’s chest. There was still a heartbeat! Relief flooded through her, only to be dampened by the sudden realization that her grandmother was in serious danger.
“Is she—” Willow broke off, tears choking back the rest of the words.
Raven got to her feet. “No. No, she’s still alive, but I-I’m not sure what’s wrong, she…” But even before the words had left her mouth, Raven knew. Images of long ago, though hazy and clouded, instantly rose to her memory. Her mother and father, unconscious and gasping for breath, their skin spotted with a dark, blotchy rash. Grandmama moving about in a frenzied rush. The baby, Willow, wailing for her mama, and a seven-year old Raven, afraid, unsure, and not fully comprehending what was going on, cowering in a corner, trying to comfort her little sister though she had no comfort to give. After two weeks of her parent’s agonized struggling, the rash had completely engulfed their bodies, and as soon as the last patch of skin was taken by it… they were gone. Horrified, Raven observed the same dull discoloration spreading up her grandmother’s neck. No! It couldn’t happen again! She could not lose Grandmama the same way!
“Raven! Raven, what do we do?”
Willow’s frantic cries jarred Raven out of the past and back to reality. Assuming command she ordered, “Help me carry her to the bed.”
Willow scrambled to her feet, and together the girls managed to hoist the old woman into the bedroom. Raven drew her hand across Grandmama’s fevered brow. She was sweating profusely and her skin was hot and blistering. She was getting worse by the minute.
“Willow, you’re going to have to run to the village and fetch help. I-I don’t know what to do, and Grandmama could die if we don’t get her fever down.”
Willow nodded wordlessly and rose to her feet. Blinking back tears, she bent down to softly kiss her grandmother’s cheek and then flew out the door.
Raven pumped cool water and soaked towels in it with which to bathe Grandmama’s burning forehead. It was all she could think of to do, but it felt so, so useless.
Watching her Grandmother’s still face, it was as if Raven’s own life flashed before her eyes. And in every scene, every memory, Grandmama was there. Raven couldn’t remember having gone even a day without her Grandmother’s presence. If she didn’t make it, if she joined her parents among the realm of the lost, would Raven be able to continue on alone, provide for and parent Willow by herself? Was she strong enough for such a task?
No, she wasn’t ready to give her up. Not now, not yet, she couldn’t.
I have no special talent. I am only passionately curious.
- Rank: Chosen One
- Total Posts: 8156
@starshiness 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
lol XD Glad I could make you laugh XD I call several charries babies, always my favs 😉 also, it’s hilarious bc here on KP, some of us have “unofficially” adopted each others’ charries XD
But The Baby!!!! How dare anyone hurt him!?!?!? 😭😭
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