Bump

Taking a hiatus for a bit to concentrate on publishing a story...will be back to rp and write, so if you need me, just rmail ^-^

^

Angelica gasped with delighted as she saw a golden leaf float past the window. In the crisp autumn wind, multi-coloured leaves drifted from the trees to form an eye-catching dappled carpet. The rustle of dry leaves on the stone paths reminded Angelica of the lazy days she spent keeping herself warm by the fire when it was raining outside. Tears prickled the insides of Angelica’s eyes and she blinked quickly to keep them from sliding down her cheeks.

       “Why…why are the leaves all yellow and red? Are they sick?” she asked.

       Saria stared at her openly, not minding the annoyed looks Neil was shooting at her. “Sick? Leaves don’t get sick! It’s fall, all the trees turn like this. Didn’t you know?”

 

       “No I didn’t. Mother and Father didn’t let me out of the house; they were scared someone would find out about them. I wasn’t allowed near the windows either. Even if it was cold outside, I wasn’t allowed to light a fire if Mother and Father weren’t home. I’ve only gone out of the house once, and that was today. I was too worried to notice the trees.” Angelica frowned angrily. She didn’t like Saria.

       Alayna scolded Saria. “Child that is not how we treat our guests, you should know that! Off to bed, Saria. We have a busy day tomorrow. The gardens need tending, leaves need to be raked and the crops need harvesting. Gwen, Tori, Fenecros and Brian, you get some sleep too.”

 

       This was met by a chorus of “Aww, but mom…” Alayna glared at them, but a smile threatened to overcome her stern ex
pression. The children laughed their voices high and elf-like before racing each other up the ancient wooden staircase. Angelica winced; the unnatural laughter hurt her ears. Smiling, Neil extended an arm and Alayna went to help Gwen and Tori search of extra blankets and pillows.

       Gwen and Tori’s room was the very image of a doll house. The whitewash walls were decorated with painted butterflies, fairies and unicorns. The windows had dainty pink shutters and snowy white curtains. Everything was so…neat. Angelica laughed at the miniature dollhouse with the tiny porcelain dolls arranged in different rooms, each one in a different position. A beautifully painted doll with long black hair and a gentle smile was placed at a table, the exact replicate of the one downstairs. A red-haired doll was in the next room making the bed. The girls were trying their hardest to make Angelica feel at home; she could sense it. However hard they tried, they couldn’t mask the stench of tension in the air, shortening everyone’s tempers. Neil and Alayna knew the risks of taking in yet another recently orphaned child, and with the recent execution, chances were high that the High Minister and the judge may discover them. So far, they had gotten away with adopting the five children, but would a sixth rouse the villagers’ suspicions?

 

       The girl smiled. She was so out of place here compared to the other angelic children. Angelica was different and she knew it. The other children didn’t dream about murder, blood and death. They weren’t haunted by memories of an abusive father, a protective mother. Perhaps it was the way her father treated her, and how he treated her mother when she tried defending Angelica that made her like this. Three years of despair, pain and agony was sure to damage a young girl, especially one as special as Angelica. From a young age, her father suspected she was different than all the other children from the village. Once upon a time, he and her mother were happy together…until that one fateful day when her mother revealed who she was to her husband.

 

       Angelica closed her eyes, the memory of that awful fight vivid in her mind. Her mother had decided it was the right time, to prepare her father for whatever lay in the future. Angelica herself had been only two years, but she remembered every word, every detail clearly. Her mother would have never expected her father to act the way her did: blinded by rage and the sense of betrayal, her had stormed through the house wrecking the dainty china, smashing Angelica’s favourite doll. If that wasn’t enough, he had then pointed his quavering finger at her, screaming that he was no longer her father, that she had no right to call herself ‘Jonathan’s daughter’. For three years after the outbreak, her father had abused both her and her mother, both physically and mentally. It was no wonder that her mother had finally broke down, unleashing a stream of magic into the air where the villagers were sure to notice.

This just keeps getting better and better! :D 

Thanks! :D

For those of use who joined recently and for thoswe who have been stalking and reading this thread, here is Chapter 1, edited and complete:

 

 

Chapter 1

l:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /> 

 

 

              The tiny girl, two months past her fifth year was hidden among the folds of dull skirts. Tears made streaks on her dirty face and her lips trembled as she awaited the judge’s decision. The whole village was there, the neighbours, the friends and the strangers. Her parents stood on the makeshift podium facing the judge, waiting for their guaranteed beheading.

 

       The judge smirked and relished the looks of terrible pain on the couple’s faces. The woman was accused of performing magic, and though her husband was truly innocent, he would die with her. The children had been killed already, save for the youngest; she had disappeared and no officials could find her.

       After what seemed like an eternity, the judge hauled his plump body out of the chair and stood facing the crowd.

 

       “Today, we witness the trial of Marissa and Jonathan Stewart. Witnesses have reported that they have performed magic both inside and outside of their cottage, believing that no one could see them.” The judge paused, gasping for breath. “Their children have also been tainted; therefore, we have killed them. One girl remains. Her name is Angelica Stewart. Capture her dead or alive, and we shall reward you generously.”

 

       The crowd cheered uproariously, and the judge beamed. His gaze swept across the ever-growing crowd, passing over the little girl with her face in her hands. His double chin quivered and he rubbed his sausage hands together.

       “The decision is unanimous; Marissa and Jonathan Stewart are…guilty!”

       The crowd screamed and howled louder than before; slowly, they were ridding their village of tainted blood. The couple on the platform hung their heads, their last hope diminished. They had hoped that the judge, a long time friend of theirs would spare them. Up on the platform, the judge slowly turned back to the couple. With his back on the crowd, he frowned sadly, whispering a few parting words to Marissa and Jonathan: “I’m sorry.”

       The executioner wore a dirty sack over his head, two holes cut for his eyes. He wore gardener’s gloves, stained red from past executions. His step didn’t falter; he showed no emotion or regret. Slowly, he raised the axe. One dull thud, then a woman’s scream cut short. The crowd screaming their approval, and the headless bodies toppled to the blood-stained ground.

 

       Angelica screwed up her eyes when the axe had slit the air, but not fast enough. She saw enough to haunt her for the rest of her life. The terrible smell of blood as it gushed from her father’s headless body, the terror in her mother’s scream, and the bloodthirsty cries of the crowd. Her knees knocked together, turning her legs to jelly. Unable to stand, she fell to the ground. The numerous stones and pebbles pressed against her head uncomfortably, but she didn’t have the strength to pick herself up. Angelica closed her eyes, sinking into a comforting darkness.

 

 

She didn’t know how long she lay there, but was rudely woken by rough hands picking her up. Reluctantly, she opened her tired eyes to glare at whoever had woken her. She found herself staring into a pair of startling grey eyes, so light they were almost silver, edges crinkled in a slight smile. Angelica kicked at her captor, punching his hands with her tiny fists. The man laughed unexpectedly.      

 

 “Don’t fight me, child. I’m not here to hurt you.” His voice was soft and melodious, but it irritated Angelica. Her father had the same laugh.

       When Angelica fought even harder, he frowned in annoyance. “Come, Evelyn. I tire of this disobedience. Your mother and siblings are waiting for you. ”

 

       Angelica let out a cry, her limbs suddenly immobilized. All she could do was whimper pitifully as the man took her away. With a graceful motion, the man swung her up onto his shoulders. Angelica instinctively wrapped her arms around the man’s neck, trying not to fall off.

 

       “Not too tight, little pea,” he laughed. “I do not wish to be choked to death.”

 

       The man had a strange way of speaking. It wasn’t the coarse language the illiterate folks spoke, nor was it the bossy speech of the nobles and lords. The man had a soft, almost medieval way of talking. He walked quickly, gliding over the pathways like a ghost and making no sound whatsoever. Angelica swayed slightly, slipping in and out of consciousness. The day had taken its toll on her; she could barely keep her swollen red eyes open for more than a minute.

 

       Behind closed eyelids, Angelica saw her parents’ deaths in slow motion, the scene replaying over and over again, tormenting her. She heard everything, saw everything and no matter how hard she tried to keep it out, they kept coming back: decapitated bodies stumbling zombie-like towards her, closing in ever so slowly. Blood oozed out of where their heads should have been, arms raised to pull her into her embrace. Angelica let out a shrill scream cut short by a hand flung forward to cover her mouth.

 

       Angelica’s eyes snapped open, darting wildly around looking for the zombies. Instead, the man, a woman, two boys and three girls peered at her anxiously. The woman removed her hand from Angelica’s mouth. The man who had carried her to this cottage exchanged a quick, meaningful look with the woman and she nodded sympathetically.

 

       “Good, you’re awake. You’ll probably never get over this…tragedy, but I want you to try and settle in. I am Cornelius Blackthorn, but everyone calls me Neil. Alayna is my wife, and a witch. The children are not our own, they too have had their parents executed or burned at stake. Fenecros and Brian are the oldest, they’re twins. Gwendolyn and Victoria are five years older than you, and Jessamin is the same age as you.”

 

       Five pairs of eyes peered curiously at Angelica. The twins were tall with thick blonde hair and bright blue eyes, Gwendolyn had brown eyes flecked with gold, chocolate coloured hair and a sharp chin. l:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" />Victoria had auburn hair, brown eyes and a wide mouth. The youngest of the four had wide set eyes, red lips and curly blonde hair. They were all impossibly beautiful, but Angelica couldn’t bring herself to care.

 

       “Angelica, while you’re here, we will have to call you by a different name to prevent people from suspecting. Will Evelyn do?” Blackthorn asked gently. “I will tell the villagers that I found you at an orphanage during my travels. Please stick to the story, but if possible, avoid talking about your past. The children have gotten used to calling Alayna and I ‘Mom and Dad’, but if you’re not comfortable with it, just call us Neil and Alayna.” 

 

       Angelica nodded, tears sliding down her face again. Wiping her eyes with a grimy sleeve, then struggled to sit up.

 

       “It hurts,” she whimpered. “I can see them so clearly. They’re coming to get me, like they got my mommy and daddy. All bloody, all torn up. Make it stop! Please make them stop coming!”

 

       Gwendolyn flopped down beside Angelica and put an arm around her. “Don’t worry, sis. It was like that for all of us too. It will get better soon, I know it will. Keep holding on, and never let go. If you let go of yourself, you’ll get lost and there’s no return from where you’ll go. Not even a witch will be able to bring you back. Not even Mom and she’s amazing at that kind of stuff.”

 

       Victoria grinned. “Mom’s teaching me and Gwen how to cook with magic. You should’ve seen what Gwen made!”

 

Angelica smiled slightly, her eyes a little glazed. In her mind, the judge and all the villagers were dying a slow, painful death. The screams of the dying her music to her ears, bright red blood splattered running down the streets like a river, gore bobbing to the surface. Angelica frowned as Neil’s voice pierced her bloody daydreams.

 

 “Angelica, you will be sharing a room with Gwen and Tori if that’s okay with you. We have a spare bed in the cellar that we can bring up for you. I’m sure Gwen and Tori can find some extra blankets and pillows.”

 

       Angelica gasped with delighted as she saw a golden leaf float past the window. In the crisp autumn wind, multi-coloured leaves drifted from the trees to form an eye-catching dappled carpet. The rustle of dry leaves on the stone paths reminded Angelica of the lazy days she spent keeping herself warm by the fire when it was raining outside. Tears prickled the insides of Angelica’s eyes and she blinked quickly to keep them from sliding down her cheeks.

 

       “Why…why are the leaves all yellow and red? Are they sick?” she asked.

 

       Jessamin stared at her openly, not minding the annoyed looks Neil was shooting at her. “Sick? Leaves don’t get sick! It’s fall, all the trees turn like this. Didn’t you know?”

 

       “No I didn’t. Mother and Father didn’t let me out of the house; they were scared someone would find out about them. I wasn’t allowed near the windows either. Even if it was cold outside, I wasn’t allowed to light a fire if Mother and Father weren’t home. I’ve only gone out of the house once, and that was today. I was too worried to notice the trees.” Angelica frowned angrily. She didn’t like Saria.

      

Alayna scolded Jessamin. “Child that is not how we treat our guests, you should know that! Off to bed, Saria. We have a busy day tomorrow. The gardens need tending, leaves need to be raked and the crops need harvesting. Gwen, Tori, Fenecros and Brian, you get some sleep too.”

 

       This was met by a chorus of “Aww, but mom…” Alayna glared at them, but a smile threatened to overcome her stern ex
pression. The children laughed their voices high and elf-like before racing each other up the ancient wooden staircase. Angelica winced; the unnatural laughter hurt her ears. Smiling, Neil extended an arm and Alayna went to help Gwen and Tori search of extra blankets and pillows.

 

       Gwen and Tori’s room was the very image of a doll house. The whitewash walls were decorated with painted butterflies, fairies and unicorns. The windows had dainty pink shutters and snowy white curtains. Everything was so…neat. Angelica laughed at the miniature dollhouse with the tiny porcelain dolls arranged in different rooms, each one in a different position. A beautifully painted doll with long black hair and a gentle smile was placed at a table, the exact replicate of the one downstairs. A red-haired doll was in the next room making the bed. The girls were trying their hardest to make Angelica feel at home; she could sense it. However hard they tried, they couldn’t mask the stench of tension in the air, shortening everyone’s tempers. Neil and Alayna knew the risks of taking in yet another recently orphaned child, and with the recent execution, chances were high that the High Minister and the judge may discover them. So far, they had gotten away with adopting the five children, but would a sixth rouse the villagers’ suspicions?

 

       The girl smiled. She was so out of place here compared to the other angelic children. Angelica was different and she knew it. The other children didn’t dream about murder, blood and death. They weren’t haunted by memories of an abusive father, a protective mother. Perhaps it was the way her father treated her, and how he treated her mother when she tried defending Angelica that made her like this. Three years of despair, pain and agony was sure to damage a young girl, especially one as special as Angelica. From a young age, her father suspected she was different than all the other children from the village. Once upon a time, he and her mother were happy together…until that one fateful day when her mother revealed who she was to her husband.

 

       Angelica closed her eyes, the memory of that awful fight vivid in her mind. Her mother had decided it was the right time, to prepare her father for whatever lay in the future. Angelica herself had been only two years, but she remembered every word, every detail clearly. Her mother would have never expected her father to act the way her did: blinded by rage and the sense of betrayal, her had stormed through the house wrecking the dainty china, smashing Angelica’s favourite doll. If that wasn’t enough, he had then pointed his quavering finger at her, screaming that he was no longer her father, that she had no right to call herself ‘Jonathan’s daughter’. For three years after the outbreak, her father had abused both her and her mother, both physically and mentally. It was no wonder that her mother had finally broke down, unleashing a stream of magic into the air where the villagers were sure to notice.

 

       Angelica’s mother had secured the fates of her, her husband and their children. Angelica smiled to herself. It was quick thinking and sheer luck that had saved her. Of course, she had cried when her mother and father were beheaded. Angelica was able to have missed seeing the execution of her siblings, but she couldn’t live with the fact that she hadn’t been there to see her parents’ final moments. No matter how much she detested her father, the sight of him completely helpless made tears well in her eyes. It wasn’t as if he had ever truly loved her, like he loved his other children, the ones that weren’t tainted with magic. No, she had been an outcast in her own home. It was her mother that she cried long and hard for. Angelica had to admit that she would miss her dear mother who had tried her very best to protect her youngest daughter, in the end giving up her own life as well as her children’s.

 

       Her train of memories was broken by the pounding of five pairs of feet. Tori and Gwen burst into the room, out of breathe and laughing while behind them, Brian and Fenecros tumbled heads over heels into the adjacent room. Baby Jessamin trotted after them, a silly grin plastered onto her face. Angelica chided herself. Jessamin was the same age as her, although she herself was much more mature. It was awfully hard not to refer Jessamin as ‘baby’, but Angelica promised herself to try her hardest. She would have to adjust to this new life, whether she liked it or not.

 

       As Angelica climbed under the soft covers, she knew her dreams would be about blood and gore once again. The quilts scratched against her chin and the pillow was much too soft, but they were the only ones the family could afford to buy. Any fancier and they would be an insult to the high-born people of the town. No, Neil and Alayna’s family were part of Undertown, where all the poorer folks lived. Given their status, officially they could move up to Middle, but they preferred it here. Neil didn’t like living with a large amount of gold, preferring to live off of what the land provided. The soft snoring of Gwen and Tori soon lulled Angelica to sleep. Everything would be better in the morning; it always was.

 

 

 

 

Thank you for reading! Chapter 2 will be started asap 

 

 

Chapter 2

l:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /> 

 

 

        Winter. It was such a strange, yet beautiful word. Angelica loved the way it rolled off her tongue, how fitting it was to what the world turned into at that time of year. Winter, she decided, was quite possibly her favourite season of them all. When the first flakes drifted from the heavens, all of Angelica’s sorrows were washed away for a few precious moments. The other children had burst outside, busying themselves in building towering snowmen and snow forts. Angelica was content with lying on the ground, underneath her, the cold seeping through her thick winter cloak.

Secretly, when she was sure that Neil and Alayna were fast asleep, she would sneak outside with only her nightgown on and watch the flakes drift.

     

  Suspicions often arouse the next day when Alayna woke to find Angelica soaked to the bone. Any attempt to stop Angelica ended in failures and eventually, Alayna agreed to Angelica’s desires. During her l:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" />midnight escapades, Angelica could forget about her past and pretend that she was normal. She loved the feeling of the crisp air on her bare skin, the light taste of snowflakes and fluffy snowdrifts reaching up to her knees.

 

       In the matter of days, the gentle snowflakes turned into a raging snowstorm and the temperature dropped drastically. Any standing water hardened into ice, and the constant pounding of snow made it impossible to move around. Icicles formed overnight, longer than Angelica’s arm and when the first rays of dawn peeped over the horizon, the icicles shone with brilliant hues of orange, red and pink.

       Lessons were cancelled in December, and Neil spent the majority of the days hunting for a suitable Christmas tree. As this would be Angelica’s first Christmas, Alayna and Neil made sure it would be an occasion Angelica would never forget.

       “Here’s to all the Christmases we’ll spend as a family!” Neil laughed, holding up a cup of steaming coffee.

 

       As everyone knows, fate is not always what it seemed. Two days before Christmas, an unknown virus struck the very heart of the Blackthorn family. Alayna fell sick, unable to move without throwing up blood and soon after, Jessamin succumbed to the virus as well. With two of the family down, Neil and the children were careful to wash their hands before every meal and Tori made sure to sanitize everything. The gagging stench of Tori’s magic-made sanitizer whittled down Angelica’s patience. She went to bed with a pounding headache and woke up with a pounding headache.

 

 

       After a heated argument with Gwen, Angelica fled the house. The cold air seared her lungs, but Angelica could care less. In her haste, she had neglected to bring a cloak and within mere seconds, the snow had covered and melted on her thin dress. She found herself longing for the warmth of an open fire but was determined not to turn back. She simply couldn’t stand Tori! Such a know-it-all and Tori insisted on using magic even though more then half her spells ended horribly.

       A quick scan of the area confirmed that no one was close enough to Angelica to see her use magic. A couple muttered words and an invisible fire warmed her from the top of her head to her toes. At once, Angelica’s felt her energy deplete and could just barely stay standing.

 

       “Evelyn”

 

       Angelica snapped to attention, looking around wildly. Evelyn was the name Neil, Alayna and the children used when they were out in public. No one seemed to be in sight, but Angelica was sure that she had heard someone speak her name.

 

       “Evelyn!”

 

       There it was again. Angelica could hear her heart pounding wildly, threatening to burst from her breast. In the corner of her eye, she saw a dark shape leaning casually against a near-by building. Neil? No. This person was too…relaxed to be Neil. Neil’s posture was always stiff and rigid. As if moving in a dream, Angelica found her feet moving towards the person…or thing. It certainly didn’t seem like a human.

       The shape looked as if it were offering Angelica a hand, and without her willing it, Angelica found her arm moving as if it had a mind of its own. Her throat constricted; something was very, very wrong. Without warning, the figure let out a harsh laugh and Angelica screamed. In a split second, a shift in the lighting had revealed the thing’s face. It had two dark sockets, empty where the eyes should have been and a mouth full of sharp yellow teeth.

 

       Time started again, and Angelica broke through whatever magic the thing was working on her. She screamed a loud high-pitched scream that was foreign to her ears. Blood rushing in her ears, she turned abruptly and ran, her dress fluttering around her ankles. The thing moved without a sound, flowing like water over a greased surface. It didn’t walk; it glided.

 

       “Angelica! Angelica, if you can hear me, run as fast as you can towards my voice!”

 

       Angelica didn’t stop to think. It sounded like Neil. She took a chance and urged her legs to go faster. Her dress poofed around her and she stumbled on a patch of ice. Shrieking, she slid forward on her knees, grazing them. Gulping down tears, she shoved herself upwards and took off running again. Angelica could see Neil running towards her now, pointing a long branch at the thing chasing her.

 

       Whatever the branch was, it scared the thing. Angelica watched as it prowled around her and Neil, looking for a way to get them. Neil was by her side now and Angelica saw that what she had deemed a branch was actually a long dagger, its hilt black with silver designs carved into it. Neil gestured with his other hand, forming what looked like a claw over his heart and flicking out his wrist. The thing howled and fled, leaving a trail of dark dust soon carried away by the raging storm.

       Angelica dared to look Neil in the eyes. Surprisingly, he didn’t look angry, just sad. He stood there, gazing at her with those sad eyes and Angelica felt a lump form in her throat.

 

       “I’m…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that,” she cried, hanging her head in shame. “What was that thing?”

 

      “That was a wraith, Angelica. You’re very lucky to have escaped from it. Most people are…slightly harmed after meeting a wraith. If you’re not lucky, a wraith can essentially take over your soul. Folklore says that they’re undead sorceresses and sorcerers, but us witches and wizards know that’s not true,” Neil frowned. “What were you doing, running off like that? I know the smell of that sanitizer is harsh to your nose, but what can you expect from Tori? She’s only a minor witch!”

 

 “I guess…I guess I was expecting more,” Angelica murmured. Inexperience was not a good enough excuse. What would happen when, and if Tori happened to get involved in a Wizard’s Duel? Tori would be killed in a second. As Neil lead her back home, Angelica thought she heard a lone voice singing. Looking up at Neil, she saw a muscle twitch in his jaw. So she wasn’t the only one to have heard the voice.

 

       “What was that? It was so beautiful; it brings back all my memories of my…mother,” Angelica whispered. Before her father found out about magic, her mother used to sing like a nightingale. But no bird can sing with a broken heart, and soon after, Angelica’s mother’s voice turned harsh, like the cawing of a crow.

 

       “Sirens,” Neil said without any ex
pression. “Land Sirens, that is. They come out during blizzards and lure men, women and children alike to their deaths. Promise me Angelica that you’ll never, ever fall prey to a Land Siren’s voice. They are terrible creatures; they relish the looks on their prey’s face as they allow the poor victim to catch a glimpse of their true form before the Sirens murder them.

 

       “Even worse, Land Sirens can walk on land, unlike their cousins, the ones that like in bodies of water. The Land Sirens disguise themselves in cloaks made of mist and clouds, hiding what they really look like. I personally have never seen a Siren in her true form, and I hope I never will.”

this is fantastic... keep writing.

Thanks :D I've been editing and re-editing chapters so I'll post the finished ones up