Gathea CH2

”Slowly he moved closer, his arms gently wrapping around my waist, his eyes never leaving my own.  All thoughts of my future and past escaped me, all that existed was in this moment, all which mattered in life lay hidden in the dark brown depths of his gaze.

‘Do you love me?’  He whispered, his warm breath tickling my ear and sending new sensations down my spine.

I was not meant for him, and he was not what was destined for me, but the soothing sound of his voice seemed to melt away all differences. 

‘Yes’ I replied, knowing that this simple word would doom me.”

         Gently I closed the faded pages and sighed.  Usually novels were my means of escape, I would let myself get lost with fictional characters in imaginary worlds, absorbed with their problems and forgetting my own.  Not tonight though.  No, not even Aleena and Ean’s tale of impossible romance could distract me from today’s events.

         I returned my favorite book back to its place amongst my other scarce possessions and sat huddled up in my blankets with my chin resting on my knees.  Once more my eyes felt as if they were about to water but the tears wouldn’t come.  I hugged my bed sheets closer and stared blankly out into the darkness.

         I had sat in that tree for hours this afternoon, watching the sparrows that perched not far from my branch, in no hurry to meet what waited for me at home.  When the sun sank below the mountains in the distance and the air took on a new chill, I slowly eased myself down from my roost, and trudged back to my little cottage while trying to wipe the evidence of my tears away with the back of my sleeve.  Nearing home I could see Papa waiting out in the front yard.  His face stern and resigned, all traces of this evenings delight gone from his features.

         I kept my eyes focused on the ground rather than chance meeting his, pretending to be deeply interested in the whereabouts of my feet.  Watched them sluggishly move through the tall grass, on to the stone path, and right on into the dusty floors, passing a pair of worn brown boots and not even bothering to look up at the owner.  Although it was childish of me, I wanted to prolong facing him for as long as possible.  Once safely through the doorway I quickly found my way into the refuge of my mothers arms, burying my face in the warmth of her shoulder. 

         Father came into the room walking slowly, taking each step with meaning.  Not a good sign for me.  He took a seat near the table in on of our makeshift chairs, cradling his head in his hands and staring at the table as if the patterns of worn wood grains might hold his answers.

“Why…Castlyn…”

After a moment of uneasy silence he had stood up and faced me.  “You’re going to write him a letter, a full apology for your behavior today and an acceptance of his offer.”

         I had pleaded, but the man wouldn’t budge.  He stood silently behind me watching carefully over my shoulder as I composed his message. 

         I was stunned.  How could he have done this to me?  Why couldn’t my life be like the novels I so loved? Why couldn’t it at least have been normal?

         As a child I never had many friends, not sure why.  On occasion I would try joining in with others near my age but it seems as if I would remain the awkward outcast.  It used to trouble me but it hadn’t done so in years.  As my mother would always say, “Some are meant for social and some are meant for solitude, but to each their own delight.” 

         I did have one close friend though.  Well, that is if you could count a fifty some year old neighbor who merely tolerated my presence as a friend.

         Gregor owned the land next to ours and lived there by himself for as long as I can remember.  He was an odd old man and could be a complete grouch at times, but he had a room that was entirely filled with stacks and stacks of tattered and faded books.  He had made the mistake of teaching me how to read and he hasn’t been able to keep me off his property since.  He lets me borrow any book I want as long as I return it undamaged. 

His collection was comparable to nothing else.  I knew of a few other people around town who had one or two books lying around their place, Jonathan had a full bookshelf, but no one else had anything like Gregor’s teetering stacks.  He had books on plant life and animals, on illnesses and remedies, common tales I’ve heard before and new stories in lavish scripts and piles stacked to the ceiling of novels written in exotic languages.  After chores were done I would run to his house and spend hours lost in the dusty pages. 

         Occasionally on my visits he would fix a strange tea that tasted like heaven and his eyes would light up as he told me wild make believe tales of a far off land.  His stories were of a place beyond the mountains where good fought evil and of an ancient people who stood for all things pure in life.  He was a crazy old coot, but a better man I couldn’t imagine. 

I used to spend my nights dreaming about such a place.  Surely there I wouldn’t be handed off to some boring old suitor in exchange for riches.  No, not at all.  There I would fight bravely against the corrupt, find my true love, and all would be perfect.  I remember telling Gregor of those dreams and how he would smile kindly telling me that the future held endless possibilities.  He would say that he never doubted something special would come of my life, adding in the wink of an old wrinkly eye, and how badly I wanted those words to be true…but that was ages ago. 

         As badly as I wanted it to be my life was not a fairy tale, but that didn’t mean I was going to accept my unhappy fate without a fight. 
         I had mulled it over in my head for a while now.  I would not marry Jonathan.  I would not be stared at and showcased, bound to his manor like a slave.  I would not be added to his collection of prized possessions, another symbol of his wealth and power.  I may never have a happily ever after but I sure wasn’t going to forfeit my chances this early in life.  No, instead I was going to do something rash and incredibly foolish. A smile broke from my lips, I was going to do something that I knew I would most likely regret sooner or later but at the moment I didn’t care.  In my mind the decision was already made.

I was going to run away.

Without a sound I slid from the comfort of my bed and began to gather my belongings.  I found another burlap sack and stuffed it full of clothes and undergarments and surveyed my surroundings for other items I would need.  I picked up the faded cover of Aleena and Ean’s tale and stowed it along with the rest of the items, hoping Gregor would forgive me for never returning one of his precious books.  I grabbed a few other necessities, a sturdy pair of boots, a comb to keep the annoying tangles out of my hair, my mother’s necklace she had given me two years ago.

         I lifted my full pack happily feeling its weight on my shoulder, heavy, but bearable, then sat down and sighed at my stupidity.  If I was going to go traipsing through the forest I was going to need some nourishment.

I pulled out most of the clothing I had bunched together at the bottom of the sack, tossing it about my room; there was no need to carry around my pathetic wardrobe.  If I needed clean clothes I could always find a stream or river to do washing.  I left one plain and comfortable dress waded up in the pile and pulled on a loose woven top and my trousers I had sewn myself last summer.  Father had absolutely forbidden me from wearing them in public claiming they were not lady like but his preferences didn’t really matter now.  They were easy to move in and I liked them.

         I made my way stealthily to the kitchen area, keeping close attention to the snores coming from where my parents slept.  The sound of uninterrupted deep and heavy breathing made its way to my ears.  So far so good. 

         Two loaves of bread, a pile of carrots, and all but two of the apples soon accompanied my stash.  I eyed the dried and salted meats wearily.  I wasn’t a fan of pork, or any meat for that manner, but I would need the energy so I grabbed a small portion.

         Out the door and into the cool night air, I turned around and said a silent fairwell to Mother and Papa; I hoped they would somehow understand. I promised I would be back as soon as I figured out what to do with myself, and I would help them in anyway that I could.  Well, any way that didn’t involve being married off against my will of course.  The moment I turned my back it felt like a new beginning.

         I traveled on the only road though town, moving south.  My plan was to make it down to the port of Sherland, which I figured would take me about five days on foot.  From there I could find my way onto a ship to take me back to the home country. 
Gathaea was a relatively new settlement, one of the many colonies established from the old homeland.  None of the towns had been around for more than three or four generations, and no one had yet ventured east of the mountains. Maybe there would be more opportunities for me in the more populated country we all came from.  Maybe there I would find work and better yet maybe I would find love.  My mind swam with all the new possibilities.

         I walked at a lazy pace; thoroughly enjoying my new found freedom.  No more ties, out here on the road I could be whoever I wanted to be.  Perhaps a lost young maiden, or maybe a traveling bard, maybe even a street thief.  I laughed out loud at the thought of myself ever trying to steal anything from anyone, not even a house cat would be afraid of my frail form.

         Just then amid my laughter I heard the sound of a horse coming up the path behind me.  I was already a fair distance from town although it felt as if I had just walked out the door.  Could they be looking for me already? 

         I left the road and ran deep into the trees crouching behind a growth of shrubs for cover.  The sound of hooves beating against the dirt came and went without pause, but I stayed put for a while longer to be sure of my secrecy.

         After a moment had passed I felt a sharp stinging sensation on my hands and arms.  Great.  The plant I was hiding in was covered in thorns.  Wiping off the red droplets on the bottom of my trousers I noticed the sound of running water not far from where I sat.  I had better wash the cuts and fill up my water skins while I was at it.

         The stream wasn’t hard to find and the water running was ice cold and pure.  I crouched on the soft soil of the bank, soaking my arms past my elbows and let it sooth away the stinging.  After I drank my fill of the sweet taste of the mountain brook I sat for a while on a moss covered rock by the edge of the water, letting my fingers trail around in the cool and even flow.

         Before long it was time to head out again, if I wanted to get to port before I ran out of food then I figured I had better get a move on.  Getting up and drying off my hands I suddenly gasped and sat right back down again.    The darkness made it difficult to see much more than ten feet in front of me and in my carelessness I had completely forgotten which way I had come from.

         A stupid and idiotic move, what a grand start to my first adventure.

         Trying not to panic I started weighing my options.  I wasn’t completely helpless; I could figure this out, right?  Running helplessly through the forest in the dark wouldn’t fix anything.

Something felt different, colder, a moist nasty feeling. Ughhh. I was sitting on a different rock than before I had realized my little directional problem.  This one was wet.  Disgusting, though soggy trousers should be the least of my worries.
Thinking quickly I realized if I stayed here I was still close enough to the road that I could be easily discovered if they were looking for me.  Can’t let that happen.

What to do?  I was near a stream; streams always flow to the ocean, which is where I wanted to go.  If I followed the stream it would most likely lead me in the direction I was headed anyways and there was a good chance it would come close to the road again for travelers to fill their water skins.  I could handle this.

         Shaking off my nerves I set out again walking on the stones on the edge of the water.  It was slower going.  I had to be careful not to twist an ankle on the slippery surface, but all things considered I wasn’t that bad off, besides the sogginess.           
         
Morning came and the sun rose over the snow topped eastern mountains without any more excitement.  I picked a spot, checking to make sure it was dry this time, and rested in the shade while munching on an apple and some bread.  Scarlett and brown birds chirped in the leaves, singing the joyous song of the wild and free. A cool breeze ruffled my hair, a perfect start to the first day of my new life.

         Freedom, just me and the occasional bird or rabbit wandering my way south on the stream bank.  I could walk when I want and rest when I felt like it.  Continuing on my lazy saunter I eventually felt the morning’s miles starting to wear away at my feet.  I squinted from the bright sun that shined its way through the thin canopy and I could just make out a large willow beckoning with its flimsy branches, the dry grass around it an inviting place to stay the night.  I curled up under its long flowing arms and dug through my pack for Gregor’s book. 

That night I fell asleep reading the tale of an immortals love for a human in the twilight of the forest.

         My sleep was uneasy.

The first dream was a rather common nightmare, I must have had it or a dream similar to it dozens of times before.
I dreamed I was fleeing though the dark of night.  Like always I didn’t have any memories of an encounter or any knowledge at all at of what it was that I was running from.  Reason doesn’t hold much of a place in dream land, and even though the details were missing I still felt like I had to run for my life. My heart was pounding and the trees seemed to fly past me, but no matter how fast I went the danger always seemed right behind.
 
Then the dream changed. Shifted into nothing I had ever experienced before.  The colors grew vivid, the scents and the sounds overwhelming, the forest felt alive with a hectic energy in of itself.  It all seemed so…so..real.

Instead of running away I was running towards something in the woods…no, not to something, someone.  As I came closer I saw him. There in the shadow of the largest tree I had ever seen stood a man waiting.  His build was tall and slender, though most of the details were clouded by the darkness.  His back was rigid and perfectly still like a statue or a moment frozen in time.  He turned around to face me, his features striking, but it was his eyes that kept my full attention. They were a piercing yellow with pupils like that of cats and held a gaze both intense and impossible to read.  He smiled a brilliant grin, and when his eyes met mine and a mixture of terror and another emotion I couldn’t name consumed me. 

         I woke with a start and sat straight up in the grass, my heart still beating rapidly.  I stared into my surroundings and for one split second I swear I saw a pair of yellow eyes staring back at me.  I blinked and they were gone.  I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and moved around trying to get comfortable, my back now sore from falling asleep against the tree roots.  Before long sleep took me but I tossed and turned for the rest of the night.