"untitled (prologue)" by Maleah Schmitke

The woods were silent save for the odd bird call, though it seemed that even they were aware that not all was as it should be as a form, tall and well built and yet not heavy set made his way from shadow to shadow, listening. He crouched in the shade of a column tree. Oldest of the old trees, the column trees were believed to be as old as time itself, some said older. Its base was so wide it took fifteen men if not more to circle it while holding hands. It stretched toward the sky like one of the towers said to belong to an ancient, forgotten and probably long dead race that dwelt in the woods far to the south. He knew he was close to a ‘deer trail’ and knew that various creatures used it often. He had only to wait until his quarry passed by, until then he enjoyed the calm and cool of the woods.

It wasn’t until he began to doze off that movement roused him. He pulled the string of his bow taut and watched the tawny form pause. Through the trees he couldn’t be certain if it were deer, bear, woods cat or one of the more illusive woods creatures he killed only on occasion. It seemed to crouch a moment in the shadows and at that moment he took aim and loosed the arrow. A few seconds passed before an inhuman, almost unearthly scream shattered the calm. His blood ran cold at the sound. No animal he’d hunted before made that sound. A rustling behind him indicated the emergence of his wife and partner in the hunt.

“Gaelin,” her voice was a hissing whisper, “what was that? What did you hit?”

“I know not, but I killed it, or damn near did. Let us go see what unearthly hell beast I shot.” The two of them made their way cautiously through the tangled undergrowth to the deer trail. They had not expected to find what they did. Lying sprawled on the ground shot dead with an arrow through her heart was a young woman of a race they’d never seen. She appeared mostly human but with features of both lion and eagle. From beneath her cloak could be seen her tufted tail and visible through her fawn coloured hair they could see her ears, both pointed and tufted. Her wings, surely magnificent in life, were now crumpled under her fallen body. She was still beautiful, dead though she was, the sun through the trees creating a golden cast to her warm coloured skin.

“What is she?”

“I couldn’t say, Sarina, perhaps a demon, perhaps the changeling of some dark sorcerer, who could say. Never before have I beheld a creature such as this. We should burry her and return to the town. We’ll make no more kills today.” It was then that a soft mewling caused them to pause. Something that until that very moment had been hidden by the dead woman’s cloak, and still clutched in her arms, was a small child, barely more than a babe. The child was probably no more than one and a half winters. Sarina knelt down to get a closer look at the orphaned child. Black curls covered its, no her, Sarina thought, her head and fell in her large frightened forest green eyes. She still clung to her dead guardian, though Sarina couldn’t say whether this woman was her mother or not, though mother was her first assumption. She pulled the cloak away from the little one and lifted her from the dead woman’s grasp.

“What will we do with her, Gaelin?”

“What can we do with a child. Certainly we can’t leave her out here for the wild beasts.”

“Take her home then?”

“For now, Sarina, until we can think of something better. A child like this? Perhaps a demon child for all we know, we cannot be expected to be responsible for her for the rest of our lives. It would be best that we find her another home, but we will keep her until then.”

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Years later in another part of the world

It remained warm even after the sun had long set, but there was a feeling of relief as most of the heat dissipated for the night. A bright fire burned in the centre of what could almost be a village…a village of tents perhaps, but still large enough to seem a village. Tall torches thrust into the ground lit the broad paths…or perhaps they could be called lanes…between the tents. Most of those who dwelled in the tents were out by the fire eating their evening meals and enjoying themselves, but not all were to be found there. In one of the tents farthest from the fire a woman, perhaps in her mid twenties, perhaps older, it was impossible to tell, sat on the floor, legs folded under her. Her long hair, a rich brown, nearly black, was left to flow freely down her back, her eyes closed as if in meditation. Candles cast shadows on the tent walls and the scent of herbs wafted through the air, not chokingly strong, but noticeable. She sat as still as a statue, not even stirring when the covering of the entrance was lifted so that another woman could enter. She remained this way a while longer, not stirring in the slightest even to acknowledge the intruder. Finally she opened her dark blue eyes and looked up at her visitor, not appearing the least bit surprised to see that she had company.

“Anything?” the other woman asked in a liquid voice as she turned away and pulled the hood of her cloak back from her tawny locks.

“No, nothing. If she hears me she hasn’t the ability to answer.” The tawny haired woman, as ageless as her counterpart cast a quick glance at the brunette with forest green eyes and then turned to face her.

“Are you sure she is alive?” the dark haired one then asked, “she should have come into her abilities by now.”

“She is still alive Iolana.”

“But how do you know? How can you be so very certain?”

“You will understand when you have young ones of your own, Iolana.” Iolana swept strands of her dark hair back over her shoulder and a frown touched her lips.

“If what you say is true, I cannot reach her and since I haven’t seen her since she was a child I cannot scry her out.”

“You will not give up.”

“Of course not…” Iolana stood and settled her own cloak more comfortably on her shoulders, “When have I ever given up anything of importance, let alone anything of importance you have asked of me?”

“You have never disappointed me.”

“No, I have not, but there must be another way…perhaps if I went in search of her myself…” The tawny-haired woman looked thoughtful.

“It may not be safe. We have not walked among city humans for many long years.”

“All the more reason to find Nalani and bring her home.” Tawny-hair nodded her head.

“Perhaps you are right, my daughter, but we will discuss it later. First, you must eat something. The two, Iolana and the tawny-haired woman, Iolana’s mother, left the tent and headed down the torch-lit paths to the great fire to get themselves some dinner.

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She woke with a start to the scent of morning just beginning to twinge the air. Slowly she raised herself until supported by an elbow. She let her eyes drift about her still dark room as if searching for something…or someone…nothing, no ghostly presences, no shadows out of place. A long tail ending in a black tuft twitched slightly as it snaked from beneath the bed covers to nearly touch the floor. Elektra sat up slowly and ran her hands through her hair, black as black and flowing down her back to her waist in thick waves when she stood to her full height. She had been having this dream (was it a dream?) for a long while now. She heard a soft warm voice, low and musical, calling, but to her? She couldn’t say. The name the voice spoke was not the one she had known her whole life and yet it seemed so familiar, the voice as well, warm, soft, it reminded her of a spring breeze, if that was any comparison. She longed to know who it belonged to, but in her dream all she saw was shadows and mist, no clear forms. She chewed on her lower lip as she considered this. Finally she climbed from her bed and began to get ready for another day. It would be busy and she had much to do before she escaped this place forever.