Year of the Ghost

I stole a glance at my angelically blond haired friend who was weaving her hair into a tightly done braid and absentmindedly ran my hand through my coal black hair and sighed. My hair could never be like hers. Her hair looked so soft, so light, where as my hair hung around my shoulders and face almost like a shroud. Atha had such beautiful hair, golden hued it fell gently around her shoulders ending around the small of her back. Almost like she could tell what I was thinking she laughed, her voice breaking the stillness of our small hut. Her voice twinkled like tiny bells as she said,

“Your hair is just as beautiful as mine Shianna.” She said smiling when I made a face at her.

“ I mean it, all you have to do is wash it more, and do something with it to get it off your back when you’re fighting.” I looked over at her to see her smiling, as if she believed what she was saying. Atha tossed a small packet to me and looking at her quizzically I caught it, looking it over, putting it in my breech’s pocket shrugging. It looked like the stuff I had watched her use.

“Doesn’t matter what I do with my hair, no one wants an Elf.” I said half to my sword, half to her. I picked up the soft hide I was using to polish my sword and I heard her sigh, she knew I hated being an elf, she knew that I did hear what the others said as we walked happily down the village path after hunting. Ever since I had been born, Atha’s parents had received strange looks. Humans never associate with elves, and it was deemed worst to be around, or take care of elf cast outs. To some of the people in the village, it did not matter that I could fight better then any man in the village it made it worst. It did not matter that I could hunt and feed any family here, no, all that mattered was my ears. The delicately pointed ears that could hear better then any other person. Yet, they were the curse that nearly killed me once before, and the reason I vowed not to let anyone hurt me again. I would control my own life. No matter what happened.

“Father wanted to be an Elf.” Atha said quietly looking down at her own staff. The words hit me like poisoned arrows; I still couldn’t handle thinking about him. Atha never spoke about it, and neither did Sheanda, Atha’s mother. So I stayed silent, it helped, it was almost like it never happened.

“Yes and see what happened because of it?” I said harshly, watching her soft body absorb the jaded hit. I turned around to leave, taking my sword and its scabbard Atha made for me years ago with me, roughly putting the scabbard into my belt and grumbling as I passed the Villagers.

I walked down the village path towards the meadow and stream I knew would soothe my troubled mind. It was a habit, a place I went to cool off and think to rid myself of all the ugly things the humans had said to me, or done. The meadow was encased in a circle of pine trees, their sweet scent perfuming the area. It calmed me; it was a place I could be myself, be the lithe, graceful Elf I was born, and not the clumsy, obnoxious human everyone wished I could be. Something about nature did that, and when I felt the water great me like an old friend, it made any day a good day. I took off my belt, its sliver buckle sparkling and clinking softly, during the long walk it had grown dark. The meadow and stream was far away from Tristam, my peaceful little village. So far in fact, that it was possible for me to camp out tonight and not have to go home. I put my belt down and laid the sword in its scabbard onto it. I looked around, soaking up the good feeling coming from the trees my spirits lifting as I breathed in the deep pine scent smiling. I giggled slightly, hearing it bounce off the trees I felt whole, as much as I didn’t like being an elf, that was gone the second I left the walls of Tristam. It was like my feelings of being trapped on the outside were because of the people those walls protected.

Humans trying to escape the Elves they were fighting started Tristam years and years ago. It was a place of refuge, and the walls were built after the first raid made by the elves, a raid that proved to be the only one. Tristam was forgotten about after that, and when the war ended Tristam never even found out until a group of Elves tried to spend the night in the safety of the walls. Beasts still roamed during the night, and this was a peaceful band of healers, only wanting shelter for the night. Tristam, still thinking the war was raging ended up “defending” themselves, killing all but a female elf that was heavy with child. During the time the Villagers were slaughtering her friends she had hid, unable to fight, and was found by Tubla when he was looking for anything of value. He took her home to his wife, Sheanda, who herself was also heavy with child, and the couple helped the poor elfin girl, nursing her wounds and making sure she was taken care of. A month later the girl died while giving birth, and I came into the picture. Atha’s mother and father promised their friend that they would take care of her daughter, a promise she begged of them as she lay dying. It was a promise they kept, trying to hide the fact that the baby was an elf until she was able to fight back anything the other Villagers might do. Atha herself was born two months later.

My Mother told Atha’s parents that the war had ended when the Human Lord’s Daughter had eloped with the Elfin Lady’s Son, joining the two kingdoms. After that the Lord and Lady had agreed out of love for their children that the war would end. Tubla left Tristam when I was five to find out any news, and he heard that the Prince had died protecting his bride, yet the Princess was still kidnapped after the band of killers and murders killed him and she was never found. When Tubla returned it brought little sadness to Tristam to hear the news, each had already made up there minds, that Princess had killed the Prince and ran away with her elfin brethren. When the Villagers asked Tubla if the war was started again he said no, the Lord and Lady had formed a bond so tight that it would not be broken, or that’s what he said he heard. He said that there were rumors about the Prince and Princess’s baby being sent away, but he added he didn’t believe it that either.

I shook myself out of my train of thought involving the past and thought about my present. Taking off my tunic and folding it I put it next to my sword and scabbard, the now full moon reflecting off my soft white skin. My Skin was something else the people of the village, at least the women, hated. While there’s would be dark and tan from working out in the sun mine would stay the same near lily-white tone. I worked harder then them, working so that Sheanda didn’t have to and yet my skin never darkened. It never bronzed like there’s, and it never burned like there’s were prone to. I took off the tight wrapping I used to stop my breasts from swinging around when I trained or worked and sighed happily. I stretched my body; my back arching and then bent down to take off my shoes. I wiggled my toes as I took off my shoes, smiling as they felt the cool air washing over them. If Atha didn’t insist I wore them, I would never put shoes on again. If Atha didn’t insist I wore the wrapping I don’t know if I wouldn’t wear that either; I would just use armor. It was simpler, but they would never let me help defend the Village if it ever needed protection, something that would never happen. Tristam was too out of the way, to forgotten for anyone to care. I took off the breeches I wore, a pair of Tubla’s old breeches taken in to fit me and then slipped into the inviting water, sighing happily as I did so. I ducked my head under the water and sat under for a while, until I couldn’t breathe then got up, taking a deep breath of fresh night air. Picking up a handful of sand I scrubbed my hair down with it, rubbing it harshly before dunking myself again and then lazily swimming over to the edge of the streambed where my stuff was. Getting out of the water I went into my breech pocket and took out a package of paste Atha had given me and reflecting upon how her hair looked I went back into the center of the stream and rubbed it into my hair. After the water started to loose its pleasant feeling I went to the creek bed again and got out, scooping up my clothes and taking a different package of paste from the other pocket to use on my clothes and started to wash them. After that was done I had dried off and put my clothes on a tree branch to dry them, covering myself with leaves, keeping my sword and scabbard close to my body and fell asleep smiling.

When I woke up in the morning stretching, I was smiling to myself. The good feeling from last night lasted into this morning, today was going to be a good day, I could feel it. I started Shaking off the leaves I had used as a blanket, it was one of those things that just came naturally to me, using nature to stay alive and well, not needing anything humans normally would. For a second I pondered if all elves could do that just, learn it all naturally, as if nature itself taught you, I had never in my life seen another elf. Something else I often wondered about was why I slept better outside then in, but then again, like normal I figured it was the fresh air. I stood up and grabbed my clothes off the branches; they had dried well in the night. I put them on then reached for my belt where my sword still lay. Picking it up I looked at the scabbard, smiling thinking of my best friend. Strapping it to my waist I stood in the trees and at one with nature, then sat down to meditate. Laughing out loud after I had finished my morning meditation I swung up onto the branch my clothes had dried upon, landing softly so that the leaves didn’t even flutter and cat walked along the branch to wear it met the tree trunk. I climbed up the tree and smiled, looking at the view over the plains, seeing Tristam sitting like a rock upon an otherwise clear field. I could see the towering walls, the doors thrown open to let the Villagers out to hunt and go about their business. I could see the smoke rising up from the chimneys…wait…. It was summer, why would the Villagers have their fires going? I looked closer, quickly going up higher to see over the wall, looking at Tristam I fell, shocked and scared. Quickly reaching out I broke my fall by grabbing the branch I had been resting on before climbing higher, and went up again. Tears came to my eyes as I gazed over the wall. Smoke rose from the huts, the once sturdy huts that could last almost anything nature could put out had been burned to the ground. Animals ran around loose, sheep bleating and dog barking, in a panic. I had to strain my ears to hear it that was why I hadn’t heard it earlier, I damned myself for loving my space…If I had heard it…maybe I could have gone and helped. I started to cry as I turned my attention to the wall once more; some of the wall guards bodies littering the ground around the wall. They must have fallen off the wall trying to defend it. Not wanting to see anymore I let go of the tree letting myself fall, nearly landing on the hard ground but I grabbed the branch my clothes had hung on, saving myself from a painful landing. It cut my hands open when I grabbed it, and painfully I let go as I came to a stop landing on my feet as gracefully as I could. Ripping the bottom of my tunic I tore it in two then used it as a cloth bandage tying the knots to keep the makeshift bandages starting to run towards Tristam. I ran as fast as I could, my elfin strides helping me go faster then any human ever could wish. Because of the situation I got there faster then I did normally and hesitantly stopped when the trees ended, not knowing if the people who had pillaged Tristam would still be there. Creeping up to the wall, using it for cover as I moved towards the gate, I nudged every body I came across, hoping I could find someone alive. But to no avail, they were all dead, after everybody I said a quick prayer, hoping there bodies could find rest. Moving faster I checked to see if anyone was standing guard at the gate and seeing no body I slipped inside. One in I nearly choked on what I saw. In the Village, twenty men were wall guards and outside of the gate I had only came across five, now I knew where the other fifteen were. I took out my sword now, ready to fight, wanting to fight the people who had done this. Fifteen men were lying near the guardhouse, all of them men I saw everyday, their bodies thrown onto each other. Fifteen heads where nailed to the guardhouse wall as some gruesome message. Seeing some of the people, who were kind to me and were my friends I started to cry, wet bitter tears that slipped silently down my face. Most of these men were too old to fight, people of Tristam never thinking they would ever need any one to protect it. Others were still very young, most no older then 12. Again, I said a quick prayer for these poor souls, again hoping that they could find rest, and then forgetting all else I started to run to where I knew our hut should stand. I ran as fast as I could, not caring if there was anyone around to see me, I ran to my friend, hoping she had magically avoided being hurt. My hut had been left relative unhurt, just a little smoldering. The hide normally covering the door was gone and I ran in, not saying anything, my eyes stony and cold, holding my sword at the ready and looking for Atha or her mother.