By: The Great and Powerful BEEEE!!!!
She stared at him, her brows curled into a frown. No words came from her
Ryu still held onto her arms, trying to prevent her from hurting herself.
"It'll be fine okay?" he said, calmly.
Enya only stared more; then she yanked away. "Whatever, Sword Boy," she
said, walking away. Ryu rushed after her.
This Story is dedicated to my friends and family.
Chapter 1: The Lone Half-Born
Donovan Darcy, a poor, lonely man lived alone in the antiquated land
of Ronland, ruled by a king and a queen. His father, Dean, was once the
king's most rusted knight; however, soon after he was born and Donovan's
mother died, and Dean went wild, his insanity eventually leading him to
betray the king, which was what, in the end, sealed his death.
As a baby, Donovan was taken in by an orphanage. Of course, since his
father was a well known sprite (which was simply a creature with magical
powers, born from the underworld whereas Humans originated powerless and
above-ground) and his mother was a Human, this made him a half-sprite, half-
human. Yet, the children insisted upon referring to him as a half-born.
As Donovan grew into his teen years, he was thrown out of the
orphanage for something he did not even do, or intend to do. While he was
passing a ball to a young girl during free hours, it lit into a dark ball
of flame and burned the girl's hands, scarring them for life. Because of
this, he was accused of trying to harm one of his peers and thrown out onto
Donovan, but a mere 14-year-old boy at the time, was never angered by
what the Humans had said about him. He was always more frightened than
angry, a quality which he inherited from his mother, Kaytlin. He also
resembled her more than he did his father. He had long wavy dark brown
hair, dark brown eyes, and medium-toned skin. He was always good-looking,
yet he never thought much of it.
He roamed the streets for weeks, starving to death, too frightened to
ask for the leftovers of the Humans. Finally, he decided to take it upon
himself to find a job. He began to grow and sell healing herbs from the
back of an old wagon. This went on for six years and throughout that time,
he became quite wealthy, yet he was still lonely, had no friends, and was
looked down upon by most.
In the present time, Donovan was practically a man now, 20 years old,
had a good business, and had his own manor. It could be said that this
nobleman lived a happy life, but one could never tell by his seemingly
permanent forlorn expression.
One dreary winter afternoon, Donovan donned his cloak and traveled
down the busy buggy-filled streets of Ronland to a small restaurant
entitled "Nick's Place". He was quite familiar with this bistro, for he had
been there at least once a week to taste their delicacies. However, on this
particular day, he had gone to meet a gentleman named Flynn to discuss his
herb business and hopefully make a huge sale.
As he entered the diner, he took his usual seat at a small table in a
dark corner near the rear. The young waitress who worked there came
immediately. Her name was Bianca, Donovan recalled. She was Nick's
daughter. A lustrous woman, she was. Around his age with long blonde,
nearly white hair, fair skin, pale green eyes and a friendly smile. He sort
of knew her. He only spoke to her when he wanted to make an order. He was
almost frightened of her, yet he did not know why.
"Hello there, are you ready to make your order, sir?" she asked.
Donovan looked down at the table at the menu that lay there. "No
thanks. I was waiting for someone. I'll order when he gets here," he said,
staring down carefully not to look at her.
"Oh, all right. What's his name? I'll let you know when he gets
here," Bianca asked, placing her hand onto the table to lean.
Donovan found himself looking at her hand. So petite, so delicate.
"Uh." he said, unknowingly.
Bianca removed her hand from the table and placed it on her left hip.
"Hmmm?" she asked again.
He blushed and looked down, back at the table. "Flynn. Donald Flynn,"
he said quickly. He wished that she would not stare at him like that. He
felt so unsteady around her, as if she had some sort of power over him.
"Got it. Well, I'll let you know," Bianca said, turning and walking
away, her long bright hair gliding behind her like a wave of sparkling
Donovan sat patiently and waited for Flynn. Quite some time passed
and it was nearly two hours before Bianca returned to his table. Her
expression was difficult to interpret. Cheerful, yet sympathetic at the
same time. Flynn had not come, he knew.
"Flynn hasn't come yet. It's been a while. Perhaps he had an
emergency or something of the sort," she said.
Donovan forced a slight smile, trying to convince himself that he was
not the least bit disappointed. Of course he was. "Oh, don't worry about
it. I'm sure we can re-schedule," he said, digging in his pocket for a few
gold coins. "A tip for your trouble," he said kindly, looking away. He
figured that it was the least he could do for causing her so much
Bianca took the coins and stared at them in the palm of her hand.
Then, she looked out at the empty diner, and eventually back at him. "You
know, this is just enough to share a platter of some nice hot grilled
salmon," she said with her usual warm smile.
Donovan looked at her in surprise. Share? She wanted to share a meal
with him? Grilled salmon was his favorite dish. Did she know this? Or was
it just a coincidence? He tried to think of an excuse to leave. "B.but, I."
"Now, don't you move a muscle, I'll be right back," Bianca said,
leaving to the kitchen.
He sighed. Great. He was stuck. Stuck with the most beautiful woman
in Ronland. Why was he so afraid? She certainly would not harm him. He put
his fist against his chest and felt his heart pound against it roughly. He
was nervous. He had never sate and eaten with a woman before, unless of
course it was about his business.
Shortly, Bianca returned with a nice plate of grilled salmon and two
glasses of juice. After placing the food on the table, she sat on the chair
opposite him and stared at him. "You always eat here alone unless you're on
business. Why?" she asked all of a sudden.
Donovan had already begun to eat, trying anything to get his mind off
of the fact that he was practically on a date with a woman he had always
secretly admired. But did she know that? Did she admire him as well? After
he chewed and swallowed, he answered. "I don't know. I guess I never felt
the need to eat with anyone."
Then, Bianca appeared to be sad for some reason. Did she pity him?
Did she understand how he felt? "Do you have any friends?" she asked, her
voice softening and her pale green eyes burning into his dark ones.
He went for more food, but noticed that a little less than half was
left over, and since they were sharing, he only thought it was fair that he
should leave the rest for her. Then, he decided to answer her question.
"No," he said, honestly.
Donovan's hand was still on the table near the plate. Bianca reached
over the table and put her hand onto his. He felt his cheeks burn red and
wanted to jerk away; however, at the same time, he enjoyed the feeling of
her gentle hand over his.
"Yes, you do," she said, smiling again.
"Uh.I." Donovan tried to say something, trying to convince himself
that he was not completely terrified at that very moment. Of course, he
was. Then, without thinking, he slipped away from her grip and stood. "I
have to go now," he said, taking a short respectful bow.
"Do you mind if I walk with you?" Bianca asked, artlessly.
Yes! he wanted to shout, but how could he resist those eyes? He
simply could not.
"No. You can come."