Firstly, hello to those of you who'd like to give my little story here a bit of a chance. I've had this brewing in my head since middle school -- I've just now began to type it all up. I hope at least some of you will like this. :)

-Li

Chapter One

.Nymphs.

Another spring day was drawing to a close and the gray, stormy clouds of the afternoon were drifting toward the east. Not a soul was to be seen, save for a young girl seated in the damp grass and the small, winged creature resting its head against her thigh.

“AILA!” an exasperated voice called out. She looked over her shoulder to watch her childhood friend barrel up the hillside, his wand in hand and a lopsided bag slung over his right shoulder. With the way that wand of his was flying about, she thought it a wonder how he hadn’t managed to take his own eye out.

Panting, he crouched by her side and eyed the small dragon curiously, pointing the end of a shaking wand at it as he attempted to catch his run-away breath. After assuring himself the creature wasn’t going to bite his hand off (which included various “it’s too small to harm a fly” lines), he tucked his wand beneath his robes and flashed a toothy grin at her.

“What are you doing here, Daen?”

“Well, you didn’t think I was about to let you go all by yourself, didja? You know I love your little adventures, Aila.”

“This isn’t an adventure, it’s an –”

“Adventure. That’s what it is, you know, but you can try and deny it all you like.”

Aila sighed in defeat. It was bad enough that Daen had followed after her – she’d never rid herself of him now. Daen was about as stubborn as they came, and there was no hope in getting him to change his mind once he’d already made it up. Unfortunately for Aila, this meant she’d have yet another mouth to feed on this journey.

“You followed me?” she asked, attempting not to sound as worried as she was.

“Yeah.”

“Did you at least tell your parents?”

Daen shrugged and set his bag on the ground, ignoring the question all together. “Did you stop down in that village? They have some of the best Roseroot Stew I’ve ever had.” He beamed brightly, still grinning, and began to rummage through his overstuffed bag.

Aila had always known Daen to avoid questions that needed to be answered negatively. He was, first and foremost, a happy-go-lucky, cheery (if more than slightly brash) boy. He would never admit to doing anything wrong and was more than happy to jump from one subject to another without as much as a second thought. It was slightly irritating to deal with, but he was the closest friend she had and he had yet to do anything to gain distrust – she wasn’t above thinking negatively of him leaving home without telling his parents, though. She’d lived with them since the age of two; she’d had plenty of time to see what sweet, caring people they were. They had certainly gotten used to her running off for days at a time, but the sudden disappearance of their only son wouldn’t go unnoticed, even if they considered that she and Daen were relatively inseparable; Aila had assured them that she wouldn’t take Daen anywhere without their permission.

While she wasn’t fond of him following her, she had to admit (at least to herself) that it was to be expected at some point in time. After all, he would always mention wanting to go with her on one of her trips, and she’d promised him that one day he would. That day had come, and turning him away wasn’t an option she was going to spring for. The only thing she could do at this point was watch after him.

“You had best behave yourself,” she said gently as she ruffled his hair.

She’d recalled saying that three years ago, during the festivities of her eleventh birthday, and the poor boy had wound up blowing his potion up halfway through brewing. He had claimed to be trying to make a successful batch of Selfeidra, an Elven potion that (painfully) gifted the drinker a glistening pair of white fairy wings. Apparently, he’d forgotten that diamond and emerald weren’t compatible without moonstone. He’d spent the rest of the day wandering around as a sparkling mess with scorched clothes and a black face. Now that she thought of it once more, Aila didn’t think she’d had a more entertaining birthday.

As Daen opened his mouth to reply, there was a loud boom and several screams shred through their uncomfortable silence. Off in the distance, plumes of smoke were rising from the village, followed by pillars of flames. The fires seemed to spread more and more each passing second, and the clearing sky was darkened once more with gray. The two young teenagers immediately rose from their places and regarded the mayhem with complete shock.

As if in warning, an arrow shot by Aila’s head and she almost immediately grabbed Daen’s hand and stepped backwards, turning and running for the forest. Daen stumbled as he tried to keep up with her, mumbling several pleads for his life and apologizing for any sin he might have committed throughout his fourteen years of life thus far.

“I’m not going in there!” Daen shouted suddenly and dug his heels into the ground, but the effort was futile and Aila continued to pull him along. It was obvious to him that she was ignoring his pleads, so it wasn’t long until he gave up the fight and glanced down at the young dragon padding along beside her and flapping its wings.

“Trivial,” said Aila as she rolled her eyes.

By the time the smoke had completely obscured the night sky, they had reached the forest. Aila smiled triumphantly as Daen caught his breath, thought her smile was quick to fade as she glanced over her shoulder and watched the plumes of smoke rolling over the hills. In an effort not to focus on the terrible event, she averted her gaze to the dragon circling her feet, watching as it mewed and spit small fireballs at any grass-dwelling insect it saw.

“Were those –?” Daen spoke suddenly, startling Aila; she nearly jumped at the sound of his voice.

“I don’t know what they were.” Aila pulled her wand from her robes and gave it a wave and the tip suddenly shone with a bright white light that illuminated their dreary surroundings. She turned to offer Daen a comforting smile and caught his gaze, and he stared back at her with an almost dreamy expression. For the first time since he’d known her, Daen saw how peculiar her eyes looked in the unnatural light. They had an odd sheen – like pearls – and were strangely beautiful. He thought of this as he stalked after her and into the forest, the dragon nipping at his feet all the while.

As night drew on and they continued through the woods, the only source of light remained the tip of Aila’s wand, the only sound was that of cracking twigs beneath their feet. Aila was growing tired and wasn’t certain how long she might be able to continue without rest; she doubted Daen was any better off.

The sound of giggles and whispers began to drift through the air and Aila stopped suddenly, just in time to hear a few childish voices whispering about the “cute boy behind the girl with hair spun of mud.” She moved her wand as she heard the leaves rustle, only managing to catch fleeting figures in the light.

“They sound kind of cute, don’t you think?” Daen smiled brightly as he heard more giggles and nervously began to rock back and forth on his heels.

“Yes, very cute,” Aila muttered sarcastically. These whoever-they-weres seemed extremely talented in the art of getting on her nerves and Aila was in no mood to play games.

Daen yelped suddenly and Aila turned to find a young woman with her arms wrapped securely around his neck. She was quite a sight to behold, with her wavy brown hair, pale skin, and evergreen eyes. The light from the wand only made her look more unearthly, she suspected. Aila stepped toward her as she moved away from her friend..

“It’s not very nice to stare,” the stranger cooed playfully, smoothing her silken dress.

After a thoughtful pause, Aila narrowed her eyes. “Who are you?” Short, sweet, and to the point.

“Daryd. I dwell here in the forest, among these trees.” There was a pause; Aila noted the mischievous expression that took over the woman’s childlike features. “Do you mind if I keep your friend?”

“I mind very much.” Aila sneered and waved her wand to the left and averted her gaze. “There were two of you. Where is the other?”

Daryd moved closer to her, her eyes wide and curious, and canted her head to the side. “Your eyes, they scared her – the way the shine in the light.”

Aila lowered her wand, looking worried. “Oh...” She wrinkled her nose and glared at Daryd, grabbing Daen by the sleeve almost possessively as the strange woman moved toward him again. Daryd grumbled and pouted, looking as though she’d lost something she held dear and Daen muttered a few lines about his over-protective mother figure. “Well, do you know anywhere we might be able to stay the night?”

After an hour’s worth of convincing, Daryd lead the two teenagers (and the unfortunately-proportioned dragon) into the heart of the forest and to a quaint little village. Several of the wood and ivy buildings were built into and around the trunks of large, ancient trees, though neither of them had any walls to speak of. Aila thought they looked more like open temples than homes and was slightly confused by the several chairs and tables littering the floors. She’d seen no sign of any other furniture – did they have no beds? She made an odd face at the thought and put her wand out, tucking it beneath her robes as she continued to survey the area.

Several young women were seated by the bank of a stream that ran through the center of the village, each chatting away and combing through their long, wavy brown hair or playing in the shallow water. Aila regarded each of them curiously, noting the subtle differences that set them apart (one girl was slightly more on the hefty side and seemed to be nibbling on some sort of food and another had hair significantly shorter than the others). They seemed so statuesque in the soft blue light of the several lamps scattered along the banks and village.

For the most part, the newcomers had gone relatively unnoticed and Daryd had soon left them to their own devices, though only after apologizing for the lack of beds and explaining how her people (the “Forest Children,” as she called them) had no need for most things that humans relied on.

As Daen had wandered off to converse with their hosts, Aila seated herself in a chair and was joined by Daryd shortly thereafter, who had pulled her hair up and secured it with various elaborate wooden combs. The woman wasted no time in piling the small area of table in front of her with the sweets stacked in the center, and almost immediately started shoveling the food into her eager mouth. Aila thought it looked very much as though the poor thing hadn’t had a bite to eat for a week.

“Deser ally gud,” Daryd managed with a mouth full of food and held a sweet out to Aila, who hesitated for a moment before taking it.

“It looks...” A bit like a ball of clumped mud. Aila narrowed her eyes and examined the treat with a look of worry, then pressed it against her lips and took a small bite. Surprisingly, it didn’t taste too bad at all. Aila likened it to a mix of peppermint and chocolate, with a few bursts of strawberry. Without so much as another word, she hastily finished the treat off.

“You have such pretty eyes,” Daryd said suddenly as Aila picked another treat from the center of the table. “I didn’t think it was possible for the colors of the leaves and of the air to mix in such a pretty way. You are –?” She paused and leaned in, over the table. Aila instinctively leaned back. “Hiding a secret.”

Aila, stunned, rose from her seat and pushed the chair in. “My secrets are mine to keep,” she stated coldly, brows furrowed as she snatched another treat and stalked off for a place to sleep, the small dragon hobbling along behind her with its nose in the air. She didn’t need or want anyone mentioning anything about any obvious (or not so obvious) secrets she’d been trying desperately to hide for the majority of her life.

She awoke the next morning to the same soft light that illuminated the village, and gazed up through the breaks in the trees to darkened sky. It can’t be that early. She sighed and turned to her side to see Daen sleeping peacefully a few inches away. Daryd was perched on one of the large roots that Daen and herself had slept between. Suddenly feeling guilty for her mistreatment of the young woman, Aila frowned and pushed herself up into a seated position. “I’m sorry,” she started quietly, careful not to wake Daen. “I shouldn’t have treated you so harshly.”

Daryd smiled, accepting the apology, and leaned back against the large body of the tree. “You are Aila, right? Daen told me this morning, and he said your dragon is in need of a name.”

Feeling stupid, Aila rubbed at her arm and averted her gaze to the sleeping, winged creature. “She does need a name. ...Do you know what time it is?”

“It’s mid-morning. The Black Witch must be working her magic.”

Aila perked up, “the ‘Black Witch’...?”

“Haven’t you noticed that it takes longer for the sun to rise each day?” Daryd slipped from the root and moved to take a seat next to Aila, lowering her voice as she continued, “it’s the work of the Black Witch, Hekkat. It is said that her eyes shine like the moon and she and her followers walk the land during the night, dressed in tattered black robes and carrying lamps of Hellfire. Those who get caught in their path suddenly become mad and wild.”