Weeping Willow (Part One)

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Weeping Willow (Part One) Page 1

by Sandra Madera




  WEEPING WILLOW

  (PART ONE)

  by

  Sandra Madera

  * * * * *

  PUBLISHED BY

  SandraMadera.com

  Weeping Willow

  Copyright © 2011 by Sandra Madera

  Ebook Edition License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be altered, re-sold, or given away to other people. This story is FREE and does not require payment. If you’re reading this book and did not download it from SandraMadera.com or other legitimate online bookstore, please download a legitimate copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  * * * * *

  CHLOË:

  “This is it,” Rosalyn Dennis announced as she pulled into the driveway of a large manor. “Do you like it?”

  “Sure, Mom,” I muttered as I brushed a few strands of my silky, black hair away from my face. “I like haunted houses.”

  “It's not haunted,” she said matter-of-factly. “This house is our new beginning. Can you see its potential, Chloë?”

  “You say that every time we move,” I told her with a smile.

  My mom smiled back. She wasn’t like other mothers I have met. Appeared younger than her years, her skin was smooth, free of wrinkles and blemishes. Her eyes were large and sparkled like bright, blue gems. She had long, black hair that was silky and straight, reaching her delicate waist. She was tall and thin, but she wasn't awkward like I was. Her movements were graceful.

  Opening the passenger’s side door, I got out of my mom’s minivan. I looked up at the massive, stone facade. The house was almost uninhabitable, but it seemed to have nice bones. It had large windows... some of which were broken, but I could look beyond that. Those windows were sure to let in lots of light. It had a heavy, wooden door with a stained glass insert. Taking a better look at the glass, I realized it depicted a large oak tree.

  “I like it,” I said sincerely, more for my own ears than anyone else’s.

  “Chloë,” my mom called from the rear of the van.

  I turned to her.

  She motioned with her hands. “Your ears, darling.”

  “Oh,” I gasped, brushing my hair to my face. “Sorry.”

  “Why don't you go inside and make yourself at home,” she said, taking a box from the back of the van. “Your room is up the stairs. The first door to the right.”

  “Okay,” I said, feeling embarrassed.

  I ran inside and flew up the stairs. I couldn't wait to see my new room. I hoped it was everything I dreamed it to be. We never lived in such a big house before. It made me wonder where mom got the money to buy this place.

  When I reached the door, I gently slid it open. I couldn't believe my eyes. The room was twice as big as my old one. It had a large bay window with a window seat. I envisioned myself reading many books on that window seat.

  My furniture had already arrived, and I jumped on my bed. Excitement washed over me, and I started to giggle. This house was a new start. No more being teased.

  I stood up from my bed and walked over to the mirror on the opposite side of my room. My appearance was shocking to most people my age. I was tall with a wiry frame. People said I was all limbs like one of those daddy-long-legs spiders. As a matter-of-fact, kids use to call me daddy-long-legs in school. We moved a lot, but I was teased no matter where we went. I used to cry about it, but now, I understand my bullies a bit more. I was different. Even at a young age, I towered over everyone in my class. Over the years, I have come to terms with my five foot ten inch frame and have been more comfortable in my skin than I was then.

  Looking at my reflection, I took notice of my long, black hair which hung down to my waist limply. My skin was so pale it was almost translucent. My cheeks were rosy, and my lips were red. My eyes were like large, aqua-colored marbles and my ears.

  My ears were pointy! It was a deformity that I shared with my mother. We always covered our ears with our long hair, but sometimes, they poked out. It was hard to keep them covered. I was always insecure about them, because I was called Spock in school. My mom promised that when we had enough money she would pay for me to have surgery. I looked forward to the day I would look like everyone else.

  Today is a new day, I thought, shaking the negative thoughts from my head.

  “Are you okay, sweetie?”

  I turned and saw my mother standing in the doorway. She wore a look of concern that I knew well. “Sure,” I responded with a weak smile, grasping the amethyst amulet around my neck. I had it for as long as I could remember. I wore it all the time. I felt naked without it. Whenever I felt embarrassed or uncomfortable, I found that when I held it in my hands I instantly felt better. It was my security blanket.

  “Well, hurry up and come downstairs. I thought we could order pizza and watch a movie,” she said, making her way down the staircase.

  “What about unpacking?” I called after her.

  “It can wait until tomorrow,” she yelled back. “Summer is almost over, and I want to spend as much time together as possible.”

  It made me sad to think that this would be our last year together before I went off to college. I tried to clear my mind of the thought of having to leave home. Instead, I adjusted my T-shirt in the mirror and ran downstairs.

  * * * * *

  CHLOË:

  I walked leisurely in the woods.

  The branches were covered in frost, and the ground was blanketed with freshly fallen snow. I walked down a snow covered path that extended as far as the eye could see and was flanked by large oak trees. There were no signs of human life, and I was solely surrounded by nature.

  All of a sudden, there was a light gust of wind and fresh snow flakes fell from above much to my own delight.

  Looking down at myself, I saw that I wore a beautiful gown that was light and airy. I was guarded against the cold by a thick, white cape and matching gloves. I wore fur booties on my feet, and my amethyst amulet hung from around my neck.

  Walking through the field of oaks, I couldn’t describe the sense of freedom I felt. I was in an isolated place. I was surrounded by nature and all its beauty. I felt at home.... I couldn’t help but smile, feeling warm despite the weather.

  I watched as squirrels ran up and down the trees. I heard hawks squawking as they circled above the leaf canopy.

  I began to run, leaving tracks in the snow in my wake. Giggling with delight, I made snowballs and threw them at trees. When I was done with my play, I trekked forward. Oblivious to my final destination, I knew I wanted to see as much as possible before I got there.

  Suddenly, my attention was sparked as I heard a noise up ahead, igniting both fear and excitement within me. It sounded like a voice of some sort. It seemed to be angry. Maybe, even in the midst of a heated argument.

  Silently, I moved towards the sound, feeling a bit curious. My long coat dragging behind me, I stopped at a clearing in the forest. Every instinct within me told me to hide, and I obeyed, concealing myself behind a snow-covered bush. It took time for my eyes to adjust to the scene before me. My vision grazed the figure that was causing the commotion.

  It was a young man that seemed to be in his twenties. When I looked a little closer, I realized he was unlike any man I had ever seen. He was tall with a thin, muscular frame. His skin was pale and smooth. His hair was as white as the snow that covered the earth. Hanging nearly to his waist, his mane was straight and fine. His loose hair framed his face which possessed sharp features that were intriguing to the eye.

  Impervious to the cold, his bare chest was exposed to the elements. He wore black boots that went up to his knees and loose fitting burgundy breeches. There wore a black scarf around h
is waist that was tied as if it were a belt.

  Wielding two large, curved swords in his hands, he practiced swordplay like a soldier heading to war. He made violence look as if it was an art form. I watched in awe as he gathered momentum, running up a tree and flipping over in a back flip. He landed gracefully on his feet. The blades he held in his hands pierced the air as if slicing through an unworthy adversary.

  I wanted to lean in to get a closer look. Without thinking, I shifted my weight forward; unaware of the presence of a horse strapped to the tree beside me, I gasped, drawing unwanted attention to myself.

  Spooked, the horse broke the silence with a high pitched cry, signaling my presence.

  I ducked further behind the bush, praying the stranger did not find me.

  “What is it, Arion?” the man asked the horse, concerned. His voice was rich and warm, steeped in an accent that was both unexpected and charming.

  As I heard the man approach, my heart began to pound within my chest.

  I looked around for a way out of this situation. I knew it would only take him seconds to find me. My first instinct was to run, and I did. I ran as fast as I could, knowing there was really no place for me to hide.

  “Stop!” the stranger screamed behind me.

  I could hear his boots hitting the snow as he gave chase.

  Out of breath, I realized my limbs were about to give out on me as my thin body was not built for strenuous exercise. I made my best effort to run faster, but it was no use.

  Feeling a distinct tug on my forearm, I gasped in pain. I felt like my arm was being pulled out of its socket as his grip tightened around me. Before I knew it, I was being swung around and pushed up forcefully against a tree.

  With a dagger placed to my throat, he towered over me and was as solid as the trees that surrounded us. Seething with power, he asked, “Who are you?” He was afire as he spoke through gritted teeth. His mouth was curled into a grimace as if he couldn’t wait to inflict pain upon me. His gray irises were frighteningly penetrating and almost white in color.

  He was strong. He may not have even realized his own strength.

  Trembling with fear, I could feel his warm breath on my cheek. “Please, I meant no harm,” I managed to spit out, my heart pounding in my chest. I knew he was not a man to be toyed with.

  Glancing down at my amulet, his eyes connected with it as if it were familiar to him. Immediately, his eyes shifted to my face. Holding the dagger firmly in place, he yanked the chain from my neck with his free hand, holding it up for me to see. “Where did you get this?” he asked forcefully.

  “I cannot remember,” I answered honestly.

  “Speak! Or I will cut the tongue from your mouth,” he said menacingly.

  Staring into his frightening eyes, I believed him. I could feel hot tears escaping my eyes, but I was powerless to stop them. “I swear to you that I do not remember,” I cried, growing increasingly hysterical. “I have had it all of my life!”

  His eyes opened wide as if coming to some kind of realization. “Willow?” he questioned, his voice cracking as he searched my eyes.

  With my voice caught in my throat, I suddenly couldn’t breathe.

  “You live? How?” he asked in apparent bewilderment, running one hand tenderly alongside my face while removing his sword from my throat.

  Still pressed against a tree, I clutched my chest, unable to stop my heart from palpitating.

  Jumping up in bed as if struck with a bolt of electricity, I anxiously took in my surroundings, desperately trying to find something familiar. My heart was beating at an accelerated rate. Hyperventilating, I wiped my sticky forehead that was mopped with sweat. It took me a minute to realize that I was safe in my bedroom and not in the woods with someone who was ready to cut my tongue off. I was safe, and it was all a dream.

  A faint glow caught my eye, and I looked down at my sheets to get a better look. Still groggy, it took me a few seconds to realize the object my eyes had locked onto. It was my amulet. It had fallen off of my neck. The amethyst crystal seemed to glow as if it had a light source inside of its structure. Upon inspection, I realized that it had not fallen off. A link had been broken in the chain as if it had been torn off of my neck.

  I began to quiver with the possibility that my dream could actually be real.

  I heard my bedroom door open with a click, and my mother rushed inside. “What is the matter?” she asked, her eyes growing wide when she saw the glowing amulet. Throwing her arms around me, she held me in an embrace. I could feel her shaking as she said, “What have you done?”

  I didn't know what to say as my voice was still trapped inside my throat.

  “You’ve summoned him,” she cried.

  I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what I had done. Or, how to fix it.

  Before I could react, she began to cry hysterically, “Why did you do it?”

  Puzzled, I shook my head at a loss as to what she was referring to. “I don’t know,” I managed to say in a wispy voice. “I don’t know.”

  * * * * *

  NALIN:

  I awoke with a jolt.

  I had seen her. In that moment, she was real. She wore the amulet I had gifted her and had the same blue eyes that I admired so many years ago. Could it be? Could she still be alive?

  Revitalized with a new sense of optimism, I jumped up from my bed, putting on my robe. I walked out into the long hallway that led to the stairs. The noise of my hurried footsteps bounced off the walls, echoing through the long corridor.

  The palace was massive. The entire building was carved inside an ancient oak which was a hundred yards wide and reached as tall as the heavens. Each extended branch was converted into a turret. The castle had over a thousand windows and hundreds of doors which led to countless rooms. Each exterior wall was at least three feet thick, making it impenetrable to the devices of an opposing army. The corridors were lit with torches that were scattered throughout the structure and burned with an enchanted blue fire. Such an enchantment was necessary, because ordinary fire might have scorched the walls.

  Descending the staircase, I made my way to the library. Bursting through the doorway, I encountered my sister who was seated before a grand fireplace, reading over documents. “She lives, Daphne,” I said excitedly, standing before her. “She lives! I have seen her!”

  “Who are you referring to, Brother?” she asked, moving her long, white hair away from her face.

  “Willow,” I answered, my heart bursting within my chest. “I feel her presence. She is alive.”

  Daphne appeared skeptical. “Where have you seen her?”

  My sister was beautiful. She was only older than me by a century but appeared more youthful. Her hair was long and straight, reaching past her hips. Her skin was pale. Her eyes were gray like my own, and her features were delicate and kind. She wore a red and gold robe that reflected softly over the light of the fire.

  “Within a dream,” I answered.

  She laughed, throwing her head back. “Nalin, dreams are merely illusions of the mind. They depict that which we want most ourselves to see,” she said matter-of-factly. “Do not get your hopes up for a dream.”

  Suddenly feeling unsure, I shifted my weight nervously. “I have proof,” I said, desperate to prove to her what I already knew in my being.

  She stood up from her seated position. “Show me,” she said, her eyes reflecting the light of the fire.

  I held up my hand, exposing the ring which I wore on my small finger. “It is aglow,” I explained to her.

  “That proves nothing,” she scoffed, but her eyes flickered with something that contradicted her words.

  “This ring is linked to the necklace I gifted her when she was born,” I replied, stunned that she could dismiss my claim. “I placed a spell over the stones when I created them that will manifest our life force. It would not glow if she didn't have life.”

  “Has it glowed before this night?”

  I shook my head. “
No,” I answered truthfully.

  “How could that be if she had life all this time?” she questioned skeptically.

  “I don’t know,” I answered, conflicted. “Perhaps if she had been... in another realm this whole time.”

  Daphne placed a hand on my shoulder. “Is this because of the engagement?” she asked, concerned. “Are you scared to wed?”

  “There will be no wedding. I will not marry for obligation,” I answered forcefully.

  “You must get over these old fashioned beliefs of the elders.”

  “Father believed in them. Mother did as well,” I retorted. “The prophecies do not lie.”

  “Look at where it has gotten them! They are dead! Casualties of this horrid war,” she replied angrily. “There is no one love that unites us to another. Willow was not your other half. She was a mistake.”

  “Enough!” I shouted menacingly, balling my hands into fists.

  “Why do you live your life by the prediction of an oracle?” she asked sternly. “Jasmine is a girl worthy of your affection. I dare say you will be quite happy together.”

  “Jasmine’s worth is in that she is a pure blood. Her family has a legacy of serving in the royal court for thousands of years,” I admitted. “But the oracle was clear that I could unite both heaven and earth. Now, I realize Willow’s significance in―”

  “I will not have you dirtying our blood,” Daphne countered, cutting him off. “One day, all of this will be yours. I cannot hand over the empire to a brother who wishes to destroy all that we stand for.”

  “The realm is in your hands for now, Sister. I would rather be on the front lines than dealing in politics,” I told her honestly. “But when the time comes, no one can deny me my birthright.”

  “It is your birthright, but I wonder if you have made the transition from Elfling to Elf,” she said. “You continue to chase after an illusion! You lack the maturity needed for such a position. Someone in such a position puts their obligations first.”

  I looked down at the floor. I knew she was right, but I did not want to hear her words. “Can’t you see what this could mean for me? For our kingdom?”

  Daphne said nothing.

  “It would mean that we have entered into a war for nothing. That I fought on the front lines, risking my life, for nothing. Perhaps there could be peace. Isn’t it worth the effort to look for her?”

 

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