in the big huge world
Prologue
In the soaking wet rain, a huddled figure clutched a small bundle to its chest. The bundle squirmed, and the figure rocked it gently, sheltering it from the coldness of the precipitation with its tattered, threadbare cloak.
“Shh, dear babe. It will all be better once a body in this forsaken village commences to let us in. Dearie, I’ve a mind to walk straight back to that inn and give its keeper a talkin’ to he shan’t soon forget,” the figure said, clearly a woman.
The babe wriggled a bit more and began to wail pitifully. It shivered and wailed some more, and the woman shushed it harshly and began walking toward a small house.
The door swung open, a dark shape standing in the doorway. The woman muttered and began to edge away, into the shadows of the darkened street.
“What is a wraith doing here, dearie? I never thought that this evil day would come . . . ” she rambled on. She knew the babe had not the faintest idea of what she was saying; such a small, undeveloped mind could not comprehend any words save ‘dearie’ and ‘babe’ and ‘shh’.
And the door shut, making the street darker than ever. The babe opened its eyes and they reflected the light of a full moon. The woman stumbled backwards as if she had been struck.
The babe had bright blue eyes; eyes that glittered conspicuously and flashed with intelligence. The eyes had a look of authority in their midst.
The door burst open again, and the woman almost dropped the babe. And she scuttled deeper into the shadows, until her frame was pressed against the cold, hard wall of the house. The wraith closed the door again, and she decided he must be checking every few minutes. Surely he hadn’t seen them in the darkness? ? ?
“Ah, dearie. There won’t be any shelter tonight. I wouldn’t commence to sleeping with a wraith snooping around. Sorry dearie, but poor old Caressa won’t have any sleep. But you can close your eyes, get some sleep,” she whispered.
The sun burst through the grey, frowning skies. The woman Caressa leapt to her feet, the babe still wrapped in a piece of cloth. The sleepiness had drained from her body as soon as the sun had awoken her, but she scolded herself for falling asleep in a wraith-watched town.
“I swear, that no good king Alamon must have something up. A wraith guarding the smallest village? It was never heard of in the Golden Days of the line of Adusir! But of course,” Caressa added drily, “these aren’t the days when Farthenhill thrived, are they, dearie?”
And Caressa began walking back to the village warily, realizing she had wandered farther than she thought in her sleep muddled night. She was sure to avoid the wraith’s house.
When she came to the inn, the Golden Boar, she turned up her nose and walked away. After the display of rudeness shown to her by the innkeeper she vowed never to set foot in the inn again.
So the babe and Caressa left the village, both hungry. She sighed. Perhaps she could find something on the road. The babe could eat food now, of which she was grateful. There was no need at all to tug a goat or cow from village to village just for milk.
Caressa paused. She heard something, and the look in the babe’s eye told her she had heard it too. She shushed it, and walked along the road cautiously. She would be no use to the babe if she was dead, no use at all.
Suddenly, like a summer thunderstorm, she was surrounded. “Elves,” she spat. “Just what the poor dearie needs.” They were all armed with long swords and bows. All of the Elves were women too.
One, a fair elf with dark hair, looked her straight in the eye. The babe wailed and she jerked her head to it. And she whispered to another elf, who nodded and shouted in their language:
“El Vyerenn!”
Caressa shielded the babe, forgetting her own life and giving all her attention to the now wailing creature in her wrinkled hands. Then the arrows pierced her flesh, burning through her blood. She screamed in rage, cursing the Elves and drawing her breath in ragged gasps.
“Don’t forget your name, dearie. Your secret name. Dreama.” And so it came to pass that Caressa Gariye, Daughter of Alamon Gariye, died.
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