Chapter One

Chapter One

An icy rain beat down on the muddy ground as a chilling breeze whipped through the town. Drops of water fell from roofs and lampposts, tress and shop signs, and an unfriendly fog settled just above the buildings that made up the town of Hinicia. The loud horn of a ship docking in the harbour blended with the sounds of the storm, common to the people who lived in the port town.
There were little people wondering the streets; the majority taking shelter from the harsh storm in houses or inns. Most buildings had been locked up for the night as the owners of shops or stalls had packed up and gone inside, locking themselves up in the warmth while a few inns stayed open, waiting until the last ship docked before the keepers went to sleep.
There was an almost unbreakable calm taking over the town. No shouts sounded through the narrow streets or guards paced the main roads. It was as though the whole town was asleep, shutting the storm outside the windows as they rested; unaware of the hours ticking by.

The perfect night – or so it seemed – for a Lyrath to come out of hiding.

A hooded figure darted through the open street, features kept hidden under the worn-down cotton. She ran with an impeccable speed and control over her body; quickly dodging barrels that she had before over looked – unnoticeable due to the heavy fog. Her small feet made close to no sound as they lightly hit the floor; leaving no sign that she had ever been in the area.
By now her bistre cloak had soaked through and the thin clothes she wore underneath had come to grow damp. But she knew the only nights she could come out of the run down, beaten up old orphanage was when the downpour was so grim that no Human dared to venture in it – and so she ran on, knowing that her clothes would stay wet for the next few days and a cold was sure to come her way.
Her destination was the grand concrete walled castle that overlooked the town. She planned to slip in past the guards and snatch whatever food had been thrown out but was still edible by a Lyrath’s standard. It had become a frequent chore to the young Lyrath child; the guards of the castle had been more observant lately and on nights such as this, she knew they would be on the lookout. A dangerous task for an eleven year old girl, but one she had to do if she wanted to survive.

As the moon disappeared behind the large structure of the castle, the girl slowed and looked around, her breath coming out in quick, small bursts. She rested near an empty barrel hidden beneath a broken streetlight – ‘the usual spot’ as it was commonly called by her and her brother – before calling out in a soft whisper. “Bray?”
There was no answer for a moment and so the girl called once more, louder this time, as she pulled the cloth from her head and revealed knotted, peach coloured hair that was cut messily into a bob. Her face was rounded with ice-blue whisker like markings curling up her cheeks; her steel blue eyes shone in the moonlight and she looked around, wondering if she could have mistaken the area for another.
“Bray?” She called louder, almost at a normal pitch before the boy finally heard her calls and stepped out of the shadows beside a rather small brick house. He looked much alike the girl; same rounded face and his hair was a similar length, only a few shades darker and more of a ginger than plum colour. His eyes had an added tint of green to them and his ice-blue markings outlined his eyes rather than curving around his cheeks.
He was taller than the girl by an inch-or-two, but was much frailer looking and his clothes hung loosely off his body from the lack of a balanced diet. He blinked bashfully at the disapproving gaze his sister gave him when he came into view and bowed his head in apology, figuring she had called him a number of times beforehand.
“Again Bray? Do you even listen?” She asked in a hushed voice that was still loud enough to be classed as a scolding. But Bray simply ruffled the girl’s hair without an answer, waiting for her to go on with the usual checklist and hazards that she went through every time they carried out their reckless stealing.

“Promise me this time.” She started; her voice serious enough to catch his attention. “Promise that you’ll go straight back to the orphanage once you pick up the food.”
Bray nodded in answer, but spoke up once the girl gave him a cautious look. “I promise Cilia. I’ll go straight back.”
Cecilia glanced towards the floor in worry, not fully believing her older brother. “I don’t want the same as last time to happen. Even if you hear shouting please, please, just keep running towards the orphanage. Don’t head to where I’ve gone.” She paused, her voice desperate as she looked into the boy’s eyes, begging him with all that she had. “Please Bray.”
“Cecilia I promise.” He repeated. But the girl continued to look at the boy, only half believing his words and her worry growing with each passing second.
Her trust in her beloved brother had deteriorated when he had ventured after her, alarmed at the number of guards that had been chasing the young girl. That night, he had nearly got the two Lyraths killed, and though Cecilia knew he had only ran after her out of worry, she couldn’t bring herself to put her full trust into his promise.
“Okay Bray.” She muttered, her back turned towards the male as she walked off into the distance. Her legs ached from circling the town only moments before and her breathing was quicker than average. She was used to feeling the fatigue of vigorous exercise on nights such as this, but it had never been this bad – she had never gone so long without eating. She knew that her tired state would only lead to trouble, and as she stared at the large gates of the castle in front of her, wished she could turn back and return another night.

The large castle gates were made mostly of a stone archway and two chipped dark-wood doors. An elegant pattern embroidered the doors; curling onto itself in various places and trailing off in others. The large pieces of wood were almost ten times the size of the Lyrath girl that hid behind a red brick wall, peeping out to inspect the guarded area. Two knights stood guard outside the gatehouse, their metal armour shinning in the fire torch light that were hung either side of the monstrous doors. Rain ran down their silver coats as they stood unprotected by the ledge made above the gate house – the only reason the fire torches had been kept ablaze in the pouring rain.
There was no way the girl could sneak past the two figures without being seen with the positions they were standing in, and she looked around cautiously as though to spot another way into the castle. Any other day and she would have hopped the wall without a worry, but with the tremendous storm and lack of energy, Cecilia felt it better to play it safe than to tire herself out on only the first obstacle.
“There has to be another way.” She muttered to herself hopefully. Perhaps there was an unguarded gatehouse somewhere else along the wall, or a gap underneath that was large enough for her to squeeze through. Maybe if she waited long enough the guards would simply move on; their shift ending or a distraction that caused them to wonder off.
She pouted in thought. Waiting might lose her her only opportunity in a while to gather food, and there were but a few hours left of moonlight before dawn came back around to wake the town. She had to act with haste – but still be careful – or she could find herself and her brother going hungry until the next rainfall.

“When’d they say that cart was gonna ‘rive?” The guard on the left spoke, his words carried a heavy Hinician accent and he spoke in a rough tone, clearly bothered by the time he had spent waiting.
Cecilia paused – her back turned to the gate as she had been readying herself to find another way into the castle. She tiptoed back towards the wall, placing her delicate hands on the hard, bitterly cold surface and leaned forwards slightly, hoping to hear their words more clearly.
“Meant ta come in with the second-last boat. Should be ‘ere by now.” The second stifled a yawn and kicked his leg slightly to subside the numb feeling taking over it. “They’re takin’ the piss makin’ us wait in this rain.”
Though the first man nodded, he spoke against his partner’s words. “I’d quiet down if ey’ were you. Captain might ‘ere you.”
“Ay – gave me hell last time ey’ spoke outta line.” The guard perked up slightly and stared into the distance. His partner noticed the change in attitude and joined him, looking off down the beaten track and causing the Lyrath to stiffen in fear that they had noticed her hiding behind the wall. She made no sudden movements as she waited for them to move or speak.
“It’s about time!” The one man spoke as he stepped forth. “What kept ye so long?”
Cecilia turned her head and backed into the alley at the sight of a large horse pulled cart making its way towards her. Two large, black coated stallions pulled the wagon though the street and a man dressed in a wax covered, brown cloak sat at the reins. The large cart at the back had dark cloth covering it, shielding the contents from the rain and potentially hiding stowaways.

This was her chance, if she could slip into the back without anyone noticing her then she could get into the castle with little effort.

The two guards circled the wagon leisurely, checking it over for any intruders before they returned to their post, pushing open the heavy doors and making way for the vehicle to enter the stone archway. With their backs now turned and certain there were no passengers in the wagon, Cecilia darted to the back, gripping onto the ledge and pulling herself up before slipping beyond the dark cloth. Her heart raced with anxiety; she knew various things could go wrong and her life could be drawn to an end if even the kindest knight found her.

The inside of the wagon smelt oddly of fresh bread and the girl found she struggled to keep herself under control. Her stomach growled loudly and she closed her eyes in focus, trying to push her hunger away.
Luck – as it seemed – had been on her side up until this moment. It was rare for anything to go a Lyrath’s way and Cecilia realised this as she sat with her back prompted against the wall and bistre cloak comfortably hiding her face. She moved slowly at first; it was pitch black under the cover and the cart swayed slightly every so often, making it hard for the young girl to keep her balance. She walked with her hands outstretched to try to find anything that make obstruct her path.
There was little room in the wagon, and as Cecilia placed her foot forwards, kicked a large box that moved slightly, making a screech. She hissed at the object and bent down, feeling for the contents of the wooden contraption.
A soft, dough like texture met her hands. She lifted the light object into the dim light that came from the small gap in the cloth – bread. A fluffy loaf of bread, fresh and ready to eat, fit for a king. Cecilia was more than tempted to taste fresh bread so she stuffed the food into a leather bag slung over her shoulders before crawling along the floor for more food.
By the time the wagon had come to a stop the Lyrath had managed to shove three loafs of bread into her bag as well as picked one up as a decoy. If she was to be found, she’d use that one to lore the Knights after her while her brother made an escape with the remaining food in her bag.
It was the perfect plan.

“Ye took ya time didn’ ye?” A loud voice called from behind the Lyrath – the front of the wagon.
Cecilia’s eyes widened in fear as she rushed towards the back of the cart and peeped out of the holes, there was no one in front of her – if she was quick enough she may be able to make a safe escape – but who was to say there was no one behind her?
The girl popped her leg out of the cloth, waiting for a reaction. When none came, she quickly jumped to the floor, landing with a soft bang that caught the attention of the Knights behind her.
“Halt! Who goes there?” A man called as she began to run away from the cart and her pursuers.
She glanced back slightly as she darted through the open track. Three males chased after her, swords snug in her cases and looking dangerously threatening. The Lyrath faced forwards, quickly deciding she was better off looking at where she was going and ignoring the three behind her. She needed to focus and as she sprinted towards the open gate house she felt her body tiring. What had only been a short run felt like an eternity to her weak frame.
“Shut the damned gates!” The man from earlier screamed as they neared the large woodened doors.
Two figures popped out from behind the door, shocked and confused as the girl ran passed them with little effort. They quickly chased after her, joining the three men from beforehand and abandoning their post.

“Don’t let ‘er get away!”
Cecilia had little time to pay attention to the voices that called behind her as she quickly pulled the leather bag from her shoulder and dumped it into the barrel as she passed by. She now had room under her cloak to place the bread there, making it seem like she was protecting it from the harsh weather.
With wind howling in her ears, the girl turned a sharp corner, eyes darting back in fear as she looked to see her pursuers. There was a rather large gap between her and the men, but she was faced with a different problem. If she was to be caught heading towards the orphanage it would only cause trouble for the other orphans and most definitely lead to her imminent death; for what value does an orphan – or much worse, a Lyrath orphan – hold?
If it was known that a Lyrath child was out at unspeakable hours stealing food from the Royal castle, life would be much, much worse for her race.
Knowing this, the girl quickly changed direction. Her dirty, leather boots sunk slightly in the untrodden mud, but as she glanced back to advance down a safer alley found the palace guards hot on her tail. A low curse found its way into the cold night’s air as she picked up her pace, no longer knowing which end of the large town she was heading to.

The Western side of Hinicia was familiar to the sound of children running around and causing trouble, that was where the orphanage was located and the number of Lyrath children living in Hinicia was much higher than that of other cities due to its location. But the Lyrath was certain she was heading towards Eastern Hinicia – a place she had only wound up in a handful of times.
She now ran through a main street, houses standing guard, towering over her minuscule figure in a threatening manner. It would be all too easy to get lost in the foreign streets and as she ran further into a dark alley, a fear like no other rose inside of her.

“Come back here, ya little runt!” A loud voice called causing the girl to turn in shock.
Her footing fumbled as she jumped slightly; boot wedging itself into the sludge and bringing the girl down towards the floor as she found herself unable to advance. With arms outstretched and a loud shriek, her body fell into the wet dirt, covering her in mud and tearing the already worn down cotton of her greyed shirt. She gasped as the loaf she had once been clinging to flew out of her hands and into the dirt five feet away.
Unable to do anything else she tugged at her boot, desperately trying to free it from the clay-like substance. A tear left her steel blue eyes, running down her pale cheeks and mixing with the raindrops.
The group of five dark figures stood before her as she gawked up at them, fear evident on her face. They stared down menacingly, mocking her as she sat in the mud with a scraped knee and bruised elbow.
“Tryin’ ta steal from the castle, eh?” The middle figure spoke. He looked much like the captain of the group, a higher figure in the castle’s knights. He wore dark, heavy armour that –compared to the light, sliver armour of the other five knights- looked important and more guarded. It was rimmed with gold and glistened in the moonlight. If the girl had not been in danger, she would have gasped at the beauty of the outfit, but instead scowled, masking her fear.
“It’s not like the King needs it! If I didn’t take the food it would just go to waste! I don’t see the problem.” She barked back, her small voice rising in pitch every so often as she tried to remain calm.
A knight on the left side of the captain walked forwards towards the girl who backed away slightly. He reached out, removing her hood and pulling at her hair, moving her head to the side to inspect her features as a smirk crept onto his face. “’Tis a Lyrath, Captain.” He spoke, hand still firmly gripping onto the peach strands of hair.
“Food givun ta a Lyrath is food wasted, child. Surely ye understand now.” The Captain spoke as he placed an arm on the knight’s shoulder.
The girl’s hair was slowly released and the violent man backed away slightly, giving his Captain room to speak. With her leg still stuck in the mud, the Lyrath sat and glared, knowing her chances of escaping were slim. “But if we don’t eat it it’ll just rot!” She argued back, an attempt to talk the knight into letting her escape.
“Doesn’ matta, not my rules.” He spoke, thick Hinician accent sticking to his voice as he flicked his hand slightly. The remaining knights moved forwards, blocking the path before her and robbing even the slim chance that she had to escape. Her head moved from left to right, inspecting the men as they stood over her. The rough voice spoke once more and the girl whisked her head around to see him. “Besides, what worth does a Lyrath’s life hav’?”

It was at this point that the girl’s eyes widened. She watched the man draw his sword, metal catching the faint light from a high window. Flinching at the sound it made as it left its case, she closed her eyes and drew a long breath, knowing that her life would come to its quick end.
“You’d kill a child?” A distant, male voice called and the Lyrath opened her eyes to see who had spoken. Just as she did so, a flash of lightning struck the men who had turned their heads to see the intruder. Panicking, the girl kicked her leg forwards to free it from the ground as she pushed herself backwards and away from the electricity. Her back met a hard surface and she shimmied forward before turning her head, certain that there hadn’t been a wall there before.

Stood behind the Lyrath was an Elven girl, her damp blonde hair flowed freely down her back in small curls. Her grey eyes sparkled with excitement and relief as she looked down at the girl, a comforting smile playing on her lips.  She wore a byzantium kimono-like dress with lavender shorts underneath. Armour sneaked out of the top of her dress, giving the impression that although she cared about her appearance, she was aware her wellbeing mattered more. As the Lyrath looked at her, she wondered what an Elf was doing in a Human city.
Besides her was a young looking boy, his two-toned honey-blonde and light-brownish-blonde hair pulled back in a messy, loose ponytail. His eyes were a golden yellow that matched the gold accessories he wore, catching her eye as they stuck out of the deep brown cape around his shoulders. The Lyrath couldn’t see his clothes, but as he held his hand outstretched she noticed a blue glow emitting from it, the sign of magic at hand. Could it have been him that controlled the lightning in such a way that it struck –and killed- the castle knights?
To the right of the Elf was a tall male with pitch black hair. He wore a blank expression as he stood watch over the two besides him, occasionally glancing back as though on lookout. His arms were crossed over his chest, glistening armour protecting him from incoming blows. Red cloth ran down his body but left his arms bare, muscle evident from even a quick glance. His blue eyes looked down at the Lyrath quickly before looking away in disinterest. To him this was just another chore.
Finally, the girl turned her head to look at the approaching figure, medium ash brown hair swaying in the harsh breeze as he walked. A playful smile spread across his face as he stepped over the lifeless bodies of the knights, playing them almost no heed. He wore less armour than the ebony haired male, and Cecilia thought he looked better suited for quick duels rather than slow-powerful blows. The boy wore black armour that highlighted the grey, velvet, long-sleeved shirt.

“Good job Evan!” He laughed as he raised a hand which the younger looking, blonde haired boy high-fived. ”You’re getting better, bit more and you’ll be a master.”
The blonde, Evan, ignored his friend’s comment as he looked towards the girl sitting on the floor, her eyes wide as she watched the Humans interact, weary of their next actions. He glanced at her wounds and crouched down next to her, reaching out before the Lyrath pulled back and stood, shaking her foot as to free it from the small remains of mud that covered it. Cecilia had never trusted a Human and – though they may have saved her life – was not going to start now.
“It’s okay sweetie.” A soothing voice spoke as the Elf stepped forwards, nodding towards Evan who backed off, creating distance between himself and the untrusting Lyrath. She reached her hand out and placed it upon the girl’s shoulder as though to comfort her. “They’re not going to hurt you. Are you okay?”
The girl gave a quick nod of her head as she glanced around; searching for the bread she had dropped. Though she knew it had fallen in the mud, she figured that it may come in handy to hold onto it if worse times were to come. A bit of dirt was better than nothing at all.
“Why were they chasing you?” The woman inquired, eyes looking over the bodies on the floor before quickly looking away, sickened by the sight. 
“I uh...the bread…from the castle.” Was the Lyrath’s patchy reply as she limped over towards the bread that had dropped on the floor. The group watched in wonder as she picked it from the ground and showed it to them. Though she turned with caution a small smile was evident and her words were sincere. “Thank you. Really.” And with that the girl ran off, only glancing back once as she continued towards the orphanage.