The Chronicles of Elcreon: Part 1 the Castling and the Witch

By Steffani Draigar, Amanda Tripley and Lina Grae

Fortune favours the brave, and it is most definitely the time to be brave…

Step into the mystical world of Elcreon…  where lands are plagued by monsters and nightmarish spirits, mythical creatures run wild, spell casters use ancient magic, and people are born with unique powers.

Humans do not rule this world alone, for elves, dwarves, wilderans and deranj all vie for power and control.

A cursed child with powers that can rival beasts and slay enemies; determined to find her family and uncover the mystery of her past.

A terrible secret. A hunted abomination. A choice that will change her life forever.

United in parabond – a girl and her fearless animal companion embark on a journey, leaving a trail of trouble and bloodshed behind them.

A fantasy filled adventure that will inspire you at every turn.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Sep 9, 2020
• ISBN: 9781663204004

Steffani Draigar

Steffani Draigar was born in Australia in 1993. From an early age, she had a passion for creating imaginary worlds where anything was possible. As she grew up, she decided to put her ideas to paper and create stories, so that other people could enjoy her imagination too. Her dream is to inspire other creative minds, one adventure book at a time. And if a few people are left disturbed by the wild and wacky happenings in her books… that’s okay too.

Book preview

1

ENDLESS

I t was the scream – the scream of a woman drowning in desperation; as everything she held dear was being stolen away – that scream that jolted the little girl from unconsciousness, and threw her into a world unknown.

Her sight was obscured by patches of black. She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand and to her horror, discovered it covered in dried blood. She fell back with a gasp, wiping her hands on the dirt beneath her, hoping to rid herself of it all.

But there was too much. Her eyes fluttered with earnest confusion and the tears streamed down her sullied face.

She sobbed as the woman’s screams echoed in her memory. She called out, hoping the woman was nearby. Did the scream belong to her mother? Where was she? Why was she all alone, and where did all the blood come from?

She rocked, trembling as she wept. Her legs and torso were crimson, as if she’d bathed in a pool of blood.

Her dress, torn and tattered, was stained so heavily that any trace of its original colour was unrecognisable. She felt uncomfortable and stiff, and when she moved, the dried layer of blood flaked off her skin. The smell made her scrunch up her nose. She grabbed fistfuls of dirt to scrub herself with, though the dirt did little to help, she managed to scrape off some of the dried blood. It was everywhere; in her hair, her clothes, and even in her shoes. She slipped off the brown leather boots and tossed them aside.

She sucked in a shaky breath and pressed her hands to the sides of her head. The woman’s screams were beginning to fade like a dream that was slipping away, but the ache it left was all too real. Her head throbbed and she wanted it to stop. It was all too much to bear. But with the ache came more questions. Why did she remember a scream? Was there something dangerous coming after her? Why had she been abandoned? And more worrisome, whose blood was she covered in? She felt herself all over, and despite the layer of dirt and blood, she found no sores. The only pain was the one in her belly. It grumbled as she thought of it, as if agreeing with her.

She looked round properly for the first time and found she was sitting in some kind of hole. Above her was something brown and rough, and it surrounded her in thick winding limbs that disappeared into the ground. There were strange noises coming from the darkness outside, and it frightened her, not knowing what or where they were coming from. Whistling-chirping-scratching-whaling... was it the wind... bugs... or monsters?

Her belly grumbled again and she held it, trying to hush it. She wanted to stay in her hole. It made her feel safe and invisible.

Her stomach seemed to have a mind of its own, and she felt the pain of hunger like an annoying, nagging companion. She crawled to the edge of the hole and peered out, looking for any signs of danger. For the longest time, she waited, jumpy and nervous, picturing the foulest forms of monsters appearing from the dark. She imagined them grabbing her, and dragging her out of the hole towards their nightmarish dens, but it never happened. She never saw any beasts or scary monsters, only a cricket that jumped down in front of her and rubbed its legs together to chirp. She nudged it with her fingers and it jumped away. If something as small as that cricket could wander around without fear of monsters, then she could too.

She took a deep breath, and then another and crawled out of the hole. She stood statue still, wondering if now would be the time the monsters would jump out. She looked round, wide eyed and lips pressed together, and found it wasn’t so scary after all.

Enormous wide trees surrounded her as far as the eye could see. They had many long branches that were covered in bushy leaves, and they towered over her; blocking out the sky. Traces of light streamed through the branches and illuminated the mulch covered ground. A light fog drifted by and with it, a gentle but chilling breeze.

She gulped as the cold touch of the breeze sent goose bumps erupting along her arms and legs.

The faint light cast strange shapes in the treetops and made the branches look like teeth baring down on her. The forest, it seemed, was ready to swallow her whole.

She looked back to the hole she had climbed out of, and considered crawling back inside. She realised that the hole had been beneath a great big tree. The thick roots, not limbs after all, twisted into the ground in such a way that an alcove was formed under the stump. Now that she was outside, she saw that her hole was perfectly hidden. She wondered if it had been what kept her safe from whatever made the woman scream. Now that she was outside, she felt terribly vulnerable.

If it had not been for the nagging grumble in her belly, she would have happily crawled back inside her hole. There she could wait for her mother or father to come and get her.

They might not know where I am.

She could end up waiting a very long time for someone to find her, and she was very hungry.

She planned to return to the hole after she found something to eat. She could sleep and wait safely in her hole for her parents. She thought it was a good idea.

Hello? she called out timidly, scuffing a foot and tugging on her dress. Is anyone there?

She waited but there was no response. She hugged her arms round herself. Then mustering all of her courage, she began to walk.

The forest was strange and eerie. The trees swayed although there was hardly any wind at all. The fog seemed to follow her and lingered at her back, as if the forest itself was breathing down her neck.

She spotted an owl with a rat in its beak and watched it shyly. It stared back at her with large yellow eyes and swallowed the rat whole. She knew the owl was too small to eat her, but the way it watched her made her nervous, and she hurried along.

There were many noises in the forest, and she tried find the source of each one to ease her nerves. There were fluffy tailed grey possums, and beetles with rainbow carapaces. Lumpy fat toads sat upon spotted toadstools and croaked at her as she passed.

She walked straight, taking care never to turn, so that she would not lose her way when she returned to the hole. She kept an eye out for anything she could eat, but nothing seemed good enough. There were orange berries that smelt weird when she squished them between her fingers, and flat spongy mushrooms that grew on the sides of the tree trunks. When she pulled up thick weeds, hoping they belonged to vegetables, she found nothing but thin brown roots. There wasn’t any fruit in the trees either, at least none that she could see.

It was useless. She was tired and her feet ached. She decided to return to her hole and began the disappointing trudge back. She must have walked further than she realised, for it seemed like hours had passed, and she still hadn’t found her hole. Panic began to set in and she ran, desperately wishing to find her hole and curl up; safe and hidden.

Tears rushed down her cheeks. She was hopelessly lost.

Every tree looked exactly like the last, every bush the same shape and every boulder had the same patches of moss. She was going in circles, she had to be.

She found a broken branch and dragged it behind her while she walked, trailing a thin line in the mulch. After a short while, her fears were realised. A few steps ahead of her, was a thin drag line in the ground. She glanced behind her and it was the same as the trail she was making.

She dropped the branch and rubbed her eyes as she sobbed in defeat. She was trapped. How could she ever leave this place? She was starving and alone and there was no one to help her.

I want to go home! she cried. There was nothing she wanted more in the world, than to leave that retched place and put the horror behind her. To curl up in her mother’s arms, and have some warm food in her belly. It wasn’t fair. The forest had no right to keep her there, lost and alone.

Distressed and scared, she kicked the nearest tree. Pain erupted over her toes. She howled in pain, hopping on one foot and clutching the other in her hands. She picked up her stick and whacked the tree.

You horrid, horrid forest. Let me out! Let me out!

The stick snapped and all she was left with was a tiny stump. Her bottom lip trembled. It was all so unfair.

She sunk down against the trunk and hugged her knees to her chest. The tree shivered as if to nudge her off and she jumped up in surprise. A movement caught her eye and she turned round to catch another tree shifting. She was too scared to move, so she watched, and waited, for the monsters to come and eat her.

Then the tree blinked. It actually blinked. At first there was only one pale green eye, and then there were two. The branches shook, and the long grass near it moved in unison. A slender, grassy leg separated from the tree, followed by three more. The creature moved away from the trunk slowly, like one just woken up, and was trying to find their balance.

It was a green stag. His body and legs were covered in grass with patches of moss on his rear. His head appeared to be covered in bark, and his tail and antlers looked like tree branches with tufts of leaves growing on the ends.

02_Forest%20Stag.jpg

-Forest Stag-

The stag snorted and brushed the ground with a hoof before looking up at her. For a long moment they both stood motionless and silent, waiting for the other to do something.

It was the stag that broke the gaze first. He trotted away, seemingly bored with her presence.

Wait! she said, rushing after him.

He stopped again, to look at her, and she gazed up at his antlers in awe. He looked gentle. His pale green eyes seemed as curious as she felt, and his grassy fur looked wonderfully soft. He was much taller than she was, for she was only as tall as his legs, and could easily duck under his belly if she wanted to.

I’m looking for something to eat. Can you help me?

The stag ducked his head down to sniff her, and licked her face. She giggled and then the stag turned and walked away.

She liked the strange, grassy stag, and not wanting to be alone, she followed it. She was not as fast as him, but when she lagged behind, the stag stopped for her. Or at least that was what she chose to believe. Every now and again he would pause to nibble at the ground or sniff the air. If he was leading her somewhere, he was surely taking his time.

Eventually, the stag came to a halt on a ledge – a boulder jutting out from the hill – and stared off into the distance. He seemed entranced by whatever he was looking at, and didn’t seem to notice her come up next to him.

What are you staring at?

All she could see was the complicated mass of entwined trees, and the shadows they produced.

After a while, she sat down. The stag hadn’t moved, so she was free to stare at his grass legs. They seemed so soft, kind of like green fur. She reached out to touch it. To her surprise, the stag remained perfectly still. No wonder it blended into the trees so well.

A thump in the distance broke her day dream. She peered under the stag to see where the noise had come from.

All was silent – save for the chirping crickets, and stray hoot of an owl nearby. A whole minute passed before she heard it again, but she couldn’t see where it came from.

Maybe it’s a monster. He’s brought me here, to feed me to it! She jumped to her feet, but the stag seemed to sense her intentions. He shifted and lowered his head so that his antlers blocked her path.

Then she heard it again. She flinched at the sound of the great big thump and tentatively looked over her shoulder.

The trees were moving again. Two massive trunks thumped onto the ground, the roots buried into the soil and then ripped away as the trunks rose again. There was a round body on top of the trunks, made of tangled vines and bark, and long branches swayed like arms, pulling itself through the trees that were too stubborn to get out of its way. Parts of the tree monster’s body glowed, and other parts dripped with sap.

03_Tree%20Monster.jpg

-Tree Monster-

What is that?

The stag turned away and trotted off. She wanted the stag to stay with her, she didn’t want to be left alone again.

She thought the forest was full of monsters and she was right, but now that she could see one, she realised she wasn’t so afraid any more. The tree monster was enormous, and could quite easily crush her, but she couldn’t see a mouth anywhere on its body. As far as she was concerned, the worst thing a monster could do, was eat her. And since this one didn’t have a mouth, how dangerous could it be?

She started running after it.

She wanted to get out of the forest and find her family. The stag had been nice to her, so maybe the tree monster would be nice too.

The ground thumped with each of the tree monster’s steps.

Her chest burned and her legs ached, but she refused to give up.

If she could climb up onto its head, maybe she’d be able to see a way out of the forest. Maybe the tree monster could carry her out of the forest. There was only one way to find out.

As she got closer to monster, she was forced to dive out of the way, as one of the legs came down above her. The trunk slammed into the ground, only barely missing her toes. The roots dug hungrily into the soil.

She pushed herself up off the ground, dusted the front of her dress and huffed. She could do this.

She jumped onto the trunk and dug her toes into the gaps in the vines. The roots snapped as the trunk rose again, lifting high up into the air.

She screamed as the wind rushed past her face, and she hugged the trunk tighter. She had a moment of calm when the trunk paused in the air and then she opened her eyes and looked round her. The forest didn’t look so scary from up here. The leafy boughs looked more like cushions, fluffy and soft. She could see the stars, winking in the sky, and the bright crescent moon, smiling down at her. A sudden surge of encouragement washed over her.

Upon closer inspection, she could see the tree-trunk leg was thinner on the inside than it had first appeared. The overlapping vines made the leg appear thicker, and there was a narrow gap between the trunk and the wall of vines. She could climb up easier from the inside. She started to wiggle through a gap when the leg suddenly lurched forwards.

She screamed as the leg plummeted towards the ground. Her stomach rose and fell. She gripped the roots so tightly her fingers hurt.

When the trunk thumped the ground, she lost her grip and fell backwards. She clamped her eyes shut and screamed. She walloped against the side of the trunk and she opened her eyes. She was dangling upside down, with both her feet stuck in between the vines. She heard the snapping roots and quickly groped at the vines for a hold. She closed her eyes as the wind rushed over her again, and her stomach lurched. When the trunk paused again, she quickly pulled herself upright and wiggled into the gap. From there, she was able to climb up the trunk and stop for breath without the risk of falling off.

When she climbed as high as she could go, she pushed through a gap in the vines and clambered up onto the monster’s body. There was a flattened spot where the edges curved up like a shallow tub. She collapsed onto her back with arms spread out, her chest rising and falling quickly, her heart hammering in her chest.

From here, she could see that her first impression of the monster was false. Its body wasn’t rounded at all. There were two body parts stacked together, like a snowman. The bottom half was larger, and elongated to balance out the legs while the second half was shaped like a dome.

She was too tired to climb any more. She closed her eyes and sighed. The monster’s movements weren’t so jolting from up here. It felt more like gentle swaying. It was comforting, like being rocked in her mother’s arms.

She forgot her troubles for the moment, wanting only to sleep. She could finish climbing later. Her parents would understand if she stopped for a rest. After all, she’d earnt it.

She curled up on her side and rubbed her sore, cold feet together.

It was warmer in the hole. She missed that.

Something tickled her foot and she kicked out her leg. Then something touched her torso.

Her eyes shot open as soon as the vines began to coil round her. They constricted like a python; strangling its prey.

She screamed and squirmed. The more she fought, the tighter the vines became till she couldn’t move at all. The vines dragged her over to the edge and dangled her in the air. She saw the ground far below and screamed.

2

BLOOD THIEF

S he awoke to the sting of leaves lashing her face. She screamed and threw up her arms in defence.

Don’t eat me! she hollered.

The lashing stopped but she was too afraid to open her eyes. Had the tree finished eating her? Was she in its stomach?

Eat ya? the voice sounded old and hoarse. Why the good grub would I eat ya? Ya filthy!

Curious to see how the tree monster was talking, she braved a look. But it was no leafy tree monster that she saw before her – it was an old woman.

The old woman was hunched over her with a bundle of leaves in one hand. She had wrinkly brown skin with dark patchy spots on the backs of her hands and sides of her face. Her long grey hair was draped over her shoulder in a loose braid, with bits of leaves and twigs poking through the knots. A cricket was perched on the haggard woman’s shoulder, but it disappeared into her mess of hair. Her eyes, both wild and a little crazed, were a greyish blue; as if the vibrant colour had drained away with the passing years. Atop her head, was a brown woven hat, with mushrooms growing along the brim. It matched the tattered brown dress she had on, for the texture on both seemed like a dark spongy moss. The old woman’s fingernails, and toenails (for she was barefoot), were long and yellowed, and looked like claws.

04_Saffie.jpg

-Saffie-

The old woman slapped her in the face with the bundle of leaves. Quit ya starin, I hate when them people stares at me.

S-sorry, I didn’t mean to. You look so odd.

I ain’t odd lookin. Yar the odd lookin one, she slapped her again with the leaves.

Stop that!

I’ll stop when I wanna stop, little red grub, she huffed. What are ya doin ere anyways? I ain’t got no riches. Well?

I...

She couldn’t understand why the old woman was being so mean.

I’m sorry, she said sobbing.

Stop that! Nah I don’t like it. Stop it right now…. Jingles!

A gentle ring of a bell answered the old woman.

Jingles put a stop to this nonsense. She tossed her leaves on the ground and clapped her hands. The floor beneath the old woman started to change. Vines sprung out from beneath her and twisted together to form the shape of a rocking chair. The old woman eased herself into it. A single vine dragged a basket along the floor and stopped at her side. She took out knitting needles and a bundle of moss and starting knitting.

Jingles, hush her up will ya?

There was a jingle of a bell and then suddenly, a little white creature appeared before her. She yelped in surprise. It looked like a pudgy, fluffy, white bat. He twitched his pink nose and fluttered away, only to return, carrying a small pot in his feet. His little wings beat the air furiously, struggling to stay afloat with the weight of the pot. The old woman took the pot from him and waited while he fetched a teacup. She then poured out a lumpy liquid and offered it with an outstretched hand.

05_Jingles.jpg

-Jingles-

Well? Are ya gonna take it or not? Jingles seemed to think ya be hungry.

The white bat fluttered over. He bounced up and down in the air causing the bell round his neck to chime. The little girl wiped her eyes to see him better and smiled. He was rather cute.

The bat flew over to the basket beside the old woman and disappeared.

Where did he go?

He wears a bell; ’cause I wouldn’t have a hope findin him if he didn’t. He changes colours, ya see. Makes him blend. The old woman shook her head as if remembering how inconvenient it could be. Hardly any company even when he’s there ya know?

She looked down at the cup in her hands. A grey lump floated to the surface and bobbed round in the finely chopped leaves. Wh-what is this?

Stewed bry leaf, the old woman answered in a frustrated tone, as if it were the most stupid question anyone could ask. When she noticed girl’s hesitation to drink, she added, It’s like tea. Only it’s bitter and lumpy. I used tree sap to sweeten it. Go on then, it ain’t poisoned.

She brought the cup to her face and sniffed. It smelt surprisingly sweet. She took a small sip and let the warm liquid sit on her tongue before she swallowed. It wasn’t bad. She sucked the rest down as quickly as she could, but when the lumpy thing reached her mouth, she spat it out straight away.

Yuck. What was that?

Grub, the old woman replied simply. Fat little things that hide in the ground near the roots of trees. Gives it that nice tangy flavour. She plucked a grey grub out of the pot with her long fingernails and dropped it in her mouth.

Ya know it’s rude to trespass, the old woman said, while topping up the girl’s cup again. This time, she plucked out the grub and ate it before handing the cup back.

Tress-pars?

The old woman rolled her eyes. Yeah. Trespass. This ere is my home and ya don’t belong ere. That’s what it means.

I didn’t know anyone lived inside the tree monster. Did it eat you too? She dropped her chin, letting a curtain of hair fall over her face.

Eaten, by a tree? the old woman looked at her with wide, unblinking eyes, then she burst into laughter as if it were the funniest thing anyone could say. Ya ain’t been eaten. Take a look round, red grub. Ya’ll see.

A warm amber glow lit up the belly of the tree. Many lanterns were strewn around; some hung from above while other rested upon the floor. The belly – or should she call it a room – looked exactly as any person would expect – or could expect, given that any person would think a tree had a stomach in the first place.

It was covered in bark, old and dark, with deep creases like the wrinkles of the old withered woman. Soft, spongy moss covered areas in patches, and creeper vines twisted between the lines in the bark and up the walls.

The old woman waved a hand, and in response to her movement, one of the lanterns glided along the ceiling. There, it illuminated a small wooden table. The legs were wrapped in vines and flowers, and it looked as if it had grown straight from the floor. On the far wall was a large black cauldron. It had been propped over a small fire that was kept contained by a low wall of rocks. There were cupboards of varying shapes and sizes that lined one wall, that; like the table, also looked to have grown straight out of the wall; for it was covered in bark and moss.

Nearby was an arched doorway that had long wide leaves draped over it so no one could see what was beyond.

Do ya like it? the old woman asked nonchalant.

How do you live inside a tree monster?

The old woman sighed. It be no monster, red grub. It be magic, see?

Her puzzlement must have been clear on her face for the old woman continued.

I used magic to turn this ere tree into my home – though it was already good and alive before I got to it.

What do you mean?

Come ere, take a seat.

As she came near, the old woman clapped her hands and a wooden chair sprouted straight out of the floor. Where were we... ah, yeah. She shuffled in her rocking chair and leaned closer. The trees be alive, like all things. Well not all things... I s’pose rocks aren’t alive... and well neither are the boogers in my nose...

She giggled and the old woman smiled again.

But most things, ya see, they have soul. And that’s very important. Souls are what make us... well, us.

What’s a soul? she asked, while holding out her cup for more. The old woman filled it up and when she spotted another grub floating on top, she plucked it out gingerly, and handed it over. The old woman gobbled it down, very much like the owl that ate the rat.

A soul... the old woman mulled over the thought. I’d show ya one, but I can’t. Cause they’re there, see? But they’re not there. Get it?

Before she could say no, the old woman spoke again.

Of course, ya do! Ya be a smart lil one.

But... if you can’t see them, how do you know they’re there?

Simple. How do ya know ya face is there? Can ya see it?

She was stumped by the question. Of all the worries she had, the old woman posed a new one.

She longed for her parents, even though she couldn’t remember their faces or their names. She wanted to know why she was left all alone in the forest, and why she was covered in dry blood. But while she had all the fear of being abandoned and the worry of not remembering, she had never stopped to ask who she was. She didn’t even know what her own face looked like. Was it wrinkly like the old woman’s? Was it brown, or was it just dirty?

I... her voice trembled as she tried not to cry again. I don’t know what I look like.

The old woman stared at her for a long time, trying to decide if she was playing a trick on her. Ain’t ya ever seen ya face? Well it’s awfully red. Not healthy to have the blood on the outside of ya body. But I ain’t the judge. Ya do what ya like.

I... she sucked in a shaky breath and rubbed her eyes. I don’t think it’s mine.

Not ya blood? the old woman’s voice squeaked as she spoke. Well it’s not nice to go stealin other people’s blood. They darn well need it.

I don’t know whose it is, she said. Tears rolled down her cheeks and her nose ran. She sniffled and wiped her nose on the back of her hand.

Now, now, settle down my lil blood thief. How about we put ya in the cauldron, ay?

Please don’t eat me! she shrieked.

The old woman cackled and lifted herself out of the chair. Jingles, did ya hear that? She thinks I’m gonna cook her. Ain’t that a laugh? Don’t ya go worryin ’bout your skin. Jingles and I only eat the plants, see. Them and the grubs. And you’re far too scrawny to make a proper meal anyways. I’m just gonna give ya a wash. Then we can see what ya s’posed to look like.

The cauldron was already full of warm water. The old woman swirled her hand round in the water and turned to face the girl.

We need to get those filthy rags off. I can try washin em if ya like, but they’ll be needin a fixin too. How ’bout I just make ya a new dress? Would ya like that?

She nodded, managing a small smile.

"Please. Can’t go forgettin the pleases and thankyas. If ya want somethin done, then it’s please. After it’s done, it’s thankya. Got it?"

She nodded again. Yes, please, she replied shyly.

Go on then, take em off. We’re both ladies ere. And don’t worry ’bout lil Jingles. Animals don’t care if yar naked or not. People are strange to them either way.

She pulled off her dress and tossed it on the ground and shivered. A lump caught in her throat when she saw the red and brown cloth lying crumpled on the floor. Was that how she looked? Dirtied and frail, like an old dress?

The old woman doused the fire and lifted her up into the cauldron with a groan. Then they both worked on scrubbing off the blood and dirt. They used floral smelling soap and a coarse wiry sponge that left her skin feeling raw and sore. Her hair needed to be washed three times over, and brushed through with a stone comb. It seemed to take forever, but eventually she was clean enough for the old woman to no longer think that her insides were on the outside.

She dried off with a leaf sewn towel, and then the old woman pulled a cotton-like tunic over her head. It was far too big for her, for it came almost to her toes, but she didn’t mind. She was happy to be wearing something clean and soft.

I made this from fluff-puff weeds, the old woman commented, as she smoothed out the tunic. Takes hundreds of em it does. But it’s worth it. Like a cuddle from a hundred bunny tails, she chuckled and her nose wrinkled. She led the girl by the hand over to the chairs and sat her down. Then, she wrapped a soft blanket of moss round her shoulders.

Well, now we know yar okay. Not a scratch or bruise on ya. Pretty lucky, but not so lucky for whoever’s blood ya stole.

She didn’t feel lucky at all. She hoped that she was having a bad dream and soon she’d wake up in a warm bed with her mother watching over her. The old woman wandered around the room looking for something and the little girl peeked inside the basket by the rocking chair, and wondered if the bat was still there.

Ere we go, said the old woman, thrusting something towards her.

It was a small, long handled mirror. She held it face down in her lap, and looked down, frowning. What would she see? Would she recognise her own face? Would she look like the old woman; wrinkly and brown, or would she have an ugly face like a monster?

I don’t want to.

What are ya afraid of, lil blood thief?

I don’t think I’ll like it. What if I’m scary looking?

How will ya know if ya don’t look? And ya shouldn’t be afraid of somethin just ’cause it might look strange to ya. There’s lots of things that look different or scary, but that ain’t mean it is. Were ya afraid of this ere home when ya first saw it?

The tree monster?

The old woman nodded.

It was big and scary.

Well then why did ya climb it?

It didn’t look mean. I thought it could help me.

Yar reflection’s the same, see? It might frighten ya at first, but it’s not gonna hurt ya.

She took a deep breath and tightened her grip on the handle. The old woman was right. She had to look. She closed her eyes and turned the mirror over. For a moment she waited, wishing and hoping that she would see someone familiar, and not the face of a monster. Then she slowly opened her eyes. The face that stared back was not one she knew.

Her skin was fair, with faint freckles across her nose, and her cheeks were rosy. Her hair, wavy and soft, was silvery white, and rested atop her shoulders. Her nose was small, and her face was heart-shaped. Her eyes were big and questioning, shaped like almonds, and greenish blue like turquoise. She tucked her hair behind one ear and inspected the side of her face. Even from that angle, her reflection seemed alien to her. Her ears were oddly shaped; pointed at the tip with intricate canals. And she hadn’t noticed before, but tethered to a thin braid on the left side of her head were three beautiful, long feathers. They were black, but when angled towards the light, they shimmered with an iridescent mixture of colour; blue, purple, green, and gold. She touched them tenderly.

Did you put them there?

That ain’t me. In a knot in ya hair, they were. I put em back in after I brushed all the knots out. Pretty, ay?

I don’t know this face, she said sombrely whilst placing the mirror face down on the floor.

Well it be a very pretty one.

I don’t know who I am.

Admitting the truth out loud was too much to bear. Her face crumpled and she sobbed quietly into her hands.

The old woman rushed over with a lavender cake in hand. She offered it, with a nudge, and rubbed the little girl’s back. Ya sure are talkin gibberish.

A squeaking critter’s noise at the window had the old woman rushing away. Grumbling, she scooped an armful of pine cones that were gathered in basket, and hurtled them out the window.

Get outta ere ya pesky possums! she hollered. I ain’t gonna tell ya again! Ya ain’t gettin my nuts! She hissed like a cat and spat out the window as she threw the pine cones, until the squeaking critters were gone. With a triumphant huff she turned away from the window and they locked eyes. Her face was one of utter surprise.

How’d ya get in ere? Ya trespassin? the old woman rushed over to her bundle of leaves on the floor but before she could attack, Jingles flew at her face causing her to stop in her tracks.

"What do ya