chapter one

18 Years Later*

Calloused and cut but youthful hands plunged into the river. A reflection rippled across its watery surface, revealing a young woman with fair skin and short choppy auburn hair. Her hair would have been longer if her father hadn't forcibly cut it short. It wasn't the only thing he had cut. The girl had a nasty one right across her eye, her face having gotten too close to the belt he had used on her a half hour earlier. He had tried to take care of where he left the bruises, mostly on what could be covered by her threadbare clothing. Her father was one of the most prominent alpine immigrants in town and grew the best crops, and he had a reputation to uphold in the church. His useless stupid girl as he called her would be punished with more force if anyone found out the treatment his youngest was receiving on that farm. Her eyes were red with tears but they were silent. She was silent, partially because obedience had been beaten into her, and mostly because she had never learned to speak. She had learned however from a very young age that making one wrong noise meant a smack in the face, so she stayed quiet. She had never spoken another word since her first, and the last time she had tried when she was alone, she opened her mouth and just couldn't do it. No sound came. And she took care not to make any other vocalization.

She hadn't known what she had done this time to incur his wrath. She had done all of the chores like he asked. She had fetched him his pipe and had made supper. And afterwards had gone back outside to feed the hogs and the other livestock. It didn't often matter that much. She was just a disappointment to him. He looked for transgressions. Her sister could do no wrong but she apparently did everything wrong. This time Elizabeth had apparently walked into the room disrespectfully when it was time to bring him his ale. When he dragged her out behind the barn her mother had ignored her as if she didn't see it and her sister smirked. The beatings were getting worse every day as crops became harder to raise. Something was happening on the land that made crops harder and animals and people sick. And of course any frustration her father had was taken out on her. He's just frustrated. She thought to herself. It was probably my fault. After all, the Bible did say "spare the rod, spoil the child." However, she wasn't spoiled. For the last eighteen years she had been starved and abused. And she was so neglected that she looked only a little older than fourteen, maybe fifteen because of her small stature.

The pain of the whipping would fade eventually. But she couldn't lay down. Not yet. Now that her family had gone to bed it was time to finally take care of herself. She had washed herself in the river and now it was time for a meager attempt to find food. There would be no sleeping inside tonight or supper. Her unknown transgression had caused her the loss of those privileges. She was used to it, for she had spent many a night sleeping in the barn or the field when it was warm. Sometimes she actually preferred it. It was quiet outside and she could be among her only friends, the animals. With her family so angry with her and being not permitted to leave the farm without permission, animals became the source of her company and comfort. She took care of them as if they were her own family for many years, and she appreciated how they never judged or treated her harshly. Even with her being non verbal she could still communicate with them. They all loved her in ways that no human ever could. They seemed to look up at her in pure admiration and awe, and for some reason even bowed to her. Sometimes she could swear that she could hear them speaking. Quite frankly, she might as well be one.

That was the reason for her next plan. On Fridays during Lent, her family had fish. And there were usually leftovers. Her family had never respected the land they lived upon, especially her spoiled sister. God forbid the princess should eat a bony fish, Elizabeth thought bitterly to herself. Her grown older sister had taken one bite and thrown it into the rubbish. And that was exactly where Elizabeth had found it. All it needed was to be cleaned off a bit, but most of the meat was still there. It made her salivate, much like an animal. She hadn't eaten a bite since the day before, and that was but a small slice of bread. What Elizabeth lacked in physical strength and apparently beauty in her fathers eyes she made up for in cleverness. A fish found in the trash may have not looked like much, but to her it was a banquet. She was just about to make a fire in a secluded area to heat it when she heard a series of pitiful mewls. She looked behind the rubbish pile to where a thin and bedraggled black cat was standing protectively over four tiny kittens. Her brown eyes grew soft. It wasn't uncommon for strays to roam around the farm looking for food. But with the way things were these days, even mice were scarce. Elizabeth let out a sigh looking guiltily at the fish she was holding. She bit her lip. Any hunger she had was replaced by worry and guilt. Some stray cats and dogs were lucky to attract human sympathy with the village. However, Just like the feared legendary lady in black that was said to roam these lands, they were superstitious about any animal with a black pelt. The dark one she could understand but a little animal? Quite frankly among many of the tenants of the church she didn't agree with, she thought it was ridiculous. It was just another excuse not to practice what one preached. Regardless, this poor mother cat would never be fed. She knew what she had to do. She loved all animals but cats were among her favorites.

Saying one last mournful inner goodbye to her meal, she crouched down on all fours, her palms touching the earth. For some reason, touching the earth always gave her a sensation of warmth, energy and comfort. And she wanted the cat to trust her. The she cat though didn't seem afraid, but shook her head and looked upon her with soft eyes. As Elizabeth nudged her dinner towards the hungry mother cat with her nose, the black cat shook her head. Once again, Elizabeth ignored the hunger that bit into her like a predator and nudged the fish forward. With shining eyes full of emotion that humans didn't think capable, the she cat butted her head against Elizabeth's and took the fish into her jaws. Perhaps out of an overactive imagination, the girl could swear that she had heard her speak inside her head. "Thank you, your majesty." Once again, the cat seemed to bow. Shaking her head to ward off the hallucination and dizziness from hunger, Elizabeth picked up the mother cat and her kittens inside her threadbare shawl and went into the hay loft. Several other stray dogs and cats were staying there with her, hidden away from her parents eyes. The horses, cattle and sheep below whinnied, bleated and lowed a sympathetic but warm greeting towards their human friend. Some of them too had been beaten by her father earlier in the week. Elizabeth had gotten into severe trouble for trying to stop him from doing so. Out of all the beatings she had gotten over the years, that one was worth it. She was no coward when it came to protecting the animals.

The dogs and cats crowded around their human friend, pawing and rubbing against her with wagging tails and friendly chirrups. For the first time that day, she had smiled through her tears. She placed the mother cat and her kittens on the hay and grunted to introduce them. Now that the day was done, it was finally time to rest. Old Chief, an old hunting dog that was grumpy in his own right to most(and she couldn't blame him one bit as his master, her father wanted to throw him off the farm when he broke his leg) lay down beside her while he let out grunts and growls as he pretended to be the grumpiest thing alive. She lay down amongst her friends, grunting and letting out soft whimpers from the stinging of the cuts on her back and backside and the bruises everywhere else. There seemed to be more aches in her back and legs these days. Sometimes the sudden waves of pain and weakness frightened her. For terrible fleeting moments she wondered if it meant sickness, but soon dismissed it as just the cost of hard labor, frequent beatings and not eating enough. And if she was sick, what did it matter? She'd never be allowed to rest and she certainly couldn't tell anyone about it. No one would comfort her. No one would care.

She tried to ignore the pain in her body and the hunger in her stomach, for now was the time to do what she had wanted to do all day. A while ago, her sister had gotten some new art supplies from the local merchant. She was given finishing schooling to make her more attractive to marry. Which meant that the old supplies were chucked. Creativity allowed Elizabeth to truly escape her awful reality. She loved two kinds of weaving the most, weaving with fabric, fibers and thread(spinning yarn was the one chore she never loathed), and weaving stories. Through some of her sisters discarded picture libraries she had learned about things like castles as well as animals who lived in far off places. Her favorites were the lions. Using charcoal, she began to draw on the parchment, creating pictures of the stories she wanted to tell her friends. Even mutes could draw a picture. Stories of lions, hyenas, warthogs and zebras as well as a great kingdom ruled by a lion came to life in her drawings. The animals gathered around her, and for a moment she forgot her pain. She did not know the truth that those stories held. But for those beautiful moments, she gave herself and the animals hope.

But she soon became fatigued. The animals were falling asleep. And now the hardest part of the night came. She lay back on the straw as the hurt of the day stung her again, this time inside as well as out. Her heart was bleeding just as much as her back. She silently began to cry. The reality of the situation once again reared its ugly head. Why did her family have to treat her this way? What had she ever done to deserve this? Was there ever a time when they didn't hate her? She had always been obedient and a hard worker, but that never seemed to matter. No matter how barely treated, one thing she wanted more than anything was their love. Fear also built up within her. What if she really was sick? What if her father's wrath got worse? And with this famine, how would she keep the strays all fed without starving, especially with the incoming winter? Would she have to hunt again? She hated hunting. She hated killing the innocent. Hot tears flooded her face as she tried to disguise her sniffling.

Through the blurring of tears she could see the night sky through the hole in the barn roof. A bright blue star stood out among all the others. She had heard stories of Rheul Ghorm, a good fairy who granted wishes. Elizabeth had always been the sort, unlike the rest of her family to have an open mind. So perhaps in desperation and through silent tears she begged inside her own head. Help me. Please take me away from here. Please help me. I beg of you…save the animals. And if you can..save me too. She didn't know if she would be answered, but it was better than praying to a god who seemed to only want to punish her. But as the fatigue of the day caught up with her, and knowing that in sleep she could avoid the pain and hunger, she let herself drift off, surrounded by the purrs and snores and soft knickers of her friends. Some of the cats curled up right with her to keep warm. Before she fell asleep, Elizabeth thought she saw a black cloak of fabric sweeping across the sky, and swore that she saw two amber eyes glowing in the darkness, watching her with it was one of the cats or a strand of hay, but after she closed her eyes, she could feel a claw gently brushing her cheek. Afterwards, she fell asleep with an odd sensation of safety and peace.

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