Grian Ainnin. (Sun Maiden).

[iCurrie]

Prologue

'Don't ye go thinking ye'll git away from me,' Lilibeth snarled.

A fragrant breeze caused the towering elms and the whimsical birches to sway and toss their richly adorned heads. The pale stone cottage with its straw thatched roof stood sturdily amongst the trees, a squat grandmother whom had been watching their frivolous behaviour for many seasons.

Lilibeth tottered and puffed after a rambunctious chicken, growling and grumbling without cease. Her grey streaked chestnut hair struggling from its fierce bun and her failing eyes squinting against the dimness of the forest.

A hesitant knock startled Lilibeth out of her narrow minded pursuit and with a huff and a glare at her hen, she started off around the side of her cottage, picking her way through the patches of vibrant white wood anemone, dainty yellow iris and the sky blue forget-me-nots that clung thickly to the edge of a chuckling stream that passed close to the cottage's side.

Through Lilibeth's heavy breathing she managed to call out a quick reprimand, 'Henry, ye quite well know to let yerself in through the back! Ye silly old man!'

Her reproof however, went unheeded for when she rounded the corner there was not a soul in sight. Lilibeth stopped in surprise, her eyes searching for a sign of anyone. 'Of course ye won't see anyone ye old bat, ye eyesight's bad as bad can git,' she muttered to herself.

She gingerly waded through the thick shrubbery, making a beeline for her front door, hoping that perhaps there she would gain some insight on who had disturbed her. Lilibeth passed through the last shrub to be greeted with a sight that made her breath catch in her throat and her hand pass to her mouth, trembling and fluttering like a bewildered butterfly.

She knelt down by the tiny writhing parcel, and cradled it gently against her bosom. The tattered rags smelt like fresh earth and wet grass, a thin mewling emanating from it.

Lilibeth lifted her eyes and searching once again the dense forest saw a thin, pale face half obscured by leaves, clothed in a crimson cape and a deep blue kirtle. Lilibeth called out to the figure, but with a hunted expression the woman turned and ran, not once looking back.

Lilibeth walked inside with a heavy heart, and slowly sunk into her chair. 'Who?' She whispered, puzzled. She distractedly rocked herself and the child back and forth.

Lilibeth felt the rags fall against her fingers before she looked down, she was greeting by a crown of hair the colour of sunrise, a living flame that swayed gently in the draft from an open window and Lilibeth's eyes widened in shock for never had she seen such a sight. She smoothed her hand gently over the little girl's hair, delighting in its rich colour; tears clung to her crinkled cheeks in the memory of her own little one who had passed away so long before.

'Well, little one, ye cannae be more than a few seasons old. I dinnae now how an old crone like me'll look after ye. I do wish ye would look at me, so as I could see ye eyes, those that match ye autumn hair.' The child however, was unresponsive, lulled to sleep with the rocking of Lilibeth's chair.

Lilibeth sighed and heaved herself out of her chair as smoothly as she could, singing softly an Elmarish folk song. She carefully gathered ferns, soft dried mosses and grasses for the girl's bed, draping a clean cloth over the carefully shaped pile.

#

A scuffling of feet warned Lilibeth that Henry had finally made it back home; she had begun to fret, as the stars were beginning to bloom in the sky and the moon was casting its matronly gaze upon the landscape. A tired smile creased the sun-browned, weathered face of an old man, his arms outstretched towards his beloved.

'Hello darling, I hope that bother of a hen didn't give you too much trouble today.'

Lilibeth murmured a reply into his shoulder, breathing in the scent of sunshine and cattle before pulling away, her expression grave and concerned. 'Henry, I have quite a surprise for ye.' With that she took his callused hand in hers and led him into their small quarters, she watched his eyes settle on the makeshift cot and his body stiffened. Lilibeth rubbed his shoulder in support, 'Is everythin' okay dear?'

Henry walked forward and his eyes darted warily back to his wife, 'How did she come here?'

'A woman brought her.'

'Who?'

'I dinnae know Henry, she darted through the trees like a hunted doe with her baby left on our doorstep.'

Henry squinted his eyes in thought, 'how do you know it is not some trick of the eldritch?'

'Nay, tis not. She has neither the slight green pallor that their offspring do nor does she seem ill.'

Henry lost his suspicious look and chanced going closer to the child, a glimmer of a memory shone in his eyes, 'She is quite a little beauty isn't she?'

'Aye, that she is,' Lilibeth moved next to her husband and reached out a hand to caress the child's soft cheek, 'We shall call her Aileen - the light from the sun.'

With this the child sighed and her eyes flickered open for the first time, Lilibeth gasped in horror, her eyes never moving from the child's, for they were two spheres of light, the sun personified.

'It cannae be, a child of the Torluth,' she whispered.

Henry had backed away to the entrance of the room, 'I will not allow their kind in my house, from the innocent children to the cruel men,' his voice had grown hard.

Lilibeth spun to him her eyes wild in anger, tears streaming down her face, 'This child is not responsible for their crimes Henry! Ye cannae blame her for her people's mistakes,' she ended in a trembling whisper, 'she had nothing to do with our Caireann.'

Henry shook with fury, his eyes sharp with pain, 'How can you forgive them?'

'I have not forgiven them Henry, but I hold no child responsible for what they did,' Lilibeth lifted Aileen from her bed and cuddled the child to her chest, 'She is my only chance to have a daughter. I cannae give her up.'

'She will endanger us! You do not think the villagers will murder us and burn our home when they discover we have harboured Arie's greatest enemy, for they will Lilibeth, they will not spare you no matter how you have helped them in the past.'

'I will not let them see her; she will not leave this part of the forest. Henry, please. We cannae condemn her, let not that ride on yer conscience.'

Lilibeth saw Henry's shoulders cave, his eyes hollow and dark, 'She can stay for now, we will talk about this later.'

Lilibeth let her tears stay trembling on her cheeks and nuzzled the child's soft hair, 'Ye are mine now Aileen, don't ye worry. I'll not let him separate ye from me, I need ye as much as ye need me.'

Chapter 1

A slender youth spun and laughed in the sunshine, her golden-red hair tumbling over her shoulders, her amber eyes sparkling with joy. The sound of her delight reached Lilibeth as she sat mending inside the cottage; she put it aside for a moment and let herself revel in Aileen's sweet existence. She had been such a blessing to them, always dancing and swaying with a smile lighting her face. Lilibeth sighed with pleasure; she would not change a thing. Quite suddenly a dark cloud pushed its way into Lilibeth's thoughts, her joy throwing its hands into the air and running for cover. Lilibeth was afraid. She knew there would come a time when Aileen would no longer be content to be restricted to their quaint cottage in the forest, and when she broke free of her chains she would suffer.

Page 1.

[iCurrie]

A child of the Torluth in Arie would always suffer. The Torluth were war mongers, their streets stained with blood as they had stained many lands. Barely fifty winters past they came with their ships and their armies and shed terror, pain and despair in each of Arie's five countries. They pillaged and murdered for three winters before they were finally driven from this world and passing through the whirlpools in the Ocean Hades returned to their own, however the people in Arie, from all the different countries continued to fear that the Torluth would return more powerful and blood thirsty. Every stranded Torluth was humiliated, paraded down the streets with shorn hair, bleeding faces and ripped garments before being cast into the ocean without protection to be devoured by the Zeyv, carnivorous sea dwellers.

No, Aileen would be shown no kindness.

Lilibeth's reverie was broken by Aileen sashaying through the back door of the cottage, a deep purple violet tucked behind her ear. 'Mother, dearest mother.'

Lilibeth chuckled, 'What is it ye want Aileen?'

Aileen sat eagerly next to her mother, her eyes feverish, 'To ride! Oh mother, I want to see the moon lighting up the moor and see the world in deepest shadow. I don't understand why you won't let me out at night, it cannot be so bad.'

Lilibeth quickly hid her dismay at this and answered through taut lips, 'It is too dangerous Aileen, hunters roam this area at night, malevolent eldritch creatures gather in droves and the shadows jump out at you to pull your hair and scratch your face.'

'Mother please! There are so many things I long to see, imagine, the white stag's that the books speak of. Majestic beasts formed of moonbeams and stardust, I wish so dearly to see one.'

'Aileen! A white stag, they are almost as rare as unicorns and the Faêran.'

Aileen's face fell, and standing up she looked at Lilibeth coldly, 'mother, you cannot trap me here forever.'

Lilibeth watched her beloved daughter walk out behind the cottage with its wildflowers and chickens; she felt a premonition of fear but pushed it aside. Aileen would trust that she knew best, she would be safe in her bed each and every night. 'Each and every night,' Lilibeth murmured to herself reassuringly, at the same time as Aileen, who said it with a thread of bitterness and a scowl of resentment.

#

A soft snoring came from her parent's room and Aileen tiptoed across the dirt floor, fastening a thick black cloak over her shoulders, and carefully stowing talismans in the lining of her kirtle.

Sharp scented thyme, three precious unicorn hairs and a handful of bright laurel leaves linked together with a golden chain that was hung with tiny bells, Aileen smothered the bells with a dirty rag before putting them in with the thyme and hair.

The fresh night air bit into Aileen's naked face and the moon bathed the land in silver, she stepped stealthily amongst the shadows to the small shed that served as a stall for Ivie, the sweet old bay mare nickered in greeting, 'Hush girl, we have to be quiet,' Aileen desperately whispered.

Smoothing a worn cloth onto the mare's back she quickly mounted, burying her face in Ivie's mane she grinned in delight, and gently kicked her mare into a walk. They continued at this docile pace until the cottage was no longer in view and with trepidation Aileen urged Ivie faster and faster until they were cantering through the gnarled trees and even the old mare had her tail lifted in high spirits and her ears pricked forward.

However, due to the mare's age she could not carry this hearty gallivanting on for too long and soon tired, to Aileen's disappointment. With a suppressed sigh Aileen gently pulled Ivie back into a walk and all was calm until a strange wind had her hair lifting and spiralling about her head, no matter how Aileen tried to tame her hair it would continue to whip up into the air and be tugged, plucked and pulled.

'Goodness! When will this wind cease?' She said exasperatingly.

An echoing cackle surrounded Aileen like a mist, jeering in strange tongues and for the first time Aileen saw the hairy little hands that so violently tugged and threw her hair about, as she looked more studiously about her she saw creatures shaped like tiny men converging on her, their impossibly large pupils glinting in the dappled moonlight and their fur covered bodies jumping and twitching.

Aileen tried to stay as still as possible, but her heart was so frightened it almost jumped right from her chest. Her hands trembled against the reins; her feet moved ever so slowly inward, her whole body tense. One of the Beobithe's dropped down from an overhanging branch and buried its filthy hands in her cloak, its sharp teeth snapping at her neck and ears.

Aileen shrieked and with a startled squeal her dark bay mare galloped from beneath the gnarled trees and out across the moor. Aileen plunged her hand into the lining of her kirtle, pulling a small handful of thyme out she threw it in the air and shouted, 'Fear little Beobithe's, thyme will eat your hairy hands!' She felt the beobith drop from her shoulders and saw it scurrying away.

She heard the fading cackle of the Beobithe's as they prowled the forest still, and she shivered. Now she could see the dark eldritch shadows prowling under the canopy of leaves and the smaller groups gathered among the silver bathed moor.

Aileen began to relax, her shoulders growing less tense and Ivie too stopped side stepping and pigrooting at every breath of wind.

'Oh Ivie, I don't have a good feeling about this night.' The mare snorted, as if in agreeance and determinedly continued to plod through the thick grasses of the moor.

'At least most of the creatures seem to be ignoring us, hm. I'm quite sure we can relax now, can't we girl?'

A swirling music began to beat on Aileen's eardrums, pulsating against her body like a living being. It rose and dropped like an ocean's swell, soft and tantalizing. It continued to grow louder the further Aileen rode into the moor, shadows flickered at the edges of her vision and fleeting spots of light moved amongst the grasses and in the deep darkness of the forest.

By now Aileen had unwrapped her bell and laurel hung chain and held it at the ready to ward off any more beasts, thin hands often reached up to drag her from Ivie's back but each time Aileen would fight back the wave of nausea and fear to jingle the bells furiously and brush the leaves against the malevolent beings at which they would mutter incoherently and sink back into the shadows.

A sudden call rang through the darkness and Aileen's head whipped around in shock, through the forest at the edge of the moor stepped a man dressed in a strange style of clothing that Aileen had never seen before. However, remembering her mother's warning of mortal men Aileen urged Ivie into a trot.

'If you wish to entice me to follow you, think again Sevverne maiden!' The man's voice reached Aileen's ears as a weak challenge.

Aileen's curiosity overcame her and she ruthlessly pushed her fear and caution aside, 'Do you wish every malevolent being in this moor to attack you sir, or are you simply a fool?'

Aileen saw the man's body stiffen and she regarded him regally from Ivie's back, her eyes drilling into his own. 'I am sorry fair lady, I assumed you to be an eldritch being,' he said when he was within a close enough distance to converse easily.

Page 2.

[iCurrie]

'I understood as much.' Aileen coldly replied, barely masking her curiosity.

'If you don't mind my asking, why are you riding the moor alone at night?'

'I could ask you the same sir!'

'Then I shall tell you, I am Saob, I hunt'

'Oh, mother told me about hunters!' Aileen whispered excitedly to herself. 'Ma'am?'

'Never mind, I was talking to myself.' She spoke quickly in her eagerness, 'well then, Saob, may I ask something of you?'

'Yes, of course.'

'Are you a man of Arie?'

The fellow chuckled, 'What else would I be?'

Aileen's eyes grew round and she could not stop a delighted giggle from bubbling out of her mouth, 'Why! You don't seem so terrible at all!'

'I don't seem terrible... lady, who are you?' Saob's voice was riddled with confusion.

'Oh dear, how rude of me. I am Aileen, Aileen of the forest.'

Saob carefully stepped around her until the moon shone on her face, rather than cast it in shadow and a gasp tore his throat.

The lady before him was like nothing he had ever seen, her nose was straight and would have been aristocratic had it been bigger. Her lips were plump and round, her skin as smooth and pale as porcelain. She was tall and willowy, and her hair was a vibrant river of red-gold that tumbled down her horse's rump and sides. Yet it was not this that caused such surprise, instead it was her eyes, large like a doe's, and liquid amber.

'A Torluth,' he whispered, he stumbled backward in panic, 'there are Torluth's in Arie!'

Aileen started at him in bewilderment, confusion turned to fear as Saob grimly snarled and lifted his bow and arrow to his shoulder.

'Demon wench!' he shouted and let the arrow fly, sending it straight for her heart.

Page 3.

At the moment, this is simply a draft copy. I am looking to polish up on the smallest of errors, and fine tuning any details. If you see anything askew, or anything that simply doesn't sit right, please say so. Any reviews and thoughts would be appreciated!