Brambles and Berries

Chapter 1

When I left the small cottage I called home it was sunny, now it was a damn downpour. Not even a light sprinkle, but the frigid kind of rain that stung when it hit your skin. I had walked to the town square to sell the dried herbs,spices, and flowers I grew in my family's small garden. My father had said he was growing tired of the clutter covering the table and was getting sick of the smell of oregano. The birds were singing and the sun was radiant when I decided to leave.I arrived at the market around two past midday. Surprisingly, Isold out of almost all of my small stock.. Many housewives were preparing for the Feast of Planting, which was when the land would be prepped for the spring sowing and the season of the sun would be on it's way. I stayed away too long at the city square due to my excitement of getting a few more copper pieces and seeing the new dress fabric, now look where I am, under a massive oak tree looking like a drowned rat. I slump up against the trunk of the tree and slide to my bottom. The sound of the water drops hitting the wide leaves above me is beautifully rhythmic, even if my entire body is drenched and cold. Opening my worn satchel, I look at the last of my dried goods andreach find my rabbit fur coin purse. I pull it out to count how much I made today.

1, 2, 3, 4, my gods I have at least 56 copper coins; 1,2,3 I only have 4 silver pieces; and I have the o1 gold piece I have saved. My finger slides over the gold silhouette of who my father says is the long-lost king, within my life, he has never made a public appearance. His long curly hair is pulled back into a low bun and a large crown sits upon his head. He has a wide smile and you can see the wrinkles around his eyes. When I was little my mother would tell me stories of the King and how our nation used to be, but those stories were nothing more than fairy tales. I would listen to them and dream of a day when those stories would come true,here everyone had food to eat and wood to burn.hat won't happen in my lifetime, the country of Angoni is failing. The cities are run by makeshift governments and the only thing keeping the city states from warring is the false hope of the long lost king returning, but I know that the king is dead. What else would explain his absence. The whole royal family disappeared, and the castle is nothing more than a hollow husk for ghost stories. I don't even know if the castle is still standing.

I lowered the gold piece into the fur coin purse and put it back into my satchel. I started to shiver as I buckled my bag closed. I shifted my wool cape around my shoulders and pulled it closer to my body as I looked up at the rainy sky peeking out of the tree leaves. I always loved the rain, I think I always will. In the Tuko forest, where my father and I lived, rain was normal. The huge oak trees about the size of my family's cabin riddle the forest and flourished with the steady rain. Wildflowers and berries grew along the roads, and streams flowed along the forest floor. Old stone bridges crossed the rivers and streams and the roads were lined with decrepit wooden fences. Occasionally you would stumble upon an old lamp post that would shine with faelight. At night the pixies and the light fae would flit between the tree tops and light the forest floor with their soft glow Many people didn't live in the Tuko forest as they feared the fae and creatures that may reside inside, but my mother and father researched the way of magic and learned the languages and culture of fae. My mother's father was a Rizea high fae, which is the term for a fae that looks incredibly human and the only different characteristic was their downward pointing ears, and her mother was human. This was what pushed my mother into studying the way of magick, but before she could really learn from her father he was killed in an eastern city while selling merchant goods. My father was an inventor and refurbisher and thought perhaps mechanics could help humans harness the way of magick, and that the arts were a form of magick. Sadly, townspeople didn't care for my parents thinking and my family was pushed into the forest when I was the age of two.

The sound of the rain on the leaves began to quiet and I turned my head upwards. It looked like the storm was letting up, I raised myself onto my feet. I secured the buttons on my cape before I dashed out of the safety of the tree. I made my way over the Shauri river and ran through the elm woods and oak trees. As I ran past the redwood grove I could hear the pixies giggling above me and hurried my pace. I didn't want any of my copper or silver pieces to be snagged by the greedy little sprites. The roads were slick with damp earth as I rounded the walkway to the small cottage my father and I called home. Smoke was plumbing out of the brick chimney and the drapes were closed. I could see the candlelight peeping out of the windows as I neared the spruce door. As I took a step inside I could smell the tomato basil soup my father promised on cooking for me tonight. My father was crouched over the tall wooden table in the center of the room. On the table beneath him laid a cherry wood violin. When I headed to town it was just a broken artifact that was only capable of decoration. My father is known throughout our community for being the savior of music, as he was one of the last craftsmen who could repair or make the once-banned instruments.

One hundred years ago the tyrant king Odei banned everything having to do with art. He banned dance and music, as well as any art or drawing that didn't pertain to his image.When his son Leon Darby inherited the throne he immediately removed the ban on the arts. He encouraged people to dance and sing at his coronation. My mom was but six when King Leon was crowned, and she told me of the party her small village threw. Her father had hope for the country and was optimistic his daughter was to never experience the hatred he did for being a fae, but sadly not the entire nation felt kindness towards the fae-thus my grandfather's demise. When I was a few months old the entire royal family vanished. Nobody seemed to know where they went or how they could reach them. The castles were empty as if they simply vanished into thin air.

"Hey, Dad!" I said as I slipped off my muddy boots, he swiveled in his chair to look at me through his magnification glasses. He groaned as he flipped the lenses up and out of his vision.

"I always forget I have those on and then I look up and make myself sick," he grumbled as he slid the glasses off and set them on the wooden workbench. His almost white hair shone in the candlelight and his callused hands laid down on his lap. He looked up at me with his wrinkled face, in which he got through laughs and smiles.

"Did you make anything?" he said in a light tone as he dusted off his paint-stained apron.

"I made a good amount," I said in a cheery tone as I pulled out my coin purse, "I made at least 32 copper and one silver piece." I finished as I slid the gold piece into my pocket before handing my father the purse.

"Wow, I am amazed that basil and mint sold. The smell of it was giving me a horrible headache." He chuckled as he sorted through the mixed coins. I shifted my weight between my feet before turning and going to the hearth to look at the food cooking above the blazing fire.

"Did you make this from--" I started before being interrupted,

"I followed April's recipe," he finished.

"You followed Mom's recipe!" I said excitedly as I lifted the lid to the pot. It smelled like Mom I thought to myself. "It hasn't been the same since she passed," I say in a hushed tone, "Even though it has been two years". My father walks over to me and puts an arm around the shoulder before kissing my temple.

"I know Yllde, I know," he says in a reassuring tone. "You will have to eat this soup for the next week or so. I am headed down to the southern tip to deliver some violins to a lord." He finished as he grabbed a wooden spoon to stir the soup.

"A week!" I rebuttal as I look at the hearth, "You haven't been that far since last year." I finish by dragging a wooden chair to sit in.

"I need to go, we are getting strap for cash and eventually this will have to be a common occurrence every new moon or so," My father says as he scratches his temple and pulls the soup off the fireplace, then sets it down on the stone ledge above the fireplace. He turns to me, "Are you ready to eat?" He asks as he walks over toward the cupboards. He pulls out two mismatched bowls with chips around the edges, and sets them on the worn wooden table sitting in the middle of our tired old kitchen. The wooden cabinets are covered in white chipped paint,the remains of my mother's hand painted wild flowers are faded. The window over the water basin looks into the gated area behind our house. In the distance you can see my fathers makeshift stable for our two horses, one a marbled white and black named Coalfire, and the other a silver sheened horse named Starstreak. The horses were gifts from the local fae tribe of Yllamner for helping them with trade between other tribes. My mother had learned both of the tribe's language as a part of her study on the fae culture, and she used that skill to help magick beings communicate with each other. As she followed in her father's dream for peace amongst the different species in Angoni.

My father's steady tapping took me out of my trance and I quickly moved my glance back to him. "Yes?" I asked nonchalantly as I made eye contact with him. He looked between me and the soup bowl now filled with orange steaming liquid and I realised he was waiting for me to take the first bite. Grabbing my spoon I quickly dug into the warm liquid hug and started eating.