Tower of Dove

Chapter 1: The Elf Girl

A/N: so this will be my first novel up on WP. hopefully i don't screw it up :D ummm i don't really know what i'm doing right now, with this uploading thing. so hopefully it comes out okay. dedicated to Choppy cause she read it for me first ^_^ well, read, enjoy, and ermm, comment? fan? i'm new to WP lingo hehe so help a newbie out :) - victoria

Tower of Dove Chapter 1: The Elf Girl

Lilyana was only half aware of the voice speaking. Well, she was probably more like one-sixth aware of it, the way she would be faintly aware of a distant buzzer going off and by the time she finally realized that the words were being directed at her, the voice had grown soft and timid.

She blinked and looked up at the person standing in front of the bench she was sitting on. With her dazed trance broken, the sounds of the village market flooded her ears. The clacking of horse hooves on the cobblestone road, the obnoxious laughter of middle-aged noblewoman as they walked by, and then there was the voice of the familiar blonde boy trying to talk to her.

"Uh, Lilyana," he said, "did I come at a bad time?"

It was Simeon Oakleigh, the son of the Village's Premier. He was a nice boy of seventeen, although his personality was as bland as unseasoned rice. He was always trying to get her to go places with him, which was somewhat irritating, but she didn't hate him like she did most of the other village's population of moronic, self-centered imbeciles. He was a nice guy. She continued to look at him, noting the way he nervously chewed the inside of his cheek and the way his hair fell perfectly over his forehead. A little bit too perfectly. Perfection made Lilyana uncomfortable. His lips moved again, as if he were saying something. Had he said something?

He played with the cuff of his silk button-up shirt and shifted his green-eyed gaze away from her. "I guess I'll, um, just talk to you another time." He turned to walk away, his black shoes tapping against the cobblestone.

After about three taps Lilyana realized that he had probably been talking to her for several minutes while she just stared into space like a genuine dumb blonde. "Damn it," she muttered, standing up as his figure drew farther away. In a louder voice she said, "Simeon?"

Slowly, he turned around, his eyes wary. Maybe he was finally getting sick of pointlessly chasing after her. "Yes?"

Lilyana brushed her uncombed blonde curls off of her face before crossing her arms over her chest. Somehow she managed to make this simple action spastic and awkward, and she immediately wished she hadn't moved at all. She didn't look at him when she said, "Sorry."

She glanced up from beneath her eyelashes and saw him shrug and smile. Then he continued to walk away, not bothering to say another word. She sighed as she watched him go; she never meant to hurt his feelings, but somehow she was incredibly good at it.

She stormed off in the opposite direction of the tailor shop she had been sitting in front of, no longer wanting to wait for the dress her mother had sent to be hemmed. She was too frustrated with herself to just sit around anymore. She needed to go to the forest and not think about her failures as a human being, always saying the wrong thing or just not saying anything at all. Her old therapist had told her that nature was a good comfort for her, and it was one of the few things that stupid analytical woman had been right about.

The marketplace was crowded enough to make Lilyana want to punch anyone who came within touching distance of her as she moved through the sea of people out for a window-shopping stroll. Of course, most of the people within touching distance were woman or younger children. There were nearly no men in the village over the age of twenty. Most of them had left to serve in the Raven War, against the Heron Village and their ally, the Robin. She frowned as her thoughts shifted to that pointless war. She wouldn't think about it, not again. But when she finally made it out of the market and the noise of the village's people grew faint, she had no choice but to follow the road to the cemetery. She hated the cemetery. All she could think about when she passed it was the war. All she could think about was her father.