Prologue
It was a cold winter night in the mountainous region of NorthernEngland. Snow already caked the frozen ground yet still more was falling, gently and silently. On a deserted mountain side stood a forgotten house. The lights were on, but they hardly reflected the celebratory atmosphere of the nearest town, some twenty kilometers away. A new year was beginning as 1968 gave way to 1969.
The house was just as old and grungy on the inside as it was on the outside. Shingles were missing from the roof. Holes were patched roughly. Shutters hung from their hinges. The steps leading up to the front door creaked when walked upon. Surrounding the house was nothing but forest. Tree upon tree upon tree, thick brush scaled the mountain side.
The spell of silence on the house and the surrounding mountains broke as the house suddenly erupted in flames. From the pile of rubble, a little girl began to crawl away, her legs too weak to carry her. The young girl, covered in ashes and soot, crawled through the packed snow to the edge of the forest behind the house. She stopped when she reached a beech tree, only because she could carry her body no further. She collapsed before it as her arms gave way, and received a mouth full of snow. With what strength was left in her, she rolled over onto her back and looked up at the night sky.
The snow had now stopped and the clouds had parted. The moon was a quarter full. Leo the Lion sat high in the sky watching over the little girl. So many times before the girl had laid at this same spot and watched the night stars wishing to be among them. The stars were what reminded her that there was a world outside the prison she knew. The young girl would gaze up at the stars and dream of the day when she could leave this life behind.
Today was no different. The young girl knew that the time when she would leave this life was near. And she could not think of a better last sight to see, than the sight of the moon and the stars smiling down upon her.
The house continued to crumble and burn, the smoke rising up into the night. Several minutes later and the burning house was surrounded by a dozen men, men who had appeared out of thin air. These men held in their hands long narrow sticks and from these sticks water poured forth like a fountain and doused the flames.
"Search the derbies men! And the surrounding area! Look for any survivors! We must determine what happened before any Muggle grows suspicious!" A man upfront called out orders; his lime green bowler hat was visible even in the dark night. The other men immediately set to work. Little did any of them know, but no Muggle would grow suspicious or miss the family that lived there.
The search went on and on, but no body was found in the ruble. There were no charred remains among the ashes. No skeletons under the piles of burnt wood. There was no sign of life at all. The only evidence of prior human contact was a pair of horn-rimmed glasses and pieces of broken furniture. As the search radius widened, one man found the path left by the girl. He followed it out to the forest.
"I've found a body!" he called out in a husky voice. "A little girl, wait...I thi-I think she's... Yes! She's alive! Cornelius, over here! I've found a survivor!" The man with the husky voice dropped to his knees before the beech tree at the edge of the forest; before the young girl.
"Child, can you hear me? What's your name? Are you hurt?" the husky voice asked the young girl. She remained silent, staring up at the stars. His hazel eyes looked over her, checking for injuries. There was one fresh wound amongst a canvas of scars; a cut on her face down to the bone from which she cried red tears. Her sapphire eyes were hazed over in a dreamy fashion and contrasted against her pale skin. A glint of gold around her wrist caught his eye. He gently lifted it up and examined it. It was a gold plated bracelet with a single star charm; etched into the star was the name Kate.
"What's her name?" the man with the bowler hat asked as he joined the man with the husky voice.
"She hasn't spoken. But I've found this." He held up her wrist and displayed the gold bracelet. "I think her name might be Kate. Cornelius, she can't be more than nine years old."
Cornelius nodded his head solemnly. "Take her to St. Mungo's. We'll finish up here and I'll join you shortly," he told the man with the husky voice.
"Kate," the man with the husky voice looked down at the young girl again. "My name is Fleamont. I'm going to take you to the hospital now. You're going to be alright."
The young girl remained unaware of the two men surrounding her. She continued to stare up at the sky. She smiled sweetly. Her eyes fluttered closed as the darkness surrounded her.
YOU ARE READING
Scars: Scars Saga 1
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