Blood Memories [Last of Elves book 1] (NaNoWriMo 2014)

One: Naameh

Naameh

The world is a harsh place, yet I cannot leave it. The world where I am known to all, yet known by none. Unforgiving, and just as readily punishes the people as it rewards them. That is the world to which I was born. The world I live in. The world that refuses to let me go, despite what I wish with all my heart.

I wish I could leave.

When I venture on the streets, I get stares, and bows. Curtsies from the women. They part for me respectfully, allowing me a free, uncluttered path through the streets. Children, dirty, hungry but alive, run ahead of me, clearing the worst of the mess on the cobblestones so that I won't put my precious feet in the muck. The smell is another matter, but I have learnt to ignore it, just as I've learnt to life with the life I was chosen for.

I wish I could tell them not to clear the way for me, not to treat me with the deference that my position commands. I wish I could tell them that I want nothing more than to be among them as an ordinary woman, as I once had the chance of being.

But what I wish, what I want, doesn't matter in this world. Nothing does, except for what the people believe. They believe that I am a witch, a seer, an oracle, a goddess. Come to help them, to answer their prayers, to give them life again, a reason to have that life.

I don't know.

I've not felt anything for years. Nothing. Not what they say I can do, not the whispered rumours in the dark of what I might do. Yes, I can light a fire without touching the wood. Yes, I can encourage a plant to grow from seed to flower in a few minutes. Yes, I can stir the air, make it dance, make it come alive with music and light. Yes, I can bring a gentle rain, nourishing those who need it.

I can do all those things.

But cause a storm, or raise the dead? No. Bewitch a man? It would be interesting, but no. Speak with the goddess? Again, no.

I can't. Not anymore. Once, I was able to.

Whenever I walk the streets, I am always alone despite my guards trailing me - at a respectful distance, of course. To keep me safe, they say. The streets are dangerous, I'm a target. That's what they tell me, and I cannot refuse them. So they come with me, and shatter the chances I have of meeting the people on the streets.

The children who stare with wide eyes until parents nudge them. How I wish I could speak to them, learn of their hopes and dreams, play with them for a while.

The women who curtsey and think that I don't notice their envious glances at my clothing, my hair. How I wish I could swap with them, learn what it is like to be in their place.

The men who bow, not even trying to hide their appreciation of my body, my beauty. How I wish I could give it away, to learn what it is like to be plain and dull, never catching anyone's attention.

I wonder.

I wonder why I was born into this world. Why I was chosen for this role, and, in my eyes, cursed with my gifts. Gifts of power and beauty, of wealth and knowledge. Gifts that are useless to me. Why the goddess saw fit to give this to me, when I do nothing.

I was once just a normal woman, content to live in the town, making my own way. But instead, I was chosen for this.

I wish, for even just one day, that I can be normal again, one of the crowd. That I can venture outside on my own. No guards, no rich clothing. No way I could be recognised. Then maybe, I can understand. Maybe, I can understand once more their way of living, of working for their food, for their clothes, for their children. Working for their families.

I don't work.

I haven't since been chosen. Never had to buy my food, buy my clothes. Never had to work since. I once did, briefly. Before I was chosen for this, chosen to be the next link in the chain forged by the goddess. I think that's why I remember it, even after all these years. The feeling of something new, of something homemade, of home. I wish I could experience it again.

But I can't.

They say my destiny is to help the people, to show them the way to the light. That it is why I am kept away from them, shut away in the temple. So I won't get hurt, they say. But in a world where I am known to all, yet known by none, I don't understand how that is possible.

Don't I have to know the people to help them?

I saw him today. I met his eyes, so very dark blue. They seemed to see straight through me, and I couldn't hold the gaze. But when I looked back, he was gone. I don't know who he is, or why I looked at him and not anyone else, but I know those eyes.

They're the eyes that the goddess showed me in my dreams. The eyes of my destiny.