The Violet Thread (Part One: Portal Rods)

Prologue

It was a cold night out. No stars shone to cast light or shadows on the riverbed, just a sliver of moon reflecting in the water and a few torches on the gypsy boat down the bank. Only the rustle of leaves and the lapping of water broke the silence of the dreary night. Then, suddenly, for just a fraction of a second, there was a break in the calm. The leaves circled up into the air and the wind howled. In that instant, something changed.

The woman sat up, sharply awakened, covered in sweat and dread. Barefoot in the night, she ran into the darkness. Chills ran down her spine, but not from the dampness between her toes, nor from the brisk air upon her bare shoulders. This was something else. This was something ancient, something buried inside her soul, something passed down from centuries before. After a few minutes she came to a stop and put one hand over her mouth to quiet her breath. She squinted and looked through the darkness until her eyes fell upon it. Cautiously, she stepped closer. The tree was black, as if burned, and yet, still held all its branches. At its base, wrapped in blankets, was a baby boy. She looked in all directions but there were no footprints or tracks of any kind. He had come alone.

The next morning everyone on the boat was curious about the new arrival. Where had he come from and how were his eyes so blue? Katia explained to the other children that gypsies had brown eyes because they were of the earth and dark skin from fire. This boy, his eyes were blue from the water and his skin was light from the air. But the children had lost interest in her explanation. Only he paid attention, staring up at her as if he understood. How could he know? He was just a baby. Someday she would tell him. Someday, when he was ready.