CAA: Christian Anime Alliance

This is a story I have been turning over in my mind since October, but it still hasn't been fully realized yet. I have been writing off and on during school when I have spare time, and I have decided to post it for you to read! YAY! The problem is, it doesn't have a title yet. Not even a working title. So I'm taking suggestions from anyone who has them. And I love getting comments and critiques, so post away! Hopefully it will get a title soon! Here is the first installment. Enjoy!

(Insert title here)

Prologue

The cries of a healthy child filled the cottage as Mirazhe turned to smile at her beautiful new daughter, her first child to survive birth. And the infant was beautiful, with a full head of thick curly hair and a healthy flush in her almond skin.

As the child sensed her mother's scrutiny, she stopped wailing like a banshee and looked up to meet her gaze. Mirazhe took her breath in sharply. Her daughter's eyes were clear, penetrating, and brilliantly green-blue. She tried to look away, but could not tear her eyes from those deep pools of unfathomable depth. She was unable to banish the feeling that her soul and her deepest, darkest thoughts were being exposed and opened like a map for all to read.

Then, quite suddenly, the feeling vanished. The infant opened her mouth in a toothless, endearing smile and she cooed happily, gazing at her mother with adoration. Mirazhe was visibly shaken, but still did she return the smile. It wasn't the child's fault, after all. She must be being irrational, for how could a child gaze into her soul?

She lifted the baby out of her cradle and rocked her back and forth, crooning a lullaby. Her daughter's eyelids blinked once, twice, then closed in sleep. Soon her breathing was deep and relaxed, and she snuggled closer to her mother. Mirazhe continued to hold her infant to her chest as she wandered about the cottage, tidying up and heating a cauldron of stew on the fire.

Finally, she placed her baby back in the cradle and sank into a chair. She sighed in relief, turned her attention to the window, waiting for Gavin to return from his hunting trip. Gavin, her beloved husband, had not wished to leave his wife, who by that time was well into her ninth month, but finally he could wait no longer.

"We are running out of food, Mira. If I don't do something we'll be starving soon," he had said to her before he left for the mountains. "You will have enough to eat while I am away, and in three days I'll be back with all the game I can carry!" Then he bade her farewell, picked up his bow and quiver, and left the cottage.

A mere forty-eight hours after Gavin left, Mirazhe went into labor. She called out for help, and, when no one came, sent a message by carrier pigeon to the village midwife. In the end, it was of no consequence, for Mirazhe's infant made her way into the world with no one's help and only her mother there to see.

Mirazhe's joy over a living birth and her elation that it was a girl was mixed with intense pity for Gavin. If only he had been there to see! But he would be back in a day, and a great surprise would be waiting for him.

For the next twenty-four hours, her daughter was Mirazhe's reason for living. She bustled about, finding things for her daughter to eat, chopping kindling and milking goats. (Though, in truth, it would have done her more good to rest.) She stole every moment she could spare to admire her baby.

Mirazhe now frowned at the mental picture of her daughter her mind had conjured up. It didn't seem right, somehow. She turned to the sleeping infant to compare. No, they didn't match up. Her daughter's hair was in truth closer to red than to brown, and, in the mental image, her eyes were clouded. Mirazhe remembered only too well just how clear those eyes had seemed not two minutes ago. Perhaps she had never truly seen her daughter's eyes before…

It was then that she caught sight of the tall, handsome young man coming over the brow of the hill. She forgot her troubled thoughts and went to the door to welcome her husband home.

Gavin set down the enormous buck that was their new supply of meat. Then he embraced his wife.

"You're thinner, Mira." He let go and looked her up and down. "Have you been eating enough?"

Mirazhe smiled. Trust Gavin to be concerned about her the moment he returned. "Yes. I have almost gorged myself, darling. Guess again."

He looked over her once more, mildly perplexed. Then, as comprehension dawned on his face, he asked, "Our child?" When she nodded, he kissed her gently.

"Show me," he said quietly, and Mirazhe led him to the cradle.

They stood there for a long while, watching her chest rising and falling with each deep breath, her brilliant eyes peacefully closed in sleep. Finally, Gavin turned to face his wife, eyes shining with awe, and broke the silence.

"What is her name?"

"Her name is Kaelarin." Mirazhe had never spoken the name aloud before. She felt a shiver travel through her. The air crackled in its wake.

Gavin nodded his approval. "'Tis a beautiful name, Mira."

"Indeed." With that said, they both turned and looked at Kaelarin for a long time. They admired her until it was time to cook the venison, and then they turned to other tasks.

So, what do you guys think?

It's very well done, please continue.

Sangoku wrote:It's very well done, please continue.

Awww, thanks. I'm glad someone likes it....

Yes, yes! Please do continue!

Very good. We'll be able to start giving ideas for a title after we read more probably.

Anison Twilight wrote:Very good. We'll be able to start giving ideas after we read more probably.

Thanks everyone! I'm glad you guys liked it. I'm in the middle of Chapter One right now, hopefully it will be done soon!

Icarus wrote:I have would posted yesterday, but I think my computer froze. I like it.

Thank you, Icarus!

Well-written. I liked it. ^_^

WOW. Chloe, the one with excellent taste, liked my story?!?! I'm extremely flattered, but don't inflate my ego too much.

Anyway, I finished Chapter One! Hurrah for me! ^_^ Enjoy!

Chapter One

The swallowtail butterfly alighted on the daffodil with the grace it possessed and began to feed. Its delicate wings, with numerous panes of golden yellow and royal blue set in intricate ebony frames, were held erect, quivering in the light breeze.

The butterfly finished its nectar and fluttered off to land on an outstretched perch—a finger that belonged to a young girl.

The girl was tall, and all her movements were graceful. She was dressed in a simple blue shift, with a leather pouch at her waist. Her brilliant red-gold hair was held back in a blue headscarf, to keep it out of her eyes. She studied her new companion.

"You're a pretty thing," she told the creature, "and you really don't cause me any trouble. But you had best fly away now, lest I accidentally damage your wings." It didn't move.

She took the butterfly over to a foxglove and let it crawl off her hand. Then she sat down on a rock to stare out at the sunlight dancing on the surface of the nearby pool. It teased her, beckoning her into its sparkling shallows. Despite its gentle appearance, the sunlit waters concealed shadows of unfathomable depth—much like the girl's eyes, twin spots of emerald light hiding her shadowed thoughts.

Perhaps I don't belong out here at all, she mused silently. Perhaps I belong down there, in the pool. Perhaps I am just water and light incarnate, and the shallows are welcoming me back…

She doubted the truth in this. Her mother had warned her of the pool's dangers, as all the other village women had warned their children. No one had ever measured its depth, and those who tried never came back alive. Some people believed that the pool was home to a malevolent djinni, which brought foolish humans to a watery grave.

Others maintained that the undines lived in the pool, and those mischievous little water sprites played tricks on unsuspecting humans. They would tantalize intruders until they jumped in, in order to join the undines' camaraderie, and then pull them under, never to be seen again; or so the villagers say.

There were even those who claimed that the pool had no bottom, and those who fell in sank straight to the underworld to have their deeds justly repaid.

The girl had never really believed the myths, but she hesitated to enter the water. What if the legends turned out to be true….?

In any case, she saw no reason to remain where she was. She never fit in with the villagers anyway. She was regarded with fear, suspicion, and even hatred. She remembered what had happened just yesterday afternoon…

She had been walking through the village to get water from the well. She always did this; it was the one chore her father insisted she do, for it was vital as well as easy. She walked with an air of grace and dignity few queens could ever hope to possess, much less the daughter of an impoverished hunter. She followed the sound of talking and laughter, for the well was located in the village square, and served as a place for the citizens of Amanrath to congregate and meet. As she walked into the square, however, all the conversations and gossip ceased.

She looked up and found all eyes on her. Mothers grabbed their children and pulled them close, glaring at her. Men of the village militia tightened their grip on their swords. An unknown citizen hissed, "Witch!"

She walked through the now-silent crowd, feeling uncomfortable as she always did when in the presence of her fellow villagers. She came up to the well and slowly drew the water into her bucket. When she had finished, she turned to leave. Before she left the square, however, someone threw a ball of mud at the back of her cloak. She spun around to see who had done the deed, but whoever it was had already disappeared. She turned once more and ran back to the cottage. As soon as she was out of sight, she heard the talking return, but this time it was a mutinous muttering…

It's like that every time I encounter them, she thought miserably. Yesterday afternoon was better than most, though. They didn't throw vegetables, or beat me, that time. Just stared at me like I was some kind of disgusting creature from the swamp, or a beetle they desperately want to squash. Why do they hate me so much? I never caused them any trouble. I was born with penetrating eyes and fiery hair, that's all. They seem to think that it's some sort of crime to be different! I don't belong in a place where people believe that!

But then, she remembered her parents. Her mother: tall, graceful, resourceful, dark-haired and brown-eyed, considered the village beauty in her day, working tirelessly to raise her only daughter. Her father: strong, sturdy, intelligent, blond-haired and blue-eyed, once set to become a scholar but losing his chance at that dream when she was born, leaving often for the mountains to capture the meat they needed to survive, but still was always there when his little girl needed him. Both of them had given up everything they wished for, had to endure the hatred and spite of the other villagers, so that they could raise her. They loved her with all their hearts, and it would be unfair of her to take that all away by departing.

For their sake, I won't leave. I love them, and I will stay here.

She sat there for a long time, staring out into space and weeping silent tears. Then, almost unconsciously, she began to sing.

It is impossible to describe the song in words, for it had none. It was nothing but a tune to those who might wish to see it written down. But when she sang, a feeling would enter the hearts of all who heard it. It was a sorrow so intense it that flowers around her would droop, the sunlight would dim to a mournful semi-darkness, the wind would sigh, and tears would stream down the faces of unfeeling rocks. It was the sorrow of an outcast, a misfit, yearning to find the one place she belonged.

"Kaeli!" She stopped and turned around to see her mother coming through the trees. "Darling, it's time for the midday meal. Is something wrong?"

"No, Mother, I'm okay," she lied. "I was just thinking."

"Well, then, you'd best come with me. Your father is waiting for you." Mirazhe looked at her daughter again with an odd look on her expressive face. "Are you sure you're feeling all right?"

"Yes, Mother. I'm perfectly fine." On the outside, she added mentally.

"All right, then. If you're sure…let's go home, Kaeli."

Kaelarin of Amanrath followed her mother through the woods and down to their cottage, where her father was waiting for them.

So, how was it?

Yay! You did so well TJ! The wording is very pretty. Keep it up!

[quote="Bunny"]Yay! You did so well TJ! The wording is very pretty. Keep it up! ]
Thank you, Bunny!

I agree with what Bunny said, it's very good!

Your writing is very beautiful! ^^

kaze wrote:Your writing is very beautiful! ^^

Thank you both, kaze and Sangoku!

cool story. i wish i could write so well. keep it up.

Hello ^_^ I just wanted to let you know how much I like this story. It's very well-written. Hope to read more soon.

Dear convoybutterfly, Iesu_no_Senshi, and everyone who has read my story:

Greetings from Cloud Nine. It's so lovely up here, and it's thanks to you all I'm up here right now! Thank you all for your kind words. Chapter Two is coming, so stay tuned!

In elated gratitude,

Taslin, the Jewel of Glacia

Icarus wrote:Hello up there! While your up, could you tune my harp? It's fallen into disuse.

Awesome job, Taslin.

Sure! Anything for my readers. *tunes harp*