My *New* Story

[Nfinity]

I have a relatively short story that I used as a submission to a scholarship competition called the Overture awards. I was wondering if you guys wanted me to post it and/or if you thik I should expand it and make it an actual novel-like thingy....oh, a novella! That's what they're called.

Let me know, okay? ;D

[goblingirl]

Post. Please.

[Hobbit-eyes]

Do.

[Nfinity]

Okay.... it's really rather long, but if you insist....I'll post the first few pages and then go from there. It's in total about well....let me see...15 pages double-spaced, eight pages not. Hmm....well. Here you go....the first three pages:

Hedgewitch

The man in my dreams, he haunts me, has followed me from the nightmares of childhood to the uncertainty of adulthood. Always he’s there, standing, watching, never drawing near and, yet, never retreating. Since before I can remember he’s been there, watching me, no matter what I dream, the silent sentinel of my sleeping thoughts.

“Sora! Get outta bed!”

Sora Sundisdatter was an orphan. When she was a little girl, too young yet and too traumatized to retain her own birthname, she’d been brought in the night by a strangely-garbed man on a wild horse and left in the town of Sundis. Wandering around until dawn broke, cold and clear as it does in the high mountains, she stumbled upon the baker, early at her work and the baker had immediately called the town together. Times were hard that winter, and no one wanted to claim her. Try as they did, no one could derive an intelligible response from the child, except the blacksmith, Rubart. She had no name, and no recollection of her life before. Rubart reluctantly took her in. He named her Sora and her last name became the name of the town, Sundis, with the suffix datter meaning ‘daughter of.’

“Sora!” She reluctantly got up and dressed, stretching and opening the curtains to the brilliant white of the outside world. It had snowed again. A young farmer, struggling with a willful donkey that refused to budge, waved at her from beside his cart. Sora waved back calling out, “Good morning, Dava!” Dava grinned back at her and rested a shoulder on the mule.

“And what a beautiful morning it is, Sora, if you exclude the snow and this stubborn jackass.” Sora repressed a laugh as the donkey took Dava’s hat and obstinately chewed it, until Dava wrenched it back. “Well,” he said, “have a good day, Sora!” She watched as he finally got the wagon moving and then went downstairs to do her chores. Rubart had refused to allow Sora to apprentice for him, saying that blacksmithing was no job for a young lady. Sora hadn’t argued. She wouldn’t much like being perpetually covered in soot and metal
shavings anyway.

“Good morning, Rubart.” His grunted reply carried to her from the small kitchen, where she prepared breakfast. At fifteen, she’d already become the mistress of the household, if it could be called that. Cooking and cleaning were her main jobs, but she also went from house to house, helping where it was needed.

“I wanta talk to ya about an opportunity that’s come up,” Rubart said gruffly. Sora sat down, noting that Rubart looked everywhere but at her.

“Yes?” Rubart took a long drink of the milk that Sora had gotten from Dava for helping birth an early calf.

“Well, You know you can’t stay here forever, Sora,” he started, still looking everywhere but at her. “An’ I fixed the shoes of a horse t’other day of a lady. And we got ta talkin’ an she said she was needin’ an apprentice.” He stopped to gauge her reaction. She was mildly shocked, but of course, she had thought he would apprentice her off sooner, so he could get a new apprentice. She was fifteen, a little older than most apprentices, and her anger and hurt were quickly replaced by curiosity. She knew that Rubart cared for her like she was his own child, but she also knew that he couldn’t keep her. If she’d been his real daughter, she would have been apprenticed or married by now.

“What will I be apprenticing to?” Her voice was soft, timid, as if she were a little girl again.

“Well, I know you have some natural talent with ta healing arts, so I says ta the lady, ‘Do ya have an apprentice?’ And ta lady says, ‘My last one went the way of the geese in winter.’ And I says, ‘Will ya be wantin’ a new one?’ And that settled it. She’ll be comin’ for ya this afternoon. I’ll be in ta forge, so, if ya want, you c’n come and say goodbye.”

“Rubart,” Sora said firmly. “You skirted my question. What is the occupation of the lady I’ll be apprenticing to?” Rubart flushed and scratched his wiry beard.

“Ah, well, she’s a, an’ there ain’t nothin’ wrong with it, either, but she’s a hedgewitch, a real country witch, what helps heal ailments and such, birthing animals and planting herbs, and doin’ ta blessins’ an’ all.” Sora felt the blood drain from her face. A hedgewitch. Cursed and blessed at the same moment. Rubart might as well have apprenticed her to a mage, for all the good it would do. She didn’t know witchcraft, or any of the magicks, how was she to apprentice to a hedgewitch? She was on the verge of tears. If the witch found her unsatisfactory, then she’d be thrown out, and she couldn’t come back here. She looked at Rubart, standing there, looking uncomfortable and nodded.

“Thank you, Rubart,” she said, forcing the quaver out of her voice. “I will do my best.” She stood, clearing the table and heading to the kitchen to wash them. Rubart followed her, and when Sora turned, she saw the barest glimmer of tears in the gruff blacksmith’s eyes.

“I know you’ll do well, Sora,” he said, his voice more brusque than usual. “An’ I want ya ta know, well, I’ve always thought of you as a daughter an’,” he sniffed, and wiped his eyes hurriedly. “Well, I know you’ll do fine, jus’ fine.” Sora felt a small smile twitch the corners of her mouth and she did something she hadn’t done since she was a child. She nearly ran to Rubart and clamped her hands around his middle. He hugged her back for a moment, before letting her loose and turning to the door to the forge. As he opened the door he turned. “Goodbye, Sora Sundisdatter,” he said. “May Fortune shine on ya and all your deeds.” The formal goodbye pushed the truth further into Sora’s mind. She was leaving. That was the last time she ever saw Rubart.

As she packed, she thought about everything that this place had meant to her over the years: friendship, family of a sort, a banishment of the loneliness, and most importantly a home. Now she’d be giving up all of that for something unknown. Sora looked down at the meager belongings she’d thrown into her satchel. A cover-worn book that Rubart had bought for her at market when she was eight, the leather cover falling apart in some places; the careworn quilt Desna, Dava’s mother, had made her when she saved Dava from drowning; and other such objects holding memories of people and times. She started to close her satchel, but a white glint on her bed made her stop. There, lying on the pillow was a miniature silver horseshoe on a silver chain. Sora smiled softly as she picked it up. Silver, she knew, was better tied to the earth, one of the five elements that witches worked with. And a horseshoe was good luck. Rubart had made it for her.
“I’m not going to cry,” she whispered, tears sprinkling her cheeks anyway. She undid the clasp, put the necklace on, and closed her satchel of belongings. It was almost noon. The hedgewitch would be there any moment to take her away from all that she knew, and bring her to an unknown destination.

*****
The hedgewitch was not what Sora expected. Instead of an old, warty crone, she was tall and sapling slender, with an unblemished face and long silver hair that wisped about her face. The witch had a kind enough smile, but her ice blue eyes never changed from a curious, but calculating look. Her clothes were those of a simple rider, and the supple leather clung to her as she moved in a wide circle around Sora, looking her up and down. Sora, wearing her favorite dress of pale spring green, stood silent through this, resenting the feeling of being a horse on sale at market. The witch nodded to herself and muttered under her breath.
“Do you know any magicks?” Her voice was smooth and gravelly at the same time, husky and soft. Sora shook her head and the hedgewitch smiled. “Good. I can teach you from the beginning. You’re fifteen?” Sora nodded. “A little older than my last, but I think we can overlook that.” She stopped circling and Sora let out a sigh of relief, she was beginning to feel like a rabbit cornered by a fox. “Well, can you speak? Do you have a name, girl?”

“My name is Sora Sundisdatter.” Sora replied, grateful her voice didn’t waver or squeak. The witch smiled. Her teeth were very, very white and straight, and the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Good strong voice, very good. And you don’t seem to be afraid of me, that’s even better.” She paused for a second and reached into the bag she had hanging off her hip. She pulled out a bit of crushed herb, muttered a strange word and flung the powder into Sora’s face. A strange thing happened. A warmth spread from the center of Sora’s body, and light spilled forth from her, pulsing with every beat of her heart. After a moment a cold wind blew and the light and the warmth faded. The hedgewitch cackled gleefully and rubbed her hands together.

“I knew it!” she howled into the cold mid-winter air. “I knew that this day would come.” To Sora she said, “Come with me, child, I have much to teach you.”

As the witch rode her horse and Sora walked, the witch told her about her new life.

“My name is Matha Greywind, but you can call me Matha. My home is not far from here, in the Oak Grove of Darkriver Forest. There is a little garden outside that I will have you attending. I will teach you the herbs and plants soon enough.” She paused and urged the horse to a faster pace.

“I must warn you, I have two sisters who live nearby and come often. Marta Greenearth and Mayta Redfire. Mayta is of a bad temperament, stay clear of her, but Marta is peaceful, and will be helping you when I journey.” She looked at Sora’s pale face and laughed lightly. “Don’t worry child, I won’t journey until I know you’re ready, and my sisters won’t be coming around any time soon.” Matha continued telling Sora of her new life through the rest of their journey, Sora all the time wondering what she’d gotten into.

[Nfinity]

I want to stop right here and say a huge thank you to Tava....*Huge huggles* I dedicate this little thingy to her, because she caught all the tiny mistakes and grammatical errors I made as I was rushing to get the finished product. ;D I'd be lost without her as my grammar-Nazi.

[Nfinity]

And here's a new annoucement.... due to my computer completely locking me out of Microsoft Word.... I've had to convert all my documents to regular text documents via a backup copy I had of all of them. Unfortunately, Hedgewitch was written AFTER my computer was "fixed" so I don't have a back-up copy of it and have no way of even copying and pasting it. So this is all I have for right now.....at least until I can get my computer to unlock MSWord.

[Ashley]

What you had was GREAT. Can't wait for more.

[Nfinity]

I'm going to attempt getting the story converted to a text file so I can post the rest and then I'll be open for suggestions on what to do with it. ;D I should have it ready by tomorrow.