From the journal of Samuel Oak

3 May

Late afternoon found me sitting in my workshop, utterly at a loss for any ideas. I could not, for the life of me it seemed, prod myself into adjusting my previous works nor beginning new ones. Then, as the shadows began to grow, my luck appeared to change.

A beautiful voice, young and pure, floated into the workshop as if on a cloud. It drew me to the window, like a flame does a moth, and I peered out to find the source of the haunting sound. I surveyed the woods, seeing no movement except for the occasional rustle of an animal in the leaves. I very nearly gave up, convinced the sweet song was merely a figment of my imagination, before my gaze finally fell upon a young girl walking along the edge of the forest.

Her hair, long and chestnut, was plaited over her shoulder and woven with wildflowers; her white dress billowed in a soft breeze about her knees; the dappled sunlight through the treetops illuminated her sylphlike figure; and as she turned her head toward me I could see her delicate mouth open in song.

For a moment the ludicrous notion that she might be some sort of faerie crossed my mind, her voice so aethereal and limbs so waifish. And how surprised was I, when I had looked away for not a moment and she had vanished without a trace!

But I shook the thought from my head and returned to my seat at the desk, where my block of moulding clay lay. Without paying any mind, I picked it up and began to warm and shape it between my fingers.

After a few minutes, I found I'd formed the shape of a young girl's face, her nose delicate and cheeks soft. And suddenly the idea took hold of me; to begin my most brilliant piece of mechanical genius…

Earlier in the day, Samuel had been enjoying a morning cup of tea when he'd been interrupted by the sound of his grandson's tutor having a conniption fit.

"Honestly, Mr Oak!" The exasperated blonde dragged a boy, no more than ten years of age, by his ear into the inventor's room. "This grandson of yours does not think lessons in deportation and elocution are good enough for him." She let go of him, pushing him toward the old man as he rubbed his reddened ear indignantly. Samuel's eyes crinkled with a smile.

"My dear Hanne, what has he done this time?"

The young woman smacked the boy upside his auburn head of hair and harrumphed. "Only joined the peasant boys to steal bread! As though we do not have enough."

"Green," the inventor said mock-sternly to the boy. "What did I say about obeying Hanne?"

"But lessons are so awfully boring!" he huffed. "I just want to run about with the other children in the village. Today is my rest day!"

"Now, Green, listen to me well." Samuel's voice was serious now, and his disgruntled grandson looked up at him. "Your parents were good people who wanted you to be intelligent, and kind, and properly raised. Hanne is here to teach you your manners." Green stuck his nose up and cast a look askance at his tutor.

"I think Hanne should resolve to teach only what she knows."

Green figured the opportunity for a snide remark was well worth the punishment for his impertinence, an extra two hours of lessons on proper etiquette. But Hanne was insistent on his being absolutely perfect, and her adjustments to his posture were more forceful than usual, or necessary. He nearly regretted the earlier jab by the time he was allowed to leave the house to rejoin his troop of ragged village boys.

Being the only one of any noble blood, he always stuck out like a sore thumb among them, at least until someone threw an insult and all of them were dragged into an impromptu wrestling match that would leave his white shirt soiled by the streets. It was comforting that none of the boys really paid any mind that he, by the technicalities of social hierarchy, was supposed to be superior to them, even to those older than he.

Today's game was Hide-and-Go-Seek, and one of the younger striplings, a rather slow thing, was left alone in the street without a choice as the others ran off to hide. Green took off toward the forest on the edge of the village, his usual place. As he crested the hill that sloped downward to the woods, however, a girl some distance away caught his eye, and he slowed to a stroll toward her.

She crouched on the ground in a plain white frock and dark laced vest, picking wildflowers. A strand of long brown hair that had escaped the braid over her shoulder fell forward into her face as she plucked a handful of yarrow, and she brushed the hair back, leaving a smudge of dirt on her cheek. He could see into the basket that sat beside her, lined with a red patterned cloth and filled with flowers of varying colours and shapes.

That cloth, Green thought, must be the prettiest thing she owns.

At the sound of his footsteps nearing, her head shot up like a startled deer. She had big, open eyes like a deer, too, Green decided, and he watched her stand slowly with the basket and smooth out the skirt of her dress.

"Hallo there," he said, stopping a few feet away from the girl. She nodded back, her eyes downcast. "What's your name?"

"Leaf." Her voice was quiet, as he'd expected.

"I'm Green." He felt a phantom Hanne jab him in the side. "...It's a pleasure to meet you." The girl's eyebrows raised curiously at his addendum.

"Uh, would you like one?" Leaf asked, holding out a bright yellow flower to Green. He took it, but a voice in the back of his head reminded him of the "manners" his tutor had been trying to teach him.

"Thank you," he said, "but I think it would look very nice in your hair." The girl's honey brown eyes widened as Green stepped closer and reached over to carefully thread the daisy into her braid. He stepped back to admire his handiwork. "Yes, that's much better."

He deliberated her face, the loose, disheveled strands of hair framing it, the dirt on her cheeks and forehead. "I should like to kiss you," he said, "but you're rather ugly, I think."

Leaf's nose scrunched up, her brow furrowed, and Green didn't see her fist before he felt the pain blossom in his cheek. His back hit the ground with an undignified thump, and he scrambled backward across the grass and away from the girl before she could wind up another punch.

"Oh, come on, Green!" one of the boys called from over the hill. "Are you bothering girls again?"

"Ah, no! I'm coming, I'm coming." He stood quickly, brushing the dirt off of the seat of his pants. Green spun around, rubbed his smarting cheek, and ran off toward the laughter and conversation of his friends. He didn't dare spare another glance back at Leaf, who stood with hands balled into shaking fists at her sides.

Happy non-denominational winter holiday! Have a little gift, from me to you. Yes, you, sitting there in front of your electronic device, or maybe for some strange reason you've printed this out, and reading this right now. This is for you. Doesn't it feel special? You're beautiful.

This'll be a pretty quick read, but I'm hoping you all will enjoy it. Don't worry, the first chapter is the shorter than the next by a considerable amount, and it was primarily for exposition, as first acts commonly are.