ELLI OF THE CINDERS

ELLI

When I was a little girl, I would sit in my tiny window in the very highest floor of the manor, staring out at the beautiful greens of the treetops and the rich, handsome brown of the dirt beneath those trees. I would gaze out that window for hours, imagining myself dancing and leaping out there. I would be climbing those green trees, rolling in that brown dirt. I would picture myself a princess, pampered by servants, a swarthy pirate, terrorizing the high seas, a diplomat studying at the college.

Of course, then I would hear the little bell by the door begin to tinkle sweetly, and would have to leave that beautiful solitude to attend to my hateful mistress or my horrible master. My master, the Duke of Rina, was a pig of a man. He was old, fat, and smoked too much. He was constantly making advances on the maids, and we all hated to serve on him.

I had lived at the manor for as long as I could remember. I must have been about five when I would come there. I do not remember anything before that. I have tried so hard, but all there is, is a dark blanket of blackness.

I lived in the county of Rina. Rina was one of seven counties that made up the tiny kingdom of Hayder. Rina was governed by my master, the Duke. He was a harsh man, thinking mainly of himself rather than Rina itself.

Hayder itself was a lovely little kingdom. The land was beautiful, ranging from the loud, brash beaches on the coast to the soft, tender farmlands in the valley, to the sharp, menacing mountains in the far east. A river wound through this, a long, wise river, cold and threatening in some points, calm, and sun-warmed in others. I loved Hayder with all my heart, though I had never traveled far from the manor, which was located on the far east of Rina, next to the rapids in the river. King Charles' palace was quite near to the manor, falling about two miles down the road. It was a lovely palace, glistening to the point of glowing. On my days off, I often walked the two miles up the road to sit on the hill overlooking the palace and stare. I often caught sight of the King making his rounds, or the young prince making mischief in the marketplace, or the queen having her nose powdered.

My favorite person of all to watch was Prince Ian, the king's son. He was a beautiful youth, what with his blond curls that encircled his head in a halo of golden light and his light and cheerful blue eyes. He was tall, about a foot and a half taller than I was, I supposed. He was muscular, as most young men his age were in Hayder. I thought him to be beautiful.

The Duke allowed me Saturdays and Sundays to myself, a much-needed rest after a hard week of working. I chose not to rest, but to explore. I loved exploring new places. This beautiful Saturday, I chose to follow the river. I packed myself a small parcel with a bit of food in it and set off to explore.

I soon came to the rapids of the river. They were a beautiful sight, what with the frothy white water roaring onto the rocks. Beautiful though they were, they were dangerous. I had heard of people falling in and being ripped to shreds by the sharp rocks.

I carefully followed the river a good distance from the shoreline, but when I reached a calm section of the river, I walked closer, nimbly skipping along the roots of the trees that grew along the bank. The roots were slippery, and I often had to grasp a low hanging branch to steady myself, but I managed to stay out of the water.

When the sun turned my shadow into just a small circle beneath me, I sat down to eat my lunch. My stomach had begun to rumble awhile back, but I had wanted to put off eating as long as I could.

I sat munching an apple. It was a delicious apple, the skin so shiny and red, and the juicy inside, succulent and tasty. I savored every bite.

The sun was hot that day. I had been sweating for the past hour. I'm sure I stank like a horse. I didn't care, to be frank.

After I'd finished my lunch, it was even hotter than it had been before. I decided to take a nice swim to help me cool off.

As I stripped off my dress, I smiled remembering the first time I'd ever swam. I was about eight. An older servant boy, a friend of mine named David, had taught me. It was one of my few fond memories of my time at the manor. I could barely keep afloat. David had to hold me up half the time, but I was determined to learn. I almost drowned while trying, but I eventually succeeded.

I lowered myself down into the cool, calm water, propelling myself downward under the surface. The water felt so nice, so clear and pure. My hair, once tucked into a loose bun, escaped and billowed out around me like angel wings, blackened by dirt. I flung myself out of the water, tossing my long hair over my head as I did so. Then I heard a twig snap…