Prologue – The silver haired girl
The night was windy but clear in Wintersleep Hollow. Painted white by the first snow of the season, the little town silently cheered for the day of the solstice was drawing near. With not much than 2000 habitants, every family had been preparing for weeks for the festival, each having been chosen to take care of a different task: some had to prepare costumes, while others were in charge of the music, dances and feast. Everyone happily played their role in this traditional and important annual event, the pride of the town, created to thank and please God and hope for even better days and harvest. Well, everyone but my family, that is.
You certainly are wondering why, right? Hum, well. Let's just say we definitely would never be seen walking out of church on Sundays nor praying much as a matter-of-fact. Not to the Jewish God, at least. Besides, unlike everyone else, we don't exactly live in downtown, you see. Our cottage is located deep into the Starless Forest, hidden by a strong barrier put there by our ancestors. For all people knew, we were nothing but legends, ancient stories parents told their little children before sleep to teach them never to follow strangers or venture inside the sea of trees.
Things haven't always been like this though. There was a time we actually got along pretty well with the folks and even performed some healing services here and there. But an incident involving missing children occurred and apparently someone thought we were behind it. Everyone went mad, it was total chaos. Villagers came together in the plaza to demand justice. Anyone that had come in contact with us, even if briefly, were suspected of colluding in our favor and ended up being targeted, especially old people. After that, we weren't allowed to leave our houses and nobody would sell nor buy anything from us. We were forbidden to carry on with our treatments, which resulted in unnecessary loss. In no time, our relationship with the village was severely broken. Aunty Jeanne, my most beloved godmother, tried to mend things, but ended up being caught and used as an example. We were forced to watch as she slowly turned into an unrecognizable black corpse. In the end, to protect the innocent, the Zodialk council decided the best course of action was to isolate ourselves in the forest, never to be seen again. And that's when the myths about us began.
It's been more than one hundred years, but I still vividly remember things like the smell of burnt skin or how loud pain can make one scream. I was only fifty then, so the way my childlike-self perceived what was happening probably doubled the amount of horror. Anyway, the sensation I felt then, it's still within me and worsens every time I try to sleep. It never leaves.
So, now, here I am, on the verge of my first journey on my own. In a few days, there will be my coming-of-age ceremony, when I'll be granted the permission to venture in the world outside of the barrier with nothing more than a list of tasks and one backpack.
Though I've been outside a few times, there was always someone else from the family by me and we never went further than Wintersleep Hollow's boundary. With the saying "one can't be too careful" in mind, we would always use illusion spells in order to remain unnoticed, but even so this town still found it difficult to be kind to strangers. My hidden hatred intensified. That felt so unfair to me. What happened with "thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself" I hear you singing every Sunday?! Hypocrites. Those people probably never even regretted what they had done.
Since our lifespan is more than ten times that of a human, for the last decades I had watched them grow old as I remained young. Babies I'd seen being born now were already under the earth after having lived a "fulfilling life". Nobody I knew personally before the incident had remained. I wondered when I would be able to let go. I had to get away from this place.