Hello everyone and welcome to The Black Art! I am pleased to put out the first chapter and I hope to be met with constructive criticism and comments! Please note any errors for me to change and enjoy!
Sunlight streamed onto patches of grass, penetrating trees and drawing insects to the warm glow. Freshly rain-coated leaves shivered with the breeze, and with them appeared a shadow. It was only one or two leaves that had moved but there was no mistake that Halt had seen the flesh of a human figure perched amongst the dense branches. It was the first time he had actually seen the intruder, but until then there was no sign that it was a human that was committing the deed. For nearly a week, he had noted irregularities within the Redmont woods: birds would sing at the top of their tiny lungs in the midnight hours, butterflies would float out of nowhere in the frigid air, and even his horse had suspiciously gone missing for a few moments. The animals were behaving in an odd manner, and he was determined to figure out why.
At first, the man had noticed nothing suspicious; birds were meant to chirp and deer could prance wherever they preferred, but a family of deer inside his cottage, warming in front of his fireplace, was asking for too much. His cottage remained his and his own only. Of course, it was only a few days later that Halt was returning from his coffeepot in the dead of night when he discovered a rabbit with her six younglings curled under his pillow, and when he had thrown them out of his house (red in the face and cursing mother nature), he realized that his entire door was covered in mystery snails. Gold, black, and ivory were amass and sliding across the wood, leaving behind the sticky slime that took him hours to chip off.
Yes, Halt was very determined to find the cause of the mystery. His gaze followed the branches to where the shadow had appeared. All was calm until the northern winds swept in, and he raised his notched bow at the moving mass.
"Come down," he growled, "and I won't put an arrow through you."
Halt was undeniably exaggerating, for it could have been a child for all he knew. He had seen young Will lurking in the forest on multiple occasions and wasn't too keen on injuring an innocent person. But when the trees froze and the branches grew still, all that jumped out from the safety of the limbs was a black cat that trotted to him and began rubbing its body against his shin with a purr louder than thunder. Halt kept his eyes open during his sleep for the next week. Black cats were not to be trusted.
"Hey! Avina! I got you a pie!"
A girl of fifteen turned around, swishing brown curls and revealing honey colored eyes. A gentle smile lifted her lips and she noted the blueberry pie staining the boy's hands purple. She stared at it for a moment, knowing that it had come warm from the oven and placed on the cooling trays of Master Chubb's revered kitchen, and she glanced at the equally warm boy who had been her wardmate for years.
She smiled devilishly. "Will, you know I like the raspberry tarts."
He mumbled an apologetic "oh," before stuffing the pie into his mouth. She stifled a laugh as crust crumbles fell out of the cavern he called a mouth, and blue goo dribbled down his chin.
"Alyss is coming this way."
Will's eyes widened to about the same size as the pie he was destroying, and he quickly smeared off the string of jelly with the back of his wrist, leaving a noticeable purple stain on the white sleeve. As he swiveled around to greet the blonde girl and hid the pie behind his back, Avina rolled her eyes to the clouds. Of course, Will would rather ruin his chances at looking presentable for Choosing Day than lose his chances with Alyss. If only he knew that she was in love with him as much as he loved her...
Avina snapped out of the thought as Alyss laughed at something that Will had said, and said boy was now blushing. Taking a hint, she started in the opposite direction and began strolling down the dirt path that led into the woods. Passing by food carts lined with all sorts of colored fruits and men behind wooden vendors pleading for walkers to take a look at their precious jewelry, her eye caught a dirt-smudged sign on top of a shop.
The building was at the very edge of Redmont, and a small area of space surrounded it as if nobody wanted a part of it. The wood was cracked and blackened, and there were many holes into which one could look through. Shingles were on the verge of falling off, threatening to tumble from the roof with a tiny breeze. Although the ramshackle building was undoubtedly haunting, she felt intrigued by the sign perched on a beam above the door. It read, through layers of mud and char, "The Black Art". The door looked as though a slight push could throw it off its hinges and before Avina could realize what she was doing, she gave a tentative knock-knock.
The door swung open and there stood the shadow of a very tall and very large figure.
"May I help you with something?" came a harsh cackle.
This was the last time, Halt thought, that anyone would screw with him. He'd had enough with the snuggling bunnies, the slimy snails, and most of all, the family of sparrows that were nesting inside his cupboard. But the one thing that had driven him to absolute insanity was the cobra curled up in the can, sitting atop what suspiciously looked to be gleaming eggs buried in his beloved coffee. Halt was very much ready to kill for these animals to stay away from his cottage and leave him be. It didn't help that it was nearly time to ride up to the castle to claim Will as his apprentice, and his horse was not to be seen.
He had called for Abelard for what seemed like hours, and when the shaggy pony did come back, he smelled of apples and refused to tell his master where (or whom) he had been prancing off to. Halt's bad mood worsened impossibly more, and as he trudged into town on his happy horse, a little dark cloud followed atop his head. People already believed that the Ranger practiced Black Magic, but when they saw the rumbling thundercloud that hovered over the top of his form, they could do nothing but stare with large eyes and whisper to each other in horror. It was only after he had paid the trembling stable hand (why were these people cowering in fear?) that the manifestation disappeared, and he made his way up the stairs to the Baron's study.
The children were already lined up in Martin's order from tallest to shortest, regardless of gender. As he silently appeared behind Baron Arald, he felt a pair of eyes scorching him. Halt looked up from the cowl of his cloak to find not one pair, but two. The first pair belonged to the not-quite-so-little-anymore Will who was standing next to a much larger boy who would no doubt aim for Battleschool. At his to-be apprentice's right side stood a tiny girl. Had her presence not been there, Will would have surely been subjected to the humiliation of being last in the descending line.
The girl was a full head shorter than Will, which put her at an abnormally small height, with eyes darker than charcoal and lips that just barely turned upwards in a questionable smile. It reminded him of Pauline, with her diplomatic way of being amused and never showing it. He wondered just what the child thought was so funny and nearly missed Will's clambering to be accepted by any of the present Craftmasters. One by one, they refused him, and his pleading brown orbs shimmered with tears. He lowered his head and closed his eyes before the waterworks spilled out along with his pride. Halt took this as his cue and murmured a gruff "my lord", handing the Baron a slip of paper along with a "there's something you must know about this boy", just loud enough for Will to hear.
The distraught boy's head shot up and he stared at the little piece of paper that seemed to spell out his fate. Halt could see the look of despair leave the boy's head as his eyebrows furrowed into a look of determination. He hid a smile in his cowl. His work was done, for now.
"We will discuss your fate later, Will," the Baron noted with an apology in his voice. "Next is..."
"Avina A-Estrela, my Lord," Martin supplied.
The Horsemaster uttered something under his breath, clearly meant for only himself but the girl replied, "It's the only one I have, Master Ulf."
She said so with an unabashed twinkle in her eye and the caught Craftmaster muttered a stiff apology. The Baron glared in disapproval at the Horsemaster's rudeness but it was clear that the Master and child had some sort of beef.
"And your preferred profession, Avina?" Arald asked, betting that the child would ask for perhaps the Diplomatic Services or the Kitchen. Maybe even Scribeschool.
"None, my Lord," she replied sweetly, "I have no wish for any of the presented crafts."
The seven adults were startled, whether at her honey-like tone or her answer, but startled nonetheless. Halt watched as Will's eyebrows shot up incredulously and he whispered a harsh question to her.
Avina seemingly ignored her friend, and the Baron continued, "Then you choose to work as a farmhand?"
Her lips quirked and she stole a glance to the Ranger before stating, "I have an even less desire to work as a farmhand." She then gave a low-sweeping bow and held it through her monologue. "I thank you for your hospitality at the ward, Baron Arald, but seeing as I am no longer eligible to stay, I bid you adieu." And with that, a puff of orange smoke brighter than the ripest tangerine erupted from her and enveloped the entire room, leaving everyone in it with coughs and teary eyes. When the smoke had cleared, five children remained and one was gone.