The Magpie's Broken Wing

A/N: Ok, so I haven't given up on Beware of Me! I just don't have the rest of it with me at this precise moment… So, I decided to keep you interested in me and post the prologue to my new story… Please review and tell me what you think! If you like it I will write more!

Prologue

The Magpie struck again that night. He only came on the nights without a moon and only stole from houses that were empty. They called him the Magpie because he only stole things that shone. Valuably furniture was left. Portraits worth thousands ignored. But every knife and fork would be gone. Every silver ornament never to be seen again.

The Magpie had never been seen. It was only by assumption that they called him a male. But he frustrated others. They all knew which night he would strike. They all knew which houses he preferred to rob. So on the night of the new moon all houses would be occupied. All the men would be seated in their front hall, their hunting rifle against their chest and their fingers on the trigger. All the women would sit in their bed, the covers pulled up to their chin, enjoying the exhilaration of danger.

But there was always one. There was always one house. Perhaps the man heard a sound and went to check on the gardens. He would venture back to into his home to find it almost empty. It was almost inconceivable. The Master of the house had been gone for a matter of seconds. Either the Magpie was the leader of an impressive gang or…he wasn't human.

But no one was truly bothered by him. He was an inconvenience true, but cutlery is always simple to replace, and silver not difficult to love. But at one house the Magpie stole a little more than objects. The man's wife disappeared that night as well.

It was a most strange turn of events. Nobody had heard her leave. She had not raised any fuss if she was kidnapped. The servant standing outside her door swore that no one had entered or left her room and the window was locked with the key in the kitchen. But that was not the strangest detail.

Her husband, upon opening the door was suddenly lost in a flurry of rose petals. They blew through his hair and into his eyes. But they were not red, no they were white and some of them dyed black. It was as if the Magpie was living up to his name, for it was most certainly he. The bed looked as if it had never been slept upon. There was no comforting indent in the pillow where the woman had laid her head. The sheets were as smooth as the day they were ironed and neatly tucked in at the bottom. And upon the smoothened pillow there lay a note which read:

My greetings to the Master of the House,

I fear that the hair upon your lady's head shone far too brightly too resist. My apologies for the inconvenience but we men are spontaneous creatures are we not?

Yours Sincerely, the Magpie

The note caused such anger amongst the men! For it was not only that he had taken a wife, but that he dared sign himself off as the Magpie! They could see him laughing in his cave! (For of course he would live in one as all outlaws do.) He was making a jest of their insult. That was found almost as unforgivable as the kidnapping.

Some days later the woman was found seated in the woodland surrounding the village. She was clothed in a gown of such fine silk it felt like water and around her throat hung pearls of the finest value. Her skin was as clean and pale as it had ever been and she wore a hat of the finest make. In all honesty it was the hat that drew most attention. No one could agree on what colour it was; some said blue, others green, occasionally there were a few who insisted it was of sunset tones. It had a wide brim that shaded her face in the most appealing of manners and gave her whole appearance a fairly mystical air.

Another peculiarity was that her face was made up. Her lips painted a subtle red and her cheeks brushed with powder. They could not see her eyes for they were bound shut with a silken ash blindfold.

The woman was silent as they led her back to her house. They did not remove the blindfold for fear that she would be traumatized by her surroundings. They worried for her in the patronizing way that only men can. But still…she would not speak.

Back at her home her husband gave a cry of relief and lifted her hat so he could kiss her. The room fell silent. For where her hair should have been she had none. It had been cut from her scalp and taken away. She sat there, head bowed as the men stared.

She did not speak for days. And to the men she did not speak for months. It was only to her closest friends that she told a little of her tale…

"I was awoken quite late at night by a strange noise. I sounded peculiarly like pebbles against my window. I went to open it but was unable to do so without a key and so returned to bed. But I could not get back to sleep for the sounds continued. Eventually, I abandoned my bed and sat beside the window, waiting to see what was causing the sound."

"Were you not afraid?" interrupted a friend. "It was the night of the Magpie. Anything could have happened." The woman laughed.

"I did not think to be afraid. The right word would be curious. I wanted to know what caused the noise. I found that there was a delicious air of mystery to the whole event. There was no moon and-"The woman suddenly paused, frowning as a thought struck her. "There weren't any stars either. The night sky was as black as tar, but it still glowed…" Her sentence trailed into nothing and her friends sat silent, waiting for her to continue.

"It was as if the sky was a blanket!" The woman smiled, relieved to have put her thoughts to words. "It was a black shroud flung over a bright light. No cracks could be seen but the glow of the light was still visible! It was like daylight but through a black veil." Her friends looked at her and shook their heads. For there could not be a glowing night. Light belonged to the day and dark belonged to the night. If the woman had noticed their glances she did not let on. The story continued.

"As I sat the noises suddenly stopped and everything was silent."

"Could you not hear the voices? There were people patrolling the streets and the woods all night long. They were far from silent." The woman took her time replying to the second interruption.

"I could hear them but I couldn't. They were as unimportant as a bird song. When I heard the pebble sound it filled my ears and when they stopped it was as if all I could hear was their absence. Other sounds did not matter and I did not register them." A general air of enthrallment filled the room.

"As I sat there I realized that someone else was in my bedroom. It was not that I heard him or that I saw him, but I just knew. So we-"

"How could you not have been scared then?!" The friend from earlier broke in once more. "There was a strange man in your room! Why were you not terrified?"

"Because there was no reason to be afraid. There are people in this world who you know are no good at a first glance; and then there are the ones who you can tell are good. They may not smile and look kind but you can just… you can just tell." She was quite for a little, waiting for another interruption. When none came she began once more.

"I did not turn round because I was afraid that if I did the room would be empty. For some reason I wanted the person to be there. I wanted to see him."

"There was not a sound but somehow I could feel him walking forwards. I could feel him getting closer. And that was when I turned around."

"What did he look like?!"

"Was he young?"

"Did he carry weapons?"

"Did he have battle scars?"

The woman waited until the question died out before continuing her tale.

"He was clothed in all black. A black so deep that it seemed to melt into the shadows. His face was covered by silken cloth, also black and all I could see where his eyes. They were…purple. Violet even. And his skin was so pale it was nearly clear." There was another silence as the woman became lost in thought.

"His hair?" She was brought back with another question.

"Black." She did not elaborate anymore on this and instead started to carry on. But that was not to be accepted by her friends who demanded a better explanation.

"I don't know, it was just…black. It was as black as black could get. You see some people who have black hair that appears brown in the sunlight. And there are some whose hair is almost black. But his was not. It was most definitely black."

"Like the night sky?" There was almost a scornful edge to that question.

"No, for his hair had no glow to it. It had a shine but the sky had seemed to be bright within itself." She stopped and looked around the room. "Are there to be any more questions or may I continue?" The room was silent.

"He looked at me for a while and then removed his mask. He smiled at me and began to laugh. I am not sure why he laughed but I know that it was not at me. Maybe he was just laughing because he felt like it but I joined in. You do not realize how nice it was to laugh. Properly laugh I mean. Laugh that did not need be held back for society's sake. He stopped and smiled at me once more.

'Do you want to come with me?' I nodded and I am still unsure why. I did not know anything about him and he knew nothing about me. But I wanted to go. I wanted to leave with him. So, I did not think, and I did."

"But how did you leave? Nobody saw you."

"I myself am not sure of what happened. It seemed like one second we were in my bedroom and the next we were in the woods. But it did not matter at the time. I suddenly felt very unrestricted. Very…free one might say. The two of us ran through the woods and as we ran more and more people came out from the trees and ran with us. There must have been at least one hundred of us when we reached the village. For that was what it was like. A small group of huts huddled closely together."

"In front of the houses sat a small boy, his hair the same black as the man beside me. He stood up when he saw us arrive and ran to my companion who lifted him into the air. It struck me at that point that no one had even considered the thought that the Magpie had a family. But there before me stood a boy who couldn't have been anything but his son."

"A son?! But surely, if he has a son he must have a wife as well! How could you have stayed with a married man?!"

"There was no mention of a wife or love of any kind. She did not appear throughout the whole duration of my stay and no one hinted that she existed. Maybe she died, maybe she ran away, I do not know." Her friends re-seated themselves, mollified with her explanation.

"Those few days were the most fun that I have ever had. I did things that I would never have imagined doing once before. I got my hands dirty. I got my clothes dirty. I played with that little boy, I actually played with him! Something I have always longed to do with my own daughter was playing out." Again, she stopped to talk, lost in her memories.

"Did he kiss you?" All her friends leaned forward at this question for it was what they were all dying to know. The woman had the decency to lower her head a little and blush before replying.

"Once, but you must never tell my husband!" She looked up in sudden panic, realizing all that she was saying could be dangerous. The other women hurriedly assured her of their silence, eager for her to continue.

"It was not a romantic kiss. It was not dramatic. But it was…normal." The woman lowered her eyes once more.

"Normal?" they pressed.

"I was playing with his son outside of the little hut. He came out and I could feel him watching us. He walked over and stood above us. I looked up to speak to him and he just leaned down." She watched her friends cautiously. "It was the kiss a husband would give his wife." All the other women leaned back in disappointment. They had been wanting something wonderful, something forbidden.

"But it was interesting." Their attention returned to her. "When he kissed me, it was in a way that my husband had never had."

"Then why did you come back? If it was as magical as you say."

"I would have done. But I was afraid that if I stayed too long the magic of it would vanish. That it would become as dull and long as my life is here. I would rather spend but a few days, and remember the time as perfect, than live the rest of my life in regret."

"So how did you persuade him to let you back?"

"He did not need persuading. I told him my reasoning and he agreed. He brought out the clothes for me, said I could not go back looking mistreated."

"Why were you blindfolded?"

"It was what I asked for. I did not want to see where the village was. I did not want to picture it the woods I have always lived beside."

"But your hair?"

The woman laughed at that.

"It was just before he left me. He did not ask for it. I was not sure what he was doing until I felt the weight of it leave my shoulders."

"But what did he say as he did it?"

"Nothing. He left me in the same way he had arrived. Without a sound, but I knew."

"And then you were found?"

"Yes." The friends realized that the story was done and they took their leave. As they passed through the living room her husband stood to meet them.

"Did she tell you anything?" His face was blank but his eyes worried. The women held a silent conference and then shook their heads.

"Nothing." They left it at that and all went their own ways. The secret was not for them to share.

The next month all the men were ready for the Magpie and all the women, rather than in their beds, sat at their windows, they're hearts in their mouths. But he did not come. Nor the next month or the month after that. He was gone. The Magpie had taken flight.

The woman's hair grew back and she slowly became more like herself, much to the reassurance of her husband. But, at night she would tell the story to her daughter. One night she took out what she had kept from her friends.

"Isn't it lovely?" she asked her daughter, holding out. Her daughter looked and in her mother's palm there laid a bracelet. But it was not a bracelet as she had known for it was made of hair. A strand of black hair was plaited into a strand similar to that of her mother's.

For it had been a lie when the woman told her friends that the Magpie had left with nothing more. She had this. Two colours making one. She picked up her daughter's wrist and slid the bracelet on.

"Look at it Kagome," she whispered. "Isn't beautiful?"

A/N: Well anyway, don't forget to review! If you like it, tell me, and I will write more chapters!