Chapter I
In the dead of winter, the calm town of Shrine Mourne, England stayed in its peacefully state. Wind brushed softly against the windows of the sleeping people of the little town. The old houses creaking with just the cool gust of wind as they looked as though they were once a gorgeous luxury house. In this small town, all neighbors greeted each other with warm comfort, cheer, and love. But, it was a mask. Everyone turned their backs to the truth of this town, hoping to be spared from the tyrant of a mayor. Their mayor was turning them all into puppets, keeping them quiet as their children lives soared into hell from taunts of being cursed by witches and wizards. The single utter of magic ran shivers into the spines of the Shine Mourne's people. But, much more was to become of this town… with time.
The sounds of birds wing flew into the air, lamp lights turned off as an old woman with a dress as white as her hair slowly paced herself to a house down onto the left side of Herman street, House 14. Where the beginning of a great journey would take play.
She turned left, right, and all around. Suspecting someone to be eavesdropping, she hesitated to even faintly whisper a name. Her yellow teeth were wreaking havoc on her sore bottom lip. Days of a nerve shattering decision laid on her shoulders. Her fingers twiddled together while her eyes soured from one direction to another.
"Nervous, Helena?" A deep voice cracked the silence. Helena was startled, causing her teeth to latch down on her lip causing her tender lips to bleed. A speck of blood hit the pure white snow. The old maid whipped around searching for the voice. She raised her palm up into the air, making out what direction the noise came from.
"Joseph… this is no time for games." She growled underneath her breathe. A ghostly figure appeared out from the shade of an oak tree. His hair was red as fire, cheeks the color of a rose. His nose has a bump in the center, as though it looked as if he got it in a childhood fight. His clothes were sleek and flawless. He made no waste in smiling at the old woman's impatience. He took no time to glide over to her, making her breath end up cut short. He handed her a perfectly folded napkin, she took it with a frown that was hiding a smile.
"Thank you, sir." She spoke softly, patting her lip dry.
"Helena, dear… Stop with the costume. Do you really think they'll see you? If they see you they will bur into flames. No mortal can lay eyes of the Goddess of Irea. The most perfect creature in the whole Kingdom." He gave a sly smile as he took her hand in his. "Making me... her loyal God."
She pulled her hand back, tears welt up in her eyes. Her face looking more rigid with her fake wrinkles clawing across her face. "They are going to take him away from us." Joseph's breath hitched up, knowing this day would destroy them both.
"Helena... by the Gods of Dytrimita. I swear... he will become one of us again. He will take the crown from the witch and succeed his destiny. He was made for the role. The elders choose him of all the new borns. He is-" His words were cut off by his wife, who did not dare let him finish.
"Our son, Joseph! Why him of all the young boys of Irea? Why did the heir to the thrown have to be the one to come to this world? Why did my only child have to be the one to save us all from them? Those horrible savages have to see our baby boy everyday while his own mother can't! I carried him in me for nine months, just so they can defile him!" Her tears spilt over her face... breaking the enchantment she placed onto herself.
Her white battered hair became a long flowing wave of gold, reaching just below her now voluptuous butt. Her ears became lengthy and turned into those of an elf. The body underneath the dress became thinner and busty, into nice curves to make any man drool. Her skin removed its wrinkles and turned into soft, smooth porcelain. Her pure satin, white dress made her look more heavenly. Her looks could make a faithful husband into a pig in seconds. She was a goddess, the most powerful of them all.
Joseph took his sobbing wife into his arms, trying to smooth her rough edges with him calm words.
"He will be fine, Helena. He's going to be written into the star when he grows up. We will be proud of our son, soon enough. Then he will be back in your arms." He whipped away what was left of the remaining tears. She gave a soft nod, and approved it was time. With the flick of his wrist, a baby was now floating softly down into the mother's arms. She caressed her son one final time.
"He will be protected… yes?" She asked, looking as though another sobbing fit was about to erupt as she lied her son down on the steps of House 14.
"Yes, love." He groaned, rubbing his wrist. "I put the enchantment on him… He will always be protected. It will glow until I die. When I die... he'll be on his own. We have enough time. It's time to go Helena." She kissed the tip of his head, with that… the couple disappeared, leaving a child for a stranger to find.
The baby lied there till the next morning when a single mother found him lying there. The mother found him mysterious, yet perfect in an odd way. She smiled at the child, with love in her eyes just as the mother had when she left him on the door step of House 14.
Tate Decker read the last word written of the filthy notebook that she pulled out of her crush's torn and worn up messenger bag that lay next to his locker. The pale green thing had buttons and patches of band sticking from every direction while a white circle and red-cross was neatly placed in the middle. His art always made her heart beat fast and slow at the same time. She always wondered if it made sense, or was it just her that found him completely intoxicating.
She wondered if her thoughts ever made sense. She was always known as that crazy girl, the loner one in the corner taking pictures of interesting and non-interesting things. Her main objective was building up the courage to talk to the boy of her dreams, the only other loner in her high school of Shrine Mourne High. Her presence made her a target for rejection, as she was not the cute head cheerleader type. She had a pixie cut that always had a beanie over it to hide her eyes. Her natural red hair was not hard to spot. Glasses were always on to protect her eyes too, with big black frames over the lenses. No one at school knew her eye color. But she liked it that way, it was a surprise that no one would ever have.
Her clothes were not the fashion sense in the town; her whole get up was made her look freakish to the small town with her creeper shoes, a button up shirt, a big sweater over it, and tight jeans to show off her small legs. But she didn't care whether she was in or out. All she wanted was at least a hello from him. Chase Clarkson. Her crush since she first met him in pre-school, while she ate glue and sand. He was the object of attention in all the adult's eyes. No one knew his true parents; no one knew where he had come from. He was left on Ms. Clarkson's doorstep two weeks after her husband died after she tried so hard for a child. It soon ended up that she was able to get pregnant and was pregnant… just a week after her husband's fatal car crash. Leaving her alone, with only Chase and a bump in her belly… Ms. Clarkson never complained about her worries and hardships though. She loved both of them, but sometimes it seemed like she loved Chase more.
She held the notebook close to her chest and sighed. Knowing in the back of her mind, Chase would never know how much she likes him. As she was going to put the book away, footsteps and voices filled the air. Knowing if she was caught in the Men's Locker Room, she'd get sent straight to her principal. She lifted herself up and ran into a storage closet to wait out the guys then run straight away as fast as she could.
Three groups of guy huddled inside the now crowded small dense locker room. Tate silently peeked through the slots of the closest, quickly remembering she left out Chase's things. She mentally slapped herself for being such an idiot with his things like that. But, it was too late. The head boy found it, picking it up flipping to the page she was on. His eyes scanned the page, by the looks of the boy... It was James Bakser. The football star, the guy every girl, well except for Tate, wanted. His blonde hair was spiked up in a way that made the girl want to run their hand threw it. He was considered perfect, straight A's and everything. But his attitude and personality, was a deal breaker.
His eyes scanned the pages, his lips twisted up into a devilish smile. Just as he was about to speak, Chase silently squeezed through the crowd to his area of solitude.
"Look what we got here, Gavin." He nudged his friend to his left. He was tall in stature; buff yet looks like he can carry books not read them. "Goth boy has been writing stories. Good luck, you aren't even that special. Some lame orphan some pregnant 16-year-old gave up, who didn't have enough money to get you out of her."
James tossed the notebook over to Gavin, who chucked in over Chase's head to someone the closet's peek hole was blocking out. Chase's poker face built up, anger and mortification reddened his face. He knew he did not leave his things out; it is not like him to do that.
"Give it back." He growled. James howled in laughter with his buddies, he took a step forward and just by blinking Tate missed it. James had punched Chase in the gut; Gavin took Chase's hands and put them behind his back to make him helpless. Tate covered her mouth and lowered herself into closet to not get up or scream. She knew it would only make matters worse. Tears glistened in her eyes, as she had to hear his gasps for air and his cuss words as each hit knocked him to the ground more and more. This was not the first time she had to watch him go down.
Her head started to pound as she heard him cough up what must be blood, the laughter soon died down and footsteps trailed off out the door way. They were done with him for today. She listened harder and waited for Chase to get dressed and go, so she could make a run for it. She slowly stood up, trying to not even make a creek or rustling noise for it would blow her cover. She peered out into the locker room, to see him putting on his jeans and baggy shirt on his sore body. Every movement made him groan. Oh, how she just wanted to go up to him and make the pain disappear. But, he didn't even know her name.
She waited till he started for the door to pick up her stuff off the filthy closet floor, when she heard something hit the trash can and the door slam shut. She looked out from the peeking hole to check for any boys still in the room. She waited 5 minutes to be sure she was truly safe, then cautiously made her way into the open locker room. She started for the door, until curiosity got in the way. She leaned over to see what could he have thrown away to make such a huge noise, only to see his filthy notebook filled with the stories she loved.