CHAPTER ONE
Dragonstone
The candle in the centre of the table burnt bright as the flame flickered to and fro. Heavy rain pelted against the roof of the small cottage and we all thanked the blessing we'd been given. Rain fed the crops which in turn fed us, but the enduring length of the rain has lasted weeks. Chores are harder, if near impossible, along with many other things. There's even been whispers that perhaps this downpour means more than we think.
A message from the Gods.
Flashes of lightening and crackles of thunder echoed along the walls and windows as we sat huddled together. Supper is simple with a few potatoes and chunks of dried beef. There isn't much to go around as of late, but the three of us manage like we always do.
"It'll stop soon enough" spoke my older brother, Eirden. A head taller than me, he's no longer the skinny boy I grew up with but a hardworking man. He often helps Father when it came to harvesting the crops or herding the small flock of cattle we owned.
"I wish it would stop now" I muttered "It feels miserable, just lingering about"
My head rested in the palm of one of my hands as I sat poking at the pieces of food on my plate. My Father gave a reassuring smile and gestured "Why don't you eat. The rain will stop when it's ready. Besides, I'm sure you haven't missed anything" he added "You and your friends"
"Friends?" I scoffed with a shake of my head "I want to see the sun again. Feel the wind. It's too small to be stuck in this house"
"What are you trying to say?" jested my brother, trying to lighten the mood.
Giving a short laugh and smile in return, I ate the rest of supper. Being the last to finish, I stood up and collected the plates. Taking them to the wash bucket, I cleaned up before heading toward one of the small rooms. I don't have much in terms of belongings, but there's enough for myself; a single bed pushed up against the wall and a wooden cupboard just opposite of it. A square window nestled in-between.
Peering out, the sun had rested a while ago and it's now dark outside; the glow of the moon shining atop the soft hills and toward the cliffs. Our small village rested a short walk from the ocean. You can always hear the waves crashing against the shore line. It's a soothing sound, one that would always calm me down and lull me to sleep.
Sitting by the small vanity, I struck a match to light a nearby candle. My face illuminated in the mirror and I couldn't help but stare at myself, like I do most nights. My appearance startled and confused people at first; mostly foreigners, travellers and traders. They didn't quite understand the circumstances of my affliction, or my so called traits of a house I never truly belonged to.
The condition isn't unheard of, in fact, there's others like myself amongst the villages of Dragonstone. However, in truth, we're outcasts who're looked down upon by those around us. Nothing but a lingering reminder of a tradition long since rejected.
Untying the strings of my white head cap, I watched as my silverly locks fell down in waves. Flowing over my shoulders, my fingers ran through and like many other times I wondered what I would look like if it were different; if I'd been born to look like everyone else. Would it be better or worse?
Rubbing my tired eyes, I felt the familiar sting of fatigue as it filled my body. Stretching my arms, I undid the ties of my dress before slipping out of it and into something more appropriate for sleep. Plaiting my locks, my fingers grazed over the silver necklace and ruby pendant that rested against my chest. It's one of the last pieces I have left of my Mother.
Nineteen years ago she died giving birth to me. When she passed they burnt her body on a pyre by the ocean, her ashes scattering with the wind and sea. When I'd feel alone I would always go out to that same spot and talk to her. I liked to think she's still here with us and so does my Father. Every now and then I'd hear him whisper her name, but he'd never talk about her.
I know it must be painful, even after all this time, and so I never mentioned her either. However, the one thing my Father did tell me is that I look just like her, with my pale skin and silvery hair. The detail brought me comfort to believe that she's the bigger part of me, the better part. It's the only reason why I haven't cut off my horrid locks, knowing that if I did I would be cutting her away too.
Slipping under the covers of my bed, I tucked myself in and stared up at the roof as I listened to the rain. Lightening flashed every once in a while and it wasn't long until I drifted into the realm of sleep. That night my dreams were filled with endless shapes and adventures, ones that made sense and ones that didn't. Either way they made me want for something more.
I woke the next morning to the peculiar sound of silence, an eerie kind.
There's no rain, no birds or anything of the sort. Pushing the blanket off of myself, I moved to look out of the window to see the sun barely shining through the thick layer of clouds. The storm seemed to have finally passed over night and a morbid aftermath had taken its place. Wrapping a shawl around myself, I stepped out of my bedroom to soon realise no one is home. Where could they have gone and why didn't they wake me?
"Eirden?" I called out, but there was no reply.
Swiftly turning around, I headed back into my room to get changed. Snatching my cap off of the vanity table, I quickly shoved my hair in place and out of site before heading outside. It was somewhat bright compared to inside and I had to shield my eyes.
The smell of dewy rain filled my nose along with the muddy grass. There's a few people already up and about and I could see the strange look on their faces. Something isn't right. Trying not to slip along the mud and sludge covering the ground, I looked this way and that; trying to figure out where my Father and Eirden might have gone. It was then that I heard the gust of commotion.
A large group of people had huddled around the end of the village. Getting closer, I soon realised that one of the homes had been completely destroyed. The roof and walls had caved in, there was nothing left but a mass of rubble. It was an utterly horrible mess and I couldn't help the shock that overcame me, so much that I hadn't noticed Eirden until he called my name.
"Visenna. What are you doing here?" he spoke firmly while trying to usher me away from the scene "Let's go. I'll take you home"
I shook my head "What happened?"
My brother sighed "It was the storm, now let's go. You don't need to be here for this"
"For what?" I questioned "Are they alright?"
Eirden held a sad and regretful look "They're dead"
My heart skipped a beat "All of them? Roran?"
Roran was a good little boy; nine years younger than myself with big round eyes. He always smiled and loved to play with the other children. Looking up at my brother, he gave a nod of his head and a terrible swell of sickness filled me. None of us saw this coming. Everyone was fine and we'd endured storms before.
It never killed anyone, until now.
Placing his hand on my shoulder, Eirden tried his best to comfort me, but when I looked back I couldn't hold the tears. They spilt from the corner of my eyes as I watched them carry the small body wrapped in cloth away from the wreckage. Shrugging my brother's hand I turned to march away. Heading back to the house, I closed the door with a firm thud. My back pressed against it for support as I wiped the tears away.
A moment later I was jolted as a knock echoed out along with my Fathers voice. Turning to let him in, he gave a gentle sigh "Eirden told me you were there"
"Yes" I nodded "You weren't home when I woke. I went to find you" I shook my head in disbelief "How did this happen?"
"In truth, I don't know" he replied "We found them this morning. No one knew until then. I would say they were asleep when it happened"
"And how does that matter? Their dead either way. But their little boy, Roran. He was only ten" my hand reached up touch my cheek "For all we know they could have been calling out for us, stuck for days on end"
My eyes pinched shut at the horrible thought. My Father sighed "I know how this might sound, but it would be better if you didn't think about it. What happened was a tragedy, but there's nothing we can do now. Try and keep yourself busy. There's a lot that needs to be done now the storm's passed. Focus on that"
I wanted to berate my Father over his harsh words, but deep down I know it's what needed to be done. I cared about Roran and his parents were kind people, but they're gone. I could sit here and cry over their deaths, or I could move on with the living. It's one of the cruelties of this world. It doesn't stop for anyone – not even Kings.
Nodding my head, I straightened my back and skirt "Then, I'll get to work"
Grabbing the weaved basket which sat by the front door, I headed out with not another word. Making my way toward the backside of the house, I looked toward the vegetable patch I kept enclosed in a small fenced off area. It was never anything special, but I took good care of it and I immediately cursed the world for destroying it.
The garden and its vegetables are all lopsided, some of them torn from the ground and rotten. It would take some effort to get things sorted back to the way they were. No doubt I'd lose most of the harvest, but at least it's not all gone. Taking up most of the day I pulled and plucked the bad vegetables and a handful of weeds that grown, while trying to avoid the getting too much mud on myself.
Wiping the sweat from my brow, the garden started to look much tidier than before. Once the clouds go away and the mud starts to dry out, things will get easier. Cleaning my hands on the apron of my dress, I moved on to the rest of my duties; fetching water, running errands and preparing meals. The endlessness of the day took a lot of this morning's thoughts from my mind, just as Father had said. I'm somewhat grateful. But deep down I know that when the day settled and I'm lying in bed at night, I'll remember.
And then all I could really be thankful for is that at least it wasn't us.