Yes, yes. I know I haven't finished or worked on my other fanfics and this is probably not going to ever be finished but it's a;; just some fun literate practice right? Anyway, this is ma' third fanfic and my first REAL attempt to actually write something worthy to e called story. I think… Still, please RR and no flames! Thanx!

Disclaimer: I own… nothing…

It's not just the way people in town look at me. Or how they always talk about me behind my back, thinking I don't know they're there. Or even how everyone likes to keep their distance from me, how Aubury the town astrologer smacks his lips and glares, or how Hebert the town merchant always closes up shop when I'm around. I just have the feeling that something just isn't right about me. It's not that I'm attracted to anyone of the same sex or hang around with the local drunkards or anything like that. It's just a feeling I get.

But I suppose you want to hear a little about me. Not about my boring history or anything along those lines, but I mean, I'm sure you want to know who I am. I couldn't tell you about my past anyway because, truthfully, I don't remember all that much. Only that I was an orphan 'til the age of nine. Anyway, my name is Ibel and I'm the grateful son of a rather well-to-do armorer named Alvere, who was kind enough to take in a homeless child as his own. Most of the townsfolk respects him for both his arduous professional skills as a craftsman as well as his rather popular personality that he shared with the public. Many knights and lords of the land travel especially to our town of Durrun for only the best of armory in this part of the world, located near the southern rim of the Gulf Of Westmarch. I knew this when I'd come across a mare-colored map of our side of the hemisphere resting on an oil wood table in my father's room one night.

Anyway, people have come to know me. And that doesn't exactly mean they like me. I'm pretty sure the only reason I walk through the village without being shunned or harmed too bad is because of my father's reputation. I'm not quite sure why they keep themselves from me though. Gossip hangs in the air about superstitions and ill omens, and most are centered around me. I had heard from my father once that, on the day he'd taken me in as one of his own, the livestock in one of the nearby farmer's settlements died of an unknown cause. But that isn't the only event that led to my alienation, though I'm not quite sure of the others.

Anyhow, I suppose I should tell you what happened from the beginning. How all of it started. Not about how I had discovered my past, but how my past discovered me…

-

In the morning of the first day of the harvesting season, I awoke to that all familiar smell of unfamiliarity. The smell of old, rotting wood and moist earth filled my screaming lungs. The feel of soft moss sponged beneath my fingers, powdery dirt flecked in my eyes and in my mouth and coating my arms and legs. It was always like this, every month or so. I spat, trying rid myself of the awful grit between my teeth and the coppery taste of my own blood. It had been those 'B' brothers again; Bugg, Bain, and Baldan, the notorious bullies of Durrun. Yesterday it seems, they'd decided to knock me around for awhile yet again, mostly out of sheer spite and boredom, partly because I knew and befriended the village's number one girl Audrey, the beautiful Baker's daughter. I adjusted my shirt, now a fine garment of wool and soil, and stood up painfully, despite the angry protests of my sore body.

I wasn't quite sure where I was at the moment as I was too busy wondering if my father was getting hectic over my overnight disappearance again. The forest I found myself in seemed welcoming enough but very unfamiliar. However, I could smell the acrid fumes of the livestock whom I knew to be Farmer Brill's, the meanest, crotchety old man one could ever meet, who lived in the farthest side of town. So obviously I wasn't too far from where I was supposed to be. I thought of my father's red, moon-like face filling my vision, quizzing me on where I'd been and why I my clothes were so filthy.

So instead of heading towards the direction of that manure smelling path, my feet led me deeper into the thick underbrush of the woods. I wasn't up to facing my father just yet. A small trail, most likely belonging to some small woodland creature, opened up before me, tiny, child-like dents in the wet mush of fallen leaves. I retrieved a lengthy, thin tree limb, dragging the tip to give birth to an irregular, continuous line trailing behind me. Plants brushed against my pants, soaking them from the dewdrop jewels gathered during the night. I couldn't help but follow the path, ignoring the possibilities of danger or the pain still welling beneath my skin. I was still drowsy from first awakening but the pain helped me gain some alertness. Besides, I was vaguely aware of the small leather hide scabbard rhythmically drumming against my thigh, holding the small dagger I'd failed to use against the brothers during their onslaught, should an animal decide to chose me as it's next meal.

Suddenly, something occurred to me. I could hear something. Something fresh and burbling, rejuvenating. It was the rushing sound of a brook nearby, gurgling like an infant. All of a sudden, I was parched so I made my way towards the voice of the flowing brook.

Oh, I found the brook all right, but that wasn't the only thing I found. Much to my surprise, there was a woman bathing in the water. Well, standing knee deep in the water was more like it. Her bare back was towards me so that I could see a rivulet of russet cascading from the back of her delicate head. Lean, pale shoulders formed a perfect triangle beneath her flowing hair and the only clothing she wore were layers of thin, crimson silk draped from her slender neck and most likely dangling before the front half of her body. A wayward edge of the silk trailed in the water, making the flimsy garment sway. I could feel my cheeks getting hot as I knew I'd just intruded on someone.

My plan of action was simple: I was just going to back away into the bushes quietly and resume my aimless wandering. However, it seemed the tempting woman knew I'd been there, watching her, and her milk-white body turned before I could retreat. Eyes that were gorgeous, golden almonds fixed upon me and I was glued to the spot. Smacking my dirt-crusted lips, I was aware that I looked as if I probably lived in this forest.

"I, I'm sorry, miss. I was just heading here for some water and …" I stuttered, and stopped, noticing the slim figure with batting eyes slipping out of the water onto the muddy bank and advancing towards me. "P-Please excuse me. M-My name is…"

"Shhh…" the woman murmured and all was well. She placed a thin finger over my lips. "I know you." This puzzled me for never had I seen a woman with such grace and fluidity and yet mystery. For one, only women of great stature or class wore garments of fine silk and yet, here was this woman out in the forest, wading in a stream for a reason that was unapparent to me.

"You must be mistaken, my lady." I recoiled, feeling a shiver nestle in my spine.

She bats an eyelash, luscious lips curving gently into a smile. "Sir Ibel. We envision a great many things to come from you," she said, in a voice lathered slightly in an accent I wasn't familiar with. "We anticipate your awakening. I await your awakening…" Who was this woman? And how did she know my name? Before I could reply to her strange words, the woman lowered my head to hers. A thread of a whisper tickled my ear as she spoke softly and then her lips gently met my cheek, it's contact causing my skin to burst with small beads of sweat. The forest began to spin in an analogous blur of greens and earthen hues, my knees almost giving way beneath me. When my opened my eyes (after discovering I'd closed them) the odd lady was gone. But what was it she had breathed into my ear? Son of 'cause', 'case'…something like that anyway.

But the woman was gone. She probably must've walked off. Or I could've imagined her. I swear, my mind likes to play tricks. The stick I had earlier lay dead at my feet and I recollected it, heading off back towards my trail, no longer thirsty. As I retreated, I could still hear the babbling stream behind me and I was aware of the tingling sensation lingering on my cheek…