Chapter 1

    Chapter 1

My eyes flashed open. Where am I? What am I doing here? I mentally searched for any evidence of anything. It was all blank, except for one thing. Elsa…that’s all I could remember. The name repeated on a loop while my brain tried to find something else to tie it to. It must be my own name. I thought to myself. I gave up on that for a moment and looked around. I was in a forest at night. The shadows dappled the floor with moonlight and I looked up. The full moon shone above, like an eye looking down on me, and an owl hooted in the darkness.

Shakily I stood up, and my cramped limbs screeched in agony while I groaned aloud. My voice was raspy, probably from disuse. I gathered my bearings again and looked behind me, tawny brown wings, covered in blood, dirt and grime, were bound against my back. What happened? How did I get here like this?  I shifted them, testing the bonds to see if I could fly, but pain shot through them, all the way to my back and up my neck into the back of my head. Black spots floated across my vision and I heard myself grunt. Guess I shouldn’t do that again, but how do I get out of here if I can’t fly?

I wiped a strand of hair out of my face and noticed that blood came away with my hand. It must have come from a gash above my eye. Something rustled in the bushes behind me and I forgot about the injury, instinctively reaching for a dagger that wasn’t there. Of course it isn’t there. Instinctively I tried to spread my wings, but a new wave of pain reminded me that I was grounded. Instead, I scrambled up a nearby tree. It was away from the noise and possibly towards some more information. As I reached the top I saw the peaks of four mountains surrounding me. It looked like I might be inside the caldera of a massive volcano. No way out because of the stupid cliffs.  Scanning carefully, I saw a bow, maybe fifty yards away, half-hidden under a layer of leaves. At first I thought that it was a tree limb that had fallen, but something about it was familiar. As I tried to grasp what it was, the memory slipped away from me. I waited until I was sure that the danger had passed, and I slowly and silently climbed back down the tree. Uncertain of my terrain in general, I slinked closer to investigate so I wouldn’t attract the attention of whatever it was that had sent me up the tree before. I inspected the bow carefully. It was a longbow, as tall as I was and handcrafted. The grip felt comfortable in my hand, smooth from years of use, and probably polished with oil until it shone by its owner. Gleaming in the moonlight, the weapon seemed deadly and inviting simultaneously. As I turned it over in my hand, a glint caught my eye. There, above the grip, two words were engraved: Elsa Nightingale. The words were carefully engraved and stained black. This was a beauty among the deadliness of the weapon.

I ran my fingertips lightly over the words, wondering if the bow was really meant for me. The bow was unstrung, and the string was loose and supple, a sign that meant it hadn’t been out in the open for long, yet it had been there long enough to get covered by leaves. After examining the bow, I scanned the surrounding undergrowth. There! A glint of metal reflected the moonlight, peeking out from between leaves. It was a metal buckle of a knapsack, about as long as my torso, also partially covered by leaves.

Glancing at the bow in my hand, I stole toward the bag. Trying to figure out why it was there, I brushed my hand over it. The bag was made of soft leather with a couple of scratches, as if it had fallen. Why is this stuff here and what happened to me?  I wondered as I undid the leather thong holding it shut. My hands felt as if they knew what they were doing, it was very weird. I peered inside to find a dagger and belt. Along with the knife, I found a soft leather pouch, as long as the bag it was in. I untied the leather strap on the top and found arrows inside. The feathers were the same size and color as my own, with the white being from the underside of my wings and the two brown were from the back. Well-crafted and stick-straight, they looked just as deadly as the bow with their iron heads.

Looking at each item, as if trying to get and explanation, I studied them carefully. A small emblem of a bird head was engraved on each item. I unsheathed the knife to see if the same mark was there and gasped. There, on the pommel of the dagger, was the same emblem, studded with jewels. The bird was black obsidian, and its outline was gold, making it sparkle in the moonlight. On the other side, two letters were studded there in ivory. EN.  Why are these items here?  I wondered. A trickle of a stream filtered through the stillness of the night and I headed in its direction. When I arrived, I carefully untied the bindings that kept me grounded. With the release of the straps came a new, nearly unbearable wave of pain. Pull yourself together! I thought through the pain and gritted my teeth. Sitting on the ground, I pulled the wing that was causing the immense pain around to the front of me where I could see it. Staring at the wound almost made me pass out. On the inside of the feathered wing, a deep, foot-long gash ran along the main section.  The bindings must have been bandages. I thought. Trying to move the wing as little as possible, I gently washed the wound in the stream and re-wrapped the wing in the straps. I guess that I won’t be flying anywhere soon.

The sky started to lighted, revealing a small village upstream through a clearing. Maybe someone there can help me, I thought, and so I set out, stumbling in the general direction of the village.