portal prophecies 01 - keepers destiny (2 page)

“So don’t tell them,”
echoed through her head.
“We have told you before not to tell anyone.”

Sometimes she forgot as much as she could hear them, they could hear her thoughts as well. She supposed it was much better that she didn’t have to verbally communicate out loud with them and handle the glares and stares that talking to herself would bring. Deep down however, she was thankful for the voices. She had learnt over the years their advice was always sound and in her best interest. They basically had raised her since her parents had been gone and besides it was nice to not always be alone. Having someone to listen to her most serious problems made the hard times in life a little easier.

She placed empty baskets and bushels around the trees and plants and began to harvest produce for the market. After filling several bushels with tomatoes, squash and peas, enough to more than overload her wheelbarrow, she pushed them round front to the market stands. By the time she returned all the rest of the baskets were full of peaches, cherries, apples, plums, grapes, berries of all kinds, carrots, potatoes, corn, beans, lettuce and more. She never questioned where the help came from but thanked whoever was responsible out loud and went about finishing her work.

The sun was just rising over the great hill and everything was still quiet. The town was made up of buildings that all looked the same on the outside, built out of ageing wood which was a greyish colour, with newer patches, made out of whatever wood was available where rot couldn’t be ignored. Appearance wasn't a concern as long as any holes were covered as best as could be. There were no fancy designs or gardens. These houses had been built strictly for need, the bigger the family, the bigger the house. Some people had added a couple steps or a porch out front perhaps to try to make for a more inviting sense of home or perhaps because some had a front room where they worked and showed people their products.

There was only one main dirt and rock road. It ran from the castle gates to the north, down through the town and ended at the orphanage. The forest bordered around the buildings to the south, where it connected to the base of the great hill to the east. To the west the forest bordered the town all the way to the stone walls of the castle. No one had ever ventured to find where or if the forest ended.

Across from Willow’s was Mrs. Waddington’s place. She was the finest and only book writer, not to mention a talented story teller. Unfortunately, there was less and less need for books since the Council declared learning to read, actually learning at all, wasn’t necessary. Still the under-aged would sneak out after dark whenever possible to listen to one of her wondrous tales of great beasts, love, deceit, war and peace. Her words could fly through the room and create visions of the very stories she was telling, as if it was happening before your eyes, and invoke the emotions of the characters she spoke of. There wasn’t a lot of entertainment for children and young adults in the town, and story time was the favourite on everyone’s list.

Beside Mrs. Waddington's place was the seamstress Martha who made everything from blankets to dresses and her husband Olie made shoes. Then was the Posh place for dishes and candles. At the end of the street was the Shinning house which made anything you needed out of gem stones, mainly jewelry for the Council. Across from them was the Miller bakery, which made the most wonderful fresh bread that melted in your mouth and danced on the taste buds.

There were other houses not on the main market street, with various different professions such as woodworking, metal working, tool making and sharpening. It was mainly people who made the larger things you would order to be made for a specific need and various forms of crafters and animal farmers.

Willow finished setting up her market stands as the last of the night silently whisked away to make room for the light of day.

An hour later and the town was starting to show signs of life, although most of the store fronts wouldn’t open for hours yet. People were moving about starting their chores and gathering water from old barrels for their daily needs. Jessie, Dezi and Pete, the gem worker’s boys, sat on their front porch watching every last detail that was happening while their mother and father began to prepare for the day. Willow didn’t envy them, knowing their only customers were Council members and their families, who were always hard to please. Each one always wanted something bigger, brighter and more outstanding than the other. Across from the produce stand Mrs. Waddington was sweeping her porch. After her husband, son and daughter-in-law were all declared dead by the Council, she had been left raising her grandson, Nathan, alone. All of a sudden she motioned a fast wave and quickly moved inside.

A silence fell over the market place which could only mean one thing, the Council was in town to pick up their fresh produce for the day. Council members enjoyed a fresh fruit breakfast every morning and were always served first before anyone else in town. Willow looked down the lane and held her breath. Today wasn’t starting off well at all. The Council had sent their children into town this morning to fetch the castle needs. Rumours had been flying around town that Council family members close to their sixteenth cycle were being given more duties to prepare them for the future. Unfortunately, it looked like they weren’t just rumours anymore.

Malarchy and Nebulah’s daughter, Jade, was leading the teen group as usual. She was slim, with a white complexion, perfectly rosy cheeks and plump red lips. Her deep green eyes flickered specks of emerald in the light in such a way that they matched her name. She was the only girl whose hair hadn’t changed in three cycles. It's light blonde colour shimmered like an illusion. She always seemed to effortlessly control the style, which changed more often than her clothes. Today it was curly, not a natural curl, but more a manufactured one. Sometimes it was hard to tell if it was just the different hairstyles or if her facial features were different daily as well. It had been known for some time that appearance especially her hair, was one of her talents and she was quite proud to show off the glamours she could create. To complete her look today a frilly white dress hugged the curves of her body which were far more developed than any other girls her age. Following closely behind were Sabrina and Camile, who both tried to copy the same look as their leader, right down to the curls.

Willow winced as she imagined the two girls having to roll pine cones in their wet hair and then even worse remove them when their hair was dry. For the moment she was glad she had natural curls.

Behind them walked two boys, Justin and Neil, who weren’t paying much attention to anything going on around them except for the rock they were kicking back and forth between them. Willow figured they were as good looking as boys get. Both were tall with sandy coloured hair and hazel eyes, medium build and dressed well. She didn’t understand the other girls' fuss over boys. They were okay, some were fun to hang out with and play games, but she hadn’t ever felt gushy mushy gooey like the other girls her age did at the sight of any one or another.

“Too bad she has to open her mouth,” Clairity said referring to Jade.

Willow had been so distracted by the morning's events, she hadn’t noticed her best friend come over to sit beside her. “What would get you up so early?”

Clairity laughed and replied, “I couldn’t leave you to deal with that lot alone now could I?”

Clairity was short, with an average build. She wasn't a stunning beauty, but she had style. Her hair was cut in an uneven bob which hugged her face in all the right places and highlighted her high cheek bones. Today her hair was black. Of all the colours, black definitely suited her the best, probably because it also matched her eyes which were such a dark brown you could easily mistake them for black. Her skin was a pale white, perfect like the porcelain dishes and figures her mother made. It made Willow laugh when Clairity’s mother would pinch her cheeks as hard as she could to try to add a little colour to her daughter’s face.

“Can we get some service here? Or do you think wasting our time is in your best interest?” snarled the girl in front of her.

Willow looked up directly into a pair of icy green eyes staring back at her. They were as cold as they were beautiful. She shivered as if a chilled wind had blown on her bare skin, forming goosebumps on her arms. In those few moments of hesitation, she briefly lost herself to intimidation. Luckily, Clairity was there and had already started putting baskets together for the the impatiently waiting group. It was odd, but lately it seemed her friend knew exactly where and when she was needed or should be.

“Staring into space as we wait, pathetic. Wait till father finds out about this!” Jade said in a voice loud enough to be heard by most of the town. “And what is she wearing?” The three girls burst into a high pitched laughter together before heading down the road, not back the way they had come but further down the lane.

Willow knew the three girls were strolling toward the boys still sitting on their step. Sure enough, they offered a flirting wave and a giggle. That was all it took to gain the boys' attention and soon they were all talking and laughing together.

The two boys from the Council group were oblivious to what the girls were doing. They were far too preoccupied with the delightful aroma of fresh baked bread coming from the stone oven out back of the bakery.

Clairity gave her a nudge. “Anyone home?” she asked.

Willow shook her head, breaking free from the trance she had been completely engulfed in. She looked up at her friend who motioned to basically the rest of town waiting in line for their baskets for the day. The two girls knew everyone in town and after the line had ceased they made up baskets for anyone who hadn’t been by yet and together they delivered them. The last one Clairity took home with her.

All that was left to do now was to pack all the remaining fruits and vegetables into boxes for the orphanage. The children living there had it the hardest. They had to share everything and they had very little to start with. Compared to the way these kids had to live, Willow was in a dream land. She felt sorry for them. Truly the only hope they had was to develop some ability the Council might find entertaining or extremely useful. Willow made sure every day there was something especially yummy in the boxes, a sort of treat they could look forward to. After all, if circumstances had been a little bit different she might have been living there as well. She didn’t know why she wasn’t, but figured the orphanage was already full by the time her parents had died.

She felt a tap on her shoulder. “Need some help with those?” Jessie asked. Usually one of the three boys would offer to help carry some of the boxes. Willow was always eager to accept since it meant making one trip instead of two, not to mention company along the way. As much as she wanted to help the orphanage she hated going there as well. It was dark, musty, and the last few times it left her with an uneasy feeling, like someone was listening and recording her every move while she was there.

Jessie was the tallest of the triplet brothers. Usually children born together look identical. Not in the case of these brothers. They were each different in appearance and personality. It was almost as if they were three parts to one whole person, each getting different qualities. The only thing they had in common at all was the light brown shade of their hair and matching eye colour. Jessie was muscular and very strong looking, but quiet. Dezi was just shorter than his brother and wasn't overly muscular, but had defined shape to his arms and chest which suited him. He was loud, fun and exciting, always the life of the party. The final brother Pete was the shortest of the three, although still taller than most boys their age and was quick to offer his opinion when he had one. He was neither boring nor remarkable, but could captivate an audience when he chose to. Most of the time, however, he was lost somewhere in the shadows of his brothers.

The orphanage was located on the far side of town and was the largest building other than the castle. The outside was weathered and old, definitely in need of major repairs, much more than the rest of the town. Inside were four rooms, the first was a small sitting room for visitors. Willow couldn't imagine that they had many visitors, but supposed it made Penelope and Micca feel better in case, on the odd chance, someone did drop in. Peeking in the door, it appeared as she had thought. The room didn't look as if it had been used in a very long time. There was a layer of dust on the furniture. In the centre of the room was a table with a tiny porcelain vase filled with what appeared to be dead wild flowers from the forest. The seats were benches with high backs and had some faded cushions that looked like they had been in the same spot since the beginning of time. Directly across the hall was the second room which was Penelope and Micca's bedroom.

There was an unsettling silence in the front areas for a house that so many children called home. The hallway led to a tall wooden door, which opened into a food preparation room. The makeshift kitchen wasn't large and had cupboards that lined all of the walls. In the centre of the room was one wooden table. It was the sort you would stand at, not sit. Willow and Jessie lifted the boxes onto the table. Usually someone would have greeted them before now. Neither had been past that point before or seen the large room that the children spent the majority of their lives in. Out of concern and a little curiosity, the two opened the door to the main room. The door itself was a heavier wood than the rest of the building.

“Explains why the front is so quiet,” Jessie said almost stealing Willow's exact thoughts. She nodded in agreement.

The main room was by far the largest with over double the space of the rest of the house. There were long tables and benches set up for eating at. Later, after dinner the children would move the tables and benches to one side of the room and find a spot on the floor for their pillows and blankets to sleep for the night. There were seventeen children that lived in the orphanage all between the ages of ten and fifteen, most had been under four cycles when their parents had been declared dead. They knew no other life than the one they were living.