Delirian

Chapter One

  They tried over and over to turn me into something I was not, something fragile and delicate, but I refused to give in. Even if I had to wear those cursed corsets that suffocated me, and they kept anything sharp away from me so that I could not cut my hair which had become very long throughout the years. I refused to act sweet and kind and sew and wash and that sort of maid work. I gave the lord all kinds of trouble and was often under constant super vision.

  Sometimes, something 'lady like' would intrigue me, and I would be a perfect student. One of these things was horseback riding. I was a fast learner and even put up with the side saddle, which I found completely ridiculous. When I was sure I knew how to control the horse, I stopped playing and took off towards the trees. They caught up with me within minutes, but I didn't care, I wasn't trying to run away, where would I go? There was nothing left for me out there. They realised by my smile that I hadn't tried to get far and let me continue horseback riding, under supervision, of course.

  The thing I hated more than corsets and those ridiculous dresses were heels. I couldn't stand them. I would always kick them off and go around bare foot, something I had acquired since living on land.

  I had also taught myself to draw. With charcoal from my small fireplace I would draw, and I found I had a special knack for it. Drawing wasn't really what the lord approved of for his ladies, so I did it in secret, the image I drew most often was him, side profile, full on, or full body, driving sword and all. I labeled him as The Shadow's Echo. I found I did a pretty good job at drawing him, the sorrow in his gaze, his careless stance. But after a while I tried drawing him older, for he would have aged, unless he really was just the echo of an old shadow.

  I felt so much hate for this boy who spared me that it made me sick at times. Sometimes I think that hate was the only thing that kept me going.

  One time, when I was twelve, I went into the town with some of the other servants. A boy my age bumped into me and knocked the basket I was carrying out of my hands, spilling apples everywhere.

  "Sorry," he laughed, scrambling to pick up the crimson fruit.

  I was kinda in a sour mood that morning and I couldn't see past my temper. I didn't care that he was actually sorry, or that he was trying to help me.

  I was so furious that I had leapt on him and had pinned him to the ground, pounding my fists into his gut. He had tried to push me off, but I had been much stronger than him. The maids weren't much help to him, and it had taken his father and another man to tear me away. When they had finally managed, the boy had a bloody nose and would have a black eye, along with quite a few bruised ribs.

  A week later when I realised how stupid I had been, I snuck into town to find him. I had had to crawl under gates and through dirt to get there, and I was a mess. When he had seen me, he tried to run, but I had grabbed his shoulder and dragged him over to a bush.

  "Hey, I just wanted to say that I'm sorry," I had said before, he could make a break for it.

  That had stopped him. His eye had still been blackened and the fear on his face had been evident, but I could see he believed me. He had short sandy hair and when I really looked at him, he reminded me of the boy. Perhaps that was why I had gone mad that day, but I told myself that he wasn't that boy, he couldn't be. He had the most stunning blue eyes I had ever seen, this village boy, the colour of the sea when you are below the surface and you are about to emerge to take a long, deep breath of fresh air...

  A tear had escaped my eye as we sat there "Are you alright?" He had asked, but I had wiped it away quickly.

  "I'm fine," I had said strongly. He didn't ask again.