Out of Evenfall (BOOK 1)

Chapter 8

ADARA

Silver stars flickered in the sky above and the endless black sea below. Music raised sprinkles of light around her feet as the water remained still. It burst into colours, beautiful and interchangeable around her. Some of the stars fell into crimson, and others rose into otherworldly golds. Many times she tread the sunless sea in her dreams, but she had never known a place full of serenity. Neither too dark nor too bright. All alone in the dream, surrounded by the glass of the world around her. Neither of the moons, red and blue, spread their light in the starlit sky.

Only her, and the silver sprinkled glass.

Where am I? she asked out to it time and time again. Every step she took sent slight ripples beneath her heel. The stars danced off with silver trails until she came to a stop. Beneath her, the sky continued without end, without the edge of the seas Garren described in his tales. Her reflection stared up at her with wide, silver flecked brown eyes and tousled brunette locks. Each of the notes danced in her ears and gave birth to the stars. Adara sighed and continued to stare down at her weary mirror image.

The world spun with each moment; each minute; each bell of the song. Dizzying motions reeled her back to face the sky, where every star fell into twilight. Adara leaned forward when a large shape headed for the mirror below. It came closer. Closer. She stared into the beauty of evenfall as a large beak penetrated the surface of the sky and sea.

A flash of silver came down upon her neck, and she lurched to get away.

Wood railings greeted her from her bedroom. She sat up with a groan, and waves of pain crawled down her spine. What was that? Hand against her brow, she shook out the energy tickling her fingertips. Her other hand rested on a storybook she chose to read for the night, and she opened up to the marked page. "The Ice Fae of the North." Right, I was going to see if Jisa would enjoy this. Adara stretched and then forced herself off her cot.

"Garren?" she questioned as she stepped out into the one hall they had in the log cabin, peering at Garren's open door. Adara peeked around the corner, where the embers of yesterday dimmed to nothing in the stone fireplace. His favorite poker hung on the small rack, but the old man was nowhere to be found. Adara retreated back into her room to get dressed for the day, smoothing out the creases in the linens. Basket in hand, she donned her mother's crimson cloak before leaving the room. Outside the window, their small front porch was empty of Garren's presence. Where'd he run off to?

Boots on, she left the log cabin behind to round her way through the forest. I should stop by Rosaleta's place on the way. Adara tread the familiar route through the outer boundary of Prunal, where the distant windmills and wheat fields hushed with the wind. Her neck tingled with the memory of silver steel, and she clenched her fists to keep the flames of her soul at bay. As she reached the stone fences of Rosaleta's family orchard, she opened the metal gate to walk up to the large house among the beautiful trees. Polished cobble steps led her up to the porch, and she knocked on the door.

"Rosa?"

Adara stood at the door, waiting for her to answer. She rocked on her heels, listening to the distant birds. Footsteps on the other side snapped her back as Rosaleta opened the door, her wavy curls bouncing along her shoulders. "Adara? You're early. Are you not working at the tavern today?"

"I got the day off today," Adara said, then scoffed. "Just as well. I wasn't in the mood to deal with Gregor after what happened to Iwen." Arms folded, she smiled at Rosa. "If I'm disturbing you—"

"You're not disturbing me," Rosa said, waving her hands to the sides. "I..." She drew back, biting on her lip. "I'm sorry for what happened to Iwen. No matter what anyone says, I know Iwen wouldn't hurt anybody."