Seeing Red

Chapter One

 

Chapter 1

            I knew before I opened my eyes that it was the middle of the night. My eyes were still heavy with the need to sleep, and I was not cold. Neither of these things would be possible in the chilly morning of Kaleam. Slowly I rolled over and opened my eyes. Looking down at myself I realized why I was so uncomfortable. I was in my bed; fully clothed (leggings and all) and my over the shoulder sword-harness was wrapped rather conspicuously around my ankle. Slowly I unwound the object from its random spot and set my feet on the cool stone floor, a heavenly distraction from the muggy air.  I sighed and relaxed a little. Lifting myself upright I began to walk to the bathroom, where I had left my short sword. I paused half way there, my hair was standing on end all over my body, like I had shuffled across a carpet in wool socks. The only problem was I wasn’t wearing socks; I was barefoot, and I didn’t have a scrap of carpet in the house. My eyebrows arched quizzically. What was going on?  Fully alert now, I continued on. I entered the bathroom, eyes seeking danger as I reached for my sword, which in my dull morning haze I had subconsciously grabbed from its spot beside my bed, and strapped it carefully to my waist. I didn’t think much of that, because as a warrior, things like that were customary, I slowly lifted my arms above my head and was shocked at the weight I felt there. The room was pitch black, and in the dark I saw sparks of light, sparks I could've sworn were flowing off my hands. As I pondered the possibility, I turned slightly and thus caught a glance of myself in the mirror. Startled I sprang backwards, my sword fell from my now limp fingers as I stared haplessly at my reflection.

            I was glowing.

            Not only was I glowing, I was a glowing a scary shade of red. I lit the lamp with my now shaking fingers. I took a deep breath and looked over the rest of my body. My fingernails, lips, eyes, and the skin surrounding my hair line were also red. My shoulder length, dirty blond hair was swaying, as if there was a gentle breeze. The only problem was there was no breeze. Not even an opened window. There was a buzzing sound in my head. I found myself terrified. Great.... Now I was some sort of freak. Not only an elf but now some sort of an illegal magic user?  The idea of it fascinated me and angered me at the same time. I smirked, remembering the many times I had dreamed of being special.  Deep down I had always held on to the childish dream that I was destined to be something more important. I wished for it many of a time, really. Now, seeing my fantasy came true and viewing the proof that I'm a supernatural-shape shifting elf brought a grin to my face! Yay! Everyone likes a happy ending, right? I tried to stop thinking along those lines. I needed to assess the situation carefully and slowly.

        Questions rattled through my brain so fast I could scarcely follow my own thoughts;         was I the only one to change like this? I had never heard of such a transformation, although shape shifters were quite common. How was this possible? How in Anaista's name did this happen?  Why? Why to me? Why now? Would I be able to hide this? Was this a blessing or a curse? These were all questions I needed answered. The main problem was; who could answer them for me?

        “Ugh” I groaned and lowered my head into my hands. The unending questions ended my glee and filled me with apprehension.  It was sinking in that I could be in very big trouble.

        “What is wrong?” a stranger’s voice asked.

        “Gah!” I shouted jumping nearly three feet into the air, simultaneously fumbling for the hilt of my fallen sword even as I reacted. “What are you doing in my home?” I demanded, falling instinctively into a defensive stance, and quickly turning to face the owner of the voice.

        “Relax Layana.” The stranger said “I can explain!”

        I was springing to attack when my brain registered shock at what I was seeing- an Elven male! I paused momentarily in my assault. “Then explain how you got in my house, and why, and who you are!” I snapped, raising the sword above my head. I wasn’t really planning on listening, and so I gathered myself to spring.

        “Stop! Stop, stop, stop! My name is Zevvran Trassaria, I asked the poor fellow in the tavern for your address, and I am here because you have changed, and I can help.”

            Now that I had paused in my assault he took the time to pronounce things properly.

        “I was born two human years before you. At two years old, my parents told me stories of you. The Red One, the great warrior and magician. Prophecies that both you-” he paused to smile roguishly at me “and I are in”

            I wasn’t doing anything now, I was just staring at him, taking him in. He had shoulder length white blond hair, pointed Elven ears like me, and strange, yet inviting gold eyes, He slightly taller than I, so my head was tilted up to him. He had a sword on his back and armour that was obviously built for a person who needed to move quickly, like a thief. He had a faded gold tattoo that swirled around his right eye three times, before sliding down his face and ending in a sharp blunt edge with three small diamond shapes outlining it. His voice was what I found, strangely enough, attractive. I didn’t know why, but it was endearing and yet taunting, a combination that appealed to me.

        “Okay, Zevvran. You and I are in a prophecy together. What does this prophecy foretell?” I ask, my red eyes meeting his, pretending to believe him.

        “Ahh my dear, an interesting story you ask me to tell you. It contains many things. We save the world, and we meet many interesting people. And of course,” he looked at me mischievously, “there is love involved.” He smiled at my blush, which of course made me blush even harder.

           “But, my lady” he continued, “we will get into that later.  For now, we must go,” He stepped forward, holding his gloved hand out to me. It was at this moment I did something I had never thought to do in my life; I reached out, and took the hand of a stranger without a moment’s concern.