The Ballad of Sprites Vol. 1

Vol. 1

      "Fal-alir", as Rooke spoke those words, small motes of orange light danced around his hand. A small flame flickered to life in his palm and the motes of light dispersed, their light dimming as they floated away. Now I can see, he thought as he stared up into the sky. 

      The moon—Basura was blotted out by the clouds, snow fluttered down from the sky, and the surrounding trees swayed in the fiercely cold breeze, flickering shadows of the limbs scattered across the ground.

      Rooke flipped the hood of his tan wool cloak over his head, his blonde hair poking through holes that were once stitched up but were starting to give way. The flame in his palm reflected off his pale skin. Underneath his cloak, he wore a grey tunic, a red wool wrapping around his abdomen, a leather utility pouch attached to his belt, brown trousers, winniga wrappings around his calves, and leather boots. Each had seen their fair share of wear and tear. All are sewn up in similar fashions.

      He continued his way down the dirt path as the snow slowly started to fill the ditches on either side. Let's hope it doesn't stick.

      The top of a building slowly came into view as Rooke made his way over the top of a hillock. An old church flanked on all sides by trees of ash, pine, and birch. The siding had been peeled off in places due to wear and tear from the elements, and the bell had almost rusted away from the bell tower. He could see a flicker of light dancing about a window.

      Why are they still up? Should've been in bed hours ago. Cyrus's got some explaining to do.

      Quickly he came upon the church, the door cracked and broken, just barely hanging from its hinges. Rooke clenched his fist and asphyxiated the flame, killing it. He grabbed the knob and picked up the door, raised it off the ground an inch or two, then pushed it open.

      A human girl sat before him huddled over a lantern in the middle of the center aisle up near the stage. Broken and rotted pews strewn about the room. Windows had been shoddily boarded up where the glass had been shattered by vagrants. Up above there was a massive hole where the roof had caved in, a blanket was thrown over the hole and nailed down. Every once in a while the wind would catch it, making it flap against the roof. This drove Rooke insane on most windy days.

      The girl had dark brown skin and flowy long black hair, her ripped and torn dress looked similar to a potato sack. She was playing with a doll, humming the tune of an old nursery rhyme.

      The girl looked up from her doll and turned her attention to Rooke. As soon as their eyes met she gave him a big toothy grin, "Big brother!" she exclaimed as she shot up and dashed toward him. She slammed her head into Rooke's abdomen and wrapped her arms around him squeezing as tight as she could. "You're finally home!"

      Rook let out a groan as she squeezed tighter, "Ease up Marielle, you're gonna squeeze me to death!" he said with a chuckle.

      "Did you get the medicine for Stellen?" Marielle asked, easing up on her grip a little, but still squeezing tight.

      "I sure did!" Rooke leaned in close to Marielle. "It cost an arm and both my legs though, so don't let her know, okay?"

      Marielle unwrapped her arms, giggled, and nodded her head. She brought her pointer finger to her lips. "She will never know! I can am a great secret keeper!" she said.

      "Sneak attack!" and suddenly a boy slammed into the back of Rooke's leg, sending him stumbling forward.

      It was another child, an orc boy with curly dark hair, pale olive skin, pointed ears, and bottom canines that protruded over his top lip. He was dressed in dirty trousers and a tunic plastered in holes. "You're home early! That means you can play right?" asked the boy, as he climbed up Rooke's cloak and up onto his shoulders. He pulled the hood off and looked over Rooke's head.