The Wishing Tree

Chapter One: Camlin

One morning on this subtle, quiet island of red leaves that looked like fire, in the trees that stood tall and proud, on the island of Valkenruud Palace, there lived a small elven boy of high yellow skin, green bright eyes, and hair as dark as the night skies that broke away as the fer (their version of a sun) grew more alive.

The boy's name was Camlin Kirv Svyn.
He preferred just to be called Cam. On this glorious morning he awoke with a loud bang, for his foster parents were arguing again. The boy peeked through the crack of his opened door and gasped as he watched his father, Marvyn, raise his hand to slap his wife, Urla. "Please Marvyn don't you'll wake the child! I just asked you to stop because of how loud you were being! Don't hit me please!" But the man proceeded to smack her and punch her. Camlin's father was a drunk as you can see. He was a farmer and spent all the coin the family made on pricey ale and such things. Poor Camlin went to his study sessions in rags and torn up books.

"Daddy why are you hurting my mommy?" The boys small voice was barely noticeable but enough to enrage Marvyn even more so than he already was at the moment. "What in gods name did you say boy?! Speak. The gods have you a voice, Speak it like a man!" His voice seemed to trample the tiny nine year old's voice. "I-I said why are you hurting my mommy?" He said, faced down twirling his thumbs and kicking at the ground. "Darling go back to your room," Urla his mother said so sweetly with blood rolling down her cheeks. She loves Camlin more than Marvyn did.

She cared for the child as if he was her own. "M-Mommy and daddy are just playing a game that's all, okay? I'll come prepare you for your studies in a bit okay?" Cam just nodded with a tear falling off his chin onto the old wooded flooring. He walked in a somber tone and slowly closed his door. Marvyn let Urla's arm fall to her body and just stared at her. He was so intoxicated he had no energy left to beat her.

Then when she began to cry he dropped the bottle of ale and sat next to her, "Urla you know I love you.." She cries harder at his lying mouth spitting out those worthless words. She knew he had been out all night with a different wench every night. He wasn't any good for her nor the child yet she still for some odd reason clung to him. He began to kiss her neck and feel her. "Don't cry my Urla. I love you. I'm sorry." She didn't resist because she knew if she did she would have a man's fist coming towards her face. So instead she just kept crying and letting him use her for pleasure.