The Wishing Tree

Chapter Two: Distractions

When the noise had settled in the old, broken home, Camlin peeked again from his door. He noticed it was very quiet and did not see his father anywhere. The boy opened his door slowly and took baby steps to the open area of the cottage, near the fire-pit.

His mother sat there laid out, still crying and covered in sweat and blood. Camlin walked over to the bucket with a rag. He went outside by the creek that flowed seamlessly down the hill and took some water back inside. He let the water get warm by the fire and soaked the rag for a few minutes, then cleaned his mothers legs, arms, and face.

"Mama I'm sorry papa hits you. I would never hit you. I love you" She looks into his bright green eyes. "Do you like it here Camlin?"  He shook his head hesitantly. "Do you want to runaway with mama?" The boy stopped mid wiping and stared into his mothers eyes of longing. He knew she was fearing for her life and his but he cared not for he wanted to see his mother smile again. "Please," he asked hugging her. She hugged him back, caressing his hair and back, kissing his head and singing to him. "We need a fresh start, a new beginning.." She continued to sing, "some new distractions."

The day drifted into the evening as the island turned from a burning red color to a subtle burgundy and plum. The leaves danced with the summer's wind and the fer slowly sank into it's cozy bed. Camlin had been outside collecting rocks all day and drawing faces in tree trunks with the knife his mother's father carved for him when he was just a wee elf. His mother called out to him, "Camlin come now your supper is waiting!" 

The boy ran into the house excited to see what his mother had made him. "Crag soup! It's my favorite mama!" She smiled at his excitement over something so small. "I know my dear babe." His emotions shifted quickly when he noticed his father still had not been home. "Do you know where is papa?" She shrug her shoulders and simply said with her sweet honeycombed voice, "He is probably still working child, eat your supper for we have a big journey ahead of us. I'd like to get going before he comes home." Camlin followed his mother's wishes and ate up. While her child ate his food, Urla had packed a satchel of supplies and readied her horse  that she'd been raising since she was Camlin's age.

An hour or so passed and the mother and son had been on the road riding their horse. "Where are we going mama?" Camlin asked in a sleepy voice. She just patted his head and said, "someplace where your father will never find us." The boy smiled at her words and closed his eyes and floated into a slumber.

The two galloped for another few hours before they reached an old fisherman's mill. Urla had been friends with a fisherman named Kuinn. Kuinn was not an elf he'd actually travelled to this island with his grandparents years ago, from a far away land. He was of human race. His skin was pale and his hair nearly white from all his adventurous years as a young boy.