Banished - Enchantress Series Prequel

Part 1

Herophile opened the door of her mother's house as quietly as she could, willing the hinges not to protest and give her away. She eased it shut behind her; the soft click of the latch dropping into place intensified by her fear of discovery. Her heart pounded. The rush of blood crashing through her ears drowned her senses. She stopped with her hand resting on the door, straining to hear beyond the adrenalin fuelled rush of blood for any sign that her mother had woken. Crickets chirped; a frog croaked in greeting to a neighbour; tiny claws scrabbled to find purchase on moss-cloaked rock by the stream; gentle, breathy snores floated down from the open window on the upper floor where her mother slept. All was going according to plan.

She needed to get away from the water as quickly as possible. Water nymphs, although her friends, were loyal to her father. As the King of the oceans and god of all things water bourne, he ruled with an iron fist. Treason would not be tolerated. She made for the woods, dark and eerily silent in the predawn light.

With the first rays of light to pierce the forest canopy, came the mists. The trail she followed gragually faded behind a curtain of muted light, tinged orange by the morning sun.

Doubt crept into her thoughts, What if I'm wrong about him? What if he's using me like father said? Her footsteps faltered and her pace slowed. What if mother is right and he only wants my dowry? Father has promised a kingdom for my husband, is that what Lucien wants? To be a Lord and Master?

Herophile sat on a fallen tree trunk, wrapping her arms around her middle, as tears began to well and spill from her eyes. Great sorrow engulfed her, an overwhelming feeling of loss that invoked sobs so powerful they stuttered her breathing.

Out of nowhere, a large butterfly, golden and black in colour, fluttered across her path. She reached out a hand so it would land on her palm, tickling her with it's tiny footsteps. She giggled, then smiled at it's simple beauty, her sorrow all but forgotton. Another butterfly, similar in colour, settled beside the first and rubbed it's wings against the other's. They both turned to face Herophile before fluttering away.

From the corner of her eye, she noticed a small hare poking its head around an oak tree; another appeared a moment later, followed by a third and a forth. The great oak splayed its branches outwards, stretching and groaning as it woke from slumber.

"Get off you little furballs!" the tree thundered at the hares.

The hares turned tail and flicked dust at the tree as they scarpered off into thicker foliage. Herophile snorted in her attempt to stifle her laughter.

"Blasted kids," it grumbled. "And who do we have here?" The oak swayed as it tried to turn and look in her direction, but being rooted to the spot meant it couldn't twist far enough. "Show yourself!" it demanded.

Herophile hesitantly moved into view, curtsying before the ancient oak. "Sir? I am sorry for disturbing you, I only stopped to rest for a moment."

"And where would a tiny little thing such as yourself be off to at such an early hour?"

"I... " She drew a deep breath, gathering strength from the action."I need to find the sorceress. I have a favour to ask of her."

"Mmm," the oak mumbled, pondering her words. "Be wary of what you ask. She has a mean streak and will not hesitate to twist your meaning to give you exactly what you request. And she does not do favours. Payment will be expected."

"I have coins to pay her."

The great oak laughed heartily. "Dear child, it is not coins with which she will seek payment, but something only you can give."

After a brief hesitation, Herophile nodded. "I will pay her price."

"Without knowing what it will be? On your head be it. Follow the trail to where the willows weep and seek passage to her realm. The gate keeper will summon whichever beast will take you there. Best hope it's not Sneem, vile creature that one."

"What is Sneem?" Herophile asked, but the great oak had already closed his eyes, dismissing her. "Thank you for your help."

The rustle of leaves was her only warning of the imminent lash across her legs. She leapt at the last second, narrowly avoiding being tumbled by the branch as the oak attempted to sweep her away. She didn't hear or see the second branch until she lay on her back on the leaf-littered ground, the air knocked from her lungs.

"Be gone. And if you see Rakyrd, send him this way."

"I would, but I don't know what Rakyrd looks like."

"Bear. There's nothing better than a bear to scratch my itching bark."