Feather Star

chapter 2

Brielle could get Thomas's words out her head; 'one lucky man will be even luckier today.' Maybe he meant one man is just around the corner...but who? It couldnt had been Thomas could it? Well he always smiled like the sun had come in the minute she entered the bakery, and he did always seem intrested in her family life..oh my gosh! Thomas loved her! How was that possible? They were just friends not..partners! If he did like her what did he mean? She revised the words in her head again. Maybe he was going to find some way of telling her today? 'Even luckier' might had meant..no it couldn't had, could it?

As Brielle puzzled over the bakery conversation, she arrived home to a cosy thatched cottage. Despite not having much greenery, her father's workshop made up for it. It was attatched next to the house with nothing but a black workbench of weights and hammers smelling strongly of polishes, leather and coal. She opened the small oak door to an unseen face.

His skin was as pale as ice with eyes like broken glass ready to murder any second. He had deathly black hair pulled back with his beard and moustache pulled in a perfect point making him look as slithery as a serphants tongue. He could had been an undertaker's son! She stood, frozen in the doorway. She caught her breath to talk once more, 'father!' She called. Barely a whisper. 'Brielle! I thought i'd heard you come in, this is Luther.' She shook hands with the stranger. Father introduced her back.

 'Pleased to meet you.' Her voice shook too. Soon after Luther slithered off awkwardly. 'Father why is he here?!' She snapped hushly.

'He had buisness to attend here.' He replied. She accepted although something clearly wasn't right..

They sat at the dinner table in a haunting silence. Luther sat in her mother's seat. After dinner Pearl showed Luther her doll collection, this left Brielle to find the depth of the mystery with her father. 'I have news for you. A unfourtante girl such as yourself is going to have the luck she deserves. Marriage.'

'Marriage! To whom?!'

'Luther. We figured because you're now older than you should be for this, but the time for waiting is up.' She went to protest. 'Luther is a very wealthy young man. You used to hide in his willow tree in youth remember? He said he loves you dearly.'

'More like kill me.'

'Brielle please! Give him a chance'

'Why? I don't know him, i dont love him more than i loathe him and i certainly don't plan to be fooled around with him!'

'Money, thats why.'

'Money?! Is that all everyone cares about?! What of love and the true line of faith you always encourage me to follow! Nobody asked me what i wanted! Nobody has never told me until now! No-one! Thomas was the only one. Father how could you?! And little Pearl to keep it from me?? We haven't kept a secret since her birth!'

With that Brielle ran off. With her mind all scattered and pulsing angry thoughts there was only one place to go but it wasn't going to be easy. As she went for the door, a now familiar face suprised her. Luther gave her a cold look neither one of love or longing but merely a look into her soul and scarring it. As she reached the handle he didn't move his frozen muscles. Dead. She couldn't take this anymore. She was gone. Little did she know her father sat in her mother's chair out the door in dismay. His daughter had just left him, he knew that much.

The Snow White looked down at the tiny grass strands from the willow tree. She gazed up at the at one of the strands of vines falling from the tree. She felt like one of them, being pushed and pulled in different directions without choice until a single leaf flutters to the ground. Free. Despite being a crispy red autumn day the sky was a clear blue, 'like freedom' she thought. If there was anywhere she needed to be its was everywhere but Easthill. Realizing she was once again in Luther's tree, she sighed and walked the trail home. She didn't even reach home until she turned back to look at the wall of Easthill and back at freedom. Without second thoughts she had made her desision.

It began with cautious pigeon steps, until a walk, to a faster walk. She was running, as she did tears of speed built up in her pure eyes. Did she just feel her feet lift off the ground? 'Conerntrate.' She told herself.  She was sprinting so fast someone walking by would had said they saw an angel fly home to heaven. Firstly came the crystal light angel wings lifting her faster and higher so elagantly, soon after came caramel talons as she began to shrink in size before her eyesite became sharper in her moonshine eyes. The owl's last curve finished at the dip of a beak. So beautiful.