The Stone of Life

Chapter 1

The sharp bursts of coughing drove me out of my slumber, like it had for the past few weeks. However normal the sound seemed, it shot a cold feeling into my heart, being that it came from my dying sister.

Slipping my feet onto the cold, wooden floor, I tiptoed into my sisters room. Mother and father slept by her every night, not wanting to leave their little girl. Coming to her side I sat down onto the soft, deer fur that covered all the beds in the house.

I then picked up a small wooden bowl from her side table that held fresh herbs. "Here," I said, "sniff this."

Doing as I said, she leaned forward and took in the strong aroma of thyme. Falling back, her coughs slowly surpressed and her breathing returned to normal.

"Goodnight Lillian," I whispered as I gently stroked my hand across her silky, white hair.

The following morning after little sleep, I headed into the village to buy more herbs. As a cold wind blew through the air, the dark, brown cloak I had on did it's best to defend me against the chill. Continuing my way down the stone pathway I hoped this time the merchants would have enough produce to last the winter. Last years winter had been brutal with many succumbing to sickness and disease.

Passing through the beautifully carved buildings and lush greenery, I was forever glad to live in Ardel. Although with such beauty there must be destruction, thousands of years ago there was a war between the light and dark elves. The light armies tore through towns and villages to rid the world of the darkness, leading to the remaining few having no choice but to retreat into hiding. Now the light elves where the overseers of the land, the rulers of all realms.

Coming out of my thoughts I notice I had been walking in a daze, the smell of herbs and flowers overtook my senses; bring a smile to my face, I was close to the village. After a couple more minutes, I walked past the stone pillars signifying the village entrance. Lines of stalls were set up, selling everything from wine to carpets.

I weaved my way through the people, I knew this place like the back of my hand. Cutting through a group of giggling girls I shook my head at the thought that, that was me only a few months ago, oh how times had changed.

To my left a small woman with beautiful silver hair caught me attention, "Hello Francis," I said with a smile.

"Oh Sylvia, I wasn't expecting you so soon," Francis stated, wrapping a bag of crystals for an elderally man. Watching as the man walked away I felt pitty knowing those crystals were used to heal sickness.

"It's my sister," I said with a pause, "she's getting worse."

The woman in her late sixties dropped a bag she was holding and swept me up into a hug, "She shall return to good heath in no time," she said with a small smile, however I knew that look, behind her eyes it held a look of sorrow and sadness.

Nodding, we separated and she went back to stand behind the stall. Francis was like a second mother, she had looked after me and my sister when we were younger. We would spend countless hours in her garden learning about herbs and plants, occationally Francis would tell us stories of peaceful times before the war.

Finishing up with a small woven bag she handed it over to me, whilst placing her hand over mine. "Be careful my dear," Francis said.

Drawing my brow together I went to ask her what she meant but was stopped when a man started talking to Francis. I wasn't too worried what she had said, the village knew her to be the crazy old witch, although she was still adored by most for her knowledge and wisdom.

"Have you heard the prince is seeking out a lady!" Gasped a young girl to her friends as she passed by.

I chuckled, the prince was always looking for a lady, I had seen him once, years ago at a ceremony. He didn't seemed like a man who would settle down, so I assumed that his mother, the queen, would have had something to do with this.

The walk home was filled with the small chatter of people wondering who the prince would choose and the excitement of young girls giggling to one another. Coming to the top of the stone pathway I continued onto a small dirt one. My family lived just outside the village in a small cottage that many would look down upon, but to me it was home.

Walking up the old, wooden stairs I creaked open the front door. The warmth of the fire stung my frozen nose, sliding off my cloak I hung it over the hat stand near the front door.

"You're home," said my mother in a rush as she came out of the only hallway in our house. Seeing her like this sent nerves down to my stomach. "Your sister... she... she." My mum paused as small tears rolled down her face.

"What mother, what is it?" I asked rushing over to her and placed my hands on her shoulders. "MUM!" I shouted in her face but was given nothing but a faraway glance.

Dropping my arms I quickly passed her and into my sisters room, where my father sat on the bed. "Dad, what's wrong?" I asked coming to a stand still beside him.

There was a silence before he spoke, "I'm afraid your sister has gone into a slumber."

"What do you mean?" I asked, coming to kneel before my sister. Her eyes were closed and her chest rose and fell with her small breathes, if I were not to know she was sick I would just assume she was in a peaceful sleep.

Quickly I stood up and started to leave the room. "Where are you doing?" Asked my father as he watched me with a cautious eye.

"To find the stone of life," I stated picking up my sisters necklace, the one I had given to her on her sixteenth birthday. It was a silver necklace that held a small moon pendant, it had cost my months wage but she was worth it.

"You know that's just a myth," harshly said my father standing up from the bed. "Don't waist your time looking for something that isn't real, spend it with your dying sister." He almost yelled in tears.

"I can't, I can't just sit here and do nothing, I can't just watch her die," I whispered, too afraid that if I spoke or laid eyes on my sister I'd break and stay.

Not having anything else to say I left Lillian's room and into mine. Our rooms were almost identical and could only be told apart from the way we had styled them. Mine was simple with a single bed, a vanity, a closet and a cupboard spilling with books. Everything was wooden giving the room a very earthy feel.

Opening up my satchel I placed the necessary things I would need for my journey into it. I looked over to my collection of books where one caught my eye. Reaching out I pulled my journal out of the cupboard and into my bag.

Having everything I needed I left my room giving it one last glance before I headed into the small living space where my mother and father were quickly arguing. "You can't stop her, you know what she is like." I heard my mother say.

My father stopped what he was about to say when I walked into the room.

"Please rethink what you are doing. You are chasing a fantasy. The stone isn't real, it's just a story told to young children." Desperately said my father.

The stone, or most commonly know as the stone of life was a story we were told as younglings, where during the war the light created a stone that could heal anything that touched it. They used this stone to heal their warriors and maintain their defences against the dark. Many believe it was destroyed after the war but some, like me believed it had been hidden, somewhere safe; and that only a true soul could finds its location.

Meanwhile my mother stood idly by his side saying nothing in my defence. Looking back between my mother and father I could see what the years had done to them, their brightness had faded away. All I hoped was that they wouldn't let themselves wither away any further. "I know you don't believe it to be true but I do, and I would rather know that I did something to save her life, then sit here and wait," I said with all my breath.

Giving them once last hug I left for the door, "Wait," My mother cried. Quickly she rushed over to the kitchen and fetched a few thing. Coming back over to me she handed over food wrapped in a cloth; smiling I thanked her.

Looking into her eyes I knew she believed in me, even if she didn't say it. She wanted me to go, to find the stone and bring it back to save her youngest daughter. Turning around I left the warmth of the cottage and back into the brisk cold.