The Sidhe: Yellowstone Court

Chapter 1: Awakening

I woke to the sound of chirping birds. The scenery before me was beautiful; the vegetation was thriving and green. The sky was bright blue, not a cloud in sight, and the morning sunlight made everything look slightly magical. My body ached as I tried to sit up. Around my fourth try, I had managed to prop myself up in an almost upright position. I scanned my surroundings, slowly turning my head left and right. My eyes caught sight of something that gleamed in the sunlight. I blinked, getting rid of the blurriness that lingered inside my eyes.

When I could make out the shape of the object, I shot to my feet without thinking. I made it a few steps before collapsing on the tar. Granules of gravel and cement bit into my cheek and I could taste blood in my mouth. I stood slowly, testing my legs and making sure I didn’t fall over again. Wiping the blood from my mouth, I walked over to the wreckage. I recognised this car, but the vehicle was distorted and twisted out of its original shape. Various car parts were strewn all over the road and bits of glass littered the ground. I moved to pick up a side mirror, but when my skin made contact, a burning pain shot through my fingers and up my arm. I yelled in pain and threw the mirror to the ground, hearing it crack. I stared at it while cradling my hand, holding it close to my chest.  

The mirror shimmered slightly, like a lagging internet game. I blinked, thinking my eyes were playing tricks on me. When I looked again, it was still shimmering. My eyes skimmed over the whole car, widening as it too started shimmering, becoming more and more translucent as time passed. What was happening? I was suddenly gripped with fear. I couldn’t remember how I had gotten here.  With my heart pounding in my chest, I went through a series of questions in my mind. Who am I? How did I get here? Who were my parents? Where did I come from? I am Jamie. I am sixteen years old. A tiny voice in my head said to me. I waited in silence for it to answer my other questions, but I was left in silence. I let out a shaky laugh – why was I listening to voices inside my head? This is crazy!

I heard footsteps behind me. Goosebumps rose on my neck as I turned slowly, to face whoever was behind me. It was a boy, clad in black; jeans, tee shirt, ratty boots. He was skinny, but his arms were lightly toned. He looked older than me, maybe seventeen or eighteen years old. His head was angled towards the floor, his jet black hair obscuring his eyes from view. His pale arms rested loosely at his sides, his hands shoved in the front pockets of his jeans. I crossed my arms, narrowing my eyes. He didn’t look dangerous, but I was cautious. Seeming to sense my distrust, he stopped short of two or three meters from me. He lifted his head and took the sight of me in. I felt slightly self-conscious in my Bring Me The Horizon muscle tee, and dark jeans. I tucked a stray hair behind my ear – a lifelong nervous habit.

“You okay, there?” he called. His voice sounded friendly enough. I kept my arms folded across my chest, but I nodded. He looked past me and at the wreckage. His facial features hardened slightly, before returning to their calm state. “Know what happened?” he asked me. An image of bats flying everywhere crossed my mind. I shook my head, and turned to look at the car. Whatever did this was long gone. But what exactly did do this? The boy took a few slow steps forward, and my guard was instantly up again. I stepped back one pace, and saw that he was smirking at me. I felt defensive. “Relax, I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, walking forward. “I’m – I’m not scared of you,” I said defending my pride, but also proving to myself that I was scared. He closed the distance between us fairly quickly, but left enough space ahead of him that if he reached out his arm, it wouldn’t be able to touch me. I eyed him suspiciously. He brought his hand out of his pocket, and a box of cigarettes along with it. He took one out and produced a lighter from his other pocket. He was in the process of lighting it when he caught me staring. For the first time, I looked straight into his eyes. They were a beautiful shade of green – but it was the strangest colour I’ve seen. It looked almost inhuman. He held eye contact with me, proceeding to insert the cigarette between his lips, light it and take a drag. I found that I couldn’t look away from those piercing eyes. He exhaled, letting the smoke drift about him. I found the smell oddly comforting. “I’m Ash, by the way,” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips.  Reflexively I replied “J-Jamie,” I didn’t want to tell him my name. He held the cigarette between his index and middle finger, flicking it every once in a while, letting the ash fall the ground.  He held it out to me, but I shook my head. “I don’t smoke,” He smiled and took another drag. “Neither do I,” I frowned, but left the conversation.