The Silver In Her Eye

CHAPTER 1

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2 years before

She goes by the name of Avreale. Known around the village of Nixiton as the outcast with an odd right eye. That eye is completely silver, reflective like a mirror, with no pupil. Of course no one understood the reason behind it; not Avreale or her father.

Everyone else thought that she had no right eye, and that the socket was just an empty black hole. That is what everyone wanted to believe. Even though they knew it wasn't the truth.

Avreale was awoken earlier in the night, by a nightmare. The usual one that haunted her unconscious state each night, for as long as she could remember. It involved a large bonfire, surrounded by people, nothing scary. But attached to a stake, hanging over the fire, was Avreale.

She would always wake up in a cold sweat. Her skin burning, like the flickers of fire had lashed out at her from her dream.

That is why she found herself standing peacefully a few yards away from her three bedroom cottage, which she shared with her father.

Her curly, tangled mess, of long red hair, whipped around behind her in the harsh chilly wind of early Autumn. She wrapped her thin blanket tightly around herself, as if it were a shield. The white night gown that came up to her knees, whipped back and forth against her pale, but slender legs. Her sharp, bright green eye and her reflective silver eye, darting back and forth across the sky.

The pounding in her head was just enough to make her cry out against the horrendous pain. It felt like someone was striking a hammer against her skull, over and over again.

Avreale closed her eyes, and imagined herself as another person, in another world. A world where she had no silver eye. She was just another normal person. That would be a good thing. Right?

There would be no more bullying. No more teasing. No more pain. No more being the outcast.

A pounding of hooves caused Avreale to snap her eyes wide open. She sharply turned her head to her right, to see a group of faint lights coming closer and closer, growing brighter and brighter. She grew frightened as they drew nearer. Not knowing what else to do, she turned and quickly made her way to the dark brown, oak, cottage door.

"Fa-father?" Avreale called from the doorframe of his bedroom. Her voice stuttering from fear. A lump, the shape of a large human, grunted from deep underneath the heavy woolen covers.

A hand reached out first, followed by a kind-hearted, wrinkled face of the man she called her father.

"What is it Avreale?" his voice came out raspy, but soft. She made her way over to his bedside and sat down, clasping one of his large hands, into her smaller one.

"There are soldiers coming," she said her voice slightly trembling. "With horses. I do not know how many there were. But I just saw them, outside, not far from here. Heading in our direction."

His eyes went wide, frantically darting around the room, as if in search of something. "I knew this day would come," he kept on muttering under his breath, "I knew it. I knew it. I knew it!"

"Father?" she asked quietly. "What's going on?"

He turned to look at Avreale. His hand that was not clasped in hers went up to cradle her face. "Do not worry, little one. I will keep you safe, and out of harms way," he reached up to gently touch the cloth black eye patch that covered her silver eye, "I promise."

"I am not little. I am fifteen!" she protested, a small grin appearing on her face.

"So you are," he chuckled heartily.