Outcast

1. Illness

"Get a warm cloth!"

A desperate mother screamed clutching a weak baby boy in her tight embrace. She rocked the dying child back and forth as the father rushed to do as he was told. 

The mother known by the village as Victoria had panic in her wide baby blue eyes. Her white blonde hair was strewn messily around her shocked pale face. She was tall with angled features , and beautiful with her hair lengthening down below her shoulders to her lower back. She was tall for a woman of that time, like a deer, her legs dwindling and thin yet she held a certain grace in her stride. This last month dark bags hung under her frightened eyes from being deprived of sleep, countless nights of fetching water for her child and holding him close to her heart as . For many long weeks her frail baby boy had been ill. 

No sign of ease as the coughing and wheezing became worse and worse. No doctor could be found in this small village and no one knew what sickness the baby carried. The white faced infant heaved another pitiful cough as blood trickled from his cracked pale pink lips.

Victoria gasped and snatched the cloth as her husband came back with the damp fabric. She dabbed her precious boys lips and wiped the blood away delicately.
" Hush now my child. You will be alright. Your mother is here..." Victoria whispered comfortingly as she kissed the baby boy's forehead.

The baby boy's name was Riyah, in ancient tongues meaning "Beloved one". Their language based off early english as they settled in a town hidden away in the deep confines of the forest. 

Only a year old Ryiah had always been weak and small. Yet this sickness still plagued him despite his already frail state. He had similar white-blonde hair passed down from his mother, pale ceramic skin, and bright almond shaped green eyes from his father.

He was a gorgeous child and the only one. His father and mother had lost all previous children and he was the only one alive. Victoria and Jarin having a kid then losing them twice to cold harshness of the winter and the sickness that was frequent in the demise of many who lived there, children no exception. He was beloved to his parents and they couldn't stand to loose him to the sickness he carried. Victoria's eyes were wide and round, resembling a frightened cat, as she clutched her baby close to her heart as if she were to let go the infant would fade away and be lost like her other previous deceased progeny. If they lost Riyah, they would lose hope.

" What do we do? Ryiah is losing his breath." Victoria managed tears starting to well and trickle down her cheeks. The father, known as Jarin, shook his head defeated with no idea how to save their child. Victoria weeped as Ryiah wheezed not able to breathe in her arms.

The door swung open to their home and hit with a loud thud against the wall. Victoria and Jarin both flinched with shock and turned around to face whomever had intruded. Jarin stood protectively in front of his family and instinctively
held up a dagger he kept in his work boot. Slipping the weapon out of the worn leather shoe as if he had done it a million times, whether it be skinning animals to eat or defending a family.
" If you have no medicine be gone!" The red headed man stated firmly his sea green eyes stormy and unpredictable as the dagger was pointed towards the enchantress with a scowl. 

The culprit raised her hands in surrender with a mocking grin on her painted black lips. It was Helena Lock, her magic spells and "blessings" well known and her true name like a spell itself, mysteriously arcane to a mere mortal . She clicked her tongue scoldingly and waved a finger, other hand on her hip.

" That's no way to treat the savior of your dying child. How utterly rude." Helena smirked and raised a brow before that smirk turned into a sneer. This family to her was nothing more than a game to suppress her unending boredom as the years passed. Her age like a complex painting, unmoving yet throughout time unmoving in it's beauty.