Chapter 1 - The Boy Found in the Woods

Once upon a time, there was a small town nestled by the sea called Dusky Moon. Sailors who docked at its ports claimed that the winds and the land itself had blessed the valley surrounding the town, for a fair breeze always flowed from the sea and up into the hills encasing the town, which gave the crops plentiful and succulent produce. The sun’s rays spilled down the valley and enveloped all the land in a warm blanket, making the town’s wheat and barley produce the finest mead and the most delectable bread.

Reginald Black loved his town. As mayor of Dusky Moon he couldn’t be more proud of the good fortune and hard work that gave the town its reputation. The town’s fishermen had made a name for the town by the sheer amount of large saltwater fish they caught. Demand from foreign countries transformed their port into a lucrative and notable trade.

On a particularly foggy and dreary morning he began his day by taking his usual stroll to the grassy knolls that made up the valleys surrounding the town. He was an elderly man, who had lost his right leg in a war many years prior, but was spry enough that these walks provided him no excessive discomfort. The war that ravaged the world ten years ago left many scars, and though the land had healed there were many like the mayor who still felt its reverberations.

The clouds that passed overhead cast a languid ominous stretch of shadow, one that seemed to cut off the boundary between the town and the world beyond.

Reginald contemplated the peculiarity of this and as if fulfilling some inner unease the man’s right leg began acting up. Slight pains were coming from where a wooden leg had replaced his limb. His hands began shaking as unpleasant memories were creeping upon him. Psychological wounds from the war, his doctor had told him. The woman called it “phantom limb,” though he was surprised he could still feel it. She claimed it would only last a few years, so how odd it would act up now.

With great purpose he used his cane and made his way cautiously down the steep hills and back to his wife. As he neared the town’s outskirts, something caught his eye. It was a slight movement out of the corner of his eye, and turned towards a small patch of woods. Reginald’s eyes strained as coattails vanished just beyond a row of thick trees. Despite his curiosity, he was no fool.

The mayor was the best sword fighter in his cavalry in the Chanson War. He had no doubt of his ability to subdue any possible attacker, though his leg gave him pause. Erring on caution, he slowly held his cane up defensively and limped closer to the gnarled woods ahead.

The trees were bent and looked bizarrely shaped and twisted about. The manner of how unnatural the foliage appeared did little to stifle his intrinsic desire to leave.

It was disturbingly quiet. He was about to take his leave, and stopped as he saw just to his right a small child rolling around on the emerald colored grass. As he got closer what was once a shimmering green was now a dull, earthy brown. All around the boy in a perfect circle the grass appeared dead and beyond any inclination to grow again.

The boy wore only a long tattered black shirt. His skin was covered in small cuts and bruises. The idea that a young child was abandoned in the woods so callously touched on something inside the old mayor. Reginald and his wife, Rosalind, found that they could not conceive a child, and to find one so young thoughtlessly left alone was more than he could bear. He bent low and tenderly patted the boy on the head, all the while keeping a close eye on his surroundings.

No footprints were left anywhere near the boy, and he couldn’t perceive anyone else near them in the forest. It was as if the boy had simply appeared and found the now dead woodland floor a suitable place to meander about. The woods used to be such a vibrant green, and the ground around them both looked so wrong to the man. Had the child been responsible?

“This entire affair was too strange,” he thought to himself. “What would Rosalind do with him?”

The boy himself hadn’t moved much since Reginald’s arrival. He continued to sit and pat the dirt, amused at the dust clouds he was making. His eyes were large and startlingly blue, contrasting the rusty crimson mop of hair on his head. The lad’s ears were rather long and tipped at the ends, though only slightly. Could he have been some sort of an elf, perhaps? Even a half-elf? And yet he knew well enough that there existed no mixture of blue eyes and red hair. The boy was a fascinating conundrum.

Black stood and squinted, trying to peer as hard as he could into the dark beyond stretching into the deep woods, and yet he couldn’t see or hear anything. If someone had deposited the child, it had been long before he’d arrived. The elderly mayor pondered just how long the poor boy was left alone out here, and gave a start as a small pair of hands tugged on his slacks.

Those deep azure eyes stared up at him with a child’s curious wonder. Black gave a defeated sigh, smiling as he gently bent low and lifted the small boy into his arms. His nose crinkled slightly at the boy’s stench and made sure to note the bath he’d be getting soon. He held him in one arm as the other used his cane to begin the laborious walk back into Dusky Moon.

“Don’t worry, little one. We’ve a good home for you, and you won’t be �"” He stopped as he took another careful look at the child. His hair was a dark, deep ebony now. But that was absurd! Unless his age was catching up to him, he was quite certain it had been a dark red before.

Even as they began to make their back down to the town below, that strange occurrence continued to nag at him. Ah! But what a fool he had been! His spectacles surely must have been smudged from his long trek around the slopes surrounding his beloved town. That surely must be the reason for his vision to play such a trick on him.

The mayor and the boy neared the entrance to the town, and the boy slept so soundly nuzzled against him that it gave the older man pause. He smiled softly and gently patted his unkempt hair, and then almost fell with the boy under him as he suddenly tripped over a rotted log, a tangled vine wrapped completely around his ankle.

He regained his footing and stared down at the brown foliage clamped around his good foot. “How strange,” he muttered to himself. Reginald Black had always prided himself on his natural athleticism in his youth that transformed into a kind of grace he possessed even as he had aged so.

The man had walked the vast fields and slopes all around the town for years, and he could not recall such an obvious and old log ever being here before. He shook his head, merely thinking his age had finally got the better of him. He made a mental note to stop such long treks alone until he procured a better pair of spectacles.

Black made his way into the town, the boy in tow, and stopped before the modest manor he shared with his wife. Soft, brown eyes looked down at the boy, and as the child looked back, he could see a tiny curious smile on the little one’s face. He was reminded of his own father’s inquisitiveness and decided on a name.

“Welcome to your new home, my boy. You won’t be alone anymore, little Jeremy.”

Reviews

[Cora]

This sounds interesting, its already caught my attention too bad their isn't more. I'm new here too and was looking for some good reads and I found one!

Sorry for not reviewing, been doing some writing myself. You're doing very well in this chapter, as I believe I told you once before. I don't see any problems that would take away from it. Keep up the good work!