Pie: A sample excerpt.

A sample of things to come...

The goal was ahead, sitting atop the glorious pedestal begging for a hero brave enough to reach it and partake of it's sweet rewards. The rich smell of the dungeon wafted out through open door, the monster, the devilish oger that guarded the treasure was right there, back turned, smashing away at the last hero who attempted the spoils. He held his breath and pushed a bright red lock from his face. Counting. The key was timing. The other boy had been careless and was now paying the price. Patience and timing. It was all that mattered. 
The boy cried out as the monster drug him through the other doorway, the time had come. He stood and bolted, snatching the pie and running through the garden. 
A cry of anger echoed after him as he leaped over the fence, careful not to damage his newly acquired treasure, slipped into the stables. 
Cook hated the stables, it was dirty and smelled, so it was the safest place to hide. He knew that Lord Tristain was going to be livid, He would probably beat him again, but it was worth it. It was worth every minute of it to be able to savor the sweet fruit and rich crust. Besides. It was good training for when he became a warrior. He was probably even going to be knighted. After all he was the only one who was smart enough to escape with the pie still intact day after day.

"Who are you?"

He jumped at the voice, he was sure he had found the perfect hiding place, how had someone found him? He turned, fearing it was one of the kitchen staff, certain death was sure to follow. He would be dragged back to the kitchen and Cook would grab his ear and take him directly to his mother. 

"Who are you?" He snapped back, looking for the source of the mysterious voice.

"I'm me. Can I taste it? I only want a bite, I promise I won't take too much." The voice belonged to a pair of feet that were dangling from the shelf above him.

"Your name is not 'Me', and why are you up there? Why should I share with you?" He snapped. It was bad enough that someone had found his secret place, but this voice was taunting him.

"I didn't mean to scare you. I just wanted to hide and you came. You don't have to share. I just want to know what it tastes like. I never had none." The feet vanished from sight.

He was starting to feel a little guilty, It was a big pie after all, there was more then enough for two. But if that was a fairy then no good could come from sharing. The last thing he needed was for a fairy to think they were friends. Still...

"How is it you never had pie?" He asked. If it was a fairy he had to trick them. They never admitted to things, not by what the stories told.

"Because we are poor, and because pa don't like me. If we get goodies I never get none. He says I am stupid, so I don't know what I ain't gettin'." The voice answered.

"So, who is your da?" This was sure to answer the question! If it couldn't tell him who it's father was it had to be a fairy. 

"Me pa is a hunter. He's on the duke of Raling's staff. Fredrik McHolden. I don't got his name though. He don't like me so I got ma's name."

He looked down at the pie. This seemed like it wasn't a fairy. It seemed like it was a person, after all Duke Raling did have several huntsmen in his employ. 

"I might share, but you have to come down here first." He said, scooting to the side so there was room for another person.

"I can't. You will hate me just like pa." The voice answered. "You can leave the taste and I'll get it when you go away."

"That isn't nice. If you want some you have to ask me to my face. It's manners." Maybe it was a fairy, after all it didn't want him to look at it. "Why are you up there anyways?"

"Because when people look for me they look down. If I am up they can't find me." The voice answered. "What is your name?"

"You have to tell me first." Curiosity was killing him. He had to know who the voice belonged to.

"Chenoa. Now can you tell me who you are?"

"I'm Ferron Rowe, Son of Lord Nathan Rowe and Lady Alaeta. I'll give you half if you come down here."

"No, I can't take half. That is your's and I can't come down there. You would be afraid. Everyone is afraid." The voice sounded sad.

"Then I will come up there and give you half." Ferron stood up on his toes to look over the shelf.

It sat there with it's knees against it's chest, it's face buried in it's crossed arms. Snow white hair fell in a thick curtain around it's grey dress. 

"Are you a fairy?" He asked, setting the pie on the ledge and pulling himself up beside it.

"No, I am a girl. If I was a fairy I would run away into the woods and I wouldn't have to hide here."

"I suppose. But why do you have to hide here?" He asked, taking his knife and cutting the pie into sections. "Here, have some."

The girl looked up, her face was a pale as her hair. Only the slightest red mark across her nose and cheeks. Her eyes were a faded blue, and red, as if she had been crying.

"Pie is good for the soul, it's what my brother says. I think you need more then a taste." Ferron pushed the plate towards her.

"Pa says I don't have a soul." She frowned, "So maybe it's not good for me."

"How old are you?" Ferron asked. This girl seemed so small, it made him a little sad that she didn't think she had a soul.

"Seven."

"Well I'm eight and a half, so I am much smarter then you. I can tell you have a soul because you are talking and breathing. If you didn't have a soul you would be dead. You do kinda look like a ghost and ghosts are just dead souls that run around and scare people."

"Then you are scared of me?" She ashed looking longingly at the pie. "I'm not a ghost though, because ghosts can't eat, and I want a taste of the pie."

"I said you can have half of the pie. And I am not scared of you. I am not scared of anything."

"But everyone is scared of something. Have you ever had lashings?" She reached for the pie reluctantly, as if she was expecting him to slap her hand.

"I suppose I am scared of lashings." He agreed. "If you really like the pie I will try and get another one tomorrow. Would you like to come with me?"

"I can't, if I am outside it hurts." She pointed to the red line across her nose and cheeks. "The more I am outside the longer it hurts me, so I can't do fun things."

"But you had to go outside to come here." He was getting confused. It was true that if you stayed outside for too long the sun would bite at you, but he had never been out long enough for it to hurt.

"I know. That is why my face is hurting." She nodded. "The sun doesn't like me. Just like Pa doesn't like me."

"Well, I like you." Ferron grinned reveling the wide gap where his tooth had fallen out.

She looked at him in shock, her mouth full of pie. The slightest hint of a smile forming around her puffed out cheeks.

"So, you will come tomorrow, then, and I'll bring you a pie. It's been settled."

Reviews

[R Smith]

I like this story, the air of mystery around the girl is drawing me on to learn more, the whole thing is well written and entertaining i hope i will hear more of it :)

[Kitalia Emme]

There is actually much much more, as I wrote this to accompany The Journal of Genna Oryn and Tidesong.

I have not decided if it will just be a set of short stories, or if I will combined them into one story, but this was a look into the past to answer a question that a reader (on another site) had.

Chenoa is by far one of my favorite creations, so I assure you there will be more of her.

[R Smith]

that's great i will look for it :)