Chapter One: Blue Sisters

In the beginning was the swamp...

The Blue Sisters found his body, or rather, the pieces of bloodied meat wrapped in his weathered brown cloak that they could only assume belonged to the missing Lord Rennoll. In truth, the man was no lord, but he fancied himself the unchallenged ruler of the snake infested swamplands he so imaginatively dubbed Rennoll's Swamps. The nearest town was approximately three days away if one were to travel by wagon and much longer on foot, and since Rennoll caused little trouble outside of his cherished swamps, the town authorities left him be. This arrangement settled Rennoll perfectly fine, and he established his cruel lordship without opposition. No one knew exactly when Rennoll had come to the swamps; the man seemed to have always been part of them and despite the diseases that claimed many of the swamp dwellers' lives Rennoll continued his existence without even a fever. So it was with great surprise that the Blue Sisters found his remains by the Great Tree in the heart of the swamplands. The eldest of the Blue Sisters gazed up at the Great Tree with wise eyes.

"Oh, to be one of her branches," Silmeina said solemnly, "it would be an existence like no other, filled with knowledge. She is always seeing, always watching."

The youngest Sister, a girl no more than the age of seven with curly blond locks and watery blue eyes, tore her eyes from the chopped up body to stare at the Great Tree.

"Will she tell us?" she asked, her voice quavering slightly.

"Tell us what, Kila?” the eldest prodded gently. The two other Blue Sisters, who had not yet involved themselves in the conversation, began gathering the pieces of Lord Rennoll. His cloak was not quite large enough to contain all of him (and certainly not sturdy enough to hold the weight the man had carried when he lived) so the Sisters had to separate him into the baskets they had brought for collecting tree skins. 

"She must have seen it," the child called Kila replied. "She could tell us who killed Father."

At the word "Father" the other two Sisters stopped their work and hissed at her. Silmeina held up her palm in a gesture of peace.

"Hush, Sisters. She is too young to understand." Silmeina turned her attention back to Kila and rested a gentle hand on her shoulder. "You are so sweet and innocent, little Sister. It is right for you to be saddened by this man's death. But he is no father."

"I don't understand. He is everyone's father. Us Blue Sisters, the Whispering Brothers, the Dreaming Daughters--"

"That is enough, Kila.” Silmeina’s firm tone allowed no question as to whether or not Kila was permitted to continue talking. The youngest Blue Sister met the icy blue eyes of the eldest in silence.

"Sisters, we are ready to leave," spoke the uglier of the two Sisters who had packed away the pieces of Lord Rennoll. This Blue Sister was heavyset and hairy, with a permanently scowling face that harbored murky blue eyes barely visible through rolls of skin.

"Come." Silmeina offered her hand to Kila. "In time, you will understand. For now, remember only that you have no father. You are of the Blue Sisters and your only family is your Sisters. Forget about the meat we found by the Great Tree today."

The girl nodded obediently and took her elder Sister's hand. The four Blue Sisters picked up the baskets woven of vines with their grisly contents and quietly left the heart of the swamplands, the Great Tree watching their retreat.

The night sky gently held a full moon, but the thick vines and crowded trees of the swamplands conspired to hide what lay beneath their branches in a darkness that allowed only the barest slivers of silver moonlight. The Blue Sisters cast no shadows; their presence was given away only by the occasional trick of light as they walked through patches of moonlight or the soft squelching of their feet on the damp ground. The darkness held no fear for the Blue Sisters; the swamplands had raised them, nurtured them, and its protective, though at times stifling, natural features kept them hidden and safe from the outside world.

"Where do our sisters go with such miserable baskets?" The voice seemed to be spoken by the wind, so faint it was. The Blue Sisters continued on without a pause; an onlooker may have noticed a slight acceleration in their footfalls. The familiar swamp seemed to grow thicker about them and friendly vines now grasped at their feet, at their hair, and more eagerly at their baskets. 

"We would like to know the contents of those baskets, sisters…" The Blue Sisters made no pretense of their hurriedness and began running.

"Sisters, the swamp is our home. Why should you run?"

"There is nothing to fear."

"The baskets, sisters…"

"One shouldn't hide secrets from family, sisters…"

"Stop." The last voice was no whisper from the wind. It came from the man leaning confidently against a tree in front of them. A smile enriched the handsomeness of his face.

“Tirlock!” exclaimed Kila, but she was stopped from running to the man by the firm grip of the ugly Sister. The man’s eyes flicked to the child and then returned to the glare of Silmeina.

“Dearest Silmeina, what a pleasure it is to see you again.” His voice was smooth, practiced, and overwhelmingly alluring. 

“Brother.” She barely nodded in return. 

“Where are the others?” spoke the Sister with eyes the color of a dark blue sky on the brink of a storm. Tirlock’s gaze turned to her and his smile widened.

“Ever so curious, Sister Araka.” He gestured to the swamp around him. “They are with me, here. You should know that,” he admonished, “Did you not hear their voices?”

“I am not the curious one,” Araka replied, “I am not asking about the contents of the baskets.” At the mention of the baskets, Silmeina turned and hissed angrily at her Sister. 

“The baskets, yes.” Tirlock said thoughtfully. The swamp rustled. The Blue Sisters soon found themselves encircled by Tirlock, three other men, and a boy. The Sisters showed no signs of surprise, although the youngest Sister’s initial excitement at seeing Tirlock seemed to fade away in the presence of the others.

“We were asking about them.” The man who spoke was built like a mountain, his body bulging with muscle and his face chiseled and handsome. His voice did not escalate above a husky whisper. His was one of the whispers the Sisters had heard earlier.

“We would like to know the contents.” Another whisper, this voice also familiar to the earlier whispers. This man was tall like the previous whisperer, however his body was lean and wiry. But most people never noticed him past his face. It was scarred, misshapen, and grotesque.

“It is none of your concern, Lorn,” Silmeina spoke to the second whisperer. Lorn cocked his head and his face twisted in what might have been perceived as a mocking smile.

“Morn doesn’t agree,” he nodded in the direction of his whispering counterpart, the man built like a mountain. Morn had approached Araka, leering over her and reaching for the basket she held. Araka’s knuckles were white from how tight she was grasping the basket, her eyes focused forward, trying desperately to avoid any sort of contact with the man.

“Twins, please.” Tirlock finally spoke up. The two men, who were, in fact, twins though they looked nothing alike, took a step back into the receding light of the swamp.

“Tirlock, the Whispering Brothers need not concern themselves with the business of the Blue Sisters,” Silmeina decreed, her voice leaving no room for argument. A man of indefinite age who had been standing off to the left of Tirlock walked up beside Tirlock and placed his hand on Tirlock’s shoulder. His face was hidden behind a dark hood and his right hand was clenched by the small hand of a naked boy. The boy was watching Silmeina with curious eyes.

“Silmeina, you know we would not bother you without good cause.” Tirlock shrugged good-naturedly and motioned to the hooded man beside him. “Our eldest brother Alleman would simply like to take a look at the remains of our father.” At the word “father” Silmeina’s eyes hardened and her sisters gasped behind her.

“How do you know of the contents of these baskets?” Silmeina asked harshly, “Only moments ago you were asking about them.”

Tirlock laughed.

“For the effect!” he chuckled. He fell to one knee so as to be eye level with the youngest Blue Sister and spoke to her in a conspiratorial whisper. “Where you not scared, small Kila?” 

The girl was gripping tightly to Silmeina’s hand with both of her hands. Her eyes locked with Tirlock’s, she nodded. Tirlock grinned and pinched Kila’s cheek.

“See sister?” he said, standing and once again speaking to Silmeina. “Your question is answered.”

“This is getting tiresome,” Morn’s husky whispering voice spoke up, accompanied by an unconcealed sigh of contempt. “We want the baskets, not conversation.” Lorn grunted his agreement.

“You shall not have them.” Silmeina spoke firmly and began to lead her sisters away from the Whispering Brothers. She was stopped by the sudden presence of Alleman’s bony hand on her arm. Silmeina was tall for a woman, but the eldest of the Whispering Brothers towered over her, his figure tall, thin, and intimidating. He did not have to speak for Silmeina to know that she should not move or make any motion to stop his hand from lifting the lid of the basket she held. Her heart picked up and her breath came in short, fearful gasps. She stood rigid, eyes unfocused, as Alleman stared into the basket for several moments. All was silent.

Then the basket was closed and Alleman had returned to Tirlock’s side, once again holding the hand of the youngest, and least dressed, Whispering Brother, Obil.

“Come, Sisters,” Silmeina commanded, quickly leading her sisters away from the Whispering Brothers. The Blue Sisters did not speak of the incident as they continued their journey through the swamp. Neither did they speak of the way one last whisper seemed to follow their path, sighing through the trees and their vines,

“He is like meat for the hungry swampcat, our father is dead.”

Author's Note

Thoughts and criticism welcomed. I began this project during Camp Nanowrimo of July 2014. There is much more than this first chapter, but I have yet to decide if I wish to share the rest with you. Enjoy this little tidbit of my fantasy writing :)