God Child

Chapter 1

Sitting on a small stool in front of her stepparents shop,  Maral was bored. The shop across the way was bustling with customers, it was a flower shop and the pleasant smells always made her happy. She watched a fly buzzing the patrons, landing on a young lady dressed in an expensive looking frock. Annoyed the lady tried in vain to swat it away but it deftly avoided her maneuverings. Maral laughed quietly and continued her observations if the street. 

The black shop four doors down wasn't as busy, the shady couple that entered the shop looked around them anxiously. It's bricks were pitch black with velvety black curtains drawn tight against the brilliant sun. The potted flowers were also black, irises from the looks of them. The shop gave her the creeps and she couldn't understand who would want to go into its unwelcome interior. 

"Hot sweet cakes, " a peddler in the other direction shouted drawing her attention. He was a boy of perhaps sixteen and he was filthy. The dark aura surrounding him made her cringe. She looked away as he turned and smirked at her suggestively.

The blacksmith,  Fezrik, was out of his shop trying to catch the faint breeze. Sweat poured down his beat red face and he wiped at it ineffectively with a strained kerchief. His large bulging muscles strained against his rolled up shirt sleeves as he lowered his arm. Stretching he noticed her observing him and waved with a friendly smile on his face. 

She returned the greeting and turned to glance into her stepparents shop. The gentleman talking with her stepfather was elderly with graying hair, crows feet around his eyes and yellow teeth. He was there to get a tonic for his rheumatism. The hefty purse of coins he handed over arrested to the quality of Rhea and Silas'arts. People came from all over to purchase tonics or salves from the talented white witches. The slight radiant glow surrounding them boasted their purity.

Maral sulked on her stool miserably. She had no glow to her and she felt as if she shamed Rhea and Silas for being an ordinary human girl. They had always encouraged her telling her they were proud of her when she accomplished something, but their glowing aura made her feel inadequate. She never shared this with them, of course they would frown at her and tell her it was nonsense. 

"Stop thief," a loud angry shout drew her attention back outside and to her left towards the blacksmith's shop.

A filthy little boy ran past her with an arm full of bread from the baker around the corner. The steam rising from his arms smelt of fresh risen yeast and made her stomach growl with hunger as he ran by. The fear in his eyes made her pity the poor boy who was probably homeless and parentless. The armed officials pounded down the street past her just as the young boy rounded the corner. 

"Stop," the one official shouted as they turned the corner in hot pursuit. They would never catch him if he was a good thief. The few loafs he had dropped were being devoured by the towns town's stray dogs. 

She stood and entered the shop the smell of the fresh bread had hungered her. She wandered to the kitchen which was behind the curtain towards the back. Rhea was standing in front of the hearth stirring a hearty stew that made Maral salivate. 

"Can I help?" Maral asked looking at the large carrots and potatoes floating in circles behind the constantly moving spoon.

"You can set the table and tell Silas it's time to eat," Rhea smiled affectionately at her stepdaughter.

Walking the short distance to the cupboards she retrieved three bowls and three spoons. Placing them on the small round table she walked back towards the counter and picked up the loaf of fresh bread that she had purchased this morning from the baker. She hoped the filthy little boy had escaped his pursuers, it was a shame that there were starving homeless children in this small village. Finished with lunch preparations she walked back into the shop to inform Silas lunch was ready. 

Silas had just finished with old Gias and turned when Maral entered the room. His awkward stepdaughter shuffled towards him and he smiled encouragingly knowing one day she would blossom into the lovely woman she yearned to be. 

"Lunch is ready," she said meekly.

"It smells wonderful don't you think. "

"Yes father, " she replied. 

He reached out and warmly hugged her. She smiled up at the only man she could remember as her father. They walked back into the dining area and sat at the little table. Rhea poured soup into the round bowls and they all bowed their heads. 

"Usratha, thank you for this feast we are about to consume," Silas prayed. He cracked his aching knuckles before he picked up his spoon to enjoy his wife's wonderful stew. They were getting old and the tonics he used to relieve his pains was no longer as affective as they once were.

"A boy robbed the baker," Maral said between bites of beef nonchalantly. Her parents looked at her curiously. 

"Oh," Rhea raised one eye brow. They had this conversation at least once every couple of months and Rhea sighed. 

"I wish there were more families like you two," Maral looked at her stepparents hopefully.

Silas shook his head knowing where this conversation was going. Everytime Maral saw some unfortunate child on the streets she would ask about her past and Silas tried everything he could to avoid it. "Well not everyone is as fortunate as we are," he started. 

Maral scowled into her soup and knew she would get no where with them. She did not continue with the conversation, they would just avoid it and she was in no mood to be given the brush off yet again. Finishing with her last piece of bread she got up from the table with an abruptness that mad her stepparents cringe. 

"Maral," Rhea said gently. 

She scraped her bowl in the sink and rinsed it. Turning she looked at then slightly angry. 

"I'm going out for a bit if you no longer need me," it wasn't a question. 

Maral knew her parents didn't need her she had not recieved either light or dark powers so she was useless to them. Usually at puberty a child developed either one or the other. Not her though, at the age of twenty she was powerless and miserable because of it. They nodded at her and she left the shop without hesitation. 

She walked in the direction the boy had run in hopes of finding him safe. Before leaving the house she had discreetly grabbed a few apples thinking she would give them to the boy. If I was on the run from people where would I hide,  she mused.

Turning at the end of the street she surveyed the area and slowly began walking down it imagining the chase and following her instincts she went left down the next street. A quick right down an alley led her to the main street in the village. In her mind she imagined the boy coming to this spot and panicking. She looked up and down the square court yard at the middle of the village. It's fountain splashing loudly as she looked around. She walked slightly out of the alley, making her decision she turned right. 

The sun was low when she gave up the chase the boy was nowhere to be found. She had searched the entire town and found no trace of him. Ending her search in the town square she sat at the edge of the fountain uncertain of why the boys fate mattered so much to her. She was upset, he had probably not escaped his pursuers. In a fowl mood she seethed at the injustice of it. 

The sound of pounding hooves grabbed her attention. A small group of men were riding into town with an urgency that confused her.  There were three of them in total, two of them wore matching uniforms. The third one must be a lord's son,  she thought. He was dressed in pale blue that accented his beautiful black eyes, eyes which happened to be watching her with an interest that unsettled her. Her heart began to beat faster and a panicked feeling in the pit of her stomach made her want to run. Simple curiosity held her in place as they drew closer to allow their horses a rewarding drink at the fountain she was perched on. 

The noble man looked back at his companions and nodded. They obediently dismounted and went to the inn to secure rooms and a place in the stables for their horses. Returning his gaze to the young woman sitting at the fountain; he was intrigued. The panic in her eyes made his heart race with excitement. Her long white hair; an odd trait on someone so young; was blowing in the gentle breeze and seemed to have a mind of its own. Her slender form twitched preparing for an action she was not ready to initiate. 

The faint dark aura surrounding him let her know his powers. Strange that it didn't frighten her to have this man silently observing her. From her experience she knew that most dark witches had a certain cruelness to them. The tall dark stranger did not appear threatening to her. His eyes were infinite blackness that vaguely reminded her of something from her mysterious past. There was a gentleness to his face that made her forget almost instantly the unease the memory stirred in her. 

He watched as her muscles visibly began to relax and he smiled at her. The frightened girl had stirred an unknown feeling in him. He felt like he knew her, it was impossible but his magic was drawn to her. 

"Lord Phirun, the room's are ready, "one of his guards yelled from around the back of the inn.

"My lady, " he said as he turned his horse towards the inn. He glanced over his shoulder and watched her till he was out of sight. 

She flushed slightly unaccustomed to the attention. Something inside her recognized him as he spoke. There was no way she had ever seen him before, but her spirit knew him. With him out of sight she felt it was time to go back to the shop and her stepparents, they would begin to worry if she didn't return soon.