Young Adult / Chapter One - Untitled
Dew clung resolutely to the leaves of the age-old oak, which quivered in the pre-dawn rapture. I stood with my eyes closed and my chin raised and allowed the unearthly strain to wash over me. The notes of the melody poured forth, each one simple and beautiful, and when they came together as one shimmered in my mind’s eye. I sang from my heart, allowing the melody to lead my voice along unknown paths.
A call in the distance cut through my reverie; I stopped singing abruptly, and soon the vestiges of the magic created by the music faded into the morning. I opened my eyes; the sun was now peering over the horizon and the hills glowed in the new light.
“Maelie? Maelie!” came the call, louder this time.
I sighed resolutely and turned in the direction of our cottage. I could see a thin woman standing at the open door, wiping her floured hands on her apron. Strands of her graying, wispy hair had escaped the leather cord and fluttered in the breeze. “I’m coming, Mother!”
I lifted my skirts and stepped carefully through the grasses. I was wearing my only presentable gown, and I wished to keep it so.
“Yes, Mother?” I questioned as I approached. She had an tired, exasperated expression and I wondered grimly what had caused it. Surely it was nothing I had done, I reasoned with myself, mentally reviewing the last few days.
“The mice got into the flour last night, Maelie,” Mother said without preamble. “It’s completely ruined.” I blinked in surprise, torn between relief that I was not the cause and dismay at this news. “You’ll have to stop by Derek’s on your way into town and purchase a sack.” Her lips tightened, and I knew it was because of the unforeseen expense. “He’ll likely be open only a few hours this morning.”
“I had better go then, if I’m to have time before the festival begins.”
Mother smiled, but the tension didn’t leave her eyes. Silently I cursed the mice that had infested our most basic supply. Of all the days! Spring festival was the only time of year our family had a chance to relax and simply enjoy ourselves, when we could temporarily forget about the problems of everyday life on a struggling farm. I hoped Mother would be able to put aside the small disaster and enjoy the celebration.
“Yes, you’d better. We’ll meet you at the pavilion in time for the music contest.”
I grinned at the mention of the contest, a thrill of anticipation running through me. “I’ll just go and bid goodbye to Father and Caleb before I go.” I stepped past Mother and into the dimly lit interior of the small cottage. The familiar sight greeted my eyes: the dented brass kettle simmering on the old but serviceable wood stove, the battered trunk, the sturdy wooden table. There sat my father, with his short, graying beard and kind smile, and my small brother, who sat perched on his baby’s chair, tapping his spoon upon the table. Several bowls of porridge sat steaming on the table; Mother sank into a chair and pulled one toward her, wearily dipping a rough pewter spoon beneath the surface.
I moved forward and kissed little Caleb on the top of his head, smoothing his soft baby hair back from his forehead. “Goodbye, Caleb,” I cooed, and was rewarded with a toothy smile and a vigorous wave of his spoon. Flecks of porridge splattered onto the table. I chuckled and straightened. “Goodbye, Father.”
He smiled at me through his whiskers. “I suppose your mother told you we’d meet you later?”
I nodded and turned toward the door. Grabbing a light shawl from its hook next to the door, I wrapped it around my shoulders. “Wish me luck!”
“Good luck!” my father called after me, accompanied by a delighted squeal from Caleb.
I smiled fondly as I set out on the winding road into town. Our money might be lacking in abundance, but the love between us was always overflowing.
I had been walking for but a quarter of an hour, humming softly to myself, when I noticed someone strolling toward me over the hill. Her long dress was pressed, her black hair pulled back from her face with a casual elegance I could never achieve. When she caught sight of me, a smile broke out on her lips; she hiked up her skirts and ran the remaining distance between us. Before I could as much as utter a syllable, she threw her arms around me.
“Tira!” I said when I could manage a breath. “What on earth? I thought your parents weren’t allowing you to attend the festival today!”
Tira released me and tucked in her arm into mine. Her dark eyes shone with warmth and exhilaration. “They surprised me this morning. Apparently they’re to close the inn for business until this evening!”
“So you’ll be able to hear me sing!”
“Oh,” said Tira, halting suddenly. “I forgot! The whole reason I came out here to surprise you: I’ve a gift for you, for good luck.” She reached into the pocket of her gown and drew out a blue ribbon.
I took it from her proffered hand, fingering its silky smoothness. “It’s beautiful.”
Tira stepped forward and took it back. “Here, then, turn around.” I turned my back and she carefully removed the rough leather cord that held back my hair. Nimbly braiding my long hair down my back, she tied it off with the ribbon.
She rested her chin momentarily on my shoulder. “There. You look beautiful.”
I turned to face her and smiled. “Thank you, Tira. I love it.”
Once again we walked along the road, arm in arm. “So why have you left so early, anyhow?” said Tira. “I meant to surprise you back at the cottage.”
I grimaced. “The mice got into our flour and it’s ruined, all of it. Mother asked me to stop at the mercantile before the festival starts.”
Tira’s dark eyes turned sympathetic. I stopped her before she could say anything. “It’s no matter. Tell me about the guests in the inn.” Our village was along the main road to Crown City; though small, we had multitudes of travelers pass through, and interesting folk often stayed at the inn. More often than not, Tira had an amusing anecdote to relate.
“There’s a band of minstrels here for the festival.” Tira shot me a sideways look, as if to assess my interest in this piece of news.
One eyebrow shot up. “Minstrels always come for the festival. That’s nothing odd.”
“These were foreign minstrels, from Cauna.”
I only glanced at her, waiting for her to continue.
“They were quite talkative a breakfast this morning. Seems they’re on their way to Crown City.”
I sighed, amused and irritated at her facetious covertness. “Just tell me, Tira. I can see you’re bursting with some wonderful tidings.”
“They’re on their way to free music lessons in Crown City.”
I turned to look at her. “What? I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
Tira shrugged, grinning. “I only repeat what I’ve heard. Mayhap you should come to the inn tonight and speak to them about it.”
Nodding, I matched her grin, as the idea began to sink in. Free music lessons. I had been singing since I could talk, and had always gazed longingly at the beautifully carved instruments hanging in the window at Derek’s Mercantile. To be able to learn to play them would be a wondrous thing. “That would be wonderful, thank you, Tira!’
Tira waved off my thanks and fluttered her lashes in feigned embarrassment. “’Tis nothing, nothing!”
By now we had reached the outskirts of town. People already bustled through the streets, hurrying to complete their errands before the festival began midmorning. We smiled and waved at familiar faces as we made our way to a building bearing the legend “Derek’s Mercantile.”
A small bell tinkled, announcing our arrival as I pushed the door open. I inhaled a deep breath; I loved the smell of the mercantile: pristine bolts of fabric, freshly-carved tools and toys, barrels of oats, wheat, and corn. Jars lined the counter filled with sweets for the children; the shelves were filled with all manner of items both practical and frivolous, from hatpins to oil lamps.
“Well, hullo there!” Derek, a portly man with a mass of fiercely red hair, hailed us from behind the counter, where he was polishing a brass stewpot. He set the pot on the counter with a thud. “Maelie, Tira. A good morning to you.”
“To you as well.” I said.
“Well, then, what can I help you with this fine morning?”
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Nice setup. I’m curious what comes next :) Mostly, I’ve pointed out the grammatical stuff. Not all of what I’m pointing out is “errors” but maybe some things to consider or research.
”...notes of the melody poured forth, each one simple and beautiful, and when they came together as one shimmered in my mind’s eye.”—this sentence is a little confusing. Might be a typo, because I get the gist of what you’re saying, but there might be an extra word or two?
“A call in the distance cut through my reverie; I stopped singing abruptly, and soon the vestiges of the magic created by the music faded into the morning.”—period instead of semi-colon. Never underestimate the power of short sentences ;p
“I opened my eyes; the sun was now peering over the horizon and the hills glowed in the new light.”—I know you like past perfect, but I’m pointing this out so you can compare the two and see which fits better. Consider: ”...the sun now peered over the horizon, and the hills glowed in the new light.” (you may not even need “now”)
“I was wearing my only presentable gown, and I wished to keep it so.”—like above, just compare the two: “I wore my only…” but if you decide to keep your version, I think it would sound better as “Wearing my only presentable gown, I wished to keep (it clean?)” play with the last 2 words ;p
“She had an tired, exasperated expression and I wondered grimly what had caused it.”—first the typo (a tired), and also I think you need a comma after expression.
“Spring festival was the only time of year our family had a chance to relax and simply enjoy ourselves, when we could temporarily forget about the problems of everyday life on a struggling farm.”—semi-colon instead of comma. I’m sure you’ve already heard this, but a comma is like half a breath, a semi-colon is a full breath, and a period is a transitional pause. Another way to look at a semi-colon’s use is by comparing the colon. A colon acts as an equal sign, where both sides state the same action or feeling but are worded differently. A semi-colon is like reiterating the same thought. At least that’s how I learned it, whether I’m right or wrong.
“The familiar sight greeted my eyes: the dented brass kettle simmering on the old but serviceable wood stove, the battered trunk, the sturdy wooden table.”—When you use a colon and follow with a list like you are here, there should be semi-colons instead of commas to segregate each item. If it wasn’t a list of items, just a long descriptive sentence that needed a few pauses, THEN you would use commas :)
“Several bowls of porridge sat steaming on the table;”—period instead of semi-colon
”...accompanied by a delighted squeal from Caleb.”—Cute image :)
“When she caught sight of me, a smile broke out on her lips; she hiked up her skirts and ran the remaining distance between us.”—period instead of semi-colon
“Tira released me and tucked in her arm into mine”—typo ;p
“To be able to learn to play them would be a wondrous thing. “That would be wonderful, thank you, Tira!”—Either use a synonym for wondrous or wonderful. Together, they steal the power from the sentence.
“Mayhap you should come to the inn tonight and speak to them about it.”—Isn’t the Inn closed for the day? Maybe I misunderstood?
Exellent storytelling. Your characters are well defined. You didn’t describe much of their surroundings as far as landscape, but from all the other details (cottages, prarie, dresses, festival, porridge, poverty, etc…) you paint a clear picture of the time-period and thus, we are allowed to fill in the blanks :) I’d like to read more :)
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