It was a cold dark night and the only light for miles came from the fireplace. Outside, the wind howled as if furious that there was a fire it could not snuff out. The snow danced manically, whipped into a frenzy by the wind. None of this was noticed by the occupants of the house.  Silence ruled the house as the occupants sat staring at the sleeping baby, pondering. A child so long yearned for that they had given up hope. They were supposed to be happy but fate seemed to have dealt them a cruel trick: the child was born with the marking of the horn. As prescribed by Law, all children born with the marking of the horn must be killed at birth. Cursed are those born with the mark. Such Marked men and women bring only death and destruction. Legends tell of countries destroyed, cities engulfed by fire or swallowed by water, of fields where nothing grows, even after a thousand years.  The man looked at his wife. He knew that neither of them would be able to kill the child, even if this child meant the end of them or of the world. They had waited too long, hoped until they had almost given up and prayed until their voices became hoarse. The man knew they were being selfish but he did not care. How could such a tiny creature bring about such destruction? The man told himself that those tales were just legends, just myths. They would keep the child, no matter the cost.

Chapter 1

Belor knew he was not like other children early on even though he had never really met other children his age. He was a small child and had a skin disease on his right forearm that was very infectious and had to avoid contact with everyone. His parents were immune and therefore his mother could apply the reddish medicinal paste to his arm and rebandage it very evening. To tell the truth, he did not mind the disease, it didn’t actually hurt. However, his parents were always very protective. They told him that he shouldn’t get too excited or exert himself too much. He tried his best to do as his parents asked but they never let him go anywhere, talk to anyone or even play.  Belor couldn’t understand why his parents were so careful, they made him feel like he could break. Except for the skin disease, he never got sick and he always felt like he was about to burst with energy… or maybe that he just felt that way because his parents never let him do anything, not even run.  

Though Belor was a very serious and conscientious child, there was a secret that he had kept from his parents. He hadn’t meant to disobey them. He had made a friend, an old lady who lived on her own in the woods. She had rescued him one day from a hunter’s trap and he would often visit her secretly. His mother had told him that his disease was most contagious when he removes the bandage so he always made sure it was on extra tight when he went to visit old Magda. She was a kind women and taught Belor a lot about the woods. Her husband had been a hunter and she had lived most of her life out here in the woods with him. When he passed away, she stayed on. She taught Belor a lot about setting traps and tracking. She also taught him how to find edible and medicinal plants, of which she sold or traded to the townspeople for things she could not make or find in the woods. Those visits were always special for him, it felt nice to be in the company of someone other than his parents.

Belor found Magda’s teachings fun and useful in his daily life. As his parents didn’t want him to exert himself, Belor was given chores that did not require much physical activity. He took care of the chicken, the hogs and the sheep. As they often did, Belor would lead the sheep out to pasture with his father. As he sat watching the sheep, he would dream about going on adventures. What he wanted most of all was to go to the town since he had never been there. Surely, going to town would be a real adventure!

The day that changed his life forever started off like any other day. However, on that day, Belor felt his isolation more keenly than other days. It wasn’t that he was lonely, his parents gave him plenty of attention and when they couldn’t, he would read and he loved his books. It was just that sometimes, he felt caged in. As Belor sat there, he was suddenly struck with a wonderful idea. His father had left him in the hills to mind the sheep while he went home to get more supplies. Belor knew that his father would not be back until the next day.  He could travel to town and back in less time than that and his father would never know that he was gone. He would tell Magda all about it when he came back. It was only one more little secret. Belor was so delighted at the thought and started running, arms out as if he was about to fly. He felt like he was flying. The scenery flashed by so quickly. Before he knew it, he was at the entrance to the town. He looked at the shadows and thought that it was strange that his shadows were still in the same place. If would usually take half a day’s walk from the pasture to town so his shadow should have moved more. But the town beckoned and he did not want to waste his time thinking about silly things when there were streets upon streets to explore.

He walked down the cobbled stone streets for the first time. They felt hard and funny beneath his feet. The buildings were so tall! And there’s so many of them! Suddenly, the excitement faded and he felt like as if the houses would cave in and fall on him. The smells and sounds of the town assaulted him. There were so many people about. The street vendors shouting off their wares, each trying to outdo the other. The smell of meat pies filled the air. He felt elated yet nauseous at the same time. He found it so strange that in a place with so many people, nobody really notices each other. Some of these people walked by each other without seemingly seeing the other. Certainly, no one seemed to have noticed him. Very few people had looked his way. He was glad yet disappointed at the same time. He wanted to talk to others yet he was afraid as he had only talked with his parents and Magda. His parents had been adamant against him talking to strangers. Even the farmhands at the farm who he had grown up with had been given instructions to not talk to him. In the past 13 years of his life, he could count the words he had exchanged with them.

Before he realized it, he was already at the edge of town.  Belor heard the laughter of other children and followed it. How happy they sounded. He stood, on the edges of the town, watching the other children play. Belor wondered how old they were but did not dare approach them to ask. Suddenly, one of the children spotted him and ran over. She was covered in dust and sweat. By the time she got to where he was, she was panting slightly. Belor had never felt so nervous before in his young life.

“Hi, I’ve never seen you around here before, are you a traveller?” she said. Her voice was bright and clear. Her high pitched voice was so different from his mother’s.  

“Er, no,” Belor swallowed. Why did his mouth feel so dry? “I live in one of the farms outside so I don’t come to town often.” His voice sounded unnaturally high to his ears.  

Fortunately for Belor, the girl made up for his silence with more than enough talk. She seemed to sense his nervousness and she took him away from the other children and, inexplicably, made him feel comfortable. When she found out that he had never played any games, she promised to teach him all the ones she knew. She taught him nursery rhymes with strange hand motions and claps, games that you could play with stones, and leaves. Some of the games were fun, like when they climbed the trees and pretended that they were bandits while others were just too strange, like the one where she pretended that mud was food. Why would anyone want to eat mud? Belor found some of the games to be downright silly but he did not want to stop his new friend. Belor repeated the word in his head again, friend. He relished the word.

By the end of the afternoon, Belor was exhausted. Belor was tired but he had never felt happier.  Suddenly, he felt a drop of rain and it started to drizzle.

“I have to go now, see you next time Belor,” she said.  As the girl turned, Belor reached out to grab her. He had forgotten to ask her name. All those hours of talking and laughing and playing and he had forgotten.

“Wai-” The moment he touched her, there was a giant lightning. His vision turned white, the sound of thunder filled his ears and he was knocked to the ground by its force. Was he just hit by lightning? Was he alive?  He couldn’t see anything. He could still feel his own hands. He could feel his face. Nothing hurt. He must still be alive. Belor thought that that lightning must have been very close for it to blind him. His skin still prickled from the intensity in the air. Belor waited for his vision to clear of the spots that were dancing in front of his eyes. It was like when he would sometimes stare at the sun when he was tending the sheep and had nothing to do. Nothing prepared him for what he saw in front of him. He had expected a tree or something nearby to have been struck by lightning. A burnt patch of grass or something  but there was nothing. Nothing except for the pile of clothes that his new friend had been wearing, now soaked wet with rainwater. Did the lightning hit her? Could lightning do that to someone? Make them disappear? But why were her clothes there? Unsinged?

He couldn’t think. What had happened? Before he knew it, he was already running. Why was he running? Why was he carrying her clothes in his hands? Where was he going? He didn’t know the answers to those questions. Maybe she had been playing a trick on him… that he had imagined it all. Belor slowed down. Yes, that must be it. She was just playing a trick on him. There’s no way the lightning hit her. There was nothing broken and her clothes were completely undamaged. Belor let out a little laugh. Well, two can play at that game. To punish her for making him insanely worried, Belor hid the clothes in a bush. Ha! That should teach her not to make people think she disappeared. Belor walked off and hid behind another bush, thinking  that the girl would soon come chasing after him for her clothes. She must’ve hidden herself while he was blind from the lightning. Belor waited but she did not come. Maybe she’s not that fast at running. I’ll just wait a little longer. Belor waited and waited. It got dark. His clothes had long since dried.  Still she did not come. Belor knew that he could not wait much longer as he had to return to his sheep. His father would return the next day. He took out the pile of clothes and draped them on the bush. This way, they’ll be dry when she comes for them. Belor then started to walk back, exhausted from his day out. He also realized he had forgotten to eat anything in his excitement at being free. By the time he got back to the hut at the pasture, he was too exhausted to eat. Belor soon fell asleep, his dream full of the games he played with his friend.

Belor woke later than he usually did. The sun was already high in the sky. He did a quick count of the sheep to make sure that none had wandered off while he was gone. He then lit a little fire to warm the food that his mother had made for him the other day. Yesterday seemed like a dream now. As much as he loved his parents, it was really fun to play with someone his own age. His parents were old and didn’t play any games with him. Belor chuckled at himself when he thought about the trick that the girl had played on him. It was quite funny, thinking about it now. Next time, he will have to outdo her somehow.

Late in the afternoon, his father returned. He seemed to look upset.

“What’s wrong, father?” Belor asked.

“Nothing, son. Some people from town had come to the house this morning asking if we had seen a child in the area. The whole town has been out looking for her after she did not return home last night.”

Belor listened but thought that it would be too much of a coincidence that it was his friend. She had gone home. That was why she did not come get her clothes.

“The girl’s relatives found her clothes hanging on a bush. The parents were just wrecks when they came over to the house… Belor, are you feeling sick?” His father’s voice was filled with concern but Belor could not hear him anymore. It was her. It was her clothes that he had put on a bush. How many clothes on bushes could there be in the woods? She hadn’t returned home. Where did she go? Should he tell his father what had happened? No, he couldn’t. Then he would have to tell his father he had disobeyed and gone into town without permission.  

“Were you caught out in the rain yesterday? I told you that you had to be careful, even though you never get sick, you must not tempt fate,” his father continued, fussing over him.  

Had she gotten lost afterwards? Or did she not dare return home with no clothes? Why had she taken them off in the first place? So many questions filled his little mind. Belor spent the rest of the day doing his chores in a daze, his head filled with concern for his little friend.

That night, after his father fell asleep, he snuck out of the hut and went into the woods. He thought maybe he could help look out for her. There were places little people like him could fit in that adults never looked at. Belor searched all his favorite hiding places but she was nowhere to be found. After many hours, Belor sat down to rest and think about where he should look for his friend next. He started rubbing his arm. It was the first time his skin disease ever made him uncomfortable. It had been itching the whole day. The more he rubbed, the more it itched so he rubbed harder. He looked down at his arm and suddenly noticed that there was smoke coming out of the bandages. It was a strange smoke, it seemed to make its own light and it glowed in the night. More and more smoke poured out of his arm, it was starting to throb. The smoke began to form a shape… it looked like a little girl… it looked like his friend, yet somehow more beautiful and captivating.

“You called and I have answered,” the apparition whispered.

“What?” Belor managed to croak.

“My name is Moira, you wanted to ask me that yesterday, did you not?”

“You are the girl I played with yesterday?” Belor asked in shock.

“Yes,” she whispered, her voice devoid of all emotion.  

“Are you a ghost?” Belor asked, his voice shaking.

“No,” replied the girl.

“Then what are you? Why do you look like this?” Belor asked. Inside, he knew that whatever she said, his life was never ever going to be the same.