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Sister Dearest.
The orchard trees swayed gently in the cool winds of spring. The sky above was a brilliant blue, and there wasn’t a cloud in sight to obstruct its glorious reign. Children ran up and down the columns of apple trees, laughing and screaming with delight at their simple game. Em lay in the shade of one of the taller apple trees, looking on as the children played. Several trees away from him, was a young woman with silky chestnut colored hair, dressed in a red dress with a white linen shawl over her shoulders.
A group of children was sitting around her giggling while she prodded apples so that they would perform various tricks. Em chuckled as the apple she had just picked sprouted wings and flew away with a flock of birds flying overhead. He followed its progress until it flew out of sight over the tree he lay under. Em's gaze then focused through the tree, admiring the different arrays of light that passed through the tree's leaves. Em was smiling broadly. Never, in his entire life, had he been so happy.
Em looked back to the group of children who were cheering on the young women as she juggled apples, which seemed to duplicate on each pass. The woman stumbled back dramatically as the apples increased in number. She swayed left then right, then finally fell backwards, the apples raining down with her. Right on cue, the children broke out into a hysterical fit of laughter, Em with them. The laughing subsided rather suddenly though.
Em jerked toward the children, who were being shoed away by a pair of men dressed in black robes with grey cowls covering their faces. Em could not explain why, but he was suddenly overcome with a sickening feeling. The pair approached the young women with a hurried pace. The women, who had by this time been preparing yet another trick with the apples, met them with a startled gasp. Em's stomach lurched. Something was amiss.
For minutes the three conversed, The girl shaking her head slowly at times and looking as if she wanted to strike the pair at other times. Em could not help but notice a heavy breath behind him; Slowly, he looked up, and sure enough there was a man dressed in a black tunic and white linen pants. His hands were behind his back and he was smiling innocently down at Em. There were three large scars on the left side of his face. Em opened his mouth as if to question him, but he was interrupted by a shrill shriek.
Em snapped back to the young women. She was wriggling in an attempt to free her arm from one of the cloaked men. The man who was not holding the girl produced a dagger from his cloak. Em stood up, looking around in a panic. The man behind him placed a giant hand on his shoulder, pinning him to the spot. Em looked back at the man pleadingly, But he simply continued his innocent smile kneeling down so that he and Em were face to face. He whispered something in Em's ear, But the words could not be processed, Em's entire being was focused on wrenching away from the man so that he might aid the young women. But it was too late, Em went limp with horror.
The dagger plunged straight into the women's chest. Then, the whispering wind hushed, and all became still. It was almost as if time froze. The orchard was her audience now and it fell silent for her final act. Resuming her magic act, She fixed a sweet smile on her face and fell to the floor. A tear ran down Em's cheek. He screamed something at the top of his lungs, but his efforts were in vain. The man behind him quickly stifled him, placing his monstrous hand over Em's mouth. Em yelled again, The women’s name barely escaping the man's hand. Again, this time with all the strength he could muster, Em called out
"SISTER SARAH!" holding the final syllable till his chest could support him no longer.
But, by the time he had finished his scream the orchard was gone. Em's eyes shot open and darted around instinctively. The orchard was gone, and with it the vice like hold of the frightening man. He was now under the covers of a warm feather bed, lined with the softest sheets he had ever come across. Instantly the dream was forgotten, and an overwhelming feeling of ease took hold of him.
Sadly his ease was soon erased and in its place came an unnerving feeling. Surrounding his bed was at least three dozen men. Each sporting an array of heavy battle armor, each with his sword drawn menacingly above his head. The swordsmen slowly lowered their weapons, two or three shifting in his place uneasily.
[I put the collaborative from whence this came on hold a few months ago, so i could polish my grammar and my vocabulary. The collaborative will remain on hold until ive finished my next collaborative ( which will take on similar elements of this collaborative)] [This is one of my latest edits.]
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