The Fallen Being Chronicle(s)- The Forgotten Past

Cale awakens from a long, arduous slumber with no recollection of who he is or how he ended up in the middle of a forest crippled with injuries. Cale discovers that he can perform powerful magic, which is a forbidden act on Tuereras, punishable by death. However, the only way to rediscover his identity is to run to the people who would kill him if they found out who he really was. He soon embarks on a journey to discover his past, upon which he comes into contact with dark magicians, ashamed royalty and even Death himself. When he finds out that his existance is set to start a huge war, he is given the choice: save the ones he loves or save the rest of the world.
Cale must pick a side.The clock is ticking...
I haven't ever written a movella before and I would appreciate it if people could read this and comment and to any of those who do read it, I'm sorry that it's a bit boring, but I hope it will improve as I get further into the plot
Thanks

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3. The Girl

The Girl

         

                Cale’s sleep was a rather bumpy ride, full of nightmares and purple, deoxygenated faces, but the sleep that followed was comfortable to say the least. Warmth filled his body and he felt fresher and cleaner. He had been washed and had on a new change of clothes. Cale knew that he must be lying upon a bed, for the mattress beneath him seemed springy and seemed to mould to the form of his body. The aching in his body seemed less prominent than before but his neck was sore now, from when the thugs tried to strangle him. This recollection reminded him of the boy and the stallion, which seemed like a dream from so long ago, which maybe it was, but his being here, and his being here alive, was plenty enough for Cale to give the mysterious boy his gratitude.

            Cale sighed and relaxed a little into his crisp, clean sheets, he wished to sleep in hope that he might recall some memories, but also so as to escape reality, but the harder he tried the quicker he failed and in the end he discarded the idea and surveyed the room about him.

            The room was rather plain, with wooden panelled walls, a bedside table, a wardrobe, a mirror, a window and the bed he was laying on. On the table beside him lay a jug of water, a glass and a plate of food with cutlery. However, out of suspicion, Cale left the food and drink untouched, not trusting that they hadn’t been tampered with, he might still be at the mercy of the thugs. He sat still and listened for a while but heard nothing. Quietly, Cale lifted his sheets and slid out of bed, his feet felt unstable on the cold floor, but he pushed himself up onto his feet.

            He was just in a plain white top and bottoms, inappropriate for day wear as they were to loose and were poor in the way of insulation. He was therefore relieved to find a change of clothes at the foot of his bed. He quickly changed into a grey tee shirt, baggy brown bottoms and black leather boots.

            Cale stared at his reflection in the mirror; glad that his skin had regained its colour. His short blonde hair was twigless once again, which not only looked better, but felt better too, as his hair no longer seemed to be tugging on his scalp. There were slight shadows beneath his blue eyes, reflecting his weariness from his latest experiences. The youth sighed and combed his hair with his fingers before shaking it out again and flattening it down.

            Unable to see the view, he padded to his window and peered out, but was disappointed to just see a small dirt track and fields and forest beyond, the simplicity of it somewhat ruined by the fact that it was dark and rainy outside.

            After discovering the bedside table and wardrobe to be empty, the youth wandered over to the door and pressed his ear to it, but again he heard nothing. He sighed and looked about the room, when his eyes fell upon the knife; he walked over and picking it up, slid it into his pocket. It might be useful later.

            After walking out his unlocked door, Cale quietly made his way down the corridor to a small stairway which split in opposite directions, both bringing him round and down onto the ground floor. This new area seemed to be some sort of entrance hall with a counter under the stairs which had a small bell perched atop it. A door stood on either side of the room and there was a front door facing the counter. Behind the counter was another door which read ‘private’.

            There was nobody about so, stealthily, the youth made his way to the front door. His hand lightly touched the handle, twisted it; it opened easily. He had just raised his foot to step out when someone behind him spoke.

            “Trying to run away, are you?” the youth, suspecting the voice as danger and without thinking, flung his knife at the figure. As the blade slipped from his grasp, his wished it would fly back into his hand, as he viewed a beautiful, thin young woman, about his age, sat upon a small stool behind the counter, her chin resting upon her palm which she propped up upon the desk. She wasn’t a threat. Cale grimaced and eyes shut he heard it sink in. When he opened his eyes the girl was now stood behind the desk, arms crossed with looks that could easily murder. The knife was embedded in the wooden panelling behind her. How on earth had she moved out of the way so quickly?

            “What in heaven’s name do you think you are doing?” she growled.

            “Sorry I didn’t mean to-”

            “Arghh, you’ve destroyed the panelling!” she snarled, pulling the knife from the wood and rubbing a hand tenderly down the wall. That took him completely off guard. The panelling? Where had that come from? “Why are you throwing knives? Back off, I haven’t done anything to you!” There it was, the point which should have surely come first in the list.

            “Well if you were intending to leave, please do, before you put any other lives at risk.” She grumbled to herself. “I certainly won’t stop you.”

            The silence that followed was awkward, as if each was daring the other to act next. Cale twisted the handle. He was about to step out when he stopped in his tracks.

            “Though perhaps you should stay and heal, your wounds are pretty bad.” He felt the heat rise in his cheeks. They were, he had felt them and seen his bruised body in the mirror while he was dressing. Clearly most of them had occurred in his getting to the clearing, rather than from the thugs, but in her seeing the extent of his bruises, she must have… he didn’t wish to think about it, it was too embarrassing.

            “That’s right.” She smiled, raising her eyebrows; she had got one up on him. She looked him up and down, making him feel self-conscious, although there probably wasn’t much to hide.

            “That guy was a bit odd.” It made him pause and the girl noticed and grinned. A random comment, wasn’t it? The girl sensed his coming question. “The one that rescued you.” Ouch! That stung. Rescued? Was it a hint that she saw him incapable? Puny? A weakling?

            “What about him?” he asked through gritted teeth.

            “He was a bit odd.” She repeated.

            The youth’s patience was wearing thin. “So you’ve said.” He muttered, without much enthusiasm.

            “Yes. Well, he warned that you might try and make a run for it. But he also kept his hood up and didn’t even book a room for himself.”

            “The guy with the white stallion?” he asked, recalling the boy who ‘rescued’ him from the thugs.

            “That’s the one”.

            The silence was horrible to endure. Only a minute before he had tried to kill her and it was quite intimidating when she continued to glare at him, only making the atmosphere more uncomfortable.

            “Are you going to leave? I’d rather that my father’s guests weren’t murdered by a knife wielding lunatic.” She muttered, before storming through the ‘private’ door, which slammed shut in her absence. Her father? She was clearly the daughter of the man who ran this business, whatever it was.

            Cale opened the front door and walked a little way down the path that joined to the dirt track running past the building. He came to a halt and turned back towards the building. Over the door, hung by two chains attached to a metal spoke, was a sign swinging in the wind, which read: “Jon and daughter’s- drop in n’ go”. Oh, so this was some kind of inn.

            ‘Well if they’re supposed to be providing my hospitality, why not? I’ve nowhere to go anyway. Besides, I’m sure that girl would be ecstatic if she found out that I was staying after all.’ With that, Cale walked back up the path to the inn, treading water and mud along the hallway with his already sodden boots, as he climbed the stairs to his room.

*

            The next morning the youth visited the dining area. He was famished and couldn’t recall the last time he had eaten, though he could recall very little of anything at all.

            Cale sat at a table in the corner which faced the bar and was also the perfect spot for viewing everybody coming in. He could see that the waitress, serving the few people in the restaurant at this time in the morning, was the girl which he had met the previous day. Cale sat their patiently for her to come and serve him.

            She was laughing with an old man near the middle, but when she turned away towards the bar she caught Cale’s eye, the smile dropped off her face and her whole body sagged. She stomped over and stood over him arms crossed, a frown upon her face.

            “What are you doing here?” she asked him, with exhaustion and disappointment emphasised in every word. “I thought you left yesterday. Though I supposed I should have guessed that you were the rude customer who had traipsed dirt all through our hallways, without caring to take their shoes off or clean up after themselves.”

            The youth just continued to smile his sweet smile. “Good morning” he replied cheerfully. “I trust you had a good sleep.” If it were possible, the girl just scowled harder.

            “Just hurry up and tell me what you want so I can go.” She said coldly. “Before you hang me up on the wall with a knife.” She muttered angrily to herself.

            “Yes well, I apologise again for yesterday, I was a bit skittish. Just get me whatever you like.” He smiled, handing her back the menu. She snatched it back and began scribbling down his order.

            “I’d like you to leave, but I know that you’d just let me down, so I’ll just order you the soup.” She snarled and strutted over to the bar. He had already made an enemy, but didn’t blame her, he’d be pretty angry if she’d thrown a knife at his face after he’d been kind to her.

            When she returned with his soup, he took it from her politely and asked if she needed to do something. “No.” She replied, in a voice that did more than hint that she wished she did have something to do.

            “Well, would you like to sit down so we can talk?” he asked politely.

            “No.” She repeated.

            The youth sighed. “I would be obliged if you would sit down and have a conversation with me.” She didn’t reply. “As your customer.” He added, gesturing to the seat opposite.

            She huffed heavily. “Fine.” She slid into the seat opposite.

            “Ok.” he quietly laughed a nervous laugh to himself. “I don’t know your name, let’s start with that.” he waited for her reply.

            “It’s Elliana.” She answered.

            “That’s a nice name.”

            “Thank you. So what’s yours?”

            “I’m Cale” he replied

            “Nice to meet you, Cale.” She replied, cautiously shaking his hand.

            “I apologise about yesterday. How can I make you understand how sorry I am? What can I do for you?” he pleaded with her.

            Elliana frowned a little then she thought of something and a smile crept onto her face. Cale didn’t know why she seemed so happy with the idea, but it must mean that he would regret asking her. “I know just the thing”

            Elliana took him outside after he had eaten his soup and after she had given him a brown suede jacket to protect him from the cold.

            “Oh! You’ve got to be joking.” He groaned, pinching his nose in disgust as he was hit by a strong stench of manure.

            “As if.” Elliana replied, pushing open the door to the stables. “You’ll find everything you need in the store cupboard. Have fun. I know I will be.”

            “Ha, ha, ha.” He muttered and she walked back to the inn. He walked into the stable, shutting the stable door behind him as he did so, keeping out the cold but locking in the awful stench of the horses. He sighed to himself before getting to work, wishing everything was going to soon be over.

*

            Cale was walking back up the path to the inn, wiping his hands manically down his now brown shirt, desperate for a bath. This time he remembered to take off his boots before he entered, though he supposed it wouldn’t make much of a difference, the state he was in.

            As he shut the door behind him, he heard Elliana speak. “So, how did it-” He turned and a face of shock, but delight, pasted itself over her face. “Wow! What where you doing, rolling in the manure? And, Urghh!” she pinched her nose and fanned the air in front of her face. “You smell worse than the horses!” she began to laugh uncontrollably at the sight of him.

            A grim smile etched itself on his face. “Ha-ha, yes. I personally don’t find it amusing. Are you satisfied now? Can you now forgive me?” Cale pleaded.

She stopped giggling and smiled at him. “Yes, I suppose. Now go get cleaned up and stay away from me for a while.”

            As the youth plodded along the corridor to his room, feeling like he would faint from his stench, he tripped on a rise in the carpet and took a tumble. Flailing his hands, Cale managed to grasp the mantelpiece along the wall, but in doing so, he knocked off a Ming Style vase which plummeted towards the floor. As time seemed to slow down, his eyes widened in shock and as he stabilised himself he flung out a hand as if to catch the vase, but to no avail. Cale wished, desperately, that it would fly back into his hand and if not, that the floor would swallow him so that he couldn’t see the look on Elliana’s face when she saw the remains of her old china.

            Just as he was about to eat himself alive from the inside, the vase changed direction and flew straight into his hand. He blinked and stared at his hand in shock. What just happened? He was certain that he was hallucinating, despite the fact that he could feel the chill of the vase start to seep into his hand. Had he, no of course not? This was just some sick joke. He hadn’t just used magic had he?

            Not wishing to stand there in the corridor any longer with a piece of precious china in his hands, Cale quickly replaced the vase and ran down the corridor to his room. He slammed the door shut behind him and turned to face the handle; time to try out his power. He willed the door to lock and in response to his thoughts, he heard a click. He couldn’t be sure though and he reached out a shaking hand and turned the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. Cale was sure that his mouth would drop off his face in shock.

            He stared at the window and willed the curtains to fly open. They obeyed his command and light flooded hid room. Cale imagined the window opening and it did so with a clunk, letting in clean air, fresh with the smell of the countryside. Cale thought it would be convenient if his bed would remake itself and watched as his sheets flattened and re-folded themselves, as if the ghost of a maid were obeying his command. He was in complete shock. He felt as if he had the world at his fingertips, as if he could do anything. However, he also felt relief, for as well as his name, he may have finally found a link to his past.

 

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