The Mailie Outcasts

Hey guys if your looking at this please read my story hopefully it will become a novel I don't want to give anything away so I will only tell you this:
Marie is a fourteen year old girl living on the streets of an ancient town.
Please read and like it would mean a lot to me :)
Ps this is completely fake and mine!!!


1. Chapter One

The cobbled stones were dry and cracked, crumbling beneath Marie as she crouched behind a stall. She estimated there to be around sixty stalls all lined up in rows splitting the normally massive square into multiple aisles. Marie could hear the endless chant of people as they danced around to the pounding of drums. The smell of meat wafted around the town square. It was Marie’s least favourite time of the year; the mid-autumn meat festival. It lasted for two weeks and was a time when everyone’s diet consisted of meat, apples, cheese, bread and ale. It was an incredibly hard time for an orphan to survive, let alone an orphan with an aversion to meat, no money and an old dry well for a home.


Fiddling with the handles on her satchel, Marie stayed as silent and as still as humanly possible as she waited for Buster. A smile crept onto her lips. Buster, her ninety kilogram wolfhound, was the funniest dog she had ever met. She could remember the many times she and Buster had argued over his name. Marie thought that ‘Buster’ was ridiculous and childish pet’s namebut he had wanted to keep it to remind him of the days when he served the Peacekeepers, before he had run away that is. Marie peered around the corner looking for Buster, hoping that his distraction would be a bit more creative than the last time when he had tried to play fetch with the crowd but no one would pick up the slobbered toy.


Dozens of families ambled past, pausing to peer at stalls and calm their children. As much as Marie wanted a family of her own, one that would feed her, care for her and love her, she hated the fact that they were all so protective, so easily ashamed and unwilling to share with the less fortunate. From where she was crouched, Marie could see the stall holders flaunting their profits.


Slowly, the cart full of apples, bread and cheese crawled into the square, the horses whinnying in exhaustion. This was her last chance. If Marie didn’t get enough food to last her the remainder of the festival, she would surely starve. Carefully, she crept out from behind the stall and slunk back into the darkness of the empty alleyways. She knew the streets of Barremaire better than the Peacekeepers did. Keeping to the alleys, Marie made her way around the square until she finally emerged right behind the cart. From there she could see the dancers twirling around in time with the beat. Behind them stood the musicians who every year had managed to uphold tradition and use only instruments made entirely of animals. Marie saw drums, harps and even a flute. It sickened her they could be so cruel to the poor animals that were chopped up into various unnecessary implements. Revolted, she shook her head clear of the thought and turned back to the task at hand.


All she needed now was the distraction. Marie waited, and waited. The feeling of anticipation was quickly replaced with fear. Panic ran through Marie’s body; Buster was gone. He had never let her down before. All Marie could do was hope that he hadn’t tried to steal meat from a stall. She couldn’t bear the thought of Buster locked up in those dark, decaying cages or worse, taken away from her permanently. Desperately trying to calm her nerves, she pulled herself together and crept behind the cart. Carefully, Marie reached out to the food.

“Behind you!” screeched the desperate chirp of a bird.

Her breath caught in her lungs as she spun round to see one of the Peacekeepers in their crisp brown uniform raise his whistle to his lips. The sound pierced the bustle of the crowd, stopping everyone in their tracks. The Peacekeeper dropped his hunting dog’s leash. With nothing else she could do, Marie sprinted off in the opposite direction as fast as her legs could carry her. She didn’t stop running until she broke out of the ring of houses that marked the perimeter of the town.



Behind her stood the dirty, smelly town of Barremaire, full of meat and an angry relentless Peacekeeper with his hunting dog. In front of her was the dark forest. The old legends told stories of disobedient children wandering off into the misty, gloomy trees and never coming out. The dog bounded out of the town behind her.

“Stop!” she called sternly in the ancient wolf language.

It shocked the dog so much that it did stop. Few animals knew of Marie’s strange but useful ability, and even fewer people knew. Those who did had shunned her and still would if they knew she was alive.

“Attack you useless mongrel!” growled thePeacekeeper as he puffed down the street. It prepared to pounce. Marie sprinted off into the darkness, and nobody followed.


The trees loomed over Marie. The autumn leaves that covered the ground muffled her footsteps. Her ragged breath was the only thing she could hear. She ran and ran until she could run no further where she slowed down to a walk. The deafening crack of a branch caused Marie to yelp. From fear or pain she did not know as the snapped branch lay broken beneath her barefoot. Struggling to keep a clear head she continued. The trees thickened, the light lessened. The deeper into the forest Marie went, the darker it became. Another deafening crack echoed through the woods but this time it wasn’t her. Terrified, she broke into a sprint, dodging through the branches that threatened to jump out and knock her unconscious at any moment.


Seemingly out of nowhere, the forest opened up into a large clearing. There were fourteen trees, all standing taller than the others. Unlike the rest of the forest, the clearing remained green and fresh. The forest floor was covered in soft, green grass, speckled with sunlight peeking through the thick foliage. It smelt fresh and woody. Marie counted seven tree houses, high up in the canopy, the leaves encasing them in a soft green glow. One lonesome tree stood alone in the corner. Dozens of ropes and ladders were strung across the clearing, connecting the trees. In the centre of the clearing there lay the remains of a well-used fire, its dying embers emitting only a small amount of warmth. The only sound came from the rustling of leaves, though there wasn’t even the slightest trace of wind. The clearing was deserted.


Marie nimbly stepped forward towards the closest tree. Searching for a hidden rope, she circled the tree poking her fingers in every notch and crevice for a way up. Marie’s ears pricked up at the twang of a bow. The arrow pinned her sleeve to the tree trunk. She yanked it out, leaving a gaping hole in her jacket. Slowly she turned around to face her attacker. A tall, tanned, dark haired and surprisingly muscular boy appeared out of the tree in the centre of the clearing.

“Hello Marie,” whispered a voice inside her head, “Do you know where we are?”

Marie was frozen in place, gaping at the boy.

“Yes, I can read minds,” said the boy aloud, answering the question that was swimming around Marie’s head. “My name is Jake, and if you didn’t already know, we are in the clearing of Trilla: the Outcast’s hideout. Obviously many of the Outcasts have not yet arrived,” he said, gesturing the empty trees behind him. “But my point is this is a sacred place for those blessed with the Mailie knowledge and powers. I am not sure how you found this place but seeing as you are not one of our Outcasts I am now going to have to ask you to leave.”

“What do you mean I’m not an Outcast?” asked Marie.

“Well for one you’re a girl,” he numbly stated.

“But I can talk to…”

Jake’s sharp intake of breath cut her of.

“What?” she asked irritably.

“I…I’m reading Claire’s mind,” he mumbled.

“Who is Claire?” Marie interrupted, anger coursing through her veins.

“My sister, she and the others went to Barremaire to get us more food, but…they were caught,” Jake said, “I have to go find them.”

“You just said there are no girls here, who is Claire?" He glared at her. "Take me back to town with you, I can help. I know the streets, I’ve lived on them for years,” she begged as a plan to escape the forest hatched in her mind.

Jake studied her quizzically whilst reading her thoughts, deciding whether or not to trust her.

“Fine, but hurry,” he reluctantly agreed, beckoning her forward as he dashed of into the trees completely ignoring Marie’s questioning about Claire.


With Marie leading the way, the two of them crept down a dark alleyway that led straight into the town square. From there they could see a crowd gathered around a group of children. The music had stopped and the dancers had cleared the area. The usual peaceful atmosphere had slipped into one of anger, boredom and curiosity. The head of the Peacekeepers stood in front of the children who were all bowed down on their knees, and they did not look happy about it. Marie’s eyes widened at the sight of Buster and another smaller female dog tied to a cart beside a fat, old Peacekeeper. The man began pacing along the line of children.

“Now vich ‘un of dese scally-wags is goin’ t’ tell me ‘oos dog dis is,” he rumbled in a deep and threatening voice, hardly managing to pronounce his words through his thick accent. “’Tis it yours?” he asked as he flicked an exact female version of Jake.

“How dare he!” exclaimed Jake.

“Hush,” whispered Marie, pushing him back into the shadows.

Suddenly a Peacekeeper grabbed Marie and Jake from behind and dragged them out into the square. Any thought of laying low in her well for as long as she could, hiding from the Peacekeepers was diminished as he roughly shoved them to their knees. As he did so Marie recognised the man as the Peacekeeper who had chased her out of town.

“Well done Mauvrick,” said the head Peacekeeper, nodding towards his colleague.


Desperately trying to think of a way out of this situation, Marie saw Fredrick (a white mouse whom she had once saved from a winter), scamper towards her. Quickly she began hissing instructions under her breath to the mouse. Frederick gave her a nod of understanding before dashing off.

“What are you doing?” whispered Jake.

“Talking to a mouse.” she replied smugly.

A look of shock flashed across Jake’s face as he made the connection.

“Whatchoo be smilin’ ‘bout missy?” growled the head Peacekeeper.

That was the exact moment when all hell broke loose. Dozens of mice including Fredrick began gnawing furiously at the rope holding the two dogs down. Birds flew through the air, swooping, pecking, scratching and dropping their business all over the crowd.Vermin clawed the legs of the fat Peacekeeper and Mauvrick’s own wolf hound began attacking him. The children tore through the streets towards the forest. When Buster and the other dog were free the animals followed, quickly catching up. The crowd became an angry mob and chased after the Outcasts. As they reached the trees, the children paused waiting to see if the mob would follow.

“You brats ‘ad best come back ‘ere right now,” said the Peacekeeper as he took a tentative step forward.

One of the birds pecked the fat man’s bald head causing him to fall to the ground whimpering. Slowly the children dispersed into the trees and headed towards the clearing.


The fresh and woody smell that hung in the clearing of Trilla welcomed Marie as she wandered back into it. There waiting for her was all of the other nine Outcasts. Buster walked up behind her and nuzzled her palm.

“I’m sorry about before. I saw Shelby in trouble and tried to help but the Peacekeepers and their many wolfhounds over powered me,” he said before going and lying at the trunk of a tree next to the other dog, whom she presumed was Shelby. As Marie turned back to the other children she realised that all of them except Jake were kneeling down in front of her in a bow.

“We are in your debt Marie, animal tamer, speaker of all languages, the tenth and first female member of the Mailie Outcasts,” said Jake, and then he too bowed down before her.






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