It always starts with misfortune. I wonder why that is. Any story, if it has to be listened to, starts with a conflict. It's more interesting that way, I suppose. Humans like to hear about other people's tribulations. They take comfort in knowing that they are not alone in their misery. And that is why, I shall start, not from the beginning, but however I see fit. It makes more sense that way, trust me.

THREE DAYS TO THE NEW MOON, AT THE SUMMIT OF RAVEN'S HILL

I've always loved the dark, even as a child. If you ask me, it is still the one thing I love most. I hope she doesn't find out, she might get annoyed. I love the dark more than I do her. Why do I tell you all of this? Simply because we stand now at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the vast cavern below. The setting sun bathes us in golden light. The air smells of freedom, tangible enough to taste. Moments like these are rare. They're made for proclamations of love. Only, I didn't know how to begin.

"Do you remember when I pushed you down the hill, Kyra?" I asked.

I felt her slide up behind me, her arms embracing my neck. This was true happiness - being with the one you loved, with no fear of being killed, if you were caught. I leaned into the embrace. Her mouth inched close to my ear and whispered, "How dare you bring that up."

She spoke so low I was sure I misheard. I turned to face her. Her eyes were feral. Her fingers delicately slipped to my throat and began to clench. My nails clawed at her skin, leaving fiery crescents which she ignored.

"K-Ky-"

I could see her eyes beginning to blur, as my lungs burned for air, trying to free themselves from my ribcage. This was just a silly quarrel wasn't it? Surely she wouldn't - No. I was drowning in the murky green orbs, tears obscuring my sight. I - couldn't - breathe - any - mo -

And then I could -

I massaged my throat, gulping air like water on a summer afternoon, all the while looking for the answer to the mystery. I crawled away from the edge. It didn't seem all that appealing now. That was when I heard the sound of rocks clattering down the path. I saw Kyra disappear behind a boulder. I could barely move. I needed to hide, and quickly. I pleaded with the stars. Please, let it not be someone from the village. Somebody else. Anybody else.

"Where do you think you're going?"

The answer was obvious. The cliff was one of the only two ways to get out of the village. And Ocean, of all people, should have known where it led.

"It's only you." I hoped the relief in my voice wasn't too apparent.

Ocean wasn't from this place. He was a drifter. I thanked the Dogstar. If it had been one of the village boys, I don't know what would have happened. I'd rather have died by Kyra's hand than face them. He -

"Answer me."

"I -"

"You're running away, aren't you?"

The anger in his tone seemed unjustified. But how did he know? Was he in love with -? No, it couldn't be -

"Well, no -"

"Don't lie to me. I know what's been going on."

My eyes darted to where Kyra was hiding. Ocean followed the direction of my glance. He didn't see her.

"I'm disappointed in you."

"You're one to talk," I said, without heat. "You can't even stay in a single place for more than a month without leaving." 

As long as he didn't know Kyra was here, I was prepared to let him talk in circles.

"That's different. And I don't think you have what it takes to survive alone. You'll be back, crying for mum in a couple of days."

Why was he talking to me like this? This was a side of Ocean I didn't even know existed. I turned my head away.

"I thought you were someone I could respect, and maybe even more. You're a coward, just like - "

I'd had enough of his talk.

"Get lost. Go away. That's what you do best isn't it? Why don't you do that now? I'll mind my own business I'll run away if I want to, and you're no one to go stop me from doing it."

He glowered at me. After what seemed like minutes, he turned on his heel and was gone. I sat there till the sun went down. Kyra straggled out of her hiding place, shaking leaves from her long curls. I reached out to help her, our quarrel forgotten.

"What are we going to do?" she asked. "What if he tells on us?"

"He won't. And even if he does, it won't matter. I'm not running away."

"Just because he told you that you can't survive out on your own doesn't mean you should believe him."

"That's not it."

"Then what is it? What is the matter with you?"

"I don't think I should leave my mum alone with that - that -"

"All this while you didn't think of that, and now suddenly, he turns up and you do?"

I couldn't decide if she was angry at the change of plans or jealous. It seemed to be the least of my problems, except for the fact that her harping wasn't letting me think clearly. I didn't think she would be okay with what I had in mind. Though I knew she'd come around eventually. I hoped.

"I'm going."

She didn't move. I didn't expect her to. The long climb down the mountain seemed twice as hard without her beside me. The cold found all my sores and blisters and made them ache twice as bad. I knew I couldn't stop now. Some things just had to be done. Even if it was as drastic as murder.

CHAPTER 1

The sun beat down on me as I trudged through the grass. The sweat and the heat combined made my head feel dull and heavy. Thorns pulled at the fabric of my pants, and at my skin through holes which I hadn't patched up. I gulped in air, choking on the dust that gathered at the back of my throat.

"Want some company?"

I turned around to find Kyra smiling at me. She had a parasol over her head. I shook my head when she made a motion to share it with me.

"I don't want to spill any of this on you," I said, ashamed of the water skins strung over my shoulder.

She walked a couple of steps ahead of me, maintaining a flow of chatter all the while. It was strangely comforting. I watched the soft whiteness of her frock billowing in the wind. I couldn't help that stab of anger. I couldn't. The headman's daughter could afford to wear such frivolity.

My own tattered clothes reminded me that I worked for a living. It was hard, dreary work, for my mother would never dream of letting me enter her profession. That was a good thing, for I really did not share her taste for men.

"What's the matter?"

Lost in thought, I hadn't notice that we'd stopped.

"Just resting for a while."

We carried on, her hand holding mine. My cheeks were warm. From the corner of my eye, I could see her pleased half-smile. We rarely got a chance like this, though we tried to meet as often as we could. It felt nice. At times, I could even feel her at the back of my mind, always there, even when I couldn't see her.

I barely felt the weight of the skins, though my shoulders were blistered, the rough cloth rubbing against them. I probably wouldn't be able to sleep from the pain. I didn't care. I'd bear it, if the alternative meant not feeling this tingling deep in my bones.

"Let's go away somewhere," I said, ignoring the sudden tension in her air.

"Where can we possibly go that they wouldn't follow?" she jerked her chin forward, parasol wobbling on her shoulder.

The sight of the village brought me back to my senses. I slipped my fingers out of their entwined embrace.

“North," I whispered.

"Anessa. You know we aren't supposed to talk about that," she said, suddenly uncomfortable.

"What if the stories aren't true? What if they're there just to stop us from going?"

"I'm sure there's a good reason." Her eyes turned frosty.

"But no one would -"

She squeezed my hand abruptly. An old woman stared at us strangely, and made the sign of warding off the evil eye. Kyra spluttered in indignation.

"How could they treat you like this?"

"I'm used to it. Don't say anything. I'll go now. Mum must be expecting me."

I watched her walk down the road towards the square. I resettled the load on my shoulder. The cottage where my mother and I lived was on the other side of the village, a short way away from here. For a person who wasn't allowed within the village boundaries, who had to make her way through the woods, it would take three quarters of an hour. At the least, it would get me out of the sun's direct gaze.

This was the cluster of cottages where the entertainers lived. At first, it was just a couple of us. After the famine, our family had expanded to include a surprising number of people, some of them who previously would have nothing to do with us.

"She's got company, your mum."

This was from one of the ladies I'd brought water for. She paid me for it, enough to help us with the rent.

In that case, my presence inside the house would certainly not be appreciated. I settled myself in the shade of the trees. It was comfortable as long as one didn't mind the damp. I opened one eye at the sound of the door creaking and saw money changing hands.

"So, Ronnie, I'll see you again tomorrow?"

It was the one of the village boys, barely a couple of years older than I was. My mother hesitated.

"I don't think so, sir. I'll have a visitor coming."

His voice was sharp. "Visitor?"

"She's a sort of cousin."

His stance relaxed. "I'll see you again when she leaves."

He walked past me, ignoring me completely.

"You're late." My mother sounded annoyed.

She rarely was so with me. I never gave her reason to be.

"It's a long walk, and you were busy when I got here."

Her tic made its appearance. She really was annoyed.

"I got a letter this morning."

I didn't know my mother could read. That wasn't what bothered me. It was the fact that she wouldn't look at me.

"I need you to go to the railway station. There's someone coming. Borrow the trap from Master Roger."

He was the man who owned the cottages around this area, as well as the women who lived in them.

"It's barely a mile away. I don't think well need -"

"Just do as I say!" she snapped. In a quieter tone, she added, "It's the other station."

A chill ran up my spine. Only one sort of train stopped at that station. The train from the North.

“Elda?" I whispered.

"Shh. Go on, the train will be there soon. Wait till you get out of Master's sight, and then hurry on, or you won't be in time for it."

I wondered who it was that I'd be fetching today. And why in the world would we have a visitor from that place? With mum in this mood though, it would be useless to ask.

The fastest the pony could manage was a sharp trot, so it was quite a while before I reached. I saw no sign of a train, from the North or otherwise. The harried Master of the Station poked his head out of the office.

"Are you sent for a Lady Hilda?" He sounded annoyed.

What would people like us have to do with fine ladies? Did I look like I was sent to fetch nobility?

"I don't know, sir. I don't think so. It's someone from the village, perhaps."

"You're the only one here. So you must take her."

I didn't quite follow his logic, but he sounded desperate. He grabbed my hand and pulled me down from the trap. The pony objected to my pulling his reins by tossing his head into the air.

"But sir, I need to fetch someone from the North." I lowered my voice at the last word.

"Well, she's from that place right enough, and she's arrived ahead of the train. Do as you're told."

"There must be some mistake! I-"

His fingers dug into my flesh as I staggered into the office behind him. The woman who stared back at me gave me chills. She was simply beautiful. That wasn't what scared me. It was her eyes. Pearly white with just a tinge of gray, they looked like something out of a nightmare.

"Anessa, I suppose?" She took my silence as an affirmation and continued, "You're late. Horribly late."

"The pony has a mind of his own, Ma'am."

Her lip curled up into a sneer. My insides felt like tangled ropes, or worse, writhing worms, making me feel sick.

"I don't like excuses."

She stared at me for another minute. Her eyes darted to the Master's. I felt as if I'd put down a heavy load.

"Are you going to stand there like an oaf? Get my luggage."

"Y-yes Ma'am."

Her eyes found mine again.

"So this is how Veronica's raised you. A country bumpkin. Though you don't talk like one, I can't really say anything much, can I? She's only a dirty prostitute after all."

I felt hot anger rise within me, but I couldn't bring myself to say anything. It was right there, the heat; though a bank of fog separated me from it.

"Your conveyance is ready, Ma'am."

The voice of the Master broke the spell. I found that I could move. I hadn't realized that till then, I'd been frozen to one spot. I also found that I was working myself up to a rage.

"You have no right to talk about my mother like that."

"Interesting." Her tone made my skin crawl. "So you say that your mother doesn't sleep with men for money?"

I was silent. That much was true. "It puts bread in the hearth, and a roof over our heads."

"If it were me, I'd rather starve."

Her lip curled up again. If my fingers would but cooperate, I'd have scratched the eyes from out her head.

She rose out of her chair, gracefully shaking out the fabric of her silk robe. With one long scarlet nail, she dug into my shoulder, rupturing a blister. I whimpered, hating myself for showing weakness.

"To the vehicle, shall we?"

She handed the Master a gold coin, a sum enough to pay half a year's worth of rent. His eyes were as wide as cart wheels.

"I don't see why I would ever come to such a backward place."

"No Ma'am."

"And you've never heard of me, have you?"

"No Ma'am and I haven't seen you either."

She looked away from him, as if he were insignificant enough for her to have forgotten his presence already. Her eyes surveyed the trap with a look of disgust.

"What is that?"

"The pony trap." I enjoyed her horrified look.

"Get me another conveyance at once!"

"There ain't another to be had. I'm not allowed to set foot in the village."

She replied with a dignified swish of her sleeve.

"If you don't like it, you can walk. It's seven miles to the village."

I could feel her eyes pale with rage. Turning my back on her, I enjoyed my little victory. I could feel a smile pulling at my cheeks as I watched her trying to get into the cart without dirtying her skirts. By the time she sat next to me, the hems were coated in a thick layer of unidentified muck, and her face, in a permanent scowl.

I've never regretted anything in my life as much as this. As I climbed down Ravens Cliff, those eyes possessed my mind, filling it with hatred. If anyone could inspire me with a desire for blood, it was her.

"You're not my mother," I raged.

She stared at me above the rim of her teacup. It was as if I was talking to a wall. It made no difference. I couldn't change the truth.

"Nessie. You're going with her. No more arguments. You were always hers to begin with," said the woman who I once had thought gave birth to me.

"Listen to the whore, she's right."

"What did you call her?"

My mum restrained me.

"Milady, she'll be all packed up and ready to go in time for the next train."

"See that she is."

With a smirk, she sailed out of the room, leaving me to argue all night with Veronica. I had to get used to calling her that. The end result of it was that I slipped out after she was asleep. I had to do something. Soon. I couldn't let Kyra get hurt. We were running, once and for all. Raven's Hill it would be, whether she was ready or not.

I wonder.

I wonder how it is

That you

So easily get under my skin.

You make me thirst for your touch

So much so

That I'd wrench every cell

Right off this layer of skin

Inch by inch

Nails digging into flesh

And get to where you're hidden

Somewhere

Where I can't see you

Yet,

I know you're there

Always waiting,

Always.

I know it isn't your name that runs in my blood

No, that's someone else

And you hate that.

You can't let go of me

Any less than I can.

You're trapped there,

Imprisoned.

Right under the surface

Where you can dimly see

A way of escape

But you can never leave.

That's what she thinks.

She doesn't know I have a trick up my sleeve.

I can make her writhe and twist in her dreams

Itch and throb when she's awake

Make her claw at her arms, her legs

Anything,

Anything to let me out

And end her misery.

I know how to do this.

Done this a lot of times before

I'm the kind of person you can't forget easily.

You can't just bury me in your subconscious

And hope I live out a miserable life

Like one of your repressed childhood memories.

Oh no, no siree, no.

I am lust.

I am death.

And I will reign supreme..

Three days to the new moon, at the summit of Ravenhill

"Do you remember the time I pushed you down the hill, Kyra?" I asked the one person I loved most in this world.

I barely felt her fingers steal around my neck. The tingles it sent down my spine turned into shivers of terror. Her hands were a vise, forcing my spirit out of my body. I raked her fingers with my nails, blunted by hard work, and unable to make a difference. My lungs protested. For so long they had taken the sweet air they breathed for granted, and now, their drug was cut off completely.

The roaring in my ears ceased abruptly, as she let go. I massaged my neck and watched her crouch behind a pile of rocks in disbelief. A general scrabbling in the direction of the path drew my attention.

"Anessa!" The voice was male, gruff and surprisingly familiar..

I didn't want to run in to any of the village residents, not now, especially when I was so close to freedom.

"Anessa, I know you're there," he said.

Piercing blue eyes stared into mine. Ocean, the wanderer. So not one of the villagers then.

"You coward," he whispered,

"Running away isn't going to solve any of your problems."

"You're one to talk," I said, "Show me a place where you've stayed and faced yours."

"Right there." He pointed down at the village.

"In all my wanderings, I found only one place worth giving up my freedom for; one person for whom I was prepared to go through anything for. You. And now you've shown me how wrong I was." 

I couldn't summon up anything other than a strong sense of incredulity.

"Well, you're free to leave. No one's stopping you," I said.

He laughed - not a very pretty sound. It held more mockery than mirth. 

"I don't think you have the courage to leave. You don't have what it takes to survive here. You're a sheltered lass, and that's what you'll always be."

"I don't think I need to prove anything to you."

"Then there's no more to be said, is there? I'll be on my way then."

With a smile that did not reach his eyes, and a great deal of scraping and scrabbling, he  descended down the path.

A movement at the corner of my eye caught my attention. Kyra crept out from behind her hiding place. I put my hands up in surrender. 

"I know, I promised not to speak of this anymore. I'm sorry. It just slipped out!"

As you just saw, being pushed down the hill in the days of our childhood was a very sore spot for Ky, one that I'd vowed not to needle. She showed her displeasure in unkind, often cruel ways, but I didn't mind. When you love someone, that is what you tend to do, especially when you are on the verge of eloping with them.

"How many days from here?" Was all she asked, in a calm, even voice. Moving as slowly as possible, I put my hands down and cleared my throat.

The north has always been a forbidden subject. None of us talk about it. The adults always locked us away into tiny, dark places if we questioned them. The children came up with wild stories, some wildly improbable, some of them outright ridiculous, but in the face of nothing, even nonsense is enough of a creed to have faith in. And so, a mythology evolved, a body of tales, songs, codes and gestures, to be told in secret, unknown to those who could reprimand us, and so it was instilled into us. We never talked about the north. Not openly, in broad daylight.

"Well?" She asked. 

"I don't know. Anyway, I was thinking..."

"What were you thinking? Were you swayed by that bumbling idiot who came up here with those silly words of his to sway you? Do you love him? You want to go with him instead, is that it?"

I could see her hands morph into claws again.

"No, no. You're the only one I love. Of course I'm not going away with him. Why would I? He and I are not meant to be. The thing is..."

"What is it? Out with it. Now."

"I'd like to go back home."

"Are you crazy?"

"I think so. How does that have anything to do with this?"

I saw her eyes change colour. Not the right time. Alright. I put my hands up in a placating gesture.

"I just wanted to say goodbye."

"To whom?" she demanded suspiciously. 

"Mum. I didn't tell her I was going away."

"That's what running away means, you illiterate fool." 

"She may just be an entertainment woman, but her time's much better spent in earning her bread than worrying about me."

"No. We're leaving."

"I'm going home." I was stubborn on that point.

"I'll take you, either living or dead. Watch me if I don't." 

Looking at her expression, I knew that my time had come.

As I sit

Underneath a sky

Crisscrossed by twinkling lights,

I thirst

For your scent.

In that warm glow

Left by the burning moon

I bleed with passion.

Alone.

I howl my miseries to the wind

Till a shiver

Crawls up their spines,

And they come

In hordes

To hunt the wolf,

Not knowing

That it is I,

Who hunts them.

They knock and crash against trees

They snap twigs

Ungainly mortals

Who do not know the art

Of the predator.

Silently,

I slink through the shadows

The moon aiding me,

By flitting behind the clouds,

Deepening the darkness,

Enhancing their fear.

A sister howls,

Echoing my raging soul

And they stop,

Frozen in time.

I step out of the shadows.

No more hiding now.

We look each other

In the eye.

A flash of white is all they see

before my coat

Is stained red

With the weight of their sins

Now washed away

By the cooling rain.

Solace.

I know I'll have to pay

For this

With my life.

It was worth it, love.

All that burning rage gone,

I am filled with emptiness,

And I will mourn

And mourn again

Singing eerie lullabies

To the sleeping moon.