Authors note: I'm going to write more soon, but seeing as this is a novel in the makings, many things will be changing. I've just recently re-worked this chapter to make the ending more suspenseful. I'll try to be writing more soon, so keep an open eye!

Nira walked through the rain, her bare feet squelching in the mud. Her long brown, wet hair streamed down her back as she followed the young man. She walked down the dirty village streets, being careful to stay close behind him. He paused suddenly and glanced behind him. Nira drew a sharp breath and ducked behind a building. When she peeked around it there was no sign of him anywhere. She cursed under her breath. She’d lost him.
She’d first seen him in The Sea Pony tavern. She often visited that place, be it for travelers stories or a warm mug of ale. She loved the tavern; the silly old Sea pony, hundreds of miles from the sea but still somehow a popular place for sailors to come.
She’d been curled up next to the fireplace, sipping a mug of ale and vaguely listening to Mad Murdock’s tale of The Giant Sea Monkeys and the Brave Sailor. She’d been nodding off when the door of the tavern opened suddenly and violently, letting in a gust of cold air. The cold air shocked her out of her warm and cozy frame of mind. She’d snapped at the newcomer to “Close the damn door” when she’d taken a closer look at the young man.
He was a definite stranger; she did not recognize him and Nira the woodcutters daughter knew everyone. He was very handsome, with short dark hair and keen blue eyes. Eyes so blue they seemed almost violet. Nira, who had names for everyone, promptly named him “The Violet Eyed Stranger”
He was very tall, and apparently he had a knack for blood curdling glares. He gave Nira such a glare before striding into the tavern. He had an imperious nature; his mouth formed a hard line and his face was devoid of emotion. His tall black boots strangely made no sound on the wood floor. He strode over to the inn keeper, Mrs. Bitterworth. Despite her name Mrs. Bitterworth was a kind and gentle woman. However her normal cheery face had vanished when the stranger entered her tavern. He whispered something to her that made her stiffen. She nodded coldly at him and led him upstairs to where the rooms were locating.
Nira had waited curiously until they came back down again. Some coins changed hands and The Violet Eyed Stranger had a room at The Sea Pony. He then ordered a mug of ale and headed for Nira’s table. Nira thought he meant to sit down and smiled at him. Instead he walked straight past Nira’s table, ignoring her smile. He brushed past her chair and Nira felt a chill penetrate her. She shivered and took a large gulp of ale. It took her a moment before she realized that the stranger had dropped something in her lap. It was a small piece of paper, folded expertly. Nira had a hard time trying to unfold it. She finally managed to unfold it without ripping it. It was a handwritten note, written in flawless script. Large flowing, elegant letters poured across the paper to form a message. Nira held it closer to the candle on the table; the sparse illumination in the tavern made it hard bto read things. She blinked a couple time then read the message.

Nira, this is for your eyes alone. You are in danger.

Nira rolled her eyes. What a foolish note, she thought to herself. She was just about to shove the note into her pocket when the letters began to move. Nira gasped and watched as the letter rearranged them selves. A few more letter appeared to fill in blank spaces until the note then read:

Your family will not survive. You can. The oracle will tell you all you need to know. There is no one to protect you.

The letters vanished again and were once more rearranged to form a new message. Nira drew in a sharp breath as she read the final message.

Except for one. Trust only those who seem to have dark intents. Use your instincts. This is a test. Do not fail. May the Gods be with you.

The note burst into flames. Nira dropped the not onto the table and leapt up, shrieking. The flames spread and suddenly the entire table was in flames. Mrs. Bitterworth rushed over with a horrified look on her face and a towel in her hands. She batted at the table with her towel, successfully putting the fire out. She turned to Nira.
“are you alright hon? Did you get burned? Let me see your hands.” The older woman fussed over Nira as Nira unsuccessfully attempted to keep her away.
She was vaguely aware of the stranger as he left his table and swept out the door, the shadow of a grin on his face. Nira managed to detach herself from Mrs. Bitterworth and rushed after the stranger and out of the tavern. She emerged onto the street; a cold drizzle fell on her face. She caught a glimpse of the strangers long black cloak as he strode away. She started after him, ignoring the cold in her feet but still longing for her shoes. The shoes that she had so carelessly kicked off in order to roast her feet by the fire and them promptly forgot. She bit her lip and hurried down the street, catching up with the stranger.
After losing him she began to scold herself. What the Hell am I doing hiding from this man? Why am I even following him? He was just trying to scare me. The note was silly, foolish. She leaned up against the building and let out a sigh. She closed her eye and attempted to gather her thoughts.
Suddenly a hand came out of no where and grabbed Nira roughly by the shoulder. It pulled her away from the wall and reeled her around so that it was behind her. Nira tried to cry out but another hand clamped over her mouth. She felt breath near her ear and kicked violently. The person held on tightly and whispered in her ear.
“No use resisting, little Nira. There’s no one to save you, no one to hear you scream.” The voice was silky smooth, just the kind of voice Nira would expect to come from The Violet Eyed Stranger. The hand was removed from her mouth, but the stranger still had a tight hold of her.
“You’re that man from the tavern” she breathed. She heard chilling laughter come from the stranger.
“Him? You think I’m him? What a funny little girl. No, I’m not him. I’m someone much, much worse.” The man laughed again, the sound was eerily hollow. Nira felt a cool metal against her neck. A knife, she thought in fear. He has a knife!
“Please” she whispered. “What do you want?”
Again he laughed; the noise seemed to pierce her soul.
“I want only one thing.” The stranger pressed his mouth closer to her ear and whispered even more quietly then before.
“I want to defy Fate Nira, I want to defy Destiny. I want your life.”
The stranger held Nira even tighter. Nira could feel the knife press harder, and harder, till she felt a sharp pain. She imagined the tiny drop of blood that would be clinging to the knife, the small cut that would be larger soon.
“Make it quick” she hissed.
“Why would I do that?” The stranger sounded almost gleeful; the knife pulled a couple of inches away from her throat.
Nira squeezed her eyes shut and waited for the cold metal to return.
God, I have only one request, she prayed. Someone please remember me. Please, oh please let someone remember me.




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