The Valley

Annie Silverblood was a petite young lady whose thick, wavy red hair was often kept from attacking her face by a small black band that was tied at the nape of her neck. She was short-sighted- therefore a pair of thin-wire glasses was perched on the end of her nose, of which freckles danced across her skin. Her nose was sharply angled, and it added to the effect her harsh, carefully examining gaze had.

If it wasn't for the fact that a long scar marred the flesh on the right side of her face, many might have considered her beautiful. The blemish was hard to overlook by most. While Annie did not think so, her father often told her how pretty she was and how she looked more and more like her mother every day.

The scar was from an attempt made on the poor man's family's lives. While his daughter made it out with only a bleeding gash on her cheek and a few bruises colorfully decorating her body, his wife was in a coma. Annie often blamed herself for the turn of events, though it was her father's gambling addiction that was at fault.

One day when her father had fallen deathly ill, she learned of the debts he owed. She took it upon herself to somehow gather the money necessary to pay off the debts. Leaving her father to her aunt's care, she set off on a life-changing journey.

In another part of the same town lived a mischievous man who was constantly craving knowledge. He wasn't after just any piece of information though; he believed in the existence of other-worldly creatures. He so desperately wanted to prove that mythical creatures were real and that their existence was covered up by a power-hungry government.

Of course everyone thought he was crazy. His own mother couldn't stand his nonsense any longer, and threw him out onto the streets.

"Don't come back until you've cleared your head and found yourself a job!" she said, slamming the door shut in his face. Why couldn't he have been more like his siblings? she wondered.

The man, only slightly older than Annie, heaved a great sigh. Though he was now homeless, a small smile did still form on his lips. His hand dove into his jacket pocket, and his fingers closed around the small object that rested within: his mother's rather expensive engagement ring. He planned to sell it at a risky market square for information.

With the thought set firmly in his mind, he dashed off, the rush causing the mess of curly brown hair on his head to move as though there were heavy winds. He did not know that his own life was about to drastically change.