Love is Magic

The sun was slowly descending down behind the trees and into the ground as Evelyn walked home. Leaves crunched under her feet as she pulled the hood of her dark purple cloak over her head to protect her face from the chilly night air. Evelyn looked down at the basket in her hands, and began grinning proudly as she walked down the empty street. “Mother will be so pleased.” Evelyn said to herself .Earlier that morning her mother sent her to collect special herbs. They were supposedly very difficult herbs to collect, so it was very important for Evelyn to pick them carefully. Apparently these herbs were rare and hard to spot. To Evelyn’s surprise she had found them very easily. She was sure it was just because she had spent so much time watching her mother work. She was proud to say she knew so much about the power of different herbs and potions. After a while deciphering between different herbs must have just become second nature to her. They were so easy to find Evelyn was able to fill her whole basket with them. “Mother will not be asking me for any more of these herbs for a while.” Evelyn nodded towards the basket.

As Evelyn continued walking down the ominous street she noticed a night owl poke his head out from behind a branch. The owl glanced over the world below him then hopped farther out to the edge of the branch. When he was sure it was safe he began to call out hooting at the sky. Evelyn smiled as she listened to the Owl’s sweet lullaby. There was something about this time of night the Evelyn enjoyed. There was something so mysteriously bone chilling about it. The sense of danger heightens as the clarity of the day fades away. Around every corner lurked adventure that was not there when the sun was up. It had always amazed Evelyn how quickly light was consumed by darkness. One moment the streets would be packed with peasants shopping and conducting business. While their children danced and basked in the warm rays of sunlight. Now that the sun and light had disappeared so did all of the people. As if the dark night sky had swallowed everything that was joyous and good. The street had been abandoned and left for the rats and mice to inhabit for the night. They would feast on the crumbs left by bread sellers and find shelter in the pieces of cloth dropped by dress makers. In the darkness the rodents would come alive.

The only light came from the cracks of old window shutters. They gave way to the warm glow of candles burring just on the other side. The aroma of stews filled the air as Evelyn walked pass homes of the once busy peasants. As she inhaled the familiar scent of carrots and potatoes Evelyn imagined her own bowl of stew sitting on the table waiting for her. By now her father had probably scarfed down his bowl and was sitting by the fire with his feet up and eyes shut. Pasted on his face would be a content grin as she dreamt. Meanwhile her mother would probably be sitting on the floor next to him with her face buried in one of her very old books. Evelyn imagined the slightly annoyed looked her mother would give her father as he began to snore and disturb her reading. After rolling her eyes and smirking up at him she would go back to reading her book. Once Evelyn was finished eating her stew she too would curl up in front of the fire. Evelyn pictured the way the sound of her walking past would startle her father awake. Just like he had done so many times before he would open one eye and smile at her.

“Ah Evelyn, my little Princess. Look at you.” He would say as he reached out for her hand.

Carefully she would sit down on his lap and burry her face into his chest. She would listen to his heart beat as it pounded steadily through his chest. As I small child Evelyn would curl up on her father’s lap and fall as sleep listening to the sound of his heart beating. As she continued imagining what the night would be like once she arrived back home, Evelyn envisioned her father’s necklace sparkling in the light from the fire. So many times she had stared at the necklace and asked to hear the story behind it. She loved to hear about the fact that the silver chain around his neck carried his mother’s wedding ring and a dragon scale. Although the fact that he carried his mother’s wedding ring around his neck was sweet the part of the story that Evelyn enjoyed was hearing about the dragon scale. The dragon scale secretly carried the crest of his family. Evelyn loved to hear about all of the things her parents did before they came to the village. Before she was born her parents traveled and had great adventures. Evenly envied their exciting lives and dreamed of the day she too would go on an adventure to new lands with new people.
Although she could not see the house yet Evelyn knew she was close. She had just passed the cottage with the light blue cloth hanging over the window. The cottage belonged to and old couple known as the Kirtians. Maryann Kirtians sold pies for a living. Normally when Evelyn passed their home she could smell the freshly made apple pies that would be cooling by the window, but this time the cottage was dark and still. There was no sign of the couple or the smell of their sweet pies. It was strange that the cottage was so dark, but Evelyn did not pay it much more attention. She continued on her path home. The closer she got the hungrier she became. She wanted to taste the warm broth as it slid down the back of her throat. She quickened her pace as she continued to imagine what the rest of the evening would hold. She knew that both her and her father would not be able to stay quiet for long. So after a few moments of sitting on her father’s lap Evelyn knew he would eventually shift in the chair he would be just itching to move around. Slowly she would pull her head away from his chest and see him smiling down at her. They both knew what came next. Evelyn would slide off of his lap and take a seat with her back to the fire as her father stood up and circled around the room. He held his hand to his chin as she circled as if in deep concentration. Then he stopped and looked down at Evelyn. He ran his hand through his wavy hair and sighed as he gave in and proceeded to tell the story again.
Every night the same routine of stew and stories by the fire, every night Evelyn would ask to hear about how her parents meant, and every night they would smile at each other and tell her the story. After sixteen years of hearing the same story one would think it would become boring and tiresome. Yet there was something about the way her parents told the story. As they described each detail love and passion filled their eyes. Some nights Evelyn’s mother even began to cry. Hearing how much they loved one another and how happy they were gave Evelyn the feeling of security and safety. As long as they had each other nothing could ever harm them.

Finally Evelyn could see her house. Just behind a few trees was the small cottage that Evelyn’s father built. It was not the prettiest of homes, but Evelyn always thought it had its own kind of charm. Ivy covered the front of the house and flowers bloomed all around it. As her mother often said, “It is no castle... but it is home.” Evelyn’s pace quicken as she came closer to the house. She could practically taste the stew and feel the warm fire on her face. Echoing through her head was her father’s welcoming voice.

Evelyn was surprised to see the cottage was dark. She was expecting there to be smoke rising from the roof top and the calming glow of her mother’s candles burning in the windows. Suddenly Evelyn knew something was wrong. She raced towards the cottage nearly slipping in a puddle as she stepped through door. Her senses were horrified as the scent of stew mixed with the rotting smell of one of her mother’s potions. Evelyn covered her nose as she stepped farther into the house. She looked down at her basket of herbs and wondered if she should have left them outside. They would surely wilt due to the aroma that filled the small room. She slowly placed the basket on the ground as she felt around for a candle or something to burn. Evelyn leaned forward with her arms extended in front of her and felt through the air. She ran her hands across the empty table. There was no bowl of stew waiting for her. Finally she found a candle and was able to see a bit better. Slowly she looked around her home to see everything was completely ruined. Pots were smashed into tiny slivers, several of her mother’s books had been torn apart or thrown around the room, and potion bottles and herbs had been shattered and pushed over.

Evelyn began to wonder if her parents had fought. Maybe her father had come home drunk again, and when he stumbled through the door knocking into her mother’s work bench he made a mess of her potions. That would explain the horrible smell that radiated throughout the house. Knowing her mother has a short temper, Evelyn knew that would start an argument and if her father was drunk he would only help to escalade the fight by screaming back at her mother.
“What are you doing?” Evelyn’s mother would yell. “Stop, you are ruining it!” She would say as she quickly tried and save her work from being destroyed as her husband clumsily stumbles past. With his hands flailing in front of him as he bumped into chairs and shelves trying to make his way towards the chair by the warm fire.

“Wherrre isss the apple piee?” Evelyn’s father would turn and ask. Completely unaware that he caused any damage to the work bench.

“What apple pie?” Evelyn’s mother would reply as she tried to understand his slurred words. His speech gave her more proof that her husband was completed wasted.

After Evelyn’s father managed to sit down in his chair by the fire and after Evelyn’s mother was able to clean up some of the mess that he made she would whisper, “You can’t keep doing this.” Evelyn’s father would only be able to hear his wife mumbling.

“Whatt!” He would ask with his voice raised much higher than it needed to be.

Evelyn’s mother would turn to face her husband. The anger boiling up inside her as she tried to cope with her husband’s drinking habits. It was one thing for him to drink and come home reeking of mead, but it was another for him to come in and ruin everything she had spent all day working on.

“I said this needs to stop!” Evelyn’s mother yelled as she slammed her fist down on the work bench.

“You cannot keep doing this. You come home drunk and talking nonsense leaving me to trail behind you like a servant cleaning up after you.” Tears would begin to fall as her anger grew into pain.

In return Evelyn’s father would stare at his wife with a blank expression. As if he did not understand a word she had said. Then when the words began to register he would feel insulted and become hostile Spitting out things he did not mean.

“I am so sorry.” He would say sarcastically as he bowed to his wife. “A Lady should not have to do the cleaning in her own home. She should not have to deal with the likes of a lazy tavern hound like me.”

In an angry fit Evelyn’s mother would throw one of her books at her husband’s stomach. The book would bounce off of his stomach and drop to the floor. Then Evelyn’s father would glare at his wife and shove the chair he was standing next to over. Then Evelyn’s mother would chuck another book at his head. Finally their anger would boil over. They would go back and forth throwing things and knocking shelves down completely trashing the cottage.

Or maybe Evelyn’s father had come home to find his wife frustrated and already angry. It was possible that one of her potions had turned sour and after hours of tedious studying and measuring Evelyn’s mother just grew annoyed. Normally when her mother fell into one of her sensitive moods Evelyn’s father was able to calm her mother down and make her feel better, but maybe this time he could not help her.

“Ah, there is my beautiful wife. I swear you grow more beautiful every day.” Evelyn’s father would say as he came through the door carrying a large stack of chopped wood for the fire.

“Oh shut up.” Evelyn’s mother would reply as she intensely reads through one of her books.

“I brought you a gift.” He would say as he places the fire wood down and swiftly comes up behind his wife.

Evelyn’s mother spent almost all of her time reading her old books and working to master her potions. When one turned sour or something went wrong it was incredibly hard to fix. Having someone standing over her as she tried to work would only aggravate Evelyn’s mother even more.

“Look.” Evelyn’s father would persist and hold a tiny white flower in front of his wife.

“Stop it!” shoving her husband’s hand out of her view Evelyn’s mother would continue to try and remedy her potion. Completely ignoring her husband’s romantic gesture she would be so focused on trying to save her work that his heartfelt notions would be nothing but an annoyance to Evelyn’s mother.

With the flower still being waved in front of her and her husband’s loving grin painted across his face, Evelyn’s mother would slam her hands down on the work bench in utter frustration. Her head would snap to the side as she glares at her husband.

“Awe, come on darling.” Evelyn’s father would pout.

Instead of laughing at the ridiculous face her husband was making Evelyn’s mother would reach up and grab her husband’s chin. Her nails nearly clawing into his skin as she pulled his face closer to her own and her eyes would narrow into tiny slits.

“I am in no mood to play your silly little games.” She would hiss through her teeth and shove him aside.

The force of his body being shoved aside would cause him to stumble and fall against one of the shelves. Rows of pots would tumble over and smash into tiny shattered pieces. Evelyn’s mother would turn see the mess her husband made and in a moment her anger would have flared up even more. Before either one of them was able to realize what was happening they would have completely wrecked the cottage.

The light of the candle only reached so far. Evelyn had to carefully step over the mess to see farther into the cottage. The deeper into the cottage she moved the worst the rotting odor became. Evelyn scanned the rest of the cottage and saw nothing but destruction. Everything she saw was broken and ruined. All of her family’s possessions were gone. Finally her eyes fell to the farthest and darkest corner of the cottage. Something had been piled in the corner, but Evelyn was unable to make out what it was. She stepped closer to the objects and their outline became clearer. Everything seemed to have stopped, and Evelyn fell to her knees as a lump formed in her throat. She tried to breathe but something in her chest blocked the air from flowing through her body. She closed her eyes and shook her head as she tried to erase the image from her mind. “It is not real. It is just my imagination.” She said to herself before opening her eyes again. When she did reopen her eyes the large dark lump was still in front of her. On her hands and knees she inched closer to the dark pile in the corner. She bit her lower lip trying to stop the tears as they stung her cheeks. On the floor just out of reach were Evelyn’s parents. Their bodies lying lifeless and limp as a pool of blood formed around them.

Slowly Evelyn reached out to touch her father’s hand. He was lying across the top of Evelyn’s mother. One hand grasping his sword and the other was folded behind his back so that his fingers were intertwined with his wife’s. Evelyn drew back her hand and covered her mouth as she looked at her murdered parents. Underneath her father, Evelyn’s mother laid with one hand gripping her husband’s hand and the other cast out to the side. It was as if something had thrown her to the ground. Blood completely covered their bodies. It ran in steams from a wound on her father’s side on to her mother’s dark green gown, and finally pooling around their bodies. Evelyn’s whole body began to shake as she stayed kneeling next to her parents. Scared, alone, and unsure she stayed frozen in the spot next to them just staring at the horrific sight.

Carefully Evelyn wrapped her arm over her parents and buried her face into her father’s chest trying to hold her parents close. As if she could bring them back with the love in her grip. Under her fingers she could feel the cool smooth surface of her father’s necklace. Slowly she lifted her head and wiped away her tears. As she did Evelyn noticed something tucked in her father’s hand. Wedged between his finger and his sword was a tiny piece of paper. With the greatest ease and grace she slid the paper out from her father’s grip. Then she sat back and unfolded the tiny note.

Evelyn, find Gaius in Camelot

Five words were all Evelyn had left of her parents. Five words that led her away from her only family and the only home she had ever known. Gently she refolded the note and tucked it under the strap around her waist. Then she looked back at her parents and began to cry again. She had never been without them, how would she know what to do? Without her parents guidance she would be lost. Evelyn took a deep breath as she heard her father’s voice in her head say, “Be brave my little Princess. Seek out your adventure.”