Today is day Ten and I’m BUSY. I don’t quite know what happened but I woke up today, looked around and realised I had a mere 50 billion things to do. So naturally, I sat down at my computer and procrastinated the morning away. I even caught up on my note book that I had been neglecting.
Eventually I found the courage to face my tasks. I have been to the shop, done my daily walk and now here, my words for Day Ten! Hope you all enjoy. Happy Monday!
You can find Day One of my challenge here. Also, further details about the 100 day challenge can be found here.
The Shepherd’s wife gave birth on the first day of the lambing, just as the witch said she would; and, like the witch foretold she gave birth to twins. The first had fair skin and striking green eyes the second was dark and its eyes were as cold and clear as ice. They knew at once the curse was real.
Without regret or hesitation the Sheppard took it outside and before it could utter its first cry saw to it that it would never harm the tribe.
It was only later, when the Shepherdess brought the child to her breast to feed did they realise their mistake. The choked off scream as its fangs pierced her skin was almost more than the Shepherd could bare. The witch had won after all.
Ventur was feeling pissed off. He’d been feeling that way more often recently and that just seemed to piss him off even more. He felt like it was harder and harder to control himself and he was getting into more and more arguments with his friends because of it. Even Theo, who would usually sit calmly as Ventur paced and ranted about his troubles was starting to make pointed comments. Then there was Rheandra. She seemed to actively seek him out and wound him up on a daily basis. She would talk in her exasperated way about how magic is power and should be embraced for the good of all, about what he should be doing with his unique ‘gifts’ and about what she would do once she was free of this prison she was so tragically confined in.
It had been a long ten years. After this was over Meladath swore she would never teach a single person anything ever again. How people did this job their entire lives she could not understand. She saw the other teachers in the corridors and they smiled at the children, they actually smiled. Did they put something in the water around here? The blood they served for meals wasn’t exactly the standard she was used to but then again, donor blood never was. It lacked the sweetness that accompanied a truly corrupt soul. So maybe they were drugging the water after all? She wouldn’t put it past the damned Headmistress.
Cóir observed the barely controlled chaos around him as Ventur was led away by flustered but well-meaning teachers and the Vampire child had been calmed down and shown to the nurse’s office for the Vampire equivalent of a hot tea and a biscuit. The fake headmistress had disappeared soon after the real one had arrived, much to the relief of everyone involved. He studied the Headmistress, his sightless gaze taking in everything. She was clearly terrified and completely out of her depth. She had no idea what was going on or what to do, she was in need of a scapegoat and fast. Cóir wasn’t surprised when, after managing to stay calm in front of both the children and staff, she rounded on him like a maddened Harpy.
Cóir sat staring at nothing, listening to the sounds that filled his world and contemplating the conundrum that perched on the other side of his door. This particular conundrum sat on a hard wooden bench that was designed in such a way as to keep the most determined of visitors from overstaying their welcome. Not even the ghastly deputy head who plagued the building fifty years back had managed longer than twenty minutes on the contraption. So far this kid had lasted nearly an hour.
Cóir was impressed. In Cóir’s endless campaign to be left alone to do his work he had found that his personal brand of defensive furniture was a formidable force for good. His creations had never failed him. Indeed, in the nearly 300 years that he had been a visiting professor at the school, no one had managed to withstand the mixture of masterwork carpentry and deeply ingrained magics, that he had personally combined in order to produce the most disconcerting bench he could imagine.