This is my self-made fic, I'm still in the process of writing it, so as I write more I'll update.

Timeloop Edit: May This page isn't very well updated, so in order to find the story better, go to this site

A little girl came running down the hall, around the corner and into the kitchen, holding something in her hands. She was only six years old, and her face already held the light of one who has much to share with the world--However, right now her hands held a gift, and the only person she wanted to see it was her nanny.

"Harifir," she called gaily. "Hari, where are you? I’ve got something to show you—Hari?"

"I’m in here, child," said the old woman. The girl followedt he sound of the voice to the sitting room. She approached the woman, grinning widely, with her hands clasped tightly and held out in front of her. "Well, come on," Harifir said. "What is it?"

The girl grinned wider. "Hold out your hand," she said happily.

"Why can’t you just tell me what it is?"

"Because," said the child, suddenly solemn. "Because it’s a secret." She promounced this last slowly and carefully, making sure her nanny would understand. "It’s a secret, for you and no one else."

The old woman smiled. It was so hard to resist the child when she did things like this. "Alright then," she said. "Let’s see it." She held out her hand, and the girl, who’s face was lit like a christmas tree, opened her fist—and dropped a live newt into the old women’s waiting palms.

Harifir screeched and, dropping the newt, began to do what looked like a jig—only anyone around would have recognized it as the one called "Eew-get-it-away-from-me-oh-Eru-that’s-disgusting!"

The girl, wide-eyed with fear for the animal, dropped to her knees and began to search. Finally, it was located and she scooped it up into her palm. She was about to leave wehtn she turned back to her Nanny.

"I— I thought you—you’d l-like it, I’m sorry, I— I…" she trailed off and Harifir fixed her with a piercing stare.

"Never, EVER bring one of those into this house, do you hear?!" she roared. "Never!!!"

Harifir sat heavily at the table, suddenly feeling guilty. And yet— She’ll never learn, she thought with a sad sigh. Never learn.

The girl hid in the stable for a good half-of-an-hour, though it seemed much longer to her. She was at the point of wondering if it was safe to come out now when she her her name being called.

"Taurin... Taurin..."

She swallowed. The voice didn’t sound like it belonged to Harifir.

"Taurin..."

It seemed to draw her out of the stable. She walked back to the house, moving slowly, as if she was hypnotized by some unkown force.

"Taurin!"

Whimpering, she entered the parlour. The first thing she was was a stranger, draped in a dark blue cloak, kneeling over something on the floor. Then, as the stranger turned, opened his mouth to say something, she saw what he had been kneeling over.

Harifir.

The old woman lay on the floor, hands clenched at her sides. Her face was bathed in sweat, and she was breathing hard-- harder than she had ever seen her breath, even when she was bringing water in from the wells. Taurin’s eyes opened wide, her mouth dropped into an expression of shock; then, without thinking, she turned and ran straight at the stranger.

"Get away from her!" she screamed as the stranger jumped to his feet. "Leave her alone, you, leave--" she crashed into him, and he grabbed the back of her shirt and carried Taurin across the room. He dropped her onto the bed, then kneeled and covered her mouth with a surprisingly small hand. Then, the stranger spoke.

"You hush," his foreign voice said. He motioned to the woman on the floor. "Be quiet, can’t you see she’s in pain? Yelling will only make her hurt more." Taurin nodded, swallowed, and the stranger let go of her mouth. "Now-- tell me where I can hang this thing." He tugged at the cloak. She pointed. "Good. I’ll be right back."

As soon as he had left, she jumped off the bed and ran to Harifir. "Oh, Hari," she sobbed. "I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have left, I--" she broke off, crying, and jumped when she felt a hand touch her shoulder. She turned, and gasped.

Standing where she expected to be a man stood a young woman, a teen-ager, slight and small. Her hair was straight, but a deep chestnut brown, and pulled back perfectly so the straightness didn’t seem to matter; she wore a tunic of tanned leather, with leather deerskin boots. But it was none of these things that caught Taurin’s eye. No, what made her shiver was the stranger’s eyes. They were a vivid red-voilet, and seemed to burn with an inner light. The child swallowed.

"Move, please, I must try and help her--" the voice, which had seemed so rough and scratchy before, now was low, and musical. "She hasn’t much time."

Taurin nodded, and backed away. She stared as the stranger knelt next to her Nanny. She touched the woman’s forehead, her lips, her eyelids. It took the child a few moments to realize that she was murmering words under her breath. Then, she reached into a small pouch at her side, and pulled out a sort of yellowish powder. This, she sprinkled into the woman’s hair.

"Come here," she said softly, and the child obeyed, walking to her side and kneeling as if in a trance. She saw, with some surprise, that the woman’s eyes were open, and she was breathing less harshly. "Talk with her for a bit," she ordered. "Her time is almost up, it’s time for you to make peace and say goodbye." Then, the stranger stood and back away.

The young woman watched as the child spoke to her Nanny, as she held the last conversation they would ever have; and she swallowed around the lump in her throat. The poor girl wouldn’t have a home after this. Unless--

She was awakened from her thoughts by the sound of Taurin crying, and looked up in time to see the child lean over down kiss her Nanny good-bye. As she did so, two tears fell from the young woman’s face.

Taurin backed away from Harifir, then turned to face the stranger. They stayed like that for a long time, staring into each other’s eyes. Then, the stranger extended her hand.

"Come with me."

"Up... up, a little... more, more... when I give the word... Okay, one... two... NOW!"

Startled by the shout, the rabbit jumped out of the bush where it had hidden and darted away. Taurin caught the movement out of the corner of her eye, and swung her bow around, aiming it at the running animal, and released the string. With a soft thumpth, the rabbit stopped running and lay still. She gasped. Dropping her bow, she ran to get the animal.

Behind her, a young woman came forward and picked up Taur’s bow. She looked at it, then at Taur, and shook her head; then, with the bow, moved backwards into the shadows.

Taurin came running back, holding the animal by it’s back legs. "Rohdai! Rohdai, look! I got supper! I got the rabbit!" But, as she approached the place where her bow had been, she slowed and looked suspiciously around. Dropping her voice, she whispered.

"Rohdai? Where are you?"

Suddenly, something whacked her across the head and knocked her to the ground. "You want to know where I am?" A voice said angrily from above her. "I was waiting for you to come back. I was waiting in a place you where couldn’t see me, with your bow."

Lying on the ground, Taur winced. This wasn’t good.

"Do you know what I could have done to you, lying in wait with your bow? I could have shot you, and you wouldn’t have known it. I coud have stuck it through your stomach-- it’s very painful, going like that. I could have done ALOT worse than thumping you on the back of the head with it! DID YOU KNOW THAT?"

"Yes’m."

"Then might you mind telling me why you dropped your bow?"

Taurin sighed in exasperation. "I was excited, Rohd, come on! Give me a break!"

Rohdai’s eyes grew wide, and Taurin knew that she shouldn’t have said that. "A BREAK!? A BREAK? You want a break, huh? Fine! I can’t wait until you get a break from someone else-- maybe if they break your leg with your own bow and leave you alone in the forest, you’ll regret asking for a break!"

Rohdai turned and stomped down the path, seething. How dare the girl say something like that, when all Rohdai had ever done was try and protect her? She turned, looking at Taurin. The girl lay on the ground, clutching her bow and her head, and Rohd sighed. Would she ever learn?

Taurin stared after Rohdai. Her golden eyes shone with tears, and her chin quivered as she tried not to cry. Biting the inside of her cheek, hoping the pain would keep the tears from falling, she turned and stumbled into the forest.

For a long time, she walked. The ground was soft, and at one point the girl stooped to look at it, finding that she was treading upon a blanket of moss. The woods were green and peaceful, and the sunlight streamed through the canopy of leaves to the ground below, giving everything a soft glow, one that was the colour of new spring leaves. She breathed deeply in, inhaling the scent of pine sap, letting it calm her, and found as she walked that with every step she took farther from camp, her wont for tears lessened and the need to smile deepened. She found herself humming as she walked, and the tune seemed to blend with the surroundings, though she could not remember where it was from. The birds chirped in the branches overhead, and their molodies mixed with the tune she hummed. She continued walking like that, and slowly dropping into a dreamy state, become slowly unaware of where she was headed and what she was doing.

Suddenly, she stopped and looked around, wondering where she was. Looking uneasily about her, she realized that the birds had stopped singing and the woods were perfectly silent and still; the only sound was that of twigs cracking under her feet-- Taurin stared at the ground in confusion. Hadn’t she been walking on moss, only a few minutes ago? Now the ground she treaded was hard, cold dirt, bare of the life of all growing things but the trees that were scattered about her, and even those had changed. No longer were they the tall, majestic pillars of green that she had walked among before, but now short and stunted, without leaves or even mold to show that life had once dwelled here. Feeling a weight on her shoulders and back, she turned to look at them, and was surprised to realize that she had brought her bow and quiver.

Leaning down to inspect one of the deformed trees, Taurin bit her nails with worry. Where was she?

°°°

A sudden crash echoed through the growth, making Taurin spin around and clutch her bow in alarm. She swallowed at what she found: not a thing was moving, and the woods were silent again. Breathing shakily, she slowly reached a hand into her quiver and pulled out an arrow. Silently, with trembling hands, she fit it into her bow and straightened her back. Stroking the arrow’s feathers, her eyes darted back and forth, searching for any sign of someone, or something, else.

Another crash sounded, directly behind her, and Taurin jumped around to face the culprit. As she came to a stop, with her arrow directly over the thing’s chest, she raised her eyes to it’s face and let out a strangled cry. It was a human, a man, but like none she had ever seen: the face was scratched, dirty, and bloody, with a gash running from below the left ear down his chin. Blood was trickling out from beneath the handkerchief which covoured it in rivulets. But it wasn’t that which made Taurin keel back in repulsion-- a wound lay directly over his eye, leaving the eyelid slit open and the bone of the socket bare and open to infection; and the eye, which was itself miraculously untouched, was bulging out of it’s socket.

Taurin gasped with horror and dropped her bow and arrow as the man collapsed, grabbing at her, then realized that he was trying to say something. She sunk to her knees and put her ear to his mouth in time to hear one thing before he dropped into unconsciousness:

"Help... me..."

Taur looked around in alarm, searching through the trees. Oh, why had she come this far? She stood and ran a little way into the wood, hoping wildly that she might come to a cottage. But she found nothing.

Of course, she thought bitterly. This has got to be my punishment for disobeying Rohd... how does she come up with these things?

Biting her lip at the really non-existant smattering of dry humor, she chided herself for wasting time. There was a man back there who needed her help, and all she could do was crack jokes that weren’t even funny. But the thought of that gash on his face... and his eye, oh god, what could have happened to him to make that happen? What would happen if something hit him in the face now? Her eyes opened wide at the thought, and she turned, sickened, to look in the direction in which he lay. Much as she tried, she could not help but imagine his eye socket, empty, with the tissue hanging out. She reeled back against a tree for support, and closed her eyes to shut the image out. Her breathing had only slowed, when a scream jolted her eyes open. The sound came from where she had left the man.

She grabbed her bow and ran back.

When Taurin arrived, out of breath, at the clearing, she stopped short and looked around. Nothing was out of place. The leaves weren’t messed up, nothing had moved. There wasn’t any sign of a scuffle, except for one thing.

The man had disappeared.

Cautiously, she walked forward, surveying the ground, careful to not step on anything that might be evidence as to where the man had gone off to. There’s only one problem with that, she thought crossly. There’s no evidence to step on.

Cross, she slumped down next to a tree. Closing her eyes, she sighed deeply. Staying like that for a good five minutes, she realized she was close to tears. "Oh, no," she said aloud, her eyes shooting open. "I’m not that hopeless yet." She put her hand on the ground to help herself up, and felt something squish between her fingers. Her eys opened wide, and she steeled herself to look down.

Beneath her hand was a whitish sort of substance. In it was a skin-like thing, and the rest of it was liquidy looking. Taur stared at it, the lifted her hands up to her face and sniffed the stuff. Her mouth dropped open, and, gagging, she ran into the brush.

Taurin wandered.

She was lost, she knew, but it was not a conscious awareness. She spent days walking, and slept and ate only out of necessity. She walked as if in a daze, and anyone who would have seen her would have thought her to be possesed, taken by a spirit.

She had only come across a village once. Taurin had remained on the outskirts of the small town for a few days, until the glimmer and twinkle of lights had become too much to bear, and she went to knock at the door of a home. When the door opened, and the woman behind it stared at Taur, then backed slowly into her house. Confused by this reaction, Taur had followed her in, carefully taking in the details of the house. Lit by a small oil-lamp which rested on the center table, at which sat two children, the small cottage was lit with a homey glow. Paintings adorned the walls, and, looking closely at them, she realized that they must be portraits of the family members who lived in this home. Plants were everywhere, spilling from their pots, making the home seem peaceful and confident.

Taurin fixed this in her mind-- as a reminder of the fact that there was good in the world during her wanderings. When she would try to imagine the type of home she would have had had she settled, she would think back on this memory, and be comforted.

All hopes she might have had, though, that she would be accepted by this family, this village, shattered when she spied a mirror and went over to it. What she saw appalled her: her hair, once a deep chestnut brown, was almost black with grime; her face was smeared with patches of dirt. Looking down at herself in horror, she realized why the woman had back away: her clothes were ripped and dirty, her nails black with the dirt that had collected beneath them. Her legs and face were scratched, and many of the wounds had become infected. Trying to understand, to comprehend how she had gotten like this, Taur looked up at the woman, now huddled against the far wall, holding her children protectively against her, and her eyes grew wide as she pointed at the door.

"Out!" she screamed. "Get out!"

"But..." Taur stammered in shock. "I don’t mean any harm, lady, please... just some food, and water..."

The woman picked up a skin of water and threw it at Taur. "There," she said, glaring eyes trained on the girl’s face. "Now take you and whatever else you carry, and leave me and my family alone!"

Clutching the skin, Taurin had turned and run out of the cottage, the door slamming behind her. No, she would not attempt something like that again; she daren’t risk it. So she continued to wander, not sure what she was looking for, no one to comfort her when it got cold.

But that was not true. She had only to close her eyes, and the warm memory of candle-light and growing things could be hers. And she would take advantage of that memory.

For a time, she seemed to stop.

Taur wasn’t thinking about what she was doing anymore. She just walked, and slept, not caring; after her experience in the village, she didn’t think anyone would care if she died. No one would even notice, most likely-- why would anyone be looking for her? No one knew that she was gone-- in fact, no one even knew who she was. This thought went through her head, round and round: No one cares. No one knows. Who would bother to care about you? You’re nothing-- you scare innocent people. It was the only thing that seemed real to her.

"You’re a monster, and no one loves you."

Her words echoes bitterly through the forest. No, her mind protested weakly. The part of her mind that still seemed to think there was hope left for her. There’s Rohdai. Rohdai loves you, she cares, she--

If she cares so much, why hasn’t she come to find you? the other part of her mind-- the more practical one-- snapped. The reason is, she doesn’t. No one does. That’s why no one’s come looking. Face the facts, Taurin. Accept the truth.

No! The hope cried. No, no. That can’t be, she saved us when Hari died, she has to care at least a little... but the protests in the part of Taur’s mind that cared died as the days passed, when still no one came to rescue her. And, with nothing now to stop her from giving up hope, she stopped caring. She did not eat, she did not sleep. If it had not been a natural thing to do, she would have not breathed. And she continued like that. Her only nourishment came from whatever water that she drank-- when she could find it. She walked for weeks, not knowing who she was, or where she was; until finally, lost strength and malnutrition caught up with her, and she fell.

She lay unconscious on the forest floor for over three weeks. Then one day, a boy, out hunting, came upon her, just as she had come upon another. When he saw her, and realized that she was a living being and not a log, he gave a startled gasp. Turning, he ran back to his village-- only a few minutes away-- and fetched his father and mother. They came with him at a run, following him to where she lay. The boy’s mother let a cry escape her lips when she saw the unmoving girl, and the father carried her to their home.

"Hush... don’t try to talk. Don’t strain yourself... you’ll be alright..." The unknown voice was the first thing Taurin heard as she awoke. Sje groaned slightly, and felt something cool press to her forehead. It felt wonderful.

She moaned, and rolled over. It didn’t feel like she was on the hard ground, the last place she remembered being. She was lying on something wonderfully soft, and warm. She tried to open her eyes, but was too weak. She murmerd something.

"What?" The voice said. It’s owner leaned closer in to her to hear her question.

"I said, am I in heaven?"

"No," the voice answered. "In fact, you’re quite far from it."

She nodded, not wanting to ask questions, yet knowing she must. Finally, she raised her eyelids. They felt like lead to her, and it took strength to not let them fall closed. Her vision swam, then righted itself.

Above her, a young man looked down at her worridly. His brows were furrowed, and green eyes watched her with the concentration of a hawk.

Taur yelped. Scrambling out of the bed, she fell to the ground. The young man was out of the bedside chair in an instant, and came to help her up. She flinched away from him, and he stopped, his hand out.

"Let me help you."

She was shaking. "Who are you?" she asked. "Where-- where am I?"

He regarded her with serious eyes. "My name is Seleron," he said. His voice was deep and sure. And musical; to Taurin’s groggy mind it sounded like waves pounding the shore. "What, might I ask, is yours?"

"I’m T--" she paused, realizing that telling him her name might not be the best thing in the world. "Tarihan." She swallowed nervously when his eyes seemed to narrow in on hers, as if he didn’t believe her. Then he smiled, and though it wasn’t completely genuine-- and he has every right to be suspicious, she told herself. He’s never met you before in his entire life, after all-- it felt good to have someone smile at her.

"Good. Now that we’ve gotten that formality out of the way," he said as he bent over her, "you need to get back in bed." She stiffened as he put one arm behind her head and another in the crook of her knees, then lifted her up. Gently, he placed her back on the mattress.

Only when he had let go of her did she relax and allow herself to rest.

He returned to his chair. They sat in silence for several minutes, until the door opened, and Seleron jumped up. "Mother," he said, bowing.

Taurin groggily opened her eyes, curious to see the woman, but the woman wasn’t in her view. She blinked, feeling slightly disappointed, and closed her eyes again.

"How is she?" a kind, matronly voice questioned.

"Much better," answered Seleron. "Her fever’s broken, and she woke up before." He inclined his head in the girl’s direction. "She just went back to sleep."

"What kind of tea did you use?" his mother asked.

"Mostly green-leaf," the young man said. "I tried some of the others, but none of them worked as well."

Taur sighed. She wanted to stay awake and listen, to hear more of what had happened, but she was tired. The bed was warm and soft, and she didn’t even notice as the voices of her caretakers blended into one. She slept.

When his mother left, Seleron looked down at the girl. She had fallen alseep, he noted, and couldn’t he couldn’t blame her. She-- no, not just "she", Tarihan-- had been through so much. No wonder she’s tired. He sat down and wondered, not for the first time, why she had been in the woods.

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