White Ghost and the Poison Arrow

Chapter 1

Silver
moonlight dances on the surface of the lake, bouncing off the
ripples caused by the spring breeze. The scent of blossom blows
across the water from the forest on the other side. The forest
stretches almost as far as the eye can see. A sea of green and
pink, all ghostlike under the full moon. Snow topped mountains can
be seen in the distance. The snow will remain here long into
summer. Remnants from the harsh winter just been. On the other side
of the lake, a great expanse of plains lie, stretching as far as
the eye can see. The grass is long and green, fresh from the spring
rain and bountiful sunshine over the last few weeks. The grunts and
snores of a herd of sleeping bison can be heard not far from the
lake. A great oak tree sites a short distance from the lake, its
wide branches filling the sky and bright green leaves, surrounded
by pink blossom, grow like hair. The roots sprawl in all
directions, twisting and turning in the ground. This tree is old,
and has been standing by the lake since long before people walked
these lands. Dark brown branches stretch out like fingers, the bark
cracked and rough like dry skin.

Under the lone
tree sits a girl of fourteen. Skin flawless and white as snow, hair
as silver as the moon its-self. The breeze catches a wisp of hair,
blowing it in front of her eyes. She takes her hair into her hand
and pulls it all to her right, tying it into a loose braid. Using
the water of the lake to see her reflection, she replaces the onyx
coloured feathers she removed from her hair just a few hours ago,
then secures it all with a leather strap at the bottom. She pulls
her doe skin cloak tight around her shoulders. The breeze is nice,
fresh and sweet, but still has the winter chill. The fabric of her
trousers is soft but warm, made from the skin of a paloa fox,
abundant in the grasslands. Many of the people in her tribe wear
paloa skins, and they have been passed down through the
generations.

In the distance a wolf howls, a long and lonely howl. She is soon
joined by others, a beautiful but sad and haunting chorus. Arella
sighs. How she wishes she was free as those wolves. She closes her
violet eyes and leans back against the rough bark of the oak tree.
This is the only place where she can be herself, out in the
wilderness away from the tribe. Dream her own dreams and follow her
own rules. Arella's tribe have strict rules on how a girl should
behave, what she should look like and how she should talk... or not
talk as the case may be. Arella has never been one to follow the
rules, right from the day she was born. When Arella was born, her
mother got into difficulty. The words on her final breath were "My
sweet baby Arella". She was born without a father, the product of
an invasion from an outside tribe, and with no other family to look
after her. As a result Arella was given to another mother who had
recently lost her child. Nayleen cared for Arella until she was 10,
before she was killed on a hunting trip. Nayleen was a kind lady,
but very set in her ways. Arella has been looking after herself
since then, and as a result is more independent than the tribe
leader would like her to be.
Arella is not well liked in her tribe, and for more than just her
unwelcome outspokenness. She looks different from the others. Her
pale skin and bright hair make her strange from the rest of the
girls in her tribe. They are all dark skinned, tanned and black
haired while she is pale. They do not let her be part of any of the
rituals. Many in Arella's tribe believe that she is a curse on
them, and that one day she will bring them bad luck. Arella's
paleness is beautiful but unusual, and unusual things are not
welcome in her tribe. Unusual things are something to be feared and
rejected. If you do not know how something works, it might be
dangerous. This is the way they think of Arella. They do not see
her as unique, just something to be feared. If it weren’t for the
fact that everyone in the tribe believed in the spirits doing
things for a reason, Arella thinks they would have gotten rid of
her a long time ago. They have not chased her off, or run her out
of the tribe, but they do not treat her with respect either.

In the
distance, sounds of music and laughter can be heard. The tribe are
celebrating the birth of the chief's new son. He was born earlier
that day, and is a healthy addition to the tribe. The chief already
has three sons and two daughters, to carry on his name. His eldest
son will most likely take over the tribe when his father passes.
Arella sits under the oak tree, out of the way of the celebrations
that she would not be welcome to even if she wanted to attend. All
of the chief's children are model tribesmen. The boys are growing
strong, and learning to hunt and fight. The eldest has broad
shoulders and big arms, only fifteen but has the body of an older
man, and his younger brothers going the same way. While the two
girls are beautiful and courteous. They are learning to cook and
clean and will make good wives for the warriors of the tribe. The
eldest will soon be able to marry, she is fourteen now, and already
has an intended husband. Arella would not make a good wife. She is
not obedient enough. Why should she do what someone tells her to
do, to cook for them, and clean for them and do everything they ask
just because they are a man? But the tribe do not see it this way.
They have lived like this since the elders can remember. Why change
a system that does not need changing.

Arella longs to
learn how to fight, and how to hunt. She practices in the fields
near the lake, where the rest of the tribe cannot see her, but she
could benefit from someone teaching her properly. She is fast and
agile, can climb any tree, is flexible and agile, but has no
strength to go behind it. She can throw a dagger well, and hit a
target from thirty feet away, but her skills with a spear are
lacking. At the very least she can run fast and hide, but Arella
dreams of being able to join a hunting party and be part of
something bigger. As it is, she is not part of anything. The men
will not let her join them because she is a girl, and the women
will not let her join them because she is different. Arella is
stuck between a rock and a hard place.

A thought
crosses Arella's mind while she listens to the sounds of the night.
Why doesn't she just leave the tribe? Make her own life in the
wilderness where she can be as free as the wolves she longs to
follow. This thought has come to her many times, and the answer is
always the same. She is scared. Arella has never been outside of
her tribe, and however uncomfortable she feels in their presence,
there is a certain comfort in knowing there are people around you.
Arella knows she is not ready to live on her own. She knows the
basics of hunting, and she can make a fire, but actually doing
things in practice may not be so easy. She is determined to do it
though, and she needs it to be soon. Even though Arella is only
fourteen, she feels mature, and she knows what she wants. Freedom.
More than anything, Arella wants to be free and have no
worries.

Arella looks at
the position of the moon. It is still early in the night. She
shivers as a cool breeze blows across the lake once again. "I think
I need to walk, otherwise I might freeze to this tree." she says to
herself. Arella often talks to herself. She is the only company she
has most of the time, and the company could be a lot worse she
would tell herself. The gods can hear her too she tells herself in
times of loneliness. They would not have made her this way unless
it was for a good reason. This brings her some comfort, but Arella
can't help wondering why she was made so pale, and whether her
father was a pale man or if she was unique. Arella often though
about her father, and wondered who he was. Nayleen had said that
all they knew of Arella's father is that her mother started showing
signs of carrying a child not long after the village was raided by
a passing tribe. This happens all to often, but there is nothing
anyone can do about it.

A great owl
flies overhead, almost as if it is encouraging Arella to follow it.
His big yellow eyes staring back at her as he flies silently
through the night sky, his big wings beat once as he glides along.
His white belly is the main thing Arella sees, but as he looks at
her, the dark brown surrounding his facial features becomes clear,
spotted with a lighter brown. This pattern continues down the rest
of the owls body, all the way to his tail, fanned out for balance
and steering as he flies. He calls out as he goes, and somewhere in
the distance his mate calls back. He flies in the direction of the
woods on the other side of the lake, calling as he goes.

Arella stands
up and realises her feet are cold. She had taken her boots off
while sat under the tree and forgotten. She slides her feet into
her boots and laces them tight again. "Warmer already." She says.
Arella has always preferred to go barefoot, but when walking on
unknown land this is not always possible. Last thing she would want
would be to hurt her feet and be unable to do the things she loves
best. Arella shakes her legs to wake them from the cold and starts
walking by the edge of the lake.

The moon lights
up the area with great ease, not a cloud in the sky. The stars
creating patterns and stories in the blackness. Arella likes night
time best. She can see better in the dark then she can in the
daylight. You could say she has night vision to a certain extent.
During the day, Arella has to wear dark cloaks to shield her eyes,
and paints her cheeks with charcoal to reduce the glare. By doing
this she can see, even in bright sunlight, but without this she is
almost blind. She can see well in cloudy conditions, and almost as
good as daylight at night when the moon is out. This is another
unique factor about Arella that the other tribe members do not
like, but it is a feature that she has grown to love. She can hide
in the dark of the forest and watch the wildlife at night, when no
other person could do so.

The further
from the village she walks, the quieter the sounds of the
celebrating tribe get. The crunch of gravel underfoot is a soothing
sound. It reminds her that she is alone, at one with nature. She
can breathe out here, and she feels at home. Maybe leaving the
tribe might not be so difficult after all. They would look at her
as a bad omen, and if anything were to happen to the new baby, she
would get the blame. This happened a couple of years ago. People
die, it’s a fact of life, but in the summer last year, at the
birthday of one of the chief’s daughters, a young member of the
tribe got sick. She was laid up in bed for days before finally
dying. Arella got blamed for this because she sat next to the young
woman at the feast. Arella will not risk that happening again.

Wind from
across the lake blows smells of fresh blossom and spring towards
Arella. She breaths in deep, taking in the scent of freedom. It
fills her lungs and makes her smile. The rustle of the long grass
in the breeze is like a quiet whisper, telling the secrets of the
land in a language she cannot understand. Somewhere in the
grasslands a young bison stirs, awoken from a bad dream, and soon
quietened by its mother. Crickets play music in the grass and birds
in the trees, they have not yet gone to sleep, the night still
young.

The crunch of
the gravel under Arella's feet stays at a steady pace. She is in no
rush on her walk. In fact, she needs this walk to take as long as
possible. Arella does not feel like she would be able to go back to
her tribe while there are still people in the partying mood. Her
presence may dampen the mood, and that would not be welcome at
all.

As she walks
past the reeds at the side of the lake, a great white swan flies
out from the bank, clearly startled by the girl walking close to
her nest. she glides back down onto the water a few meters away,
shakes her tail feathers and fans out her wings. She looks
beautiful and majestic. The swan floats on the top of the water
with great ease, the ripples her movements cause are slight. Arella
does not know any other creature that is as graceful as the swan,
but then she hasn't travelled far enough to know of creatures that
do not live close to her homeland.