Song of Llyr

I remember very clearly that horrid day. I never realized how heartless the townspeople could be to a child. My parents and my grandmother, they never deserved that. Maybe I really am the descendant of darkness. Fate can be so cruel.

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The Royal House of Llyr – Criccieth, Wales – 1702

"Faye, my darling child. Do behave for Johnathan. Mummy and Father will return in the evening," my mother said softly as she knelt down in front of me. She pushed aside my bangs and gently kissed my forehead.

"But I wanted to go see grandmother too," I wined. I stomped my tiny heeled feet in frustration.

My father walked up to her side. His dress shoes; freshly waxed; shined like a trinket.

"Now, Faye, your grandmother is seriously ill. She would want you to stay here where you will be safe," my father said gently. My mother nodded in agreement in front of me.

Johnathan, the butler, stood behind me with his hands on my shoulders.

"I am sure she will be on her best behavior, Milady," he said. He nodded to my parents as he turned and led me back to the parlor room. "Come now, Little Princess. How about some ice cream, hmm?"

I huffed in stubborn reply and turned to look over my shoulder. My parents smiled warmly and blew me a kiss as they stepped out the door.

Hours passed and I laid in bed. The large heavy covers kept the coldness away. I turned onto my side and stared out the window. A loud rumble shook the windows.

I shrieked and hid under my blankets. I slowly peeked out from under them and watched as a bright yellow streak flashed outside. I cringed as another rumble thundered from outside. A large gust of wind blew open my window, spraying me with water. I started to cry.

My door flew open and Johnathan raced in, running towards the flooding window and pulled it shut.

"There now, it's alright. It's just a little storm. No need to be afraid," he said quietly.

I whimpered in reply still huddled in my blankets.

"Would you feel better if you stayed out in the living area?" he asked, holding out his hand.

I nodded quietly and slipped out from my bed. Taking his hand, I padded softly beside him to the couch and curled up there. I watched the soft flicker of flames in the fireplace, my eye lids getting heavier and heavier. I barely heard the knock at the front door. I watched as the butler quickly strode towards the door and opened it. The sound of rain pattered loudly, nearly drowning out their voices.

"There has been an accident..." a man grumbled.

A rumble of thunder drowned out the reply.

"What about the child?" the grumpy man asked.

That got my attention and I peered over the couch. A short, chunky man in a uniform stood in the soaking rain. His eyes met mine and Johnathan turned and looked at me. His eyes glinted with saddens before he opened the door wider and let the man in. The man looked once more at me.

"How old is the child?" he asked.

"She's ten, Sir," Johnathan replied, softly. "She's too young to live on her own."