Bewitched

Chapter I

The air was sharp, pinpricks of cold biting at my skin. I huddled closer to my cloak, pulling the tattered hide around my shoulders, my breath leaving small puffs of white in the air. The frost had settled quicker this year, the village pulsating with nervous energy. We had never had to leave this early before.

Grasping my cloak tightly, I worked my way through the crowd bouncing anxiously on the balls of my feet. The journey to the Upper Kingdom was always harsh, but the sun cast a warm glow on the boats, quelling the frigid sea air that creeped its way through the wood. Today though, the sun was gone, chased away by thick, gray clouds that blanketed the entire sky. The wind roared, almost masking the sound of the North Sea bubbling up around the boats, spitting sea foam in the air.

The crowd murmured, a mix of confusion and nerves. I flicked my gaze through the crowd, landing on a young boy and girl. They playfully prodded at each other, giggling when one of their blows landed. I smiled softly before shifting my view to their parents. They watched their children play, but behind their eyes I saw fear. The people in front of me moved forward, my eyes shifting back to the boats, watching families file in after each other, dirty hands grasping one anothers.

I knew the wars still raged, terrible battles fought between my people and the Likkos but they were always contained to the West. The wars had never breached the Upper Kingdom, or traveled down to us. I grew up with stories of the wars, tales of great heroism and tragic loss whispered in the dark among soft glowing embers. These wars had existed for centuries, a constant battle between the Likkos and our Kingdom.

Only recently had the wars begun to push closer to the Lower Kingdom, uneasiness spreading throughout our people. The West had once belonged to the Kingdoms, an old land that bridged the Upper Kingdom and my home, the Lower Kingdom together.

But as the tale goes, the Likkos rose up against the King centuries ago, wanting his power for their own. The people of the Upper Kingdom struck down the Likkos and cut off the West, forever dooming the Likkos to eternal exile. Once the West was cut off, the people of the Lower Kingdom were forced to push farther East, and with the West no longer connecting the two Kingdoms, the Lower Kingdom was cut-off from the rest of the Kingdom, separated by the vast North Sea.

All those years ago, the power of the Upper Kingdom was shared among the Lower Kingdom, the West interlocking us together. But, when the West was exiled, the power ceased to exist within the Lower Kingdom as no villager of the Upper Kingdom dared to venture to our land as they once had.

As the years went by, the ties between the Upper Kingdom and Lower Kingdom moved farther apart while the Likkos grew stronger, their bloodlines still containing the power that the people of the Upper Kingdom hold. Yet, the Likkos still yearned for the divine power that was bestowed upon the King.

Years after the West's exile, in a bitter period of cold, the Likkos attacked the Lower Kingdom, slaughtering thousands of innocent lives. Without powers of their own, the people of the Lower Kingdom were of no match to the Likkos. The people of the Lower Kingdom thought they had been abandoned by the Upper Kingdom when King Dythius used his power to save them, banishing the Likkos back to the West.

But, the Likkos had not been completely destroyed permanently.

The Likkos lay dormant during the three intervals when the great Goddess of tranquility Alcyone rises high in the sky but when Goddess Skathi sends her chilling frost over our land, the Likkos become restless, their power growing stronger, attacking the people of the Kingdoms come winter.

For their protection, once the frost settles, the people of the Lower Kingdom travel across the North Sea as put in order by King Dythius, seeking asylum in the Upper Kingdom, sheltered away from the Likkos' attacks.
Many believe that the origin of the Likkos and their first attack on the Lower Kingdom are senseless old wife's tales, but nonetheless are still used to warn children from roaming too close to the Western Border.