The Wrong Step
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Prolouge:
in A.D. 1223 an infant was born, clutching a jewel in her tiny fist. Her peasant father ran to the castle to bring back a priest, but by the time they returned to the hut, the jewel had disappeared. The priest declared that such would be the childs life: all good would slip through her fingers.
The years passed, and the girls beauty became celebrated. Knights and kings journeyed far to gaze into her eyes before leaving on their crusades. Women and children made pilgrimages to look upon her angelic face. All who saw her felt blessed.
But an ancient evil called the Atrox also saw her unearthly perfection and pursued her, offering her father great treasures if she would betroth it. The girl saw her fathers poverty and agreed to the union, making only one request for herself— that her beauty should last forever. The Atrox agreed, and she pledged her devotion for eternity.
A Follower of the Atrox came to take the young woman to the underworld, but when he saw her beauty and grace, he fell desperately in love with her and she, too, with him.
They tried to hide their love, but the Atrox saw through their deception. When the young woman stepped into the Cold Fire to receive immortality, instead of preserving her beauty for eternity, the flames consumed her flesh and bones, turning her into a wind spirit.
The knight could not endure life without her. The force of his love drove him across the world, searching for a sorceress with the power to restore her human form. As he was crossing the sea, a storm broke out and sent his ship off course to the island of Aeaea, where Circe, an ancient enchantress, lived. Circe gave him a magic potion. With it, his beloved could possess any body she desired.
Since then many young women have felt her presence and wondered afterward what made them act so wickedly, never understanding that for a brief time, the spirit of the wind had taken over their mind and soul.
Chapter 1:
Its nine fifteen by the clock in Mrs. Lambos room; it should be the end of third period. Forty-five minutes since class had started, and forty-five minutes since Alyssa sat restlessly, her feet stretched out under the teachers desk. A dull ache had started to pound across her forehead, and Joshua sat behind her, annoyingly braiding and unbraiding her hair.
“The Visigoths believed the dead person was still alive and lived on in the grave, suffering from cold, wet, hunger, and thirst.” Mrs. Lambo stood in front of the class, repeatedly tapping the chalk against the timeline she had drawn on the board.
School was different here. Alyssa like physics, but history bored her, because so much of it was wrong. A red book on Mrs. Lambos desk caught her eye. She read the words on the spine, The History of the Goths, then leaned forward and took the book. Mrs. Lambo glanced at her but didnt appear to object. Alyssa thumbed through the index, looking for a reference to King Tiernan. She found one and turned to the page. The
Lecture became low, humming backdrop as she read.
“Mythical!” she whispered, and a terrible loneliness spread through her. After all the kings great battles and deeds, history had declared him unreal!
“Alyssa, maybe you have something youd like to add to what Ive been saying,” Mrs. Lambo said.
Alyssa looked up. Muffled laughter came from the back of the room.
“I was explaining the belief system of the Visigoths before they came in contact with the Christians.” Mrs. Lambo steeped closer, sniffed, then examined Alyssas eyes, her way of testing for drugs. “Perhaps you could add something. What did the Goths believe happened after death?”
Kids in the back snickered. Someone whispered, “Stoner.”
Alyssa