Chapter Two

Hitting the scolding metal of the blade with his hammer, I watched as sparks flew around at the contact. Father had been in the shop for the past four hours rambling about someone asking for a sword that had to be unique. I had never seen my father complain about making a weapon, and with each bang of the hammer, I wondered if he was unwilling to craft the blade, to begin with.

Confused, I sat in the corner of the shop as I watched sweat bead down his face. Father looked tired as if he hadn't slept in days. Standing from my seated position across the room, I grabbed the pitcher of water. Father hadn't taken a break in the past hour, and I could only assume he would be thirsty.

Stepping just behind Father, a small smile filled my lips. How many hours had I spent watching this man work? How many long nights had I heard the sound of the hammer hitting the hot steel of the blades? Sighing at the thought of his hard work, I gently grasped his arm.

Jumping slightly, Father turned to me with a tired smile. Wiping the beading sweat from his brow, Father sighed. Glancing down at the pitcher of water that I held, his smile returned as a small thank you left his lips. Taking a long drink of water, I couldn't help but frown. He was working too hard.

Wiping the water from his lips, he placed the pitcher on the table. Grasping the sword by the base, he plunged the blade back into the fire. "shouldn't you be learning the woods, Annabelle?"

Just at the mere thought, I frowned. "I thought you didn't want me to learn?"

"I don't," he whispered. Grasping the sword, he returned it to the metal table. "That's why I want you to marry into Matthews family."

Groaning, I turned away. "You know I can't do that, father."

Hitting the hammer, I watched as Father frowned. "I don't want you to go into the woods, Annabelle. I've tried for years to hide your age." Lowering the hammer, father's shoulders hunched. "Yet it seems my efforts have been in vain."

"I know father, but I must go. I need to find Sharlee and bring-,"

"Sharlee is dead!" He yelled, slamming his hand down on the table beside him.

Sighing Father threw the sword back into the flames. Turning to me with a frown, he continued. "Sharlee was a chosen, Annabelle. She was sacrificed to those wolves. It's been three years... she isn't coming back."

Casting my eyes down, I thought back to that morning.

As soon as the church bells chimed, I rushed towards the woods entrance. Many people were already there, and I suspected most had stayed the nights in hopes their loved ones returned safely to them. Pushing my way through the small crowd, I watched as some of the girls who had left started making their way back through the trees. All of them looked tired and frightened, with some even running back to the safety of their loved ones.

As time passed, I watched more and more girls return... apart from one. Sharlee was nowhere to be seen and as her family began to realize what had happened, I could hear them cheering with excitement. She had been chosen, meaning her family would be showered with money till their hearts were content.

Stepping closer to the forest, I watched for any sign of movement but there was none. Dread filled me as realization kicked in. All the girls had finally returned... apart from Sharlee. Not thinking, I ran towards the woods. I knew my way around the area, thanks to Gabriel and his many visits, and I only hoped I would be able to find Sharlee asleep near a tree.

Running along the path I knew the girls had taken, I kept calling out Sharlee's name. but there was no reply. Stopping between the thicket of the trees, I tried to catch my breath. The sound of a twig snapping behind me had my body freezing.

"Sharlee?" I whispered. 

Turning towards the sound, my breath left my lungs at what was behind me. Standing behind me were the very creatures we would celebrate every full moon. These were the very things that probably took Sharlee. With clenched hands, I glared at the wolf. "I know you can understand me. I want my friend back." I said.

If the wolf understood me, he didn't seem to make a sound to acknowledge it. Gritting my teeth, I took a step closer. "Where is she?" I shouted.

Lowering its body, the wolf growled as it took a careful step closer. Reaching down to the blade strapped to my thigh, I ripped it out of the holster. "Come closer, and I won't hesitate to hurt you."

Growling again, it took a slow step closer. It wasn't until now that I realized the full height of the beast. It had to be at least the size of a cow, if not bigger! As it went to take another step closer, I threw the blade, slicing the side of its shoulder open. The sound of its whimper pulled at my heart but I had to remind myself that it was a beast not some fluffy animal from the farm. Before I could do anything else, the wolf turned and ran deeper into the forest, leaving me alone in silence.

Sighing, I opened my eyes. "I know you don't want me to go, Father, but I promise you, I will return safely."

"That's what your mother said. Next thing we know she is married to another man in another village." He spat.

Biting my lip, I nodded. My mother had left on a business trip to a village close to us. She had travelled to sell her fabrics and gowns, but when the time came for her to return, she didn't. Concerned, Father went to the village to find her, and find her he did. She was with a man in his bed. From that day I hadn't seen or heard from her.

She hadn't come to see me or write to me. From that day on, I knew I didn't have a mother anymore, and that was fine. She had never shown me any love, instead, she invested most of her time in her work. That's where father was different. He worked hard during the day, but when I was due home, he would spend as much time with me as he could. Even crafting a special blade for me. Too bad I lost it the day I went looking for Sharlee.

Groaning, Father picked up the blade once more. "I won't have you enter that festival, Annabelle."

Walking towards the door, I glanced at Father with a small smile. "We don't have a choice."

¬^ ¬^¬ ^¬ ^¬

The very next morning the town was bustling with newcomers. People from all around the area had come to watch the festival in a few days. Some of the women that had come to enter were wearing white gowns with lace patterns, a lousy choice if you as me, and as they stepped into the centre of town, I couldn't help but snicker at their disgusted faces as a horse trotted by kicking up the wet mud. Smirking to myself, I picked up the base of my brown skirt as I made my way towards my father's stall.

Today Father was going to sell the sword he had worked all night long crafting. I had heard Father hitting the blade with his hammer until the sparrows began to sing. As I reached Father's stall I could see just how tired he looked. His eyes didn't seem to shine like they had the other times he was here. Usually, he would have a smile as wide as the moon, but today, he appeared to be distant.

Reaching the table, I watched over all the men who were talking about the newly crafted sword. The sword did look beautiful. The butt of the handle was full silver metal with vine carvings coming up from the oak wood before a thick brown leather strap wove its way around the base. Along the blade itself, was the same vine carving with what looked to be writing. It was beautiful. As I neared closer, a few people began to argue about the price stating it was too much, but Father wasn't budging. He knew what he wanted and all that hard work was not going to be in vain. Whoever this buyer was, surely they would pay the price.

Clearing his throat, Father began to talk about the blade. "surely you can see how well made this is?" gesturing to the blade, Father smiled. "The sword itself is pure silver, and the marking had taken hours to do."

A middle-aged man slammed his hand down on the wooden table, before glaring up at Father. "Surely you can see that for us, paying ninety coins for this is too pricey?"

Sighing I moved closer to fathers side. A few of the younger men gazed at me with smirks, yet I paid them no mind as I grabbed the sword. "the blade is sharpened to the very point and could slice through the skin with a gentle touch." To prove my point, I gently ran my finger over the blade. Hissing, I pulled my hand back to see a bead of blood drip down my finger.

"Annabelle." Father scowled. Grasping my injured finger, Father glared down at me. Ignoring Father, I turned to smirk at the men around the table.

"See." A few of the men stared back in shock. I wasn't sure if it was due to how sharp the blade was, or for the pure fact, that I was willing to harm myself to help push a sale. Turning towards Father, I watched his mouth open only to be cut off by a deep honey-like voice.

"I'll take it."