All Chapters of Layla: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

My name is layla. I was born in 920 b.c. I was left by an apple tree in the middle of a grass field, with wild flowers. My adoptive father, Damien found me, and took me home to his wife, Isabell. They had two kids together;  Phebe (age 10) and Isaiah (age 5). Isabell had Phebe at the age of 13, and Damien was only 17 years-old at the time. It was normal in 920 b.c to marry, and have kids young. My parents were only married a few months before having Phebe.    We lived in a cottage that had 500 farm acres of strawberries and grapefruit behind it. My father was a winemaker, and my mother a baker. They had a building beside the cottage they used as a bakery. They sold their baked goods and wine to the neighboring people. We were not rich, but we were not poor. The bakery was a family business, so us kids helped out. 

It was just another day. We were all working at our family business. Phebe was working in the back of the bakery with mom, while Isaiah and dad were bringing in the wild flowers that mom needed for her next cake order. Phebe had gotten so well at baking bread that mom let her do cakes now. She had made a few, and messed up alot. She had only made one cake correct out of her 7 tries. I was at the register, greeting people who came in to buy stuff. Even though I could cook and make wine, I was the only one in my family that was great at math, reading, and writing. My dad was okay at it, but he said I was better at it than him. I was standing there listening to mom and Phebe talk to each other, joking around about the cake they were fixing to make when a man dressed in all black walked into the bakery. He was wearing a cloak, so I could not see his face very well. He gave me a bad vibe, but I greeted him all the same. 

The merchandising guild was a stone building with two stories. When you entered the building there was an open space with tables and chairs, behind the open area were several desks with clerks behind them. There were stairs that led up to an open space with more tables and chairs. There was a bar behind those table and chairs. It was nice. People were talking to each other at the tables. It sounded like important conversions about how they ran their business. I walked up to one of the desks. Trying not to bring attention to myself.    “Hello ma’am, my name is Wonda. How can I help you?” There was kindness in her voice. She looked me up and down. I wondered if she noticed my horns.   “I’m new in the capital. I would like to purchase a building I can use as a home and a shop.” She turned around, and walked to a table full of maps.

I felt calm, and safe as Theodore looked into my eyes. He would protect me, even though I had horns and different colored eyes? I have always been different, but my family did not care. They were the only ones to accept me for me, and now they are gone… but now there's this angel. He says he knows who I am… but does he really? I just met this guy… could I really trust him with my life? His silver eyes made me want to believe him. To trust him.    “And who am I?” I asked, looking at him, pleading in my eyes. I had never wanted to know who I was or who my parents were, but now that I am alone, my family gone, I wanted… no, I needed to know. He let go of my chin, then turned around. He walked to the door, and opened it.   “It’s better you don’t know. I will be back.” He turned to face me with one foot out the door. &

I was standing in the bakery, holding Jamira's hand, then I felt a hot breeze against my skin. I closed my eyes for one second. When I opened them, I saw rock. I felt sick to my stomach. As I tried to gain my balance, I fell to my knees, holding my stomach. It felt as if my guts were being pushed up my throat.   “I feel like I might throw up…” I let go of Jamira’s hand. I slowly got to my feet, then looked around. There was a red sky, with a black sun, with a golden ring around it. It was like an eclipse. There were black rocks surrounding the whole area as far as I could see. I was standing at the top of what looked like a castle. The castle was made with obsidian. There was a pretty shine to it. Unlike my hair, the rock shined with a tint of gray spots all over it. The doors, a red tint of obsidian. From what I could see, we were standing in the yard of the castle. There were different kind