Untold Timelines

by **Alisha** on May 2nd, 2013, 5:36 pm

Timeline I : The Origin
77th Fall of 494 AV

White fluffy cotton snowballs dropped the chilling empty fields of Syliras. The cold breeze traveled encircling each. It landed softly, a thousand of these powdery balls piled on top of one another. Not that far from these mounds was a child crying in her roofed container. Beads of tears were on the edge of her eyes. The child was covered in a glossy silvery white piece of silk, an improvised blanket that never used to warmth a living. Granny Red was on her way to salvage chances of left crops. Then after some steps, that environment was all but a mirage. It showed how she missed winter. In reality, to rain snow was possible. It was late fall. Syliran knights were in the midst of collecting wheat and various crops planted in the Syliras field. And she was again stealthy picking up some fruits, very cautious not to be caught by any patrolling knights. The woman was estimated to be in her late 50s or in her early 60s. There were grayish strikes on her firmly tied hair. Her shoulders was wrapped and protected by her personally knitted red shawl. This was matched with a dozen of ragged fabrics patched as her skirt that was just below the knees. Granny red continued her walk and was almost a few distances away from the mouth of the harvested land when she perceived that there was a baby below a thin ashy tree. She didn’t hesitate to peep. There she saw the chubby healthy cheeks of the smiling season old. The child found hope in a vast middle of freezing outdoors. Gust spread leaves of the fall where it fells following the two. Stalking at the back of the scene was an unknown shadow with questionable malicious grin.

Secret :

by **Alisha** on May 2nd, 2013, 5:40 pm

Timeline I: The Origin
(Part2)

As we proceed, the hag carried the newly adopted on her arms as she return to her shelter. She was not a hag but an oldie nice woman notable for her marketing skills. Some of her co-merchants hailed with joy upon seeing the cute with her. Some were suspicious of the child’s true origin. Granny had no plans confessing the truth. Rather she replied into one of the gossip street sellers, “The kid was my granddaughter.” It hushed them yet doubts were still there. Her peers of street sellers were a bit of outspoken bunch of people excluding her. They knew when to stopped, and when Granny’s annoyed. She put the bassinet near an improvised hearth where squalor tents surrounding it. The hearth they called was a miniature bonfire. Their faces weren’t facsimiles. Even though if she’ll state it was from a bastard branch, they won’t believe it. So better yet, don’t say anything. The woman couldn’t accept that she too dreamed of having a child. Silenced occupied the flock of organized tents. It was night; crickets chirping sound substituted the early quietness. Mostly merchants were busy on their own businesses. Just after sunset then they would gone back to their homes. Today was a different day for Granny Red. She canceled her scheduled tasks, one of which was her selling of apples. Startled still with having a baby, the old merchant was checking her with an illuminated borrowed lantern often. It was noticeable the white porcelain flawless soft skin of the child. It mesmerized some passers but not too extreme. The beauty of the creature was indescribable. Thoughts came that perhaps it was a princess of a royalty family bloodline.

At that night, Granny can’t sleep. Names, what shall they call her? The old lady tossed three pebbled stones in the fireplace. Two of which landed the center of the flames yet one bounced back to her. Astonished the woman inspected the smoothly piece. Flipping it thrice, until she saw a text engraved lightly on its surface. Figuring out the symbols she murmured, “A…Ah…li…Sa? Lisha? Ali…Alisha?” Her gaze narrowed to the rock. Her blankly stares switched to the bassinet nesting the child. Chimes, she paused and finally she made up her mind. From then on, she decided to treat this baby girl as hers. Alisha she named her.

Next two post... :

by **Alisha** on May 9th, 2013, 12:42 pm

Timeline II: Bonding with Red
(Part 1)

It was year 500 AV, 77th day in the season of fall.

“Alisha… Alisha”, Granny Red called.

“What’s that?” the girl puzzled stood in front of the older woman. Her widening eyes searching for answers. Granny freeze, her eyes shut sunken. It was evening at that time and most men were in the middle of their sleeps. Alisha squeezed her eyes to wiped tiny mucus. She was laying her back in a destroyed poor plank like a shingle that served to be a headboard. Her lower body covered with white blanket. The curtains opening of the mini tent was folded clipped to maintain ventilation. Alisha was awakened by the banging of the chest sound. She saw the Granny kneeling, madly moving, out and in things from the rusty metal storage box. There were varies of rug-like clothes. There were also empty bottles, few coins and knitting kits. She didn’t ever put a hand on that heavy possession of her grandma. That thing she knew where almost all Red’s staff was kept. Certified trader, Red was, even though the absence of books and education she afforded to survive the city of the knights.

“Here it was.” Granny Red raised parallel to her sight, a woven basket. At the same time, Alisha shrugged, “A basket?” Her tone emphasized questioning and playfulness teasing. Newfangled, her grandma doesn’t wake her up. Truly she was the one who’s scolding her that she as a child should have great amount of sleep. What had she eaten that made her to break her supposed to be decorum?
“I was scared awhile ago that I lost it. Gladly, here it was.” Alisha was speechless.

What’s so special about this basket that made her grandma to act this way? The girl nodded, “A-huh…”

Focusing her visions on the matter, she can’t see any special about it. Simple ensembles of pigments nothing unusual, it was like common to her. The alive colors floating, encircling the thing which was on the granny’s hands, aura, it was the aura emitted by the solid handy woodcraft. Alisha didn’t tell her granny about this. She knew the lady very well; she’ll just pester her with questions. Noting that magic users get these judgments they don’t deserve from the locals. Magic is a risk that may cause potential havoc to the city. The system of the knights, yes, Alisha got this disgust over the rules. The little girl wasn’t a fan of dictatorial.

Granny Red tapped Alisha’s shoulder, “This is my late gift for you.” The basket was remade by one of the merchants in the city. The old woman can’t repair the bassinet where she found her adopted. It was torn broken; when a crazy freak man loosed his screws tossing and ripping out market staff. Luckily the materials were reassembled into an oval shape standard basket. Instead of a large basket for a baby, it was transformed to a smaller size carry bag.

Alisha examined it, “Where do you get this?”

She should have said that it was the basket where she found her. But then, Granny Red didn’t do so.

Not with this time, maybe in the future she will.

“…So, how’s your day? Oh! I didn’t see any of you so long until now. You naughty, you shouldn’t go too far from the district. How many times should I tell you that, huh?”

It was so pretty obvious the woman was hiding something with the abrupt next things she said. Alisha doesn’t have any major skills on observation or detecting liars. Being an auristics could be some sort of a handy dandy. Kids were innocent. They’re not stupid, some were clever enough. Let’s take it this way, imagine a clever child with the ability of reading auras. This disciple even not fully trained will boost the kid’s observation on things around him.

“I’m tired. Can I continue my sleep now?”

Sounds insulting for Red, her eyes blazed some emotion. She withdrew a bit. Silence fell as she let Alisha extend her rest. It was weird. How Alisha came to dizziness that sucked her from falling back again.

(To be Continue...)

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