Cree’s feet whispered softly through the bejeweled grass. The cold dew of early morning clung to her ankles. The sun would rise soon.
The sun would rise soon… This thought spurred her on faster towards the cliffs looming eerily in the fading starlight.
Quickening her pace, she raced toward the rock face. At all costs, she had to reach the caves before the sun came up. If she were caught out in the daylight… she did not want to think about what might happen. All her life it had been pounded into her head. ‘You must never be caught out under the sun, Cree al’Terr. You must never feel the burn of its hateful glare. You are destined to a life of darkness, child, and you must never forget your place. All your ancestors were bound by this fate, and by the blood that runs in your veins, you are bound to it as well!’ Bound to it…
Panting, she had almost reached the safe harbor hidden in the rock. In all truth she should not have left the sanctuary. It was forbidden. But she had never been caught, and what the elders did not know wouldn’t hurt them, right? All she had wanted was to see the stars one last time. To gaze at the moon so as to emblazon it upon her heart so she could recall its soft light in the dark days to come. Tears blurred her eyes as she slipped into a cave, hidden by even the most observant eye in the cliff’s craggy face. She would never again feel the soft touch of the wind, or smell the freshness and life of the fields. She paused to pick the wet grass from the hem of her skirt. She stared at it.
It was so very ugly. Her skirt was made of a sickly gray color, as was the rest of her dress, and her leggings underneath. Her complexion was also a dull gray, from the bottom of her heel, all the way to her pointed ears. Her soft hair that was bound in a braid down past her waist was gray, but her eyes, they, they were a thing to marvel at. Unlike the gray eyes of the rest of her people, hers were gold. A brilliant, piercing, stunning gold that seemed to light up her drear complexion. They were the mirrors of a heart and mind so potent, that sometimes, others swore they could feel her eyes in them.
Once it was said that the eyes of Cree al’Terr could see the hearts of others, and read their waking thoughts the moment they came into their heads. Everyone was afraid of Cree to some degree or another. It was a fear born out of envy and hate. She was different, so she was worth despising. She was different, so she was worth envying.
The Shamar people had always feared change. Bound in the rusted chains of tradition, they balked at anything that was not as it had been for thousands of years. Strict rituals governed their underground way of life. Ruled by a long dynasty of seers and shaman, the people had fallen into a rigid lifestyle. It chafed. It weighted Cree down - she hated it.
Frustrated, she turned towards the gaping dark mouth that led into her subterranean home.
^_^ IMHO, it's very well done.
