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Chapter One: The Silver Prince

The sun was hot, heavy on their skin as they worked in the field, and not for the first time did Jojen Marquette wish he was sitting somewhere in the shade right about now. They’d been at it for hours, moving from one end of the field to the other and there was still more to do.

He sighed, twirling the plough in his hand as he cast his gaze across the field, to the house standing alone in the middle of everything. A moment passed and there was silence for a while, his thoughts trailing into each other as he watched the house and wondered, wondered if this life was all he would have, it was a strange thought and it was for a moment an idea that seemed to linger for the longest second, before he pushed it aside.

“You're daydreaming again!” he heard a voice say suddenly.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to,” he confessed, turning a little his face tilted to the sun as he looked to the face of the young man who had spoken and he smiled a little, though for a long moment there was silence still.

It lingered, the silence growing stronger with each passing second and for a while at least, the silence seemed to continue unchallenged. It was odd, and for a moment or two, Jojen allowed himself to consider the thought before finally he smiled watching the young man again, his words soft, almost a whisper.

“I’m guessing the old man wants me to do something else?” he asked pausing for a moment. “Either that or have I finally done something right?” he said and the entire time he watched the young man waiting for the all too familiar reaction.

“That’s hardly fair, he’s your father too!” he said and Jojen could have sworn he was almost close to crying, though in truth he wasn’t sure.

“I’m an Elf, in case you hadn’t noticed, and your human. However I do live here at your father’s grace that is true,” said Jojen after a while and like every other time he could feel his hand reach, fingers brushing aside strands of pale silver hair as he touched the tips of his ears. Almost as if he were checking something.

A moment passed and he allowed his fingers to fondle the tips of his ears, a habit he had gotten into when he was young, and so far he hadn’t been able to change. Yet, somehow it made him feel better, and oddly it felt good.

Considering the thought for a moment he returned his attention back to the young man, who was likewise watching him and wondering.

“I’m fine Kayde, honest,” he said pausing for a brief second. “I swear I go quite for one second, and you’d think I was dying!” he laughed watching the young man for another moment as he shook his head, they laughed a little more before finally Jojen realized that they had been talking perhaps a little too long.

The sun was setting, the light was fading, and their small farm was growing darker by the second and only Jojen would be able to see when it got dark. He laughed, the thought lingering for a moment before he cast it aside smiling a little.

“The old man is probably wanting us back,” he admonished suddenly.

“True, but he’s also expecting the fields to be tilled, and they're not!” replied Kayde and Jojen had to admit the young man sounded more than a little panicked, this was odd since his human brother had never been panicked before.

Another moment and Jojen almost smiled, and he would have if it wasn’t for the sheer panic on the young man’s face that made him stop. He sighed, and for another moment there was silence as Jojen watched his friend considering then the thoughts racing through his mind and there was a strange stillness until finally, he spoke.

“You better get back to the old man,” he said laughing a little. “He hates when you're late,” he admitted and this was true, yet the old man didn’t seem to care much about him. The fact that he could come and go as he pleased, had always seemed strange to Jojen, though he had never had the courage to ask why.

He’d considered the thought before, but each time he had cast the thought aside. It didn’t matter, perhaps the old man was a fool he thought, but he was kind enough to take him in, and there was nothing Jojen could say to that.

A minute passed, and he realized after a second that he was alone, standing in the middle of the field and leaning somewhat lazily against the plough. The silence was heavy, and for the longest moment, there was nothing as he cast his gaze across the field, to the mountains and round again back to the house. It was too quiet.

Another second, and this thought seemed to linger for a while. The idea almost bouncing around his mind as his gaze focused on the house in the distance, he was just in time to see Kayde reach the door and he smiled a little.

“His house, not mine,” he muttered after a moment. It was an odd thing to say but somehow there was an odd weight to it, Jojen knew it was true even if he didn’t want to believe it and he couldn’t help but sigh a little. A long second passed, and he almost seemed to dwell on the thought before he sighed again the air rushing past his lips.

The sun had already set, the sky now filled with blotches of dark blue or purple and it was pretty if only in a dark sort of way and for a moment Jojen allowed himself to watch as the colours in the sky grew darker and the last of the light disappeared. Silence followed the breeze blowing through the field feeling cool.

Another second passed, and he worked, tilling the field and by the time he had done the moon had risen, resting almost lazily between two peaks of a solitary mountain and casting the land around him with an almost silvery glow.

It was strange, almost pretty, and even his hair pale as it was seemed beholden to the moon. An odd thought Jojen seemed to consider it for a moment, and for the longest second, he did nothing leaning somewhat lazily against the plough in his hand as he watched the moon, resting there like a great silver coin.

He stood staring, watching as the moon bathed the field in a pale, almost iridescent glow, and for what seemed like an eternity there was nothing only the eerie silence as he stood there watching, and the stillness was strange.

The thought lingered for a moment, before finally, he cast the thought aside. Throwing down the plough and making his way across the field though not to the house, instead, Jolen almost made a beeline for the barn, the structure forgotten by the old man, the perfect place he thought for a young elf to call his home.

A smile crossed his face, Kayde knew of the barn, as he knew of most things his elven brother did, and he had tried once. Tried to convince him to join them in the house at the heart of the field but kind or not Jojen knew his place. He could almost remember, the day the old man had taken him in, could almost remember another handing him over.

He thought about it for a moment, but the harder he tried, the harder the memory seemed to slip into the depths of his mind. There was another man with him that day, of this he was sure, and it had been many years before Jojen had the courage to ask, the question sudden, slipping from his lips as he ate at the table.

“F…father, who brought me to you?” he had said, all of six, a mouth full of soup and bread and Jojen could remember the silence, the feeling that perhaps he had said something wrong but then he remembered the old man smiling, before ruffling his hair. The thought lingered for a moment, as he continued to cross the field, a soft crunch beneath his feet.

Another second passed, and the barn drew closer and after another long moment, Jojen pushed the thought of the past from his mind, muttering something under his breath as he reached the rotting half-broken door, stepping inside.

It was warmer, which seemed odd given that the door of the barn was hanging from its hinge, and after a moment Jojen allowed himself to walk forward his steps creating the oddest sound as he moved across rotting boards. For some reason, the barn had been built with two levels, one above and one below. It was an odd thing, a barn with two floors that actually had three. The old man had abandoned the barn years ago, long before he had arrived.

He considered the thought for a moment, the idea racing around his mind, mores the pity he thought because although the barn was falling apart, it still had its uses.

Walking slowly he made his way from the open wall to the far end where steps led down and up. Muttering something under his breath he traced the familiar path up to his room, not a room in truth, but an open space where everything he owned lay on display.

A second passed, and Jojen allowed himself to laugh, he could count the precious things on a single hand, trinkets and other more useful things that he had been given or collected. Crossing the room in three shorts strides he sighed, the air leaving his lips as he dropped down to the straw-covered cot resting in the corner. Suddenly he was tired.

It was almost easy to forget that he’d been doing this since dawn, rising with the world and those with a diurnal bent, working with the sun as it crosses the sky until it falls returning the world to the darkness that seemed oddly familiar. His muscles ached, his skin, pale, was covered in sweat and there was some comfort about laying there doing nothing.

He allowed the minutes to pass, the ache to fade and for a while, there was nothing as he stared almost with a vacant expression toward the rafters, and everything was still. In truth, he liked the quiet, and the piece after a day in the field seemed oddly enough to be his default, and the thought made if only a little.

After a while, the silence almost seemed to sing. The lack of sound giving beauty, and for another moment Jojen allowed himself to consider this strange thought, continuing to stare up into the rafters until finally, he sat up. He yawned, stretched and after another moment he rose to his feet stretching again as he scratched the back of his head.

A moment passed, and he crossed the room as he did the first time, in three short strides until he reached the mirror standing in the corner, the glass was cracked, the frame was chipped but Jojen knew he could see himself just fine in the layer of treated glass.

Silence followed, and for a while, it was almost as if he could see nothing beyond the smoke of the glass, and then he smiled. There before him, stood a young man, eighteen, and by human standards, he was a man grown but he was an elf and eighteen summers were nothing in the grand scheme of things he thought.

For a second this idea seemed to linger and he continued to stare into the mirror, as he lifted his rough-spun tunic above his head and throwing it to the floor. He was tall, with narrow shoulders, and pale skin his shoulders slanting just a little, he had a runner’s build, or so Kayde had always said and he was more feminine than a man ought to be.

A second passed and he sighed, lifting his hand to pull the pin from his hair letting it fall like a shower of molten silver as it cascaded down his back, another second and he looked to the mirror again.

He had a heart-shaped face, his eyes almost almond shaped and they were the palest blue you might have ever seen, blow that rested a small but perfect nose, near perfect cupids bow and thin lips, that almost seemed pink in colour. His hair like liquid silver was long falling in a sheet, way down to the end of his back, and past his behind.

A second passed and for a moment he continued to undress, and a person might have thought he was a woman, his feminine figure giving no cause for them to dought their thoughts.

Jojen thought about this for a moment, the idea almost making him smile as he crossed the room again, naked and feeling the breeze on his skin as he reached the wardrobe. A pause followed and he pulled the door open, muttering something under his breath as he peered inside choosing his clothes before he withdrew.

Crossing the room he dropped to the cot throwing down the clothes as he dressed quickly, the moonlight was filtering weakly through the cracks in the barn, and for a moment there was nothing but the silence as he laced his boots pulling them into a neat knot before tucking them in and rising slowly to his feet.

“It’s too quiet!” he muttered the words slipping from his lips as he listened.

Pushing the creases from his tunic he made his way back to the stairs, listening all the while for the slightest sound, but there was nothing and Jojen had to admit, that it was a little unnerving to hear complete silence, when at least the rats ought to have made a sound.

Still, the silence continued, and as he reached the bottom of the stairs he listened, almost hoping to hear a sound he was sure to come. He had walked from the stairs and had reached only the centre of the barn when a crack filled the air, the sound sudden if brief as the space around him faded to silence once more.

He could feel the tension in the air, the silence had a strange life to it, and as Jojen made his way from the centre of the barn to the front, he couldn’t help but feel that maybe this, whatever this was could well be his worst idea. He sighed, the air rushing past his lips as he heard the sound again louder than before.

“Who’s there?” he said, his voice carrying in the silence, as he reached, his hand gripping the hilt of the dagger resting on the small of his back. “Answer me!” he said. “I’m armed and this is privet land!” he finished but still there was silence.

The silence was almost all-consuming, as he listened, waiting but then he saw something out of the corner of his eye, a hand reach for him in the darkness, but before it could he turned lunging forward. “UGH!” the sound was strange, oddly feminine, and with his hand pressing the person to the nearest post, he could feel them.

“Easy there, it's me, Vialah!” they said, and the words were almost musical. A second passed, and Jojen pulled away half smiling as he looked at the face of a girl, she looked a lot like him he thought, as all elves looked similar but she was unique, her skin dark as caramel, her hair like a raven’s feather and her eyes like living yellow sapphires.

There was a moment, as the silence returned stronger than before, and he was still smiling though he knew the old man wouldn’t be pleased if he saw her here again, and the thought lingered, the idea hanging in the back of his mind, as he leaned forward his head tilted ever so slightly as their lips met in a soft, sweet kiss.

#fantasy #love #elves #prince #novel #high-fantasy #chapter 1

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