Shae's Broken Story

[Shae]

Tiny, black-green eyes watched as two figures, blurred but important, left a little girl in a wicker basket and silken clothes by the side of the road.

She watched them leave the baby there, to die, or be found, or what else they did not know would or could happen. The smaller of the two figures leaned into the other, and made noises similar, though more muffled than the ones the child was making in her basket.

Why were they leaving the child by the side of the road? Did they not want the child? There was nothing visibly wrong with her, she was a baby, an adorable, lovable, little baby girl who needed love and care.

She cried louder, hoping these important people would come back, and hold her, and feed her, and take the wetness away.

But they would not. She did not know this, did not know anything of why she was being left out here in the cold.

It rained that night, and the baby with the black-green eyes could only cry and hope someone would hear her, and take her into the warm and dry.

At last, another figure, blurred also, but making pleasant cooing noises came, and picked up the girl in the wicker basket.

The figure carried the basket close to it's body, and after some bumps, there was light, and warmth, and it was dry.

There were more sounds that the baby girl did not understand. But in time, she would learn to make them as well, as she would learn many things.

A soft voice said, in warm, melodic tones "What story will you tell when you grow up I wonder? She will need a name, Dorin."

"I know it, Carla." Said a more harsh, masculine voice, though the girl did not understand it in those ways.

"She looks, shadowed. See? In her eyes." A younger voice pointed out. "Why don't we call her Shadow?"

It was not a proper name, but it stuck. The baby girl that had been left by the side of the road became known as Shadow, further, she had been found by the fortune teller. So to the gypsie caravan that had picked up the well dressed baby girl by the side of the road came to know her as Shadow Tell.

In time, she would know herself by this name, and would look to the people around her as her family.

~ More To Come ~

[Shae]

The letter had reached the caravan not long after the girl with the black-green eyes had turned six.

When the old fortune teller had read it to her son, and daughter-in-law, who had adopted the little girl. The family sighed with understanding.

"When I'm gone, will you turn my wand into a sword for her Dorin? I want her to take care of it." Carla said, as she folded away the letter.

When the caravan had left the girl at the gate to Romania's School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, three weeks later, they had promised that they would keep in touch, and send gifts when the occaision called for it.

It was a boarding school, and the little girl who had lived on the road for all of her short life took an instant disliking to the stone walls of the building.

Carla left her adopted granddaughter with one passing sentiment. "You must strive to obtain that which at first beyond your reach."

Did the old fortune teller know that the little girl, who loved to climb, would strive to attain spells that were supposed to be beyond her?

Years passed, and the girl's only contact with her Romany familywas letters and one gift.

The girl wrote to the caravan about bullies she had told off, and classes she was enjoying, and how her hair had turned purple. And she received letters written collectively by the whole caravan.

On her tenth birthday, a long, thin package arrived at the school for her. A simple note said "Carla wanted you to have this." It was a beautifully crafted sword, and the girl could feel the strength of the whole caravan in it.

She carried it with her from then on, and learned how to use it.

Nightmares still came. A dark, cloaked figure leaned over her, and told her how many times she had avoided death that day. Sometimes the list was long, sometimes, it was mercifully short.

One day, after she had carefully dissected a frog, and the table it was lying on with an incantation she had almost perfected, she was sent to the principles office.

[Shae]

"Shadow," began the Headmistress. "I'm sorry dear, but for the last six years your private studies have been increasingly dangerous, and you are scaring a lot of the other students. Both the younger and the older ones."

The girl with the newly purple hair and black-green eyes just sat there, waiting for the boredom to pass.

"Perhaps you need a change of scenery."

The words jarred the girl back into reality. She had never liked this school, but she had never thought they would send her away.

The people here didn't want her.

The day her sword had arrived, the girl had forgotten how to laugh, when she had turned ten, she became stone-like, and cold to those around her.

"You are very capable, Shadow. It's just that for our school, you seem a little too capable, and you don't listen enough."

So, she would be a lost cause if she stayed in Romania. It wasn't good enough!

Her parents had left her, she had been forced away from the gypsies to come here, and now, these people were sending her away.

She walked out of the Headmistress' office calmly, and went to pack her things. She only muttered one word the whole time she was readying to leave.

"Pox." The rest of the curse just went through her mind repeatedly.

By the time Shadow Tell had reached Magic Horizons, her old headmistress had come down with a serious case of small pox.

And so began her life at Magic Horizons.

[Maí Lé Rosà]

Simply adorable.

I love Shae.

Always have, always will. ^. ~ xx

[Mandalah]

Oooh. 'Tis very intruiging, I liked it.

*nodnod*

(Yay for responses from random newbs...)

[Shae]

Thank you. I think I ought perhaps to fill in some smaller details, a day in the life, perhaps, I'm not sure.

Yes, a day in the life. I'll get back to this tomorrow with a day spent figuring out her average day.

[Shae]

Okay. Shae's tenth birthday.

------------------------------

She rolled over in her bed, she had thrown of the quilt in the night, and was lying only half under the top sheet. If it had been summer that might be normal, but it was winter.

It was, she realised when she looked at the calendar next to her bed, the winter solstice. The Caravan had found her on the winter solstice, so she celebrated her birthday on it, she didn't care if it wasn't the same day every year, it was the same part of the year, that was what counted really.

The year knew it was her birthday, so did she, and so did the Caravan. That was all that really mattered.

Groaning as she rose from her bed, the now ten-year-old girl dressed in her small room, and stuck her hair up in so many pins that would only fall out all over the school during the day. Somehow they always ended up back in her room. Her hair had turned purple two weeks ago, one of her classmates had meant it to be cruel, but Shae had liked it, and kept it.

She had a room to herself now, it was the result of a small incident a few months ago, involving an experimental spell and a room-mate's pet rat. The truth had come out that the girl herself wasn't happy about what had happened to the rat.

"It shouldn't have died like that," she had explained to the headmistress of the School in Romania. "It should have turned to steel, not stone."

And now she was ten. Other students would receive a small cake or something with their breakfast when they turned ten, the house elves, it was said, enjoyed baking cakes, but the girl knew she wouldn't.

It was part of a punishment for hexing her history teacher. He'd gotten a few details wrong about gypsies, and she hadn't let him forget it in a hurry.

Dressed and ready to face the world, not caring if it hid it's face or stared back, Shae walked down to the Mess Hall, ready to eat. Maybe there would be mail, the caravan always wrote her on her birthday.

There was mail. The owl carried a letter, and a long, thin package. They'd never sent gift's before. She read the letter first, resisting the urge to reach for the parcel or her wand. When she had finished her toast, cereal, porridge, and bacon, the girl with the flashing black-green eyes took up the parcel and headed back to her room.

It was Sunday, so there were no classes she had to go to, there was church, and she would go there later. Some things needed to be said, but for now, the girl kept herself to her room.

The girls in the room next door heard her scream and cry and the clatter of the girls more dangerously unperfected spells.

When she stepped out of her room again, the girl was wearing a gypsy tumbler's outfit, she had made it herself, working from memory. There were patterns on it that weren't in the tumbler's style, but tumblers didn't usually carry swords.

The girl headed for the church in the town that was down the road, ignoring the way some of the mother and fathers in the street held their dear children closer.

No one had ever done that for her.

She walked up the isle of the church until she was at the alter, where she knelt and began to pray in a quiet voice, softer than a whisper really.

For two hours the girl knelt in prayer, before standing up and at last leaving the church, dropping a few coins into the Poor Box, she knew the poor didn't get all the money in there, but enough went to them that she gave a little every week.

That day marked a change in Shae. She became colder, less inclined to join in, and even more studious. Every subject she took, she learned as much of it as she could, sometimes she took the time to learn a little more that the teacher would have liked her to know just yet.

[Thalia Heybern(quit)]

Mmm, better and better. You're a very good storyteller. As befits a gypsy. ;D Encore! Give us more!

By the way, methinks I should re-design your sword. You said it was long, thin and ornate. So I should probably make it so, eh? ^^; Moorish steel, perhaps? Silver, with a bluish sheen?

[Maí Lé Rosà]

Simply stunning as always.

I like how you break the sentences up, but still keep style. Makes it enjoyable to read, and still catchy enough to follow.

^. ~ xx

[Teagan]

-Dedicatedly reads about Shae's past- I think it's good that you're writing something like this, you know, all in one place. It's a story about a character I've role played with--though I was absolutely terrible at the time. Quite an interesting read, Shae.

[Shae]

How Shae’s hair turned purple.

------------------------------

It had been in Defence Against the Dark Arts class, and Shae had been wearing her simple brown hair out, a few natural curls and waves making it look pretty, and they had been learning about spells for general defence.

General defence against – and the teacher had given this example – against another wizard, or an unknown enemy.

That day’s spells had included confundum, extritartus, expeliarmus, and jugulus. Confusion, extraction, disarming, and strangulation.

Then she had felt the tingling at the roots of her hair. She didn’t even turn, she just pointed her wand over her shoulder and muttered “Rectus revulo.” She smiled when she heard someone vomiting several desks behind her.

“Miss Tell, I will thank you when you let him stop vomiting. He only turned your hair purple, an easily reversible spell for you. He will have extra homework as punishment for letting himself be distracted. I know you weren’t, so I will give you five minutes during your lunch hour during which you and I will talk.” Professor Thistle had said, tapping each Shae’s desk and the young man’s with his wand, making sure they heard him.

“Yes, Professor.” Shae said, sighing, flicking her wand over her shoulder again, the satisfying sound of vomit hitting the floor stopped.

“Thank you.” And class had ended.

“Would you like me to clean up the mess he made Professor?” Shae asked, turning to look at both the boy – Seine – and Professor Thistle. Only Seine saw the glint in her eye that spoke of further revenge.

Professor Thistle nodded absently.

“Reverso.” Shae hissed, smiling dangerously, and the pile of half digested food began to rise, clearly heading for Seine’s mouth.

“Null.” Came Thistle’s voice, much to Seine’s relief. “Swallowing bile unhealthy, it can damage the throat, and make you even more sick.” He explained as the pile fell back to the floor. With another flick of his wand, Seine’s rather hearty breakfast disappeared, the smell with it.

“You will not do that again, and neither will any of you.” Thistle said as the class broke up to try and enjoy their lunch after that particular display. A task that would be harder for some than for others.

“Shadow, I’ll have that word with you now please.” Thistle said, walking back to his desk and sitting down in his comfortable chair.

Once she had tapped the black board into a reflective surface and decided that the purple hair did in fact look good, she gave all of her attention to one of her favourite teachers.

“Don’t do it again in my class Shadow, but well done for knowing how. You’ll scare your examiners when your time comes. Now go and eat.”

Shae smiled and headed to eat with all the excitement of a nine year old who knew she was getting away with being not exactly nice.

[Teagan]

Yay! More stories..

[Rezna Lardale]

This is great. Shae's story is unique and intriguing. Really, Thalia was right, you're a wonderful story teller.

I can't wait to hear more about Shae. Oh, and I have to second everything Mai has said about your writing and such.

Add me to your fan list.

[Shae]

Why she was abandoned.

------------------------------

The young woman was raped, and left at the door of her parent’s house. The maid’s found her and brought her in, and the doctor was called.

Eventually, the verdict was that she was physically well, though mentally disturbed due to the encounter. No one blamed her, and everyone had sympathy for the girl.

Then came the shocking news that she was pregnant due to the rape incident. When the young woman found this out, it seemed to make her feel better about it all, and her parents wouldn’t do anything to risk their only daughter’s happiness at this moment.

The decision was that the child would be kept, the pregnancy endured, and the possibility of life given its chance.

For nine months the young woman stayed in her room, tended by the maids, and visited regularly by a midwife.

Then the labour began.

It was painful, as all labours were. It was bloody, as some labours were. And the mother died, as happens too often when she is young.

The real trouble was not that the child had lived and the young woman had died; though it grieved many people to have lost her. The real trouble was that, despite being a rich and rather modern family, they believed heavily in omens and portents.

And the child had eyes that were so green they were black. Just a baby, a small girl, but everyone felt that something heavy and dark would come upon her soul.

They had no idea that it would be partly their own doing.

The servants dressed the child well, and laid her carefully in a basket, and the child’s grandparents took her, and left her by the road. Feeling that it had to be done, but still not wanting to.

The child lay there, a cried to be held. She cried, and wriggles, and bawled, until she was held again.

[Teagan]

It's getting even more interesting...