Well, I was actually feeling slightly guilty for not posting. I like to keep up on my blogs, and as my NaNo is all that I've written - have a chapter. Just the one, though. The rest of it shall not be posted unless I am very much satisfied with the finished product. Anyways, without further ado,
Shadowed Eyes - Chapter One.
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Dust Fever
A thin, tall girl speeds down the dusty road, long blond pigtails flying out behind her. Passerby turn and look at her, eyes filled with compassion.
This girl is me.
The dull thudding of my feet is all I can hear as I run. Our village, a dry grassless place, becomes a tan blur as I cry silently.
The last house at the end of the row is mine. Simple, in the exact style of all the others, it’s nothing special. But little touches my mother Zena has added − a lovingly sculpted and painted flower here, a checked handkerchief on a windowsill here − make it home.
I notice none of these as I fling open the door, shake off my boots. To the left in the living room sits my father on the couch. He half-rises when he sees me, but gets no farther as I dash into his arms.
“Is it true, Dad?” I choke out.
He strokes my hair and nods. “It is.”
Our family is made up of me, Toki; my father, Nikko; my mother, Zena; and my sister, eight-year-old Rosuto. My worshiper. My greatest friend. We are four years apart, a sizeable difference for most siblings, but we are inseparable.
Now she’s sick with dust fever. Of all the illnesses she came down with dust fever. The one that doesn’t have a cure. A fatal illness you don’t recover from.
I bury my face in my father’s chest and sob. He waits for me to finish and then holds me away. “It’s going to be okay, Toki,” he says earnestly. “I know someone who can help.”
Tearing away from his loving grasp, I mutter, “It’s dust fever. No one can help.”
“But I know someone who can.”
My father doesn’t lie. If he knows someone who can help Rosuto, he knows someone. But I don’t know who he’s kidding. There’s no cure anymore. That vanished hundreds of years ago with the disappearance of the Lost. The Lost were the protectors of this world, Terra. They had certain powers, the specifics of which have long since lapsed into obscurity when the Elimination happened − when they were persecuted and killed for the Betrayal. The Betrayal too has lapsed into obscurity. The only thing that’s certain about them now was that those in training had gray eyes, those fully-realized had green eyes, and they had healing abilities. They alone could heal dust fever.
But does the past glory of the Lost matter anymore? Right here, right now, I have a sister who’s dying. “Can I see her?” I whisper.
“She’s in her room.”
I walk past the front door and up the hallway that leads past all of our bedrooms. Rosuto’s is the one in the middle. Her door is slightly ajar, and squeaks slightly when I touch it.
My mother is inside, offering Rosuto a drink. But my sister refuses when she sees me, round eyes lighting up. “Toki…” she says hoarsely. “You came…!”
Zena smiles at me tiredly and leaves the room, allowing me to be alone with Rosuto. I cross the room swiftly and kneel by the side of her bed. “Of course I came,” I say.
“I hope I didn’t interrupt your sleepover…”
My sleepover. I’ve nearly forgotten about it. I was sleeping over at my friend Mona’s house. Just ten minutes ago someone had come and informed me of Rosuto’s illness. I hadn’t checked who it was, being in too much of a rush, and now I wondered. Had Rosuto really just taken sick? She looked like she’d been this way for a while. “You didn’t interrupt anything,” I tell her, saving my questions for another time, another person. “It’s going to be okay.” The same lie my father had consoled himself with now fell from my lips. “Dad knows someone who can help…”
Rosuto smiles up at me, dark shiny hair framing her round face. “If…if Dad says it’s going to be okay…”
I lean close to hear her next words.
“…well, Dad is usually right…”
Dad is usually right? Oh, Rosuto, don’t you know how often people can be wrong? Aren’t you scared? Oh, Rosy, I’m scared…
My nose tingles and my eyes grow hot. I know I’m going to cry, but I can’t do it in front of Rosuto. Squeezing her hand, I flee the room, running into my own bedroom, flopping onto my bed, and again I cry.
