Finding Answers: Chapter One
A Girl In Her Own World
"Mountains and all hills; Fruitful trees and all cedars"
It was a crisp morning, and the sky stretched overhead, painted in soft blues and streaks of gold. Clouds drifted lazily, unhurried, as though they, too, were savoring the beauty below.
Flowers bloomed along the winding paths, their petals swaying in the breeze, while evergreen trees bore ripe fruits that dangled like jewels. Butterflies flitted between blossoms, and rainbow-striped birds soared overhead, their melodies resounding through the air.
Nestled at the heart of seven towering mountains, Sion thrived in perpetual bloom. The cool air made it a sanctuary for plants and nature claimed every inch of the land. Cottages, stone houses, and even grander structures rose between the trees, their walls half-hidden beneath trailing vines and flowering creepers. The city and the wild had long since become one, the line between them blurred beyond recognition.
The people of Sion moved about, absorbed in their daily work; farming, fishing, mining. Their lives were slow, predictable, untouched by the concerns of the world beyond the mountains.
But one girl didn't quite suit this narrative, perched on the roof of a glass-roofed cottage at the city's outskirts, her green eyes followed the birds drifting across the endless blue. She envied them—not just their ability to fly to worlds unknown, but the way they seemed to belong effortlessly to the world around them.
She had never felt that.
A voice from below shattered her thoughts.
"Ruth!"
She flinched.
With a sigh, she climbed down the vine-laced ladder leading to a room on the ground floor of their home, which was reserved solely for brewing medicines. The air inside was thick with the scent of dried herbs and shelves lined with glass containers of varying sizes and different plants and spices in them.
Mary stood at the center of the room, her left hand on her hip, the other holding a woven basket.
"I need you to pick up some bri plants," she said as her fingers ran through her daughter's hair and added, "Also, there's a new medicine I want to try, but I'm not sure about the measurements."
Ruth brightened instantly. "Oh! Maybe I could help!" Nothing thrilled her more than a new experiment; whether it was out on the road or in a simmering pot of herbs.
Mary smiled but hesitated. "Yes, you can. There's a book in the Archives that can help me. Please be a darling and help me borrow it."
Ruth stiffened.
She should have known.
Her mother had been trying, unsuccessfully, to get her to interact with people for a month now. Babysitting her cousin had been a disaster, the boy had nearly swallowed a coin, and now she was banned from their house. The last time she was sent to the Miner's Market, she had wandered off, gotten lost and somehow arrived only when the stalls had already closed which in all honesty wasn't entirely accidental.
And now, the Archives.
Ruth sighed as Mary scribbled directions and instructions onto a piece of brown paper and handed it over.
"Be careful," her mother added.
Ruth nodded absentmindedly before setting off. She had a few plans of her own.
The journey wasn't long, but Ruth had a habit of making it longer, her feet drawn to less-traveled routes.
She liked it that way. Every little trip felt like an adventure; an excuse to get lost in her thoughts, to imagine a world where she wasn't constantly aware of the way people looked at her.
She was lighter-skinned than the rest of Sion's people, a trait inherited from her father. It set her apart, made her different in a way no one ever let her forget. Even when they weren't speaking, she felt it in their stares.
So, she avoided them.
Ruth soon arrived at Briskly Waterfalls to pick up the bri plants that only grew around the waterfall's edge for some strange reasons. The falls tumbled down a seven-foot rock formation, cascading like silver threads into the clear pool below. Pines flanked either side, their branches intertwining to form a natural canopy.
She knelt by the water's edge, dipping her fingers into the cool depths for a drink. The liquid sent a shiver up her arm, its crispness refreshing against the midday warmth.
Then she heard it, a crack—
Ruth's breath hitched.
She froze, listening.
Another crack. Closer this time.
Her fingers curled into fists. Few people came here at this hour. And no one should have been moving through the thick undergrowth instead of the open path.
The rustling grew louder. A branch snapped.
Ruth turned sharply.
The bush to her right trembled, the leaves parting as someone, or something, stepped through.
She barely had time to react before her gaze locked onto a pair of eyes...
And they were the most striking pair of green eyes she had ever seen.
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