Chapter One

Halloween in Jorvik is always a fun time of the year. For many kids, it involves countless hours spent wondering what they're going to be for that year's spooky festivities. Trick or Treating. Bobbing for Apples. Corn mazes, Pumpkin everything. Haunted Tractor and trail rides. Exploring the Silverglade Castle's endless amounts of haunted rooms. The list, quite literally, is endless but that particular year, when I first arrived on the island, with no friends, no family and no horse, was the hardest. I was an outsider and the islanders are wary of outsiders. No one really knows why. But they seem to think we're going to take over their island. It's as if they've forgotten what their own Jarl did, decades ago. Upon arriving, I realized it was Samhain. I call it Samhain because I, myself, am a Pagan. A bonafide witch! It runs in my blood and is, quite literally, apart of who I am. I've always been 'gifted' with Second Sight and have often foreseen things before they've happened. Many of my peers back in Kentucky found me to be weird, peculiar was often a word aimed at me. I've never really been bullied but indirectly, it felt like they were judging me and bullying me with their whispered words, their not so secret glares, and the odd push or shove here or there. After one particular incident, my parents knew I couldn't handle much more of the torment and simply packed my things up and shipped me off to the Jorvik City International Airport. Yay me. A new place, a new start, you'll make new friends, all that dumb jazz was spewed by them. The reality is, even my own parents don't now how to handle me. I'm an odd witch. My grandma was odd too. A loner. She never did 'fit in' with the rest of the world and after nearly 20 years of raising a family, she packed her things up, bought a small cabin in the woods, and lived out her life there, surrounded utterly and completely by nature. She was gifted too. She had Second Sight and one day, pulled me aside and said "A great man from years ago, will someday become the father my son never was, to you." I never understood what she meant. My dad was a good dad, but....there were times when he'd look at me a certain way and I would get the impression he wished I was anything BUT a witch. As if I could control what the Hands of Fate gave me. So here I am, sitting in a small cafe, drinking a Pumpkin Spiced Latte and pondering just what the hell I'm to do next. I have a sizeable bank account that I saved up myself, so it's not like I'll go hungry or homeless, but...this isn't home. Everyone here is so damn cheerful, like they've forgotten that just outside the Island's boarders, wars are happening. People are dying. And not a single care is given. I don't understand it. I don't get it. Even their newspaper doesn't report on the worldly news and I don't get why. It's as if they live in a bubble and I really don't want to be apart of that. I sigh to myself. I guess I could find a place to live near where Valedale is. I've done some research and discovered some witches, druids they're called here, live. I dunno. Seems as good a place as any to start this wonky adventure. I do know one thing; I not only need a horse but want one. I heard there's horses out on South Hoof. That seems promising. But. I'm not sure. I soon spy a bus that says 'Heading to South Hoof' and after paying for my drink and buying a sandwich and a few apples, head out after grabbing my things and climb onto the bus. About an hour of travel later, and the bus stops at a rickety old bridge and climbing off, I wave, watching as it drives away. After making my way over the bridge, I come to stop when I realize that the smaller island of South Hoof is in fact, quite large. But the bridge prevented the bus from traveling any further. A good thing, I summarized as there was quite literally, no road from the mainland to the island. The island itself is as wild and untamed as I personally feel. But I realize, I'm not about to find any horses just by standing here, so off I trudge, with my suitcase in tow. All my other belongings would of made it to the small cabin I bought in Valedale hours ago, so I don't worry about those. It must be an hour when I hear the pounding of hooves and in the distance, I see equine bodies racing towards me. I don't realize I'm being watched by another human, my sole focus is on the horses that gallop together, united as a herd, towards me but then they veer sharply away. I know I should feel disappointment, but I don't. I'm relieved. I don't want to take from a wild herd and as I'm about to turn to head back to the bridge, I hear a sharp snort and turning around, I watch as a jet black stallion prances from the herd. He's a Dartmoor. A pony breed of largeish size but this boy is huge even for his breed's standards. I suspect he's got other blood in him. A mutt, I muse, just like me. I continue to watch him as he watches me, tossing his head, while his silky mane and forelock go flying about with his antics. I know he's not the lead stallion because the herd is well and truly out of sight now and I can barely hear their hoofbeats. This boy, I realize, is the herd's lieutenant. His lead stallion's second in command, but why hasn't he gone with the herd? Surely he doesn't think I pose much if any, risk to them now that they've galloped off. To my surprise, he charges towards me and remembering my mother's word, I stay calm but hold my ground and just when I think this advice isn't the best advice ever given, he slides to a halt, stamping a hoof as he does, and eyes me up. Up close, I realize he's got to be at most 13 or 14 hands high. He's tall for his breed but that's what makes him unique. And he's all black. No white on him. And then, as if the wind whispering over the vast plains that is the island, speaks to him, he moves to me and noses my right hand and smiling, I begin to rub his nose, tickling his lips with my fingers, while he lips at them. "Silly boy." I say, watching as his ear flicks to the sound of my voice. "You're a big fella, even for your breed. Are you a mutt? I guess it makes sense." I mumble, as he lifts his head to gaze at me. His eyes are filled with a gentle but fierce spirit. He's a pony whose seen so much hardship in his life, that I suspect he's about as done with it, as I was with my old life. Suddenly, I hear an elderly man speak. "Here. Take this. Ye'r gonna be needin it." Turning, I watch as a short, elderly man, thrusts a halter into my hands while at the same time, stepping back to watch what I'll do next. "Th..thanks?" I stammer. I don't like people much so I turn and rub the stallion on his neck. Slowly, ever so slowly, I slip the soft, leather halter over his neck. At first, I feel him resist when I go to lead him forward, but then, after about thirty seconds, he trudges alongside me, his head resting at elbow height. Slipping my left arm over his neck, I gently pull his head close to my side and offer him a hug. "What ye gonna name the beast?" Asked the elderly man as I glance to him before pausing to think. "Witchcraft." I say after several moments of silence. Hearing the old man grunt, I watch as he begins to walk away. "I'll call the ferry to come get yas'. Yer gonna be needin a lift I suspect to Pinta. From there, ye'll need to haul him to wherever it be that yer goin." He stated as I smile and glancing to Witchcraft, I watch as he glances at me. I swear we both roll our eyes. Three hours later, I arrive at my home in Valedale. Everything I own is inside but I'm surprised to find small gifts sitting outside on the front porch. A new saddle, saddle pad, bridle, leg wraps, bell boots, the whole works, are sitting in a tack box with his name engraved in gold lettering with a cat sitting on either side. Glancing about, I realize that just about anyone could of given us these items, but I have a hunch, the local druids did this. I simply smile and silently send a prayer of thanks to the Gods before I lead Witch into his stall. It's not much. It's a small shed like space with one box stall sitting further back from the main door. Next to the stall, is a smaller room, for his new tack, and inside, are four large bins, filled with the grains that he'll need eventually. It's here I also find several bags of shavings and other needed items for his keep. "You've arrived!" Hearing the female's cheerful voice, I turn, startled and watch as a red haired female walks into the small stable. "Er. Yes. About three hours ago. I think?" I reply as the woman smiles. "I'm Elizabeth. I heard from your mother, that you would be arriving, but then the truck arrived without you and we began to worry until the Hermit called and said you would be coming with a guest. I suspected you'd head to the Peninsula as that's what your grandmother, Evie did when she first came here." She states as I blink in surprise. My grandmother came to Jorvik? But she never said anything! Elizabeth must of seen the shock on my face because she smiles and gently says "She wanted to tell you but sadly, as a druid herself, she was forbidden to do so. We know what happens outside our Island home and we have our own fair share of troubles here, without dealing with off island troubles. We keep to ourselves so we can better help ourselves without relying on others." She explains as I nod, then smile when Witch bumps my shoulder with his nose. "I'll let you two get settled and Avis?" I glance up when she says my name. "Welcome to Jorvik and Happy Samhain." She says before leaving. Smiling, I shake my head, get Witchcraft settled into his stall and then head into the house. Inside, it's quiet, so I put my iPod on and it's while I'm listening to my Halloween Lofi playlist, that I get the odd sensation of being watched. Heading to a window, I peer out into the darkness of the woods that lie just beyond the house's backyard and it's here, I catch a glimpse of a fiery tail. I frown. What could it of been? Who could it of been? I guess I'll find out come morning!