In the early light, his coat was dark and glossy. Apollo was a thoroughbred and was by far my favorite horse in the barn.  He had proven long ago that he was sure footed and good tempered.  “Are you ready for a ride?” I greeted him quietly, gently brushing down his broad neck. I scratched between his eyes, as he nodded his head up and down enjoying the attention. “Maybe I can find something for us to jump today.” I whispered to him before I climbed up into the saddle. There was true trust in our relationship, formed through years of riding together.  He had never let me down.  “Good morning Sinclaira! You are ready to go?” said a jovial voice nearby with a subtle french accent. My riding instructor, Jaques, already on his horse, walked toward me.  I smiled. “Good morning! Yes, we’re ready. I think Apollo enjoys this kind of weather.” I said and patted his neck.  We rode along side by side down the usual path, passing lush green fields with wooden fences. The morning fog was still heavy in the air making it hard to see even a few paces in front of us, unusual, the fog normally lifted by this time of day. We reached the ring on the far side of the barn and after a brief warm up, we set off into the field together. As soon as we were out of sight of the barn I urged Apollo faster. Jacques was not far behind. The wind whipped strands of my hair as we rode through the grassy expanse.  The exhilaration warmed my cheeks, even as the heavy mist made the air damp. I scanned the path ahead for any fallen trees or fence lines we could turn into a makeshift jump. Jacques hated when I did this, but I loved the thrill and he was falling further behind me.  Apollo was his usual sure-footed self, as we moved with speed across the fields.  We slowed as the mist became even thicker, making it hard to see even a few feet in front of me.  Suddenly a fallen tree appeared out of nowhere through the mist and I felt Apollo rise off the ground just in time.

We landed on a small lane and were now standing in the middle path.  Apollo looked down the lane and he faltered slightly, distracted by something moving farther down the path.  I followed his gaze down the foggy lane, straining to see anything. Something was moving in the mist, a large shape.  Even through the mist it’s shadowed figure was as big as Apollo. It had to be another horse, but where was the rider?  The shape stepped closer to us the fog shimmering and shifting in the light. It stepped close and I saw it for what it was. It was a beautiful creature with a slick coat the color of midnight. But it wasn’t a horse. Rising up from it’s shoulder blades was a set of huge magnificent and leathery wings, the tips dragging along the ground.  It’s mane and tail flowed in thick tendrils nearly touching the ground. This was not the winged horse of stories, this creature was something between equine and dragon. It was frightening and enchanting all at once. It stamped it’s hooves and then reared up pawing the air between us, the wings fanning out, spanning the entire laneway. My heart set to racing. Impossible. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing, and as I argued with myself about reality, the beast stared at us for a moment, and then turned and galloped off into the mist and disappeared from view.  Not even a moment could have passed.  Apollo was staring after where the creature had disappeared, but we seemed to be in agreement that we would not be following after it.  Quickly, I turned Apollo back the way we had come, and he willingly jumped the fallen tree again. Once I calmed my racing heart I should have felt fear, but instead I felt a strange desire to go back, to follow it. The fog was much less back in the field. Glancing behind, I found that the tree was gone, the lane was gone, and nothing but field stretch out behind us. Suddenly Jacques came riding up to us through the mist, “Sinclaira, where did you go?” He startled me, “We were standing on the lane, back there,” I got out, but then realized there was nothing behind me, as a looked over my shoulder for the second time. Jacques was giving me a strange look. “There’s no lane out here.  There’s nothing but wilderness and fields.” he said, looking concerned.  Before I could speak again he said, “I’ve been looking for you, I thought something happened. We should head back.” I nodded, deciding not to say more. “Are you alright Sinclaira?” Jaques asked me, scrutinizing my face as we walked side by side.  I was shaken up, but even still, I felt a burning curiosity to know more.  “Just chilled from the damp air.” I responded; a lie.  We got back to the barn and I was still thinking of the dark winged creature. “Sinclaira, you’re pale, you should get inside and warm up by the fire.” Jacques said to me as I dismounted in front of the stables. I nodded and handed Apollo off to a stablehand into the barn. I walked back to the manor in a daze. 

I didn’t know what to do, but I did know I could speak of what I had seen to no one.  Anything that would make me appear abnormal would be regarded as unacceptable.  I knew what I was supposed to be aiming for, what we were all aiming for; perfection.  Seeing winged creatures on my morning ride and telling someone could derail everything.

The rest of the day dragged on through calligraphy, history, and politics. By my afternoon lessons I had done my best to convince myself the entire experience was a hallucination from lack of sleep.   As usual I spent the day preparing for my future and only when the shadows grew long did I ever get a moment to myself.  When the clock chimed 430 and I was done, I left the library before anyone else. I practically ran for the door and couldn’t wait to get down to the causeway, a secluded little cove that few people seemed to know about, and no one visited. My favorite haunt. The place where I could forget the future, the pressure, the expectations, and just watch the water move in and out. Where the sounds of the waves washed away any other thought. Today, it would be my refuge for the thoughts I couldn’t shake, because, deep down, no matter how hard I tried to convince myself otherwise, I knew it wasn’t just a hallucination.

✤✤✤

The staircase down, was tucked into the steep hill and unless you knew where to look, it was hidden completely. The rocky wet steps and sharp edges, descended into a hidden entrance to the beach, wrapped into the edge of the shore.  I found this path when I first arrived at the manor and for the past three years it has been my escape. There were many things I would miss when I left for New York, but this secret spot especially.  This was a place that wasn’t formal or educational, in fact, it was the opposite of all that, it was magical.  A word and concept that was never mentioned or discussed in my day to day life.  The best part was, I had never seen a soul here, it was my own personal sanctuary.  I walked down to the shore and the sun was low in the sky, nearly touching the water.  It would be too dark to walk along the water’s edge soon, but a short visit here was better than none at all.  I cherished this time alone, and lately it meant more to me than ever as all of my other time was spent preparing for my soon-to-start life in New York. Today I appreciated the walk and the landscape in a new way, I let the shock of the morning wash over me.  Whether I hallucinated the creature, or not, it had shaken something loose inside me. Perhaps it was nostalgia for the life I was leaving behind, but whatever this strange sensation inside me was, it knew that creature, half horse and half dragon, was real. I relived the moment, my heart beginning to quicken. The path was so familiar I didn’t have to think about where I was going. I moved along the edge of the rocks down to the water. As I began walking along the shore an uncomfortable rift was forming in my chest. I had seen something that shouldn’t have been possible, but I knew it was real and I had no one to tell. My whole world felt like a spool of yarn unraveling.  A wave crashed onto the shore with a thundering sound, bringing me back to the moment, and I realized that I couldn’t be honest without someone thinking I was crazy. No one would believe me. The only thing that would happen is losing my standing as one of the most eligible. The realization crashed onto me; I was simply being groomed to fit a role, my life wasn’t my own. My opinion or experiences wouldn’t be taken seriously.

I knew it was true as soon as the thought entered my mind, but before it could sink in, before I could dwell on it, there was movement down the shore.  I’d never seen another soul here, but tonight I wasn’t alone.  In the distance I could see someone walking toward the far cliff where the beach ended. They were a good distance ahead of me, and must have come down here a short time before I did. There was only one path up or down. The far side was a solid rock wall that joined against the beach and the cliff dropped straight into the water, leaving only jagged edges for the water to pound against.  They would have to come back this way, we would have to pass each other.  I felt a thrill of exhilaration, a twin to the feeling of this morning. When I should have felt fear, I felt curiosity. The fading light made it hard to see the far edge of the beach, which, given the distance, was difficult enough to see on a clear day.  Picking up my pace I tried to cover more ground before the sun set.  I made it all the way to the end of the beach, right up to that tall cliff that fell straight into the water, but the stranger was gone. No sign of anyone, and any footprints had already faded into the sand.  I was alone.

✤✤✤

  I returned just after darkness fell and the manor was quiet. Although my body went through the motions of opening the door and entering the foyer, my mind was far away.  The idea of explaining both the creature and the stranger confirmed the truth that crashed upon me at the cove.  Everything felt unfamiliar as I stepped out of the foyer into the hall. I felt like a stranger in my world. I vaguely heard a fire crackling down the hall, the sound registering even with all the thoughts tumbling through my head.  It was coming from one of the sitting rooms. I collected myself as I walked toward the sound.  We usually gathered here in the evenings, about 10 girls to each sitting room. Some played board games, some read, and if a few of the rooms I could hear quiet conversations. My closest friend Lily, was sitting by the fire sketching flowers from the garden.  “Did you have a good day Sinclaira?” she asked me looking up from her work. Lily’s soft smile was comforting. “Yes, it went by quickly.” I didn’t have to lie, I did have a good day.  It was the most exhilarating day I had ever had, even if I was now questioning everything, but I kept that part to myself.  She nodded and went back to her drawing. Lily and I never had to make conversation. After three years here together we could sit comfortably in silence. Thinking about how much had changed in one day, in the last hour even, it was amazing to know that to look at me, no one would know.  Before today I never gave a thought to being outside the realm of what was acceptable, and now I was looking in from the outside. I was sitting in my seat, in my world, and yet, I was somehow a stranger here. The black grate of the fire screen reminded me of the black glistening coat of the creature. How the light seemed to sparkle on it, as though the creature’s coat and hide were woven from gilded thread. It had just faded into the mist. Like the stranger at the causeway.  There was no explanation for either, they defied logic and reason.  I stared at the flames within the ornate fireplace feeling that strange piece of me that surfaced.  A small piece of my personality, a place that had been dormant, was now very awake.  I felt the edges of this internal discovery, savoring it’s newness and yet, it was the rediscovery of something. Familiar and yet foreign, as if the strange occurrences had woken up magic within me. This new place inside myself felt ancient and crafted from some substance beyond my human body, a piece made of stardust.  “Sinclaira, are you going to stay up a while longer?” The words broke my focus and I found my Lily standing in the doorway, looking at me. The room was empty, everyone else had gone to bed. I hadn’t even noticed them leave. She was still waiting for a response, “No, I’m going to bed.  I didn’t realize how tired I was.” and the words were more true than ever.

✤✤✤

The smell of gardenias caught my attention, as I looked around the beautiful garden. Large trees lined the edges of the property.  The sun was shining through a blue sky, warming my skin, and there wasn’t a cloud to be seen.  Slowly, I turned around and was looking at a pristine pool.  Beyond the pool, a home stretched out, the color of burnt caramel. Curved terracotta tiles covered the roof giving the impression this home had been picked up from the Italian countryside and set down in this spot.  As I stood in the garden I could see a man through the windows of the house.  Even from this distance I could see he was standing at a counter, cooking.  Peace and kindness spread through me and my heart warmed; the feeling of love. A love so pure and deep, it ran through my blood, through my bones. I knew him. His name was just out of reach, but I knew him. I tried to grasp it, but it floated maddeningly out of my head as I attempted to recall it. Drawn to him, I walked toward the house. I moved around the edge of the pool and through a set of french doors into a living room.  A living room that I had decorated, I realized, which distracted me from the pull that had brought me into the house. It was dotted with little trinkets I remembered finding in hidden antique shops. The pieces of my memories began fitting together in my mind, tumbling into place all at once.  This was my home, our home. The man was my husband, we were newly married. I then remembered what had brought me into the house and moved on instinct toward where I knew the kitchen was. I walked into the room, the memories of our life tucking themselves into place in my mind.  His eyes lit up as soon as he saw me and a joyful smile spread across his face, as the final piece in the puzzle of my mind clicked into place.  My heart fluttered.  I smiled back at him and heard myself saying, “Are you making my favorite again?” He winked at me. “I wanted to surprise you.” he responded, and the warmth in my chest accelerated into a fire. Could I ever feel anything more wonderful than the way I felt about this person in front of me?  I threw my head back and laughed, closing my eyes and smiling at the feeling of pure love within me. 

✤✤✤

The dream was still on my mind hours later.  It had been too real.  Instead of fading, the dream felt like memories from another time and place. They fit into my mind so seamlessly. Even now, walking the narrow path down to the water, the dream was still vivid.  The day had been a blur but the memories were crystalline.  One minute I was standing in the kitchen of a house I that was mine and the next I was waking up in my bed at school in Ireland. The details swirled in my head, the living room, the sunlight, and the love I had felt. A love that had felt strong enough to move mountains.  I was only half aware of my surroundings as I made my way to the cove and I didn’t see him until I almost ran into him. 

I rounded the corner at the bottom of the path and he was standing right there.  He heard me at the same moment I saw him and turning his face at the sound, our eyes met. Vibrant green stared back at me. He looked as shocked as I felt, maybe more so. His eyes locked onto mine and I registered the vibrant green. Neither of us looked away.  It didn’t feel possible.  There was a ringing in my ears, like a warning bell, but still my eyes held his.  I was sure I had never seen him before, but the place within me that had newly been awoken, forced me to pause, as though I did know him.  Neither of us said a word. I had spent years of training, honing my ability to be articulate and yet this stranger had rendered me silent. Say something, the small part of me, the place of magic, said.  I don’t know if it was shock from this new part of me speaking up, or from this stranger in my cove, but I found my voice.  I said exactly what was on my mind, “Were you here yesterday?” Definitely not the most polite thing to start with, but something was better than nothing. I noted that my etiquette was clearly not as drilled into me as I thought when caught off guard.  The wind gently played through his dark hair, the expression of shock morphed and he smiled at me.  He looked at me for a moment, the smile playing on his lips, as though debating whether or not to answer.  Finally he said, “Yes, I live nearby.” in a sure, even voice. Quiet confidence filled the air around him. His voice was rich and steady, like a river that knows it’s course. As the words left his lips, the air became charged. It felt as if a storm was coming. He noticed it; there was a slight change in his eyes.  My curiosity was clearly going to continue to overrule three years of training as I found myself speaking again. “Who are you?” I asked. My patience had been dedicated to trying to work out what was happening between the dream and the creature. Now I just wanted to know who this stranger was coming to my cove. Our gaze stayed locked and I wondered if he was going to answer. After what seemed like minutes he spoke. “My name is James Evers” he said with the same clear voice and now there was a strong look of curiosity fixed in his eyes. He looked just as curious about me as I felt about him.  I had never been so wildly transfixed by another person in my life, I immediately wanted to know more about him. All my time was devoted to studying, preparing for my life across the ocean. I only knew the other girls at the manor and the staff. When we occasionally went into the small town nearby, I had seen a few locals, but if I had seen him before I would remember it. Nothing about James was “forgettable”.  Not even a moment had passed.  He was looking at me with an amused expression.  Focus, focus I kept telling myself, his presence was beyond distracting.  It dawned on me that he didn’t have the familiar lilt to his voice that all locals had; he wasn’t Irish. “Are you new here? Your accent doesn’t sound local.” He kept the smirk on his face as he spoke, “Observant. Relatively new, we’ve been here about 3 years.  I didn’t realize coming here would involve an interrogation.” I felt a slight heat in my cheeks as I realized I had been questioning him, and it wasn’t actually my private beach.  On the verge of saying something I would likely regret, he saved me the trouble by speaking first, “It seems I’m blocking your path,” he moved aside to let me pass. Keeping eye contact I moved around him. Before I had passed entirely he quietly said, “Would you like to walk together?”  He was staring at me with an open expression.  I knew better than to accept invitations from strangers, but this person didn’t feel like a stranger, in fact, James felt like the opposite. I knew better, I should have walked away as soon as I saw him, but that piece of magic, like stardust within me, was becoming an instinct. I followed the nudge like a guiding light. It gave me the sensation in my stomach that I’d never been safer.  It felt strangely natural to be standing here with him. The unprecedented trust I felt towards him unnerved me more than finding a stranger here. We had just met yet I couldn’t shake off the feeling that I had seen him somewhere before. He hadn’t moved. He was waiting for an answer. “That would be fine.” was the vague response I gave him and he gestured for me to lead the way.  He fell in step beside me and asked, “Have you been coming here for a while?”  The part of my mind that had been educated for years on etiquette and formalities clicked into gear. I turned to answer his question, my training at my fingertips, but I was caught off guard by his eyes. They had been a vibrant green, but now they seemed to be shimmering, the color of them moving as liquid. As I stared into his eyes I could see them shifting and blending, moving from a vibrant green to a subdued mossy shade. Completely transfixed on his eyes I remembered I owed him an answer, “Yes, but I’ve never seen anyone else here before.” I wanted to ask him why I had never seen him here before, but he sensed my question without me having to ask it outright. “I usually walk the beach on the other side of those cliffs.” he told me with a casual shrug as though that explained everything. As far as I knew, there was nothing on the other side of those cliffs, except another stretch of beach that ended at the ruined remains of an old castle. The closest town was near those ruins. Maintaining eye contact I asked him, “You live in the town then?” and he nodded, but then added, “Near there.” The feeling that had been hanging in the air intensified, as though a current was moving through it. It slid along the skin of my arms, and made me shiver.  The intensity drew my attention and we were silent for a moment, as though we were both feeling the strange current in the atmosphere between us. It was unlike anything I knew. The sun was lower in the sky than I realized, where had the time gone?  Dusk would be falling soon. “I should turn back, it’s easier to make it up the path before dark.” I told him. He smiled, “I don’t mind heading back,” he said, turning as I did and we retraced our steps. “Do you have a long walk home?” I asked him as we neared the steep path up the cliff again. “It’s not too bad, it’s faster than you would think,” his words were casual, but his tone made it sound like he found it amusing.  We were at the top of the path before I realized and the beach was far below us.  The air was practically humming around me now, ratcheting up in intensity. A storm had to be coming.  The space felt so charged that I wondered if I could cause a spark just by touching something.  The feeling made me lightheaded, as I met his eyes again. “Will you tell me your name?” He looked at me with intent, and I was sure the air between us could have ignited. I debated not telling him my name, but I wanted to tell him. I wanted him to know who I was.  “Sinclaira” I said, holding his gaze.  “Sinclaira,” he repeated back to me, and as my name left his mouth lightning carved down the sky and struck somewhere out at sea and instantly my gaze was pulled out to the dark waters.  The lightning had lit up the sky and the water, it was so vibrant and full of motion, but as fast as it appeared it faded.  When I looked back toward him, he was gone, as though he vanished with the lightning.  There was nowhere for him to have gone, but I was standing alone on the top of the cliff. The electricity was a pulse in the air around me and my skin felt charged. Whether it was from the weather or our interaction, I didn’t know.  A thrill coursed through me, moving along my bones.  I looked around for him, but nothing. He had disappeared, just as the creature had disappeared back into the mist.  Slightly dazed, I began walking back to the manor.  I knew I should have been feeling shock or fear, but instead I felt more alive than ever before.

✤✤✤

I stood at the bank of a winding river surrounded by mountains on either side.  The angular mountains were green and thick with foliage.   The sun was beginning to rise over a particularly large mountain in the distance. The mist of the morning was casting shadows all around us.  This place was overgrown and untouched.  A place that time had forgotten, or perhaps overlooked.  I felt the warmth of two arms wrapped around my waist. I looked down at the arms, they were strong and powerful. I felt comfortable and at ease; I felt happy.  I felt the vibration coming from his chest as he was speaking to me, but I couldn’t make out the words. His lips were right by my ear, and I could tell they were meaningful from the tone. Though my ears couldn’t hear his words, somehow my heart could.  While my pulse increased, I felt the deep steady rhythm of his heartbeat and the evenness of his breathing.  The smell in the air was familiar to me, something I knew well, it was all familiar to me. As though a lost memory. As I stood in his arms glimpses of this life I was living; the moments of it flashed through my mind.  I turned to see his face; the smooth planes and angular eyes looking back at me with tenderness, I could see my own sleek black hair and full lips reflected there. His hands released my waist, but before he could say anything the world began to quiver.  The ground, the river, the mountains, all began shaking. An earthquake. The earth shifted underneath us and we fell to our knees. He looked back toward a small village situated behind us. It was our village.  There was real fear in his expression, the same fear I felt, as we watched people running and screaming, and the shaking started building again. We both realized at the same time, the buildings were going to collapse. He got to his feet and pulled me up in one motion.  We were running, toward the building, but he got there first, just as the next tremor hit.  I saw him go in as the tremor rocked the ground under my feet and again I fell, this time I didn’t have a chance to brace myself and I felt my head slam against something hard.  I looked up through hazy vision to see the building he had gone into now shaking on its foundation, threatening to collapse. He was in there, I had to get to him. I tried to stand but the pain was excruciating. I felt a warm sticky sensation sliding down my forehead onto my cheek.  The building blurred as the haze in my vision turned red and the shaking around me intensified.  My eyes slid closed and the darkness swallowed me.

✤✤✤

The shaking continued and I opened my eyes. I was looking at Lily.  My hands shot to my head where the blood had been sliding down my face.  There was nothing there, just dry, smooth skin.  Her hands were on my shoulders and she was shaking me awake, “Sinclaira, you’ve got 20 minutes to get ready!” She let go and I looked at the clock on my nightstand.  She was right, if I didn’t get up I was going to be late, again. 

I was shell shocked.  She was still staring down at me. Even as I tried to focus my thoughts on what was happening now, they were still on the river, the collapsing building, the hands around my waist.  She didn’t register my confusion as anything but that of someone who had just woken up.  She moved away from the bed and toward the door, saying over her shoulder, “Sinclaira, do you want to be late?” as she walked out of my room.  I shook my head, as if that could clear the confusion. Another dream. Another that felt as real as this moment I was living right now. Where were they coming from, and how were they so real?  In these dreams I was somehow part of the reality, I knew what was happening in those moments. I was seeing from someone else’s perspective, I was sharing their emotions, their physical body, their senses, but I was along for the ride.  I knew the choices they would make, because they were my choices.  Even though I was in their body, I was a silent participant, until today. This dream had been different, I was no longer simply witnessing from their perspective without agency, this time I was living it.  The clock on my nightstand chimed again and I was about to be late.  I didn’t have time to dwell now, I had to get ready. Quickly pulling a brush through my hair I grabbed whatever clothes appeared to coordinate from the drawers of my dresser. I rushed down to the garden room for the elocution lesson. I was present but couldn’t focus, my mind spinning out in different directions pulling me away from where I was supposed to be.  

My lack of focus didn’t go completely unnoticed. Madame Demare, the elocution instructor, said to me at the end of the lesson, “Sinclaira, I would think you would be taking more care, with how quickly your departure is approaching. Next lesson I expect your undivided attention.” I hadn’t realized how obvious it was. “Yes, of course.” I said back to her, nodding demurely and she seemed satisfied.  She hadn’t been wrong. I attempted to do better in the next lesson, but the entire day my thoughts were consumed with horses, dragons, James, and dreams, that I couldn’t mention. When I had given up on trying to understand the dream, my thoughts went back to him, why was he so familiar? What was the electricity in the air?  Thinking back on the atmosphere last night, a storm should have arrived. The air had been charged with energy, a storm that strong should have woken me, but I slept through the night. I slept through because no storm materialized. 

The day dragged on as though it would never end. When I was finally freed from my lessons, there was just enough light left to make it to the causeway. I needed the escape, the freedom that came with being by the sea. I rushed to the edge of the cliff where the path began and stood at the overlook. I looked out to the water, and down the length of the beach.  I didn’t want to admit it, that I was hoping to see him, but no one was there.  A flicker of disappointment rose up, but as the scent of brine and earth filled my nose, it was soon overpowered. Here was my only chance to be truly alone with my thoughts instead of having to pretend to be focused on classes or conversations.  An opportunity which was becoming an increasingly regular problem. A week ago my only thoughts had been on my future in New York, but my focus had drifted so far in the past few days to the moments that had thrilled me and the dreams that chased me. The days of ettiquette and diplomacy lessons paled in comparison to the excitement of disappearing roads, creatures, and strangers. What was happening to me.  A loud wave crashed along the shore and pulled me out of my mental spiral.  The sound was enough that it caught me off guard and made my pulse spike. I looked out to the water as I reached up to my chest, steadying my heart from the outside. Catching my breath, I glanced down the beach and I saw him walking toward me.  Where had he come from? I would have seen him from the overlook had he been anywhere around here, and there was no way he could have gotten down here without me noticing, there was only one path and I was standing right on it.  It’s possible I missed him when I was at the top…possible, but unlikely. He smiled at me, and I could feel the air shimmering again. Tonight I could see the air between us subtly out of focus, almost glittering. “Good evening Sinclaira” he said and his voice was like velvet. If I didn’t already know better, I could have sworn I had known him for years, even longer if that were possible. His presence set my senses in search of something I felt but couldn’t recall. Why did I feel this way about someone I just met? 

Thanks for reading Chapter One! You can find me on tiktok and instagram. If you want to know why I’m publishing my book this way, you can read more about that here.