Cinderellis
Copyright © 2005
Cinna Schmidt

Cover design by Cinna Schmidt

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means - electronic, mechanical, recording, or otherwise - without the prior written permission of the publisher and copyright owners.

This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this novel are either fictitious or are used fictitiously.

Published by Secret of Hogwarts Publishing Company

Cast of Characters/Glossary
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six

     The sun shone brightly upon the calm waters of the lake, reflecting two figures on horseback by the water’s edge, laughing and carrying on as if they were but young boys. The truth of the matter was that they were no such thing. The taller of the two was perhaps eighteen and grinning playfully at his father’s jest. His father, looking young and carefree despite his advancing age, sat upon his horse with the nimbleness of long practice, smiling at the precious time with his only son. For time that father and son could spend together was rare. The younger man was constantly engaged in his training as a weaponsmith, while his father ran his carpentry shop at the other end of their small town. So when the opportunity arose to be alone with each other, the two men eagerly saddled their horses and rode wherever their fancy took them.
     On this day they found themselves at Lake Cenedril. The name meant “mirror” in the old tongue, and it was said that even on the most blustery of days, the water would not be disturbed, and a perfect reflection would be shown to all who looked upon it.
     Ellis and his father cared nothing for these tales, relishing simply in having the time to be together. Alaric was telling his son about the comical visit of old lady Mabel, who was well known to be almost completely deaf and knowing nothing at all about anything except the different varieties of flowers.
     “She walked into my shop this morning with her nose in the air and a sour expression on her face. The hat on her head must have had fifteen different kinds of flowers on it, and there were at least ten of every kind. It was a wonder you could see her face at all,” Alaric grinned boyishly at the memory. “Of course, as soon as she came in, I called to her, ‘Good morrow,’ to which she immediately replied, ‘Sorrow? No, no, I’m quite happy, thank you, except that I am in need of a fine table.” Ellis was bent over from laughing at this point, holding his aching side. “At this, I repressed a smile, and asked her which kind of wood she would prefer, and she said, ‘I suppose it would be kind to give it to her, but I was rather hoping for a table for myself.’” Ellis let out a fresh peal of laughter. “So I told her, ‘Yes, yes. Would ash suit you?’ to which she asked of me, ‘Sash? What sash?” And I bellowed in her ear the same question. Old lady Mabel only sniffed at me and told me she thought it would be suitable, then left the shop, muttering about the silly ramblings of youth these days.”
     “Oh, Da,” Ellis said between laughs, “is it always such fun in your shop?”
     Alaric chuckled. “If only it were so. Too often customers are simply crotchety and impatient.”
     “Yes, some of the people who come to the armory are rather like that too. It’s not much fun talking to them.”
     “True,” Alaric allowed, “but I hope you’re doing something that will make it all worth it in the end.”
     “I have, Da. You know I love making weapons. Especially swords.”
     Alaric beamed at him. “I could never be more proud of you, Ellis. The way you put yourself into your work... and what results, it’s marvelous.”
     “Thank you, Da.” A brief silence fell between the two, and Alaric noticed the sun’s course had led it closer to the earth than he had realized.
     Alaric sighed, but told his son, “We had better head on back to the village, Ellis. ‘Twill be dark soon, and you know how your mother worries when we are out too late.”
     Alaric spurred his horse into a trot. “Someday I’ll have to take you out with me on a trip into the woods, just the two of us, for a few days. Away from work and into the wilderness.”
     Ellis smiled anew. “That sounds wonderful, Da. I hope we can do it soon.”
     Alaric nodded. “I’ll see how soon I can leave the shop for a few days, and you’ll have to check with Master Alan.”
     “I’m sure Master Alan will give me leave to go.”
     “Now we just have to get your mother to agree,” Alaric added in a conspiratorial whisper.
     “And we both know that will be the hardest part,” remarked Ellis cheerfully.
     “Only too well, Ellis, only two well.” A rustle sounded in the bushes, and Alaric’s horse skittered nervously. “It’s okay, boy. Probably just a rabbit.” At his master’s pat on the flank and soothing voice, the horse quieted. But a moment later it sounded again, and the animal whinnied, wide-eyed in its fear. “Whoa, boy, calm down,” murmured Alaric quietly, but this time his mount would not be soothed. When a jewel-eyed snake appeared from the rustling bushes, the horse panicked and bolted into the forest, carrying Alaric along with him.
     “Da!” cried Ellis, kicking his own mount into a gallop after the run-away horse. Ellis just managed to keep his father in sight and soon saw the river, swollen from the spring run-off, appear in the path of the panicked horse. Ellis reined in his mount, believing the horse’s mad dash would be halted. But his father’s horse, when it saw the rushing water, attempted to jump the span, and landed jarringly on the opposite bank. For Ellis, time seemed to come to a stand-still as he saw his father flung from the saddle. Alaric cracked his head on the branch of a tree, and fell limply to the ground.
     For a moment, Ellis felt he couldn’t move. Then he jumped from the back of his horse and ran to where his father lay. Later, Ellis would barely remember the numbingly cold water that soaked him to the skin as he crossed the river or the pounding of his heart and heaving of his lungs as he ran. He could only recall, all too vividly, his father’s pale face and his body that would not respond. Ellis would never forget the horrible emptiness he heard when he placed his ear against his father’s chest, desperately trying to find a heartbeat and failing. The lifeless, limp feeling of his father’s body against his chest as he rode back to town, nearly blinded by tears, would forever linger in his memory.