Here is the first three chapters I've written. Yes, the second one is extremely short, but that's the way it's supposed to be right now.

The Beginning
In which we meet our characters, and they meet each other


The streets were dark as Jagat and Ehan patrolled them. Jagat, a reasonably tall, medium-tanned, shaggy brunette with matching brown eyes (in other words, the common heartthrob of the time) was an archer for the Kings Knights and therefore in charge of safety for his home city. The cocky young knight was proud of his standings, as he walked along the bend towards the town square, his trusty tiger prowling next to him. The square was lit, in contrast to the rest of the city. Tonight was the monthly Lunar Celebration; a local gathering to admire the full moon. It was a night of happiness, but the King’s Knights were there to prevent any trouble.
A small cluster of well-dressed girls passed by and Jagat smirked proudly at them, smiling when they began to giggle amongst themselves. As they passed, Ehan turned to Jagat. You’re quite proud of yourself tonight, he complained. Jagat just glared at him and quickened his stride.
While this small, yet important, introduction of characters was taking place, another introduction was being set up. Recently, the city had opened its gates to a band of travelers, commonly known as gypsies to most parts of the world, but here in the land of Mesilici, foreigners were happily given stay.
Amongst this happy collection was a girl, two years younger than our afore mentioned knight, but no less smart, strong, or speedy. Alessa, which if the reader cares to know means Defender of the People in her native tongue, was quite the gypsy. She wore short-hemmed, low-cut dresses in black and adorned herself with jewelry. Though, in this odd little world, these were not the marks of a vagabond, as in her home country. They were marveled upon by the women of the town.
“How do you keep your hair that soft?”
“Where can you find that fabric?”
“What metal is this ring?”
The questions, it seemed to Alessa, were endless. She, being the only girl in her troupe, was the only one to take the attention, much to the amusement of her counterparts. In order for the reader to hope to understand the contrast in the simple dress of Mesilian women, and the outfit Alessa constantly donned, I suppose it is time for a full description.
The olive skin of Alessa was common for her people, but the entirety of Mesilici had never seen such golden skin. Her hair was a deep, rich and silky black that lay straight perfectly into place. Raven hair was the only shade of black the Mesilians ever saw, and even then, it was as rare as could be, and never as silky or soft or straight as Alessa’s. Her eyes, almond shaped and small, were a bright, jaded green, another anomaly of the land. And the fact that her lips could reach the size they had was shocking, though if you were to see her, you’d think them average.
Her dress, as said, was short, only reaching to an inch below her knees. The bodice cut low over her bosom and had improper sleeves that revealed her shoulders entirely. The entire dress was black, with few variations. The sleeves, that resembled more of a shawl that was connected to her bodice, were dotted with silver threads that reflected firelight beautifully. The top of the dress was in the common style of a corset, black silk ribbons running through the back. Across her hips was a dark brown, leather belt from which hung a brass chain with a collection of garnets and brass decorations, a black velvet pouch who’s contents were well-known to be healing (thought it was strongly suspected that not all of them were for good intent) herbs, and an odd collection of tools. To the common eye, they seemed to be nothing but trinkets, but they were really the necessary equipment to unlock any door.
Her left ankle constantly caught the light; for around it’s slim volume there was a golden anklet. On her wrist, in contrast, there was a coarse, black band wrapped several times over that held nothing shiny. Hanging there was a fang, one that could come from anything from a wolf to a dragon. If you asked about it, everyone would have his or her own opinion on how the poisonous fang ended up on a beautiful young girl’s wrist, but I sincerely doubt any story would give you the full truth. Looking further down her arm than her wrist, you would spot that on each of her hands, her ring and pinky fingers were occupied by a ring. On her left, there was a pewter ring with a small, deep purple amethyst weighing down her littlest finger, followed by a thicker band that was decorated with moons and stars. On the other two fingers of her other hand, she wore a silver band that resembled several strings tied over and a simple blue band, with golden sparkles throughout it.
Her ears, as any other gypsy, were pierced, several times at that. From her lowest piercing hung golden hoops, and all the others held only a black gem, unidentifiable by anyone as to what it was. You had to assume that there was the same number of piercings on each side (though I, being the author, can assure the reader there were) because her thick locks fell over her left eye (in fact, that whole side of her face, for a reason to be revealed later), only allowing the edge of her hoop to peer through.
Striding alongside her was a majestic black wolf, his head held high and his coat as glossy as his companion’s hair. His name, as barely anybody knew, was Adolfo, meaning Noble Wolf.

Now that we have introduced our characters, it is time that we watch as they are pushed together, for though it is my fingers that craft this tale, it is truly a tale that has already occurred, just not for the rest of the world.
As we have seen, the entire populace was gathering for its pagan ritual, one that would never have been allowed in the home of Alessa and her friends. These friends, however, would not dream of discriminating good earnings, and therefore they went to work with their usual tricks of juggling and psychic readings, feats of strength and feats of fire. But the true attraction began when Alessa reached the fire, at the same moment that Jagat and Ehan did, as well.
Adolfo and a man of whom Alessa traveled with stood to the edge, the man strumming a guitar, and Adolfo watching the crowd through narrowed eyes, concerned for his companion’s safety as always. The other gypsies joined the two, bringing a violin, a flute, an upright bass, and a tambourine into the musical mix. This strange stream of noise attracted many eyes and ears, including the young knight and his tiger.
The firelight shone against the silver in her dress and the gold and brass scattered across her outfit as Alessa stepped before the crowd, her eyes shining, her lips raised into a smirk, that instead of providing anger, seemed to shine beauty and confidence, though how this came across is still a mystery to me. Her graceful movements followed the beat of the strange instruments that were collected and it fascinated the crowd. Coins and flowers began to collect in front of the girl, and Adolfo hurried forward on his four paws to push them together with his nose, amusing the younger children of the crowd.
With her fingers perfectly poised, moving like butterfly wings with each movement, and her feet pointed as they turned and shifted, Alessa was the picture of grace that so many women had only wished for all their lives in this town where Elves often outshone humans. The way she moved, it seemed to inspire so much in the hearts of everyone around her, that they forgot to be jealous. And as the flute and violin solos mingled with each other, conflicting and joining at the same time, she seemed to be the single instrument that played. The song lasted for only a short minute or so, but the people gathered could see her dancing across the inside of their eyes much longer. She bowed low, her foot pointed behind her, and the boldness of her bow (for to these people a curtsy was their expectation) seemed to only increase the fact that she was an amazing dancer.
Now, while she was dancing, Jagat certainly was watching, and three of the gold coins that Adolfo collected were most certainly his, but he himself doubted his thoughts belonged in his mind. He had been bewitched, if I may use this term lightly as possible, by her movements, and he stood shell-shocked as she and her companions collected their earnings for the night. Unfortunately, not all in the town were satisfied. In fact, the very people who were unhappy with this show were Jagat’s parents, the Duke and Duchess that controlled this city.
They pushed their way through the crowd (or more appropriately, their servants pushed their way) and came upon the fire. Truthfully, Lord Anadarko had no apparent issue with the foreigners; he was a rare soul (at least in those days of ruling) who truly wanted what was best for his city, and since these travelers posed no threat, he saw that they only made his townspeople enjoy their performances. Meanwhile, his wife, the ever-beautiful Lady Catalina, was brooding jealously in her heart. She, who had once been the talk of the town, was now pushed aside for some scantily clothed (her words, not mine), barely-educated, low-life street dancer. As Alessa was collecting the last of the coins, Lady Catalina stood above her, and as most would in this situation, Alessa raised her head, and her eyebrows.
“Thief!” the older woman cried, pointing at her. “You dare to steal the gold of this city?”
“I am not stealing, I earned these coins.”
“Oh, yes, your seductive dancing has encroached into the pure minds of my people, along with your enchanting music and bewitching tricks!” she screeched as the girl stood. “Look at all of your clothes! Rags that barely conceal you!”
“Your people seem to not agree with you,” the girl bravely pointed out, gesturing to the glaring men and women who stood in a rough atmosphere behind the lady.
“Because they are sheep, being misled by the vicious wolf in disguise as an innocent shepherdess. I see through your act, witch.”
“I wouldn’t call a witch a witch, personally. I’d be concerned they’d try to turn me into a toad,” Alessa responded, much to the general amusement of the crowd.
“You demon,” the lady hissed. “You dare threaten me?”
“I don’t believe I was threatening you. I was under the impression I was giving rather wise advice.” Another peal of laughter rose, even allowing the Duke to raise the corner of his mouth.
“Just watch your step,” the lady whispered to Alessa before turning, and casting a large smile to her people. “Well, I suppose my mistake has been amended by the young lady. Continue, for the night of the round moon is still young!” A cheer rose up, distracting the people long enough for the woman to give a deathly glare to the gypsy, who responded with her famous smirk and a miniature bow.
“Do not mind her,” came a strong voice behind her. It belonged to no other than Jagat, and as usual, Ehan was by his side. Alessa turned, and managed to take in his, admittedly handsome, face, uniform, sword, and tiger all at once. “She only cares for our people.”
“Well, understandable,” she replied. Now, should the reader be curious as to another rarity that the people in this story often comment on, her voice was accented towards her language, and she often lapsed into the foreign words, fascinating all who listened. “But what is not understandable is the reason you allow a large, and frankly frightening, beast to stalk after you.”
Jagat was a little insulted, and reached down to pat Ehan. Don’t blow this one! Ehan interrupted as Jagat started to speak. She’s gorgeous! The knight glared down at his friend before returning his attention to Alessa. “I suppose he’s difficult to understand to a foreigner.” He held out his hand to Alessa, “I am Sir Jagat, and this is my companion Ehan. You?”
Alessa shook his hand, and slipped the ring he wore on his thumb off and holding it up in-between them, smirking at his expression of alarm as he received his ring back. “Alessa. And Adolfo is somewhere around here, the sneaky little rascal,” she commented.
“It seems you really do possess some type of magic,” Jagat hedged, inspecting his ring. To this, Alessa merely gave the same bow his mother had received and said nothing, though her eyes twinkled enough to make for the lack of words. “What exactly brings you to Mesilici?” Alessa’s eyes widened and she took a step back. This question had yet to come up in any of her conversations, and to say the least, she was not ready to hear, nor answer, such an interrogative question.
“We, er, nothing,” she hurried out. “Nothing, we simply travel for a living.” And with that, she lithely walked away, wolf in tow, ending the introductions and meetings of our two characters.

A Long Road
On which we witness a small argument between our knight and his tiger


I told you not to blow it! Ehan lectured his older counterpart, much to said counterpart’s displeasure.
“I didn’t mean too! I don’t know what I said, all I asked was…”
Exactly! Perhaps they were banned, and her first thought is you’re a bounty hunter.
“I doubt they were banned from their own country.”
They come from the outside world, who knows what possibilities there are? Perhaps they were discounted for their wolf, or their street dancing.
“That’s ridiculous, Ehan. You don’t know anything, now, do you?”
Well, as if you’re any more educated than I. I happen to talk to other animals, not block them out like you do.
“Oh, shut up.”

And with that, our knight ignored his tiger for the rest of the night, but the tiger never stopped the wheels in his mind. What made the foreigners become foreigners? Why were they so quick to avoid questions? And what was wrong with a tiger?

A Quick View of the Gypsy Tents
Where we are introduced to Alessa’s counterparts and hear of their mission.


While we were following Jagat and Ehan, Alessa, Adolfo, and their counterparts made their escape. Following the group of gypsies, we’d have come upon a collection of rag-tag tents on the outskirts of the town gates, seeing as they aren’t permitted to live within the city limits. Cluttered around are several painted and carved wagons, though dilapidated, that they arrived in. There are five other significant characters among the eight that Alessa traveled with, and the other three are currently unnamed and therefore unimportant, though be sure they will have their own parts to play later on in this story.
Sitting around the logs were all nine companions, and their various pets and accessories that they had discarded. As for the five men that are pertaining to this tale, we’ll get right to it, shall we?

The leader of their little group of travelers would be Alessa’s older brother, Alessandro, a (for their country) typically tall, tan skinned, black haired, brown-eyed fellow. He is another of those rare leaders whom thinks everything through as, “What will be best for them?” rather than “How do I get more money?” He sits, naturally, at the head of the fire, with the nicest of their wooden and tin plates, but he insists on the same amount of food as his companions. His second-in-command is his own cousin, Benevuto, the jester of the group. He has the same look as Alessandro and Alessa, though slightly shorter than his leader. Orphaned at a young age, his family became the brother and sister, and therefore the three are extremely close. Next to him by the fire is Benito, the craftiest of them all, and though the reader is advised to keep an eye on their pocket watch, he is not to be the villain, in this story, at least. In fact, he happens to be one of the most heroic in the group, sporting a scar across his eye from the last escape the band made, the only thing about him not matching the rest of the group. And last, but not least, would be Dario and Leo, the twins. Again, they look like their friends, though they have the added appearance of their faces being identical.

Around the fire were these nine gypsies, six of which are named, and it is around this fire that these gypsies plotted out their next moves.
“How do we even know if the money will be good?” Alessandro brought up. “After the way she treated…us,” he said, giving a worried, sideways glance to his younger sister, who met his glance with a glare.
“I say we forget the old hag,” Leo piped up, much to general agreement. “We have the money already, we only have to find that—“
“Shh! They said to never speak of it out loud!” Alessandro hushed the loudmouth. He nodded to Alessa, who stood and walked over to Leo, tying a gag across his mouth. It may have seemed futile, considering as soon as she walked away he would be able to untie it, but he respected their wish for his mouth to be shut and simply crossed his arms with a glare.
“Let’s just stay on the down low for a while. We’ll put up with the people, but when they start to get too nosy, we complain and demand the orders,” Benito spoke up. Alessa nodded in agreement, her mind wandering to her encounter with the knight. If the reader were to accompany the writer into her mind at that moment, you would see she has already forgotten his name and his tiger’s.
“In that case,” Alessandro said, in that well-known tone of a finishing statement, “I say we concentrate on the amount of earnings we made tonight!” A communal cheer traveled through everyone, even if only a laugh and a smile, and there was a short toast, before the night continued in the typical ways. Adolfo and Alessa disappeared from the fire only a short while later, leaving Benito, Leo, and Alessandro to talk quietly about their female companion.
“You can’t just keep her holed up forever,” Leo urged Alessandro gently. “She’s a lot like you, and what did you do? You ran off with a group of friends and your younger sister.”
“Only a few more years,” he countered, giving Leo a pointed look to stop meddling. “Then she can do what she wants.”
“How long will that promise last to a few years?” Benito argued. “In a few years, you’ll say another few years. Again and again until she’s an old maid and you’re dead.”
“I’ll hold to my promise,” Alessandro said indignantly.
“Oh, sure, just as you held to your promise to your father that you’d never leave your mother? That lasted…a month. Alessandro, she’s your sister, yes, but she’s also your sister! In other words, she’ll walk away one day, never turn her head back, and you’ll lose her.”
“The gambler has words of wisdom? This is new,” Alessandro scoffed, causing Benito to narrow his eyes and lean forward.
“Well, you seem to forget that this gambler is not only your friend, but your sister’s friend, and your cousin’s savior.”
“You need not remind us every night,” Leo groaned. The other two snapped their attention to him, and he raised his hands as if in defeat, backing away a few feet before turning and striding back to the fire.
“Benito, I value you as a friend, as a brother, but you are thinking of what you would want at that age—“
“And what you would want! What she wants!”
“If I’m not privy to that information, what is to convince me that you are?” Benito could not, truly, retort that question, for if he had told his true reason, his head would have to find a new body.
“You say you are your sisters only friend, and the only one who has ever cared for her, so why do you keep her locked in this camp? Why is she a prisoner of you?”
“When she’s good and ready, she’ll go her own way!” he argued back to Benito. “As I’ve said before, she is no more likely to tell you this than me, therefore, you are to stay out of this!” With his final word, Alessandro turned and stalked off to the fire, leaving Benito only the open woods to walk in. Now, if the reader would follow, we will again be leaving the gypsy camp in order to follow Benito on his search for the mysterious Alessa and her wolf, Adolfo.

Alessa, while Benito and Alessandro fought, evidently was sitting in a tree, watching and listening the whole time. She smiled sometimes (during Benito’s arguments of course), but mostly she shook her head, astonished that such a “free spirit” as her had been reduced to letting her older brother choose her future. She would not stand for it, and as she walked away after Leo was ejected from the conversation, her mind roiled with the anger, not only at Alessandro, though, if the reader wonders. She was irritated, because while defending her against her older brother, he also succeeded in convincing himself he knew what was best for her, the same thing that Alessandro had deluded himself into believing.
“Come sfida lui? Come sfida essi?” she asked Adolfo in her native tongue, which hopefully the reader will take the time to investigate now that they are presented with words of the language. “Those, those, ipocrite, they just think they can…control me! Come sfida essi?” At this point in time, the lovely gypsy girl sank to sit upon a boulder, running her fingers over the softened moss beneath her. “I am my own person, after all. It’s not like I’m…stupido, sordo, ciechi, nothing like that. It’s just that I’m a ragazza. And a giovane ragazza zingaresca, at that.” The wolf whined beside her, alerting her that somebody was coming, though they were not a threat.
“Alessa?” Benito asked into the fresh quiet, and she whistled a small bird tune to tell him that it was. He tromped through the rest of the overgrowth confidently, a broad smile across his face as he reached the boulder she sat on. “Là siete.”
“Here I am,” she sighed, continuing to pet the wolf beside her. Her expression clearly said something was on her mind, a suitable description, I assume, for the readers. There was a hint of defeat about the edges of her chin, noting that she wasn’t thinking cheerfully. Benito, not entirely oblivious, crouched down beside her and cocked his head, a trait that it seemed was common amongst their entire group, inspecting her expression to interpret its meaning.
“What?” she asked him, but without the indignant tone that should go with that statement made by somebody who knows there is nothing that the other can say about their feelings. No, Alessa’s tone was more a breath that she hadn’t wanted to let out, clearly bothered by something. A simple matter as this may baffle some of our readers at its importance, but bear with her, for in this time women did not know the freedom that we have been given today. For her, having the promise of controlling part of her environment had given her a taste that led to an addiction, bringing her full circle in the cycle and leaving her wanting her own destiny and her own fate for herself.
“I’m not quite sure,” Benito hedged, having been quite unsuccessful in dissecting her expression, but quick to pick apart her tone. “How much did you hear?” he asked, finally. “And don’t deny it,” he warned before she could open her mouth to speak.
“I left with Leo,” she said shortly, and almost tersely.
“Don’t—“
“Be mad at my brother, I know that tone very well, considering I’ve heard it all my life from everyone around me.” She sighed exasperatedly and turned from him, swiveling around on the large boulder and picking apart the leaves that she shifted in her movements. “If one day could go by where I didn’t have to conform to anything that would be the day. I’ve had every simple decision thrust at me and pulled back on a line, yanking it away. Alessandro took that line from my father and mother, and now everyone seems to be picking a strand of thread from it. Even Adolfo!” she said, a little bit over-dramatic. She realized how petty this sounded and a smile ghosted across her face as she teased herself, or so we suppose. Perhaps the voice of one of her close friends or even her mother did the teasing for her, but this is entirely beside the point.
“Well, would you like my piece?” he asked jokingly, seeing the millisecond of smile and playing upon it, holding out an invisible piece of line. She finally smiled for real, pretending to receive the piece of line, roll it up, and store it.

Here the reader shall leave them, and fly over the woods, where we notice a dark shape only a few feet out of the clearing, with perfect hearing and perfect sight of the boulder…

I'm looking for constructive criticism, and as long as it's kindly generated, you can tell me anything that's wrong. This is definitely just a work in progress, but I thought it was a nice idea.