• The Outcasts: Chapter One (Part II)

    Posted Posted by Guest Writer in WBN News & Events     Comments 1 comment

    (Yesterday we featured original work from WBN client Jennifer Cowhill, the first half of the first chapter of her novel The Outcasts. Today we present the second half of the chapter, for your reading pleasure.)


    The Outcasts: Chapter One (con’t)


    As the elf boy rounded the tree, he glanced back once and smiled at the duplicated elf. For years he had been bothering Gordon with his deep yearning for a brother to befriend and spend time with, and his surrogate father finally agreed to clone him. The doctor used samples of Bill’s hair and skin as well as a collection of potions to form the body, then they planted it in the Healing Tree to make the clone come alive. It was a long and complicated process that was often frowned upon, but it was the closest that Bill would ever get to having a blood relative—he was orphaned as a baby and taken in by Gordon at a very young age, so he had never known his real family. His surrogate father took care of him best he could, but Bill yearned deeply for a family member to explore Tokitel with, and Gordon could not be outside in the sunlight without running the risk of burning to death. Bill’s only thought was having a sibling, so his father finally decided to make him one. The clone took three years to grow, but it was only a matter of time before all the hard work paid off.

    Bill retraced the path back home while the Healing tree disappeared in the distance. He sprang over the creek where the elf and wolf children played together under the watchful eye of their parents. The elf boy could not help but pause briefly to glance back at the sweet serenity of loving parents and the relationship they shared with their offspring. It saddened Bill to look at scenes like this and be reminded that he never had such a life. As much as he loved Gordon as a parent, they never did much together aside from talking and mixing potions in the darkness of the cave.

    At least I actually have someone to take care of me, Bill told himself as he turned away from the creek and started toward the oak tree.

    The elf spotted an unusual sight beneath the massive oak. A creature about his age sat in the shadows, staring straight ahead into nothingness. He had short blond hair and piercing amber eyes, and he wore nothing except a pair of faded white trousers. His ears were not pointed like an elf’s or wolfman’s, but rather they were rounded. Bill quickly realized that he had enormous black wings protruding from his back.

    The elf boy gasped in fright and ducked beneath the bushes—it was an angel from the clan of the Black Ones. He had heard of this creature from his father’s stories, but never seen one in person. What was he doing here, so far away from his clan?

    The angel sat unmoving for several moments, his glare burning through everything that lay in front of him. Bill quickly noticed that his eyes were sparkling, and he could have sworn that the creature was crying. The elf almost felt sorry for the angel, but he was still too scared to approach the foreign animal.

    After a few minutes of staring endlessly at the angel, Bill noticed a blue spot on his arm. The elf boy squinted his eyes and strained his vision to make it out, and he soon identified it as a tattoo of a shooting star. Bill found this somewhat interesting, since he had a star tattooed onto his hip. Gordon had told him that it was there since he first found him as an infant—was it possible that the angel’s star tattoo had been around that long?

    Bill stayed poised beneath the bushes for a few more seconds, but eventually his curiosity got the better of him. Slowly and cautiously, he eased himself to a stand and approached the angel. “Um, h-hello,” he stammered.

    The angel whipped his head in the elf’s direction. His frightened, tear-filled amber eyes blazed like fire even in the shadow of the oak tree. In less than a second, the creature leapt to his feet and began to beat his wings wildly, blasting Bill with the wind he buffeted. The winged boy quickly took off, shooting through the leafy treetops and disappearing into the sky.

    Bill stood dumbfounded under the great oak, staring after the fleeing angel. He could not even begin to process what just happened—not only had he spotted a creature that he had never seen in real life before, but it appeared to have a tattoo that was strikingly similar to his own.

    After a while, the elf gave up and shook his head. Forget it, he told himself. I have to get back to Father with Tom’s progress.


    Jennifer Cowhill is 16 years old. She attends Martin County High School where she excels in art, English,  and history. Her hobbies include writing, drawing, and listening to rock music. She is a lover of all animals. Jennifer loves to write, fantasy most of all. Jennifer lives in Palm City, FL with her parents, brother, and two guinea pigs.

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    David Duhr

    This is wonderful writing, Jennifer. And dare I say, it might make for a good movie, too!

    Keep up the good work.

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