The City in the Blue Mountains

By Josephine Miller

The City in the Blue Mountains follows Tin, a young woman who has spent much of her youth traveling and on the run.  Following dark events Tin finds herself in a miraculous city surrounded by blue mountains.  The inhabitants of the city are just as miraculous with large feathered wings and powerful blue fire.  Tin’s own hidden power awakens, a powerful yellow light, forcing her to confront her past and learn to control her abilities.  All the while Tin struggles to navigate a budding romance, new friendships and a looming war.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Josephine Miller
• Release date: Nov 14, 2017
• ISBN: 9780999155417

Josephine Miller

Josephine Miller is an author from Ohio.  She loves stories with adventure and romance.  Some of her favorite things are nature, books, cats, art, video games, and anime.  She likes relaxing on the weekends and spending time with her family.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Who am I? What a silly question, of course I know who I am. My name is Katinia Lavelosie, but everyone calls me ‘Tin’ for short. I’m nineteen years old. Still though, is that the definition of me? Am I defined by my name and my age? By my appearance, perhaps? Where I come from? Why is it so difficult to define oneself? Or can one even be defined by words? Do words lack the power to define a person?

What if we’re defined by where we live, or where we come from? The world I live in is expansive and strange. It’s full of unique people and places and holds wonders that would take one’s breath away. Though I’m only nineteen, I have traveled more than others, yet there’s still much of the world I haven’t seen. In my travels, I have encountered various types of people. To some, beauty is of the utmost importance. They have the most intricate and dazzling hairstyles, not a single strand out of place. They paint their faces to look like the most exceptional works of art, and while it’s true they’re beautiful, they look more like a painting than a person. Every nail filed and designed with perfection. Perfection. That’s what they seek. That’s why they try to look like paintings and not people, because people will never be perfect. If they are imperfect, they have ways of correcting that, although, I have heard some methods are quite extreme.

In their eyes, I would in no way be considered perfect. My hair is blonde, but not the beautiful white or golden blonde they have. No, it’s what is referred to as dishwater blonde; a term which I have never been fond of. My eyes are blue, but not the turquoise or cerulean they have. My skin is quite pale, and I have freckles spread like stars over my body. I’m neither big nor thin—I’m healthy and strong. But not perfect.

There are other groups, where one’s title and status determine how ‘great’ a person is and what responsibilities they should uphold. I hold no title, and have never been given one. Not here where I live now, nor where I originally came from. I’m not sure what is most important to those I reside with currently. Most of us just want to live a quiet and happy life. We have, in our youth, faced many dark days and events. It’s enough for us just to live and be free.

So again, the question arises, who am I? Or what am I? After nineteen years shouldn’t I know? Or perhaps it takes a lifetime to figure out. What if you die not knowing who you are? What do you become? Do you die being no one?

I live in the Village of Roses. It’s a small, quaint village, but the people here are all kind and polite. The village is never short on flowers, and as the name implies, is known to grow a multitude of beautiful roses. Many other types of flowers are grown here as well, and there’s always a unique floral fragrance in the air.

There are two other restaurants in town, but the one I work in is the most popular. It’s called ‘The Sitting Tree.’ No one is exactly sure what the name means, only the owner Marlinda knows. She says it’s a matter of the heart, and she won’t tell another soul. Most of us have accepted it, but a few still try to get the meaning out of her. There are quite a few tables, with chairs all made of dark deep rich wood, and there are paintings and flowers covering the walls. The windows are huge and let sunlight into the room. When it’s dark, there are candle chandeliers to light up the restaurant.

As I wake up, a sunbeam travels across the wall as the sun rises in the east. I’m lying in my simple bed near the window. Sleep has not been kind since I arrived here two years ago, and my dreams are haunted by my past. I live in a room with nine other girls above the restaurant we all work in. We all came to this village from different places lost and alone, the war at the time destroying our homes and robbing us of a childhood and our families. It’s a sad part of our past that has somehow become part of us, like an ugly piece to a puzzle of what might have been an otherwise beautiful picture. But now isn’t the time for reminiscing and I’ve spent enough time lost in thought! I throw my sheets off and begin getting ready.

Before I know it, my feet are on the ground, my face is washed, my teeth brushed and I’m out in the garden. Oh, how I love the garden! It is where I find my peace. It has rained the past couple of days and while the plants look radiant, the weeds do as well. I begin my weeding, careful not to pull the plants we’ll be harvesting. This is my job most days, tending the garden and collecting the vegetables to be used by the restaurant. I rarely ever serve customers; four of the other girls do that. They all have outgoing and loud personalities. I’m friendly and polite, but am not quite the spectacle that they are, which our manager says the customers prefer. That’s alright, though, many of them don’t have the green thumb I do. The other girls tend to housework and cleaning and occasionally help in the garden as well. We’re around the same age and get along like sisters.

We all put in our day’s work, and then at dinner laugh about the entertaining things that happened. Marlinda, the owner of the restaurant, pays us a small wage. She lets us stay here for free as long as we do our jobs. Occasionally we hold parties or festivals in the restaurant, which always make for an enjoyable time. Most days are pretty typical. This day however, was different.

Marlinda comes to meet me in the garden. I’m working on picking radishes so I’m covered in dirt.

Hey Tin! Marlinda says cheerfully. She’s a petite woman with beautiful dark skin. Her eyes are a neat hazel color, a beautiful blue, green, and brown mixture. She’s always dressed simply, yet perfectly. Not a strand of hair out of place or a wrinkle in her clothes. I wonder if she came from one of those places originally, the places that demanded perfection. Today she’s in a red dress that falls just below the ankle, with a white apron. She has her hair pinned back in a bun. She walks toward me, clearly bothered, but with a smile on her face.

Tin, Ella is sick today and the restaurant is packed. I hate to ask, but I really need a fourth server. This is the busiest time of year and we can’t afford to be short a server.

My heart sinks a little. Because of the rain I haven’t been out in the garden for a few days, and there’s so much work that needs done. But I relent. Marlinda has been great to me and I would do anything for her. I was seventeen when I arrived here. I had basically been alone and on the road for seven years; the war had taken my previous home from me. Many strangers took pity on me, being such a small child and all alone when I first set out. That’s not to say that everyone I encountered meant me well, but I managed. I never stayed with anyone too long. I did not want to be a burden. I became a wanderer, exploring lands near and far. When I found Marlinda, however, she insisted I stay. She promised I would not be a burden as long as I did my job. I was the eighth girl she took in. Ella and Molly soon joined the ranks afterwards.

Of course, just let me get cleaned up and changed and I’ll start serving! I respond cheerfully.

I go back inside and check on Ella, who is caked in sweat. Her usually sleek and straight auburn hair is sprawled across the pillow and stuck to her skin. Her peach colored skin is pale and clammy. Her brown eyes are glossed over. I ask if she needs anything, but she declines my help while apologizing and thanking me greatly for taking her place. Ella is the sweetest girl one could ever hope to meet. She’s quiet like me, but comes alive when waiting on customers. She can play the piano beautifully and has a lovely voice that compliments her playing. I love Ella like a sister; we really have become close friends. It troubles me greatly to see her ill.

It takes a couple of minutes to get the dirt scrubbed off me. I love being covered in dirt; there’s just something about it that makes me feel like I have done a hard day’s work. I take Ella’s uniform out. I don’t have my own since I don’t usually serve. Hers is a dark royal blue dress with a white apron. The dress falls just above the knee where it floats out. The apron is lined in lace and is quite beautiful. She’s a little shorter than I am, so the dress is short on me, but nothing major. I head down to the restaurant where the other three girls are busy serving.

Hey Tin, glad you’re here. Can you help those three tables in the corner? Thanks so much! Maria says to me in passing while carrying two trays full of food. Maria has dark skin, and uniquely gold colored eyes. Her uniform is a beautiful yellow dress with the typical white apron of all the uniforms. She wears her hair short and in curls and it bounces to and fro as she glides around the room. I smile at her and nod, and head to the tables she asked me to serve.

The day is going smoothly, and I’m enjoying serving. I’m making decent tips as well, which I fully intended to pass onto Ella. It’s not her fault that she’s sick, and I know she’s been saving her money. She wants to attend an academy far away and study writing. She hopes to pen a famous novel someday.

At noon exactly, I notice something very strange in the restaurant. It’s as if all the air is sucked from the room. Some customers shuffle nervously in their seats, looking around with confused expressions. I imagine this is how it feels to be prey under the intense gaze of a deadly predator.

Five tall men walk one by one through the door. They’re clean shaven, with dark brown hair slicked back into precise ponytails. They’re dressed completely in black, in a type of fabric I don’t recognize. They are stoned face, neither smiling at nor acknowledging anyone in the restaurant. A beautiful woman in a short purple dress adorned with ribbons and gems walks in behind them. She has jet black hair which falls in curls down to her waist. Her eyes are the same purple as her dress, and her skin is dark and tan but with a golden sheen to it. There’s no question that she’s beautiful. She appears to be in charge. They are not from around here, not even close, and by the looks of it they must be high ranking from a city.

Confusion is evident on everyone’s face; those of such high rank have never come to our restaurant before. We mainly get travelers and farm folk. I’m thankful they don’t sit in my section, but pity Selena, who slowly walks over to greet them.

May I help you? she asks in a quite high-pitched voice. She nervously tucks a strand of her short blonde hair behind her ear. Her soft blue eyes peek out under her thick black eyelashes.

The woman looks at her, scoffs, and then turns to examine the room. Her eyes are like daggers, and no one dares move while she scans the restaurant. She’s the predator, searching for her prey. Her eyes lock on mine, and she stops.

You, what is your name? She says suddenly.

Seriously, is she speaking to me?! I feel my spine stiffen as goosepimples creep up my arms. Something isn’t right about this situation. I consider refusing to answer, but don’t want to start a conflict with these strangers if I can help it. I look at Marlinda, and she offers a slow nod, eyeing these new customers warily.

Tin... I reply, not wanting to say more than I have to.

Your full name.

It’s Katinia Lavelosie. May I ask yours?

She laughs and the most horrid smile develops across her golden face. You are not from here originally, are you?

I don’t answer but now hold her gaze. I feel myself shudder again under her intensity. What are you doing here? What is your intent? I ask in the bravest voice I can muster.

She laughs again, You see dear, a war is starting, one far worse than has ever been witnessed. Even bloodier than the last one, and I’m afraid you are going to be a problem.

War? What is she talking about? The war is over. I watched it end.

I don’t understand, I say, raising my hands in question. As I do, I realize that something is wrong. Both of my hands are illuminated and glowing yellow! I look at them in shock and then around the room, seeking an explanation. Did she do this somehow? What’s happening? Panic begins to set in.

"Oh my, you don’t even know what you are! She laughs. I guess they didn’t tell you before they all perished. Funny how what we were hunting this whole time was right under our nose. Your corpse will make a pretty prize for Lord Doran."

Before she even finishes the sentence, the five men stand up and began to walk towards me. A few customers quickly get out of their way, knocking over a couple chairs as they rush out of the restaurant. With each step, the men are getting closer, and my mind races as I contemplate what to do. Why are my hands glowing? Why is this happening? What do they want? I want so very much to run, but my exit’s blocked. There’s no way I could fend off one, yet alone five of these guys. People in the room continue to shift uncomfortably. I don’t believe anyone in this room would stand a chance against any of them.

Marlinda stands up and puts her hand bravely up to one of the five men, signaling him to stop. Enough of this, this is my restaurant and you are in my home. You are not welcome here. Get out! she says in a mighty tone that even struck a little chord of fear in myself.

It’s foolhardy however, and we all watch in horror as the man hits her with the back of his hand sending her flying into the wall, only to collapse into a crumple on the ground. She moans and blood begins to pool around her head.

I’m horrified. I can’t get to Marlinda, there are at least two men in my way. I see Maria arrive at her side. Good, at least someone is with her. I switch my thinking. If I can’t save her, I need to get out. If I