Leaves of Holly

By Arnella Hobler

The land of Mórceath is suffering. Crops are rotting and famine has spread throughout the realm, causing great distress across the three provinces. The once magnificent kingdom is steadily declining, magic is fading away and their connection to the Mother Goddess is at an all-time low. During a rare magical festival called The Reaping, a group of Newcomers arrive in Mórceath from a distant world. Traditionally, these Newcomers are set to work for the noble houses and are seen as little more than slaves. Among them, we have Ivy; a gentle but anxious girl of nineteen who finds her new life in servitude very difficult. But more challenges await her. She will come to play a major part in unravelling the mystery of the rot that currently plagues the realm, as well as possibly taking on an even greater task...if she proves herself worthy of it.

Follow Ivy on her journey of self-acceptance, discovering friendships, romance and exploring the mysteries of divine magic.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Books on Demand
• Release date: May 20, 2021
• ISBN: 9789180271530

Arnella Hobler

Arnella Hobler has dreamed of becoming an author ever since she was old enough to read and write. This dream finally came true with the release of her debut novel Leaves of Holly in 2021. Arnella lives in Sweden with her husband and their ferocious Pomeranian. She has a BA in History and loves all things old, especially porcelain. Apart from writing, she also enjoys drawing, walking in nature and exploring old castles. For news and updates, check out her YouTube channel Arnella Hobler or Instagram @arnellahobler.

Book preview

Journey

1 A Light in the Dark

Ivy kept her eyes on the dirty coffee cup on the desk. The bustle of her colleagues and customers ordering food could be heard outside the closed door – rush hour had begun. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to meet her manager’s eyes as he sat down opposite her.

‘I have some good news!’ he said.

‘Oh?’

‘As you know, several of our team will be leaving soon. That means we’ll be taking on some new employees. And I thought, since you’ve been here about a year now, I feel like it’s time you take on a more senior role.’

‘What does a more senior role entail, exactly?’ asked Ivy.

‘Train the new workers,’ he said, shrugging. ‘Assign tasks during busy hours, you know, be a team leader.’

‘I don’t think I’d be very good at that,’ she replied, blinking frantically as she lowered her eyes towards the dirty coffee cup again. ‘I’m fine remaining as I am, to be honest.’

Her manager looked surprised.

‘I was counting on you to step up here. You know there’s a higher pay with more responsibility, right?’

‘I understand that, but I can’t… I’m sorry, but I would rather just continue as before.’

‘I can’t say that I’m not disappointed,’ he said with a sigh. ‘I could really have used your help with this. But I can’t force you – it’s your decision.’

‘Again, I’m sorry–’

‘It’s fine. Anyway, you’re needed out there,’ he said with a nod towards the bustling kitchen on the other side of the door. ‘We can talk more after the holidays.’

Ivy resumed her work in a kind of trance, performing her tasks with robotic autonomy. When her shift ended, she slipped out through the back door with her head down. The nearly empty carpark was bright from the fresh snow; it crunched beneath her boots as she walked towards her car.

Ivy took a deep breath. She had sensed something like this coming; it had made her conflicted. She wanted the extra money – she needed it if she was ever to realise her dream of moving out of her parents’ house and set up a place of her own. Money meant independence, and so far, that independence was worth the discomfort of working at a fast-food restaurant.

But the added responsibility…training new employees…being a team leader. Ivy struggled to imagine herself in such a role. She could barely speak to more than one person at a time, let alone lead the team through busy hours. People would see right through her. They would think her a fraud…and they would be right.

She continued thinking about it as she drove home. The naked trees lining the county road looked eerie against the snowy landscape. Disappointment seemed to follow her whatever she did. First, her parents had been disappointed when she got the after-school job at the roadside restaurant, and even more so when she decided to continue working there after graduation instead of going to university.

Ivy caught sight of something in the corner of her eye heading towards the road. She hit the brakes, skidding somewhat as the car stopped. She squinted at the road, trying to see if the animal or whatever it was had passed, but all she saw was snow whirling in the wind.

She got out of the car to have a better look, and walked a few metres in front of it. There was nothing there. Ivy was just about to get back inside when a curious glint caught her eye – it came from across the nearby field. She stopped to gaze at it. There was something mesmerising about it; it shimmered so peacefully it was difficult to look away. As she stood there by the car door, a gust of wind came by, ruffling her chestnut hair. It carried with it a scent that was unusual for this time of year; something sweet, like summer flowers. But that couldn’t be right; it was December.

Ivy shook her head. Regardless of what it was, she couldn’t just stand there and block the road, so she got back inside and continued her drive home.

* * *

The sky had begun to darken as Ivy parked outside her family’s semi-detached house.

‘Hello there!’

Ivy jumped. There was a young man whom she didn’t recognise outside the neighbours’, shovelling snow off their carport.

‘You must be Ivy, right?’ he asked.

‘Correct. And you are…?’

‘Andrew Gardiner. I’m visiting my parents over the holidays.’

‘Right.’

Ivy remembered her mother mentioning the Gardiners having their son over for Christmas, along with a not-so-subtle hint about him being single.

‘I’ll see you later, then!’ he said with a wave, and resumed his snow shovelling.

‘Right,’ Ivy repeated and went inside.

As soon as she entered, her mother called for her to help with preparations. Ivy spent the remainder of the afternoon polishing the silver, chopping the salad and setting the table in the dining room. Their family dog, a corgi named Janek, kept close to her all afternoon, just in case she decided to take a break and give him a belly rub. When everything was nearly finished, she went to fetch some candles from their mahogany cupboard in the kitchen.

‘Look at him,’ said her mother as she stood by the window. ‘He’s very handsome, isn’t he?’

Ivy looked outside. There was Andrew again, hanging Christmas lights outside the Gardiners’ house.

‘Mum, stop staring. You’re being creepy.’

Marika smiled at her daughter and continued to polish the champagne glasses at the table.

‘You’re nineteen, it’s about time you get a boyfriend. You really shouldn’t have trouble finding one with those pretty hazel eyes of yours. I’m sure you would have found one already if you weren’t so…’

‘So what?’

‘Shy.’

Ivy’s cheeks reddened.

‘I have to go and get ready,’ she said curtly and went upstairs to her room.

On her bed was a bright red dress that her mother had laid out for her. Ivy took one disdainful glance at it before putting it back in her neatly organised wardrobe. Instead, she put on a black, knee-length dress and a green woollen cardigan over it. As she was buttoning it up, she thought about what a long day it had been. She had barely had time to reflect on what happened at work earlier. No doubt the conversation about her becoming a team leader would be resumed after the holidays. She would need to prepare herself for that.

Her thoughts circled back to what her mother had said in the kitchen. She did have pretty eyes – the colour shifted between green and brown depending on the light. But she wasn’t as confident regarding her other physical attributes; she was quite flat-chested and had no curves at all. After a moment’s contemplation, she added some mascara in an attempt to frame her one good asset. Observing the end result in her mirror, she found it satisfactory. Dignified – just how she liked it.

As she was about to go back downstairs, something in the mirror caught her eye – it was that mysterious shimmer again. She turned around and looked out the window, towards the little forest adjacent to their neighbourhood. There it was, dancing around among the pine trees. It was even clearer now that it was dark outside. Ivy was suddenly hit by an intense desire to go and investigate, and she was already half way down the stairs before she realised what she was doing. She blinked a couple of times, trying to remember what she was supposed to do. Right – she had to help her mum finish the preparations.

Marika gave her a reproachful look as she entered the kitchen.

‘Why are you wearing that?’

‘I like it. It’s poised.’

‘You wore it for your grandfather’s funeral. What happened to the dress I picked out for you?’

‘It’s too vulgar,’ she replied as she walked towards the window.

‘It’s red – that’s a suitable colour for Christmas. You should go and change, your father will be home any minute, and the Gardiners will be here soon.’

Ivy ignored her. Her gaze had once again found the shimmering light at the edge of the forest. It was strange how whenever she looked directly at it, all sounds seemed to fade. As if it was calling for her…

‘I’ll take Janek for a quick walk,’ said Ivy, upon which the corgi came running with great enthusiasm. Marika gave her permission somewhat reluctantly, and in less than a minute Ivy had her coat and boots on and was walking with determined steps towards the forest.

She passed the last streetlamp on the path behind her, entering the shadow of the trees. There she stopped and looked around. The light seemed to have moved further in; she couldn’t see it anymore. She knew it was there, though, due to the scent lingering in the air – summer flowers. She continued walking somewhat slower because of the darkness and uneven terrain. Despite it being dark, she wasn’t frightened. Ivy knew this place well – she had spent a large part of her childhood in there, hiding treasures, building huts with twigs and branches, or just pretending to be on some great adventure. All on her own. She thought about how big it had seemed to her as a child. The trees had felt large and imposing, hiding secrets beneath their roots. Every bush or rock held the potential of finding trolls or fairies. It had been an escape full of magical possibilities…but now it was little more than a detour to get to the bus stop faster.

A creaking sound in the snow behind her made her turn around.

‘What are you doing here?’ she asked.

Andrew’s expression told her he wasn’t there by his own initiative.

‘Sorry if I startled you. Your mother sent me – she was worried, didn’t want you wandering around in the dark by yourself.’

‘Right,’ she replied. Andrew might have been fooled by this excuse, but Ivy knew better.

‘May I join you?’ he asked.

‘Eh…sure.’

They continued in silence along the narrow path, going further into the dark forest. Ivy would usually find this extremely awkward, but she was too busy looking for the shimmering light to worry about conversation topics.

‘So…’ began Andrew, ‘you must be at uni now, I presume?’

‘Hmm? Oh, no.’

‘Not sure what you want to study?’

Ivy didn’t know what to answer. She was temporarily distracted from her search by his question. It had stirred some long-since buried thoughts and wishes. Like how she dreamed of travelling and experiencing other cultures – but was too scared to actually do it. How she longed to study history, art or fashion but lacked the determination required to make a career in any of those competitive fields. She couldn’t bring herself to share this, however, fearing that Andrew would judge her or find her silly.

‘Yeah,’ she replied. ‘What did you study?’

‘Economics,’ he said proudly.

Ivy nodded. She doubted he would understand her predicament. She turned her head to hide her scepticism from him – and that was when she saw it. Hovering a stone’s throw away from them was a ball of light, radiating warmth and that sweet, summery scent. Janek started barking – he didn’t seem to see it, but he sensed something was different.

‘Probably just seen a squirrel,’ said Andrew, who apparently couldn’t see it either.

‘It’s not a squirrel,’ answered Ivy absentmindedly as she left the path and started walking towards the light. This time, the light remained where it was. The closer she got, the more intense was the scent – and soon enough, it was joined by the distant sound of birdsong. Janek barked again, this time followed by him turning around and running back towards their house.

‘I think we should head back…’ said Andrew, pointing at Janek.

‘Not yet – I need to see it up close.’

‘Need to see what?’ asked Andrew, walking up beside her.

The light was hovering over a frozen pond, its reflection glittering in the ice. Ivy could almost reach it now. As she approached it, a buzzing sensation erupted in her chest, as if a swarm of bees had made a nest there. There was nothing she wanted more than to touch it. She reached out, penetrating the warm force field surrounding the light. Just as her hand was about to touch its surface, Andrew placed his on her shoulder.

‘Hey–’

At the touch of her hand, the light embraced them, Andrew’s voice fading behind her. For a split second, they were encased in unbearably strong and scorching light – then it all went black.

2 Through the Mist

Ivy’s senses woke up one at a time. First came her aching muscles, as if she had run a marathon the previous day. Then came the muffled sound of chirping birds somewhere close by. Lying on her back, Ivy tried to move her stiff muscles as she opened her eyes. For a moment she thought she had gone blind. Everything was a white, foggy mess, as if she had looked directly at the sun for too long. A few moments later her sight cleared up, showing the whiteness to be a thick mist, and a peaceful light gave the impression of dawn. The surrounding trees told her she was still in the forest, yet there was something different about it.

The air was warm, but that didn’t make sense. It was Christmas – had she slept until spring? With some effort she managed to sit up, removing her mittens and scarf. That was when she saw Andrew lying close by.

For several seconds Ivy was completely frozen where she sat, trying to understand what she was seeing. Andrew’s eyes were wide open, his expression showing fear.

‘Andrew?’ she asked carefully.

He showed no sign of having heard her.

She crawled up to him, putting her hand close to his mouth to see if she could feel his breath.

‘Can you hear me? Please, please, please wake up…’

Still, there was nothing. He displayed no signs of life at all. She shook his shoulders, yet he did not stir. His gaze was firm on something far beyond what she could see.

‘How curious,’ said a high-pitched voice behind her.

Ivy jumped and turned around. A small man with a long ginger beard was standing there. He seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. His clothes and overall demeanour reminded her of a garden gnome, although less colourful, and his face was rather grumpy. She blinked a few times to make sure he wasn’t a hallucination.

‘He must have entered with you,’ said the little man, squinting. ‘Very curious…’

He reached for his satchel and pulled out a quill, a tiny ink bottle and a piece of parchment.

‘Hrrm, no matter. Name?’ he asked.

Ivy was dumb-founded.

‘Wh-what happened to Andrew? Can you help him?’ she asked, trying to sound calm.

The little elf chuckled and shook his head.

‘Nothing to be done, nothing to be done! Now, I need your name.’

Ivy looked over at Andrew again, trying once more to see any sign of life. His face was wax-like. She had never seen a dead person before, yet she was sure he was, unless you can be alive and not breathe, or blink.

‘Your name, please,’ the elf repeated.

‘Ivy Wilson,’ she said, still looking at Andrew. The elf wrote it down. She thought of their parents awaiting their return. They were probably searching for them. Would they, too, come across the mysterious light? Her whole body was trembling now, and tears trickled down her cheeks.

The elf sighed and appeared to be contemplating something. Then he walked up to her, pulling a blanket and a flask out of his satchel. He wrapped the blanket around her shoulders as she sat there, crying quietly, and offered her the flask.

‘Take a sip! It will help.’

‘Wh-what is it?’ she asked.

‘Just some spirits, nothing strange,’ he replied as he took a sip himself.

With this reassurance, she accepted the drink. It was warm, sticky and sweet – and it seemed to do its job. Within a minute or so, a soothing sensation spread through her insides and calmed her down.

‘Thank you,’ she said, drying her cheeks with the back of her hand.

The little elf clapped his hands so suddenly it made Ivy jump.

‘Very well! Then we should get going.’

‘We? I’m sorry, but I must get home – my parents will be looking for me, for us, I mean…’ she looked around as if to see if they were approaching, but she didn’t recognise her surroundings. ‘Where are we?’

The elf looked startled, and after a moment of silence, he cleared his throat.

‘I bid you welcome, Newcomer, to Mórceath. My name is Bertu and I am your wayfinder; it is my noble task to show you to your new home,’ he said with the acuity of thorough preparation, adding a polite bow at the end.

This display made Ivy even more confused.

‘I’m sorry – what?’ she asked.

Bertu looked conflicted.

‘A long story. Not suitable to tell it here. We should get a move on though – we are wasting time.’

‘Now hang on just a second!’ exclaimed Ivy and looked around again, half expecting to see an entrance or something to remind her of the forest they had come from. The sound of Janek barking, or a bit of snow – anything would do. But all she saw were huge trees, bushes and flowers, all in bloom – with no signs of winter.

‘What happens if I don’t come along?’ she asked.

‘You will most likely die of either starvation or poisoning in this forest, depending on whether you choose to eat what you find,’ answered Bertu casually. ‘Also depending on what might find you, of course.’

‘That’s ridiculous. There’s nothing dangerous here,’ she said, still holding on to the idea of them being only ten minutes away from her house.

‘I suggest you come with me. That way you don’t have to find out,’ answered Bertu as he put his things back in his satchel.

Ivy considered her options carefully. The elf seemed friendly, and it looked as if he knew his way around. If he was telling the truth, then going on her own could potentially be dangerous, and Ivy was one to go with the safest option. She stood up slowly, her muscles making her legs wobbly as though they hadn’t been used for a long time. Then she was hit by a sickening thought.

‘But we can’t just leave Andrew here!’

She had not really known him, but she did not think he deserved to be left behind like that.

‘Not to worry, he will be taken care of,’ replied Bertu, and immediately started walking, seemingly pleased that she had finally been persuaded.

Convincing herself that what he said was true, she followed him, but kept looking back at Andrew’s body for as long as he was visible.

‘This is madness…’ she muttered, climbing over tree roots. ‘I must have entered some sort of comatose state… I’ve read about those. They can make you dream all sorts of odd things. But I hardly think they’re supposed to be like this…’

‘I can assure you, this is no dream,’ replied Bertu.

Ivy looked at him suspiciously, his little body moving along the terrain with nimble movements. Yes – it must be a dream of some kind. This couldn’t possibly be real.

The mist began to clear as they walked, making the forest more visible. Her curiosity increased with every step. The trees were large and regal-looking, as if they were proud to be standing there. The air was also different, not only warm and soft but there was something else, a scent both sweet and bitter. Ivy found it strangely comforting.

‘What is this place?’ she asked dreamily.

‘The woodlands of Mórceath,’ answered Bertu proudly, ‘although it would be known by other names in the realm you are from…if people still speak of it there.’

Ivy was overcome with fascination as she looked around. It was as though the forest itself sang to her in greeting, using birds and the rustling of leaves as its voice. A few rays of morning sun came through the treetops, the light glittering off the dewy moss on the tree trunks. This forest must be old – ancient, even.

As they walked on, the sound of flowing water reached them – they must be nearing a river or stream. Moments later, a small stone bridge became visible in the distance. The stream flowing underneath it had black water that didn’t reflect its surroundings. The current was slow, giving the impression that the water was thicker than normal. As they crossed the bridge, Ivy had a peculiar feeling of being weightless, and a soothing effect followed as they continued. Even Bertu slowed down somewhat as the effect came over them. Once they had reached the other side, Ivy felt a rush of contentment and calm.

‘The Stream of Sorrows,’ said Bertu. ‘It takes your sorrows as you cross it.’

‘Oh,’ said Ivy, looking curiously at the dense, black water. ‘But – how does that work?’

The elf gave her a disapproving look.

‘One might as well ask why the rain is wet or the sun is warm!’ he replied, pushing some of the undergrowth aside which revealed a path.

‘Okay…I have one more question, though,’ added Ivy as she followed him.

He sighed, but made no objections.

‘The effect from the stream, is it…permanent?’

Bertu scoffed.

‘No,’ he replied curtly, as if it had been yet another silly question.

Ivy pondered over the lingering effect. Normally, she would have wanted a more thorough response, but it was as if the stream had removed any need for logic. She was content, and that was all that mattered.

They continued walking, and the heat was getting to Ivy as she was still wearing her wool coat and boots. Bertu noticed her struggle and told her to drop the coat. It might have been because of the effect of the stream, but she followed his advice without hesitation, not realising she had her phone in her coat pocket.

They walked for what seemed like hours, for the most part in silence. Ivy would admire the scenery every now and then, but despite Bertu not sharing her enthusiasm, she noticed the occasional smug look on his face.

‘This forest is huge,’ said Ivy as they finally sat down to rest in a glade. ‘There is no sign of civilisation anywhere.’

‘There’s more to Mórceath than just the forest. We have great cities with palaces and lush gardens,’ he replied. ‘Beauty far beyond anything you have ever seen, I’m sure.’

‘Are we going to one of those?’ she asked, thinking that she might catch a bus or a train once they got there. Bertu opened his satchel and offered her water and some biscuits, which she accepted.

‘I’m taking you to the Market, but yes, eventually you will,’ he replied, taking a large bite of his biscuit.

Ivy did the same; it was quite crunchy with a nice taste of oats and dried berries.

‘These are very tasty,’ she said, ‘did you make them?’

Bertu looked at her for a second, seemingly startled.

‘Yes,’ he replied curtly, then turned his attention back to his biscuit.

Ivy grinned as she noticed a hint of redness on his plump little cheeks.

They finished their break, then continued hiking through the forest. Ivy’s dress was now both ripped and dirty, and she thought with relief how lucky it was that she hadn’t worn the much shorter dress her mother had chosen for her.

The light coming through the thick leaves was beginning to change. It must be late afternoon, Ivy thought. Within an hour, they arrived at what could clearly be defined as a proper dirt road with a crossing. Ivy marvelled at this; they had been hiking off-road for so many hours and her feet could hardly bear it anymore. She was just about to express her relief to Bertu when she noticed a wooden signpost on the side of the road. It was old and weathered, and it showed three different directions, but instead of words it had carved images. The top sign had a majestic tree that looked like an oak, the middle one had some kind of market stand and the lower one what looked like willow leaves. Tethered next to the signpost was a horse with a small cart. Bertu climbed up behind the horse, signalling for Ivy to take a seat behind him in the cart.

As they took off in the direction of the market sign, new questions formed in Ivy’s head.

‘So, what are we doing at the Market?’ she asked.

Bertu removed his shoes and began rubbing his knobbly little feet.

‘All roads lead to the Market. You have to go there first before you can move on.’

Ivy’s curiosity had peaked. She knew she ought to go home, but what could be the harm in seeing the Market first? Surely, it would be alright to explore for a bit before going back. Given everything she had seen and felt since she woke up in that misty glade, she was now quite sure this was no dream.

‘I don’t understand how this happened. Why am I here?’ she asked quietly, looking at the darkening sky through the leaves above them. An owl was hooting somewhere close by.

Her travel companion sighed, keeping his eyes on the road.

‘You will know soon enough. You should try to rest. We will have to travel through the night.’

3 The Blessing

A sudden shout and jerk pulled Ivy from her deep, dreamless sleep. She looked around, rubbing her aching back. Their cart had almost collided with another cart, and Bertu had shouted to avoid it. There was an elf like Bertu in the other cart, along with a young man with reddish curly hair. Their eyes met