The Night she arrived was rainy. A loud thunderous rap on the castle doors woke a young maid. The stranger was comely and exquisitely dressed. Her features were soft yet sharp. The unnatural tone of her red lips contrasted with her flawless and pale complexion. Her haunting beauty disguised the bird-like features: her sharp nose, her quick and darting dark eyes, and her slim figure.
“Get the King, I mustn’t stay long.”
The woman never waited to see if the maid obeyed orders. She threw her coat at the girl’s feet and proceeded to the next room to build a Fire. With a wave of her hand, a flick of Zabuerei made a Fire roar to life in seconds. The glow stretched across the ornate rugs of the parlor. The magic pulsated through the woman’s body as a small smile picked at the corners of her mouth.
Many carpets scattered the King’s parlor. A great fireplace dominated the North wall and a large window presented a view to the Eastern Waters. A cream chaise with gold fringe lounged against the mahogany walls and other sofa chairs sat about the room in various spots.
Except the South Wall. The South Wall was untouched.
“Evening ma’am,” The young King Issaan entered and nodded to the stranger. “Of what service may I be to you?” The King was dressed in simple robes- he didn’t waste much time in dressing. He hoped this was for the Prophecy. He had fixed his hair as best he could and placed all his rings on his right hand, but there was something misplaced about his appearance. Sleep.
“On the contrary ya’majeb,” Char began sweetly “it is what service I can do be to you.” The King was alert now.
“I see. And how might that be, m'yirl?”
“Ya’majeb,” she said frankly, “Imagine absolute chaos, Death everywhere.”
Easy enough¸ the King thought.
“There will be years of famine in your nation. Havoc will lurk around every corner. There will be no Hope.”
“I’m listening,” The King’s attention piqued
“King of Laskks, do you know who I am?”
“A concerned citizen?” The King was becoming bored with her games.
She stepped close to the King, he shifted his weight and looked her in the eyes; her aberrantly beautiful violet eyes glinted orange then yellow. They almost sparkled in the firelight. “No,” she said in a whisper. Then louder: “I am Char of Scorvu. I am your Hope.”
His eyes narrowed at her frail figure and haunting eyes. “What is your proposition ma’Dala Scorvu?”
“Simple.” She turned around and paced towards the large, marble fireplace. “For my services I shall require full immunity in every Island of the Realms.”
“How long will this agreement last?” He looked at his Hope quizzically.
“Until the End.”
The deal was finalized as Dala Scorvu kissed the King’s crimson ring.
By the time the strange woman left the palace, Dawn approached and the crisp rays of the first Sun stretched its fingers across the valley to warm the Dead.
***
In a time of peace, tragedy struck. There had been years of plenty, but now Laskks suffered a drought. Cattle fell like flies and the luscious green fields turned brown. The King had not prepared for such a disaster. For centuries, the Stars had blessed their people with food, water, peace, and happiness. Now crime struck every corner.
It was the method of survival.
His citizens starved and killed in the wake of the Moon for scraps of bread and meats. Families ripped at the seams. Fires licked at his City every Night. Homes disintegrated; stone huts lay in piles of rubble. Friends distanced themselves and all Hope was lost.
The King sought out advisors in the Temple. The SimpleElves, though blind, saw All, predicted there was Hope in the future.
“The near future ya’majeb,” they insisted. The King’s spirits lifted and he thanked the blind women and left their room.
Outside, a small priestess awaited him outside the silk curtains. The King was startled.
“Your rose is not safe in the Realms. You must take your rose far away or she will burn your rose. She knows the Prophecy ya’majeb,” her voice was barely above an eerie whisper. A bulbous eyed girl dressed in a simple, muslin garb stared at the green paint on the wall, but the King knew better, she did not see the chipped and cracked walls of the gold and stone Temple.
“Pardon?”
“Your rose is not safe. She knows,” the girl turned and left down the hall, away from the murderous and drunken clamor outside the streets. The King left to find his Queen Hazara.
The Stars favored him that day, for the Queen had news too. They were expecting a child. The King beamed with pride and love like no man before. That Night, Char arrived.
For months, the King was absorbed by the Queen’s growing belly. Char of Scorvu handled affairs and fueled her rule of the kingdom with hatred. The King spent all his time with his Queen, watching her, and his heir in absolute bliss. They never suspected.
The King and Queen were completely veiled by Reknai Anthur, a spell used to blind with lies; only the most powerful of the Sinath, the shapeshifters, are able to control this ability. Char had slipped into their lives and suffocated their ruling like a powerful snake.
Outside their chambers, the people of Laskks lived in a state of melancholy. Crimes went from slight snatches of cheese and breads and meats to murdering a man’s daughters simply because he was capable.
Char used the Reknai Anthur to blind her personal guard. She ordered that no citizen was to speak against her, under penalty of Death. They would stalk the streets throughout the Day, enforcing this thought.Many were executed on the spot without a second thought to show that she meant it.
One Day, a commoner managed to speak to the King. He snuck into the palace through a hidden passage in the City. He told the King everything: the blood that soaked the streets. The executions, rape, cold-blood murder, and the theft.
King Laskss was shattered. This was not Hope but Destruction. He gave the man a token and left to the Temple.
***
The King spoke to the Head Priestess about his Fortune for Hope. The woman smiled with a toothless grin, her brow high and her eyes squinted as though she could see. The priestess led the King into a red and gold chamber. Inside were many sofa pillows and cloths strewn about a circular fire pit. She lit incense and maple bark, as was custom, before the Chapter was spoken.
“Zabuerei, Dnae authu Some...Magic of the Realms, Speak your Peace” she said softly.
“Zabuerei, Dnae authu Some” the King repeated. The Head Priestess and the King continued to chant. She poured more Water onto the hot rocks and the room became humid.
“Stratius, Brae authu Weditum tunthu ...Stars, Speak your Wisdom to us. Heratu knie Paytei...Hear our Prayer. Zabuerei, titium tunthu authu Secerei...Magic of the Realms, show us your Way.” As the old woman spoke, she rocked back and forth and repeated as if in a trance. The King sat quietly, numbed by the Zabuerei and Prayed the ancient words when he could.
“Zabuerei, Dnae authu Some. Stratius, Brae authu Weditum tunthu. Heratu knie Paytei. Zabuerei, titium tunthu authu Secerei. Heratu knie Paytei...knie Paytei...knie Paytei….. Zabuerei, titium tunthu authu Secerei…authu Secerei…..Secerei….” she said.
***
The Head Priestess stopped “Ya’majeb you face much heartache. And much joy” she spoke slowly and her hands lifted in front of her face.
“A Child, I See, a Gifted One, full of wondrous power. She will bring Hope to our people.” The woman paused with a toothless grin, “With Destruction comes Hope. With Heartache comes Joy.”
“Hope?” Where was this Hope? The King thought bitterly.
“With Destruction comes Hope. With Heartache comes Joy.”
“Madam Segreame?”
“With Destruction comes Hope. With Heartache comes Joy.” She had fallen asleep praying to the Stars for the good Chapter. He left.
The Queen was due soon. He had to take action. The King wrote his closest companions: PebbLark and Babbalou. Pebb was the Duke of Lenfa and the Elfen General. Babbalou was his closest friend in the Sperrceld tribes and their Doctor. Within Days they had met the King in his personal chambers, discussed, and executed their plans for their little Hope.
On the Night their Child was born, they slipped it away to the Arol world, to live with a family of Arols, humans for nearly twenty years. When the time came, they would bring the Child back to the Realms of Jeandi to bring Peace to the Lands.
***
The Child was born on the Night of the Rocterii. King Issaan stood on a balcony outside his Queen’s rooms and awaited the announcement. The King walked to the balcony edge and looked over his city. Drunken flames licked at thatch roofs and the weak were slaughtered in solid movements.
How is my Child to save this world? The King’s face contorted and his heart sank. The nurse stepped out to the balcony, with Babbalou and Pebb behind her.
“Ya’majeb,” Peggy spoke quietly, “There is someone who would like to meet you”. In the nurse’s arms was his beautiful little girl. She was wrapped in a soft blanket, her chubby, pink fingers hitting the open air. Her soft lashes swept as the babe dreamt.
“Hello m’yirl,” the King spoke softly into her ear and planted a kiss on her bald head. His heart sank fathoms deeper and his eyes pricked with shame.
“What shall her name be, Issaan?” PebbLark asked.
“Roselyn.” The King answered firmly.
Chapter One
Spring is coming, Roselyn thought. The air was fresh and crisp as she hiked up the winding path from her family’s hut to the well every morning. Roselyn carried- more like juggled- two large gourd-shaped skins and three smaller ones, all tethered together with a piece of rope. Roselyn let the smaller ones drag in the dust while she struggled with the two large ones, holding them clumsily in her arms.
“Blast!” She said under her breath.
The rain from the night before stubbornly clung to the leaves and clustered en masse in the ruts that dotted the path. The path twisted three times. Tree branches hung above the road like a great canopy and allowed a small amount of sunlight to filter through. Though beautiful, weary travelers were never guaranteed to pass through Rantau Way unscathed.
People said the well just appeared one day some years ago. It laid peacefully in a crescent patch of grass some yards away from the hostile limbs of the Rackne Forest. It was encrusted with beautiful gems from the Goddess herself. No man has ever been able to uncover those same gems while in the quarry- naturally, the village would believe it is the divine art of the Goddess.
As Roselyn approached the well, she appreciated each sparkle. She never minded the hike up to the well, it was the chores themselves she despised. When she returned home, there would be an unbelievable amount of chores for her mother, sister and herself. There would be cooking and cleaning. Baking and and boiling. Preparing meals for her father and brother. Dusting, sweeping, and doing the laundry. Then there would be more cooking, where they would more cleaning.
This was the reason why Roselyn took advantage of what she had now. Roselyn knew she could not dawdle, there were chores waiting for her; but how could she neglect the beautiful scenery? Every morning as the sun rose from the east, encouraging the birds to sing out while the sun’s rays danced on every dewy surface, Roselyn admired each gleam, every precious stroke of the sun.
Roselyn came around the last turn and entered the patch of green surrounding the well. She dropped the old bucket and retrieved the cold water. Roslyn carefully poured from the bucket and into the skins for water.
“Morning Mama!” Roselyn exclaimed, bursting through the clay hut’s shabby door.
“Oh my!” Sara exclaimed, turning from the hearth. “Yes good morning to you too, Rosie.” Roselyn’s mother was the most beautiful woman in village. She had exquisite, pure blue eyes, a clear complexion and long dark red tendrils. Sara Tedore had gifted all her children the same beauty.
Except me, Roselyn thought bitterly. She didn’t gift me.
There was always something different about Roselyn, something that made her out of place with the rest of the Tedore Family, and an icy sadness clung to her at all times.
“Where’s Papa and Simon?”
“They have already gone for the quarry, my dear,”said her mother as she toasted three oatcakes. “Which means,” Sara continued with renewed vigor as she stood straight, “we can make some tea to have with breakfast.”
“Oh joy! Truly?” Roselyn practically shouted. Sara knew how much her daughters enjoyed drinking tea with oatcakes and apples. Roselyn thought of it as a special treat that was enjoyed once in a blue moon. Between the multitude of chores and tutoring their mother personally provided, it was rare to enjoy a nice cup of tea and honey. “Where’s Piper? Is she up yet?”
“Right here,” a voice reported groggily. Having just woken up, Piper stumbled into the mainroom from the girls’ shared bedroom. Her hair was ruffled like a bad tempered goose, and Roselyn admired her sleepy beauty. She wondered if she ever looked that beautiful herself. Roselyn immediately doubted it. Piper shivered as she walked into the living room and sat at the kitchen table.
“Roselyn dear, could you go fetch the honey from the pantry?” Roselyn’s mother continued toasting the oatcakes and began boiling water over the fire for the tea.
“Can’t Piper do it? I just fetched the water from the well,” Roselyn wined. I’m always doing extra chores, Roselyn thought resentfully.
“Roselyn Ann Tedore,” her mother’s scold quickly silenced her and she solemnly slunk outside to the pantry but not before she stubbornly stuck her tongue out at her sister and received the same response.
A Parents Love
Outside the hut, Racknau village stirred awake as women, children, and the elderly emerged from their huts and greeted one another with silent nods and peaceful smiles.
“Greetings Roselyn”, she looked up to see her uncle walking from the village center with a bundle of groceries and a bouquet of flowers.
“Morning uncle.”
“These are for your mum” he handed the bouquet to Roselyn. “Be a dear, will ya, and please give these to her. Hmm, yes?” Uncle Jack smiled with his rotted teeth. Since his own marriage, he had taken up drinking as another pastime.
Jack and John Tedore were in-love with the same woman. John Tedore was the one who could call her his wife. While Jack on the other hand married some homely woman as soon as he could. She can’t hold a candle to my mama, Roselyn thought. Jack never paid her any attention. She was only his wife by law.
“Yes Uncle,” Roselyn received the flowers, “I will give these to her right away, thank you.”. Her uncle said no more. He walked down the lane to his own hut and Roselyn quickly raced to the pantry for the honey.
“Who are those from, Rosie?” Her mother asked when she had returned.
“Uncle Jack,” Roselyn responded.
“Oh how nice of him,” she said unconcerned. Sara was used to this behavior.
“Yes, it is quite the surprise, isn’t it Mama.” Piper said wryly. She emerged from their bedroom, finally in a maroon dress and white apron. Her dress enhanced the color of her jade green eyes and lovely complexion; it was clear and pale, and she had dark locks. She is extraordinary to say the least, Roselyn thought.
Their mother finished toasting the oatcakes in the hearth and proceeded to wrap them in a cheesecloth and placed them in a basket in the middle of the table. Piper set to collecting cups and Roselyn put the napkins next to the jar of honey and pewter dishes. Her sister sliced the apples and Sara said a silent morning prayer before eating.
The tea was weak, the apples soft, but the oatcakes slid down their throats with ease. After the meal, Piper and her mother cleared the table. Roselyn was sent to wash dishes behind their hut.
Outside, Roselyn stooped down beside the washtub and tossed the pewters dishes in. I am always doing extra chores, she thought, Piper never has to do this many. Roselyn poured some cold water into the tub and rubbed the lye soap with a damp cloth. The soap found its way into her cracked hands and stung. Roselyn hissed. She hated this chore.
Then she remembered: Today is laundry day. She groaned at the thought, knowing full well that she would go to bed tonight with drier hands with more cuts and cracks than the quarry! All because of the the blasted soap!
Her mother would hang the laundry after Roselyn was finished with the washing. She has it easy, Roselyn thought bitterly.
Then came a knock at the door.
“Roselyn,” Sara asked softly, “could you come in please?”
“Yes Mama.” She sighed. What now?
“Mrs. Martha Oxens is here to visit,” Sara informed her. “Will you be a dear and make some tea?”
“Yes Mama.”
Mrs. Oxens was always good company. Martha often came to update their mother with the latest gossip. Instead of doing the laundry today, they were able to spend the afternoon listening to the latest news of the entire village. From the Arnels to the Vasels, Martha always found out every morsel of information on everyone in the village.
Roselyn prepared four cups of hot tea and set them on the table, and Piper arranged the sugar and creamer in the center. Martha Oxens inhaled the steamy aroma from her cup before setting sail on her wild tales.
“Rumor is that Mr. and Mrs. Sandlier will soon announce that their daughter, Rachael, is ready for marriage and they are hoping to find your Simon Tedore amongst the suitors” Martha’s chatter had begun. Mrs. Oxens spoke with a certain tone that always settled people’s attention on her. Roselyn thought her presence to be the most entertaining thing in her world. Martha continued to ramble on about the Flin’s sow and then the Perter’s new door color, oh how she hated it!
“Orange!!? Such an awful color for the spring!” and then,
“Young Richard and Lucy are planning to marry and have finally begun their courtship! AH!!! Young love!” She fanned her cheeks with her meaty palm. “ It is good for the spring!” Martha finally took a breath and she sipped quickly at her tea.
Just then, Roselyn’s father and brother walked in. The sun had risen to high noon and it was time for them to be home before their afternoon hunt.
“Hello my Darlings!” Roselyn’s father announced. “How are you Beautiful?” Roselyn’s father always doted on her mother.
“Fine, thank you, John” her mother replied.
“Afternoon Mrs. Oxens,” Papa said with an accompanied nod. “Still filling the village with your dubious news?”
“Afternoon Mr. Tedore,” responded Martha with a sardonic grin. She stood to take her leave and bid the family a farewell.
“Any news of anyone actually wanting to marry you two crones?” Simon laughed wholeheartedly at his own joke.
“Oh you brat!!” Piper exclaimed and took a swing into the open air near him, they laughed at the sport.
Simon was a fair mix their mother and father. He had John’s raven black hair and broad shoulders, although they had not yet quite filled. He has a way to go, Roselyn insisted. Simon had the same color of eyes as their mother’s that expressed honesty in the purest of ways. He was also sensitive and tended to wear his heart on his sleeve. And as rumor did hold true, Simon did have hope to marry Mr. and Mrs. Sandlier’s daughter, Rachael.
“Good afternoon, Papa” Piper said pleasantly with a bright smile.
“Well if it isn’t my darling Piper!”
“Afternoon, Papa,” Roselyn said.
“Afternoon and hello, Roselyn.” John replied with a small smile playing on his lips.
“How was the quarry?”
“Wonderful, my dears. And how was your day?”
“My day was…” suddenly he was distracted when his wife brought a warm meal up to his nose.
“Oh my,” he followed the plate with his eyes from nose to the kitchen table “This is delicious, Sara.” Her father licked his lips gratefully. “Mmm, thank you my Sara”,
“Papa,” Roselyn repeated, attempting to win her father’s attention back.
“Hm? Oh yes, dear. I am listening.” John insisted.
“Yes of course, Papa,” she replied flatly. Roselyn rolled her eyes and decided to let it pass. I didn’t have anything to say anyways, she tried to tell herself.
When Simon and John finished their meals Sara was collected the men’s plates. Then they left the hut to gather their hunting supplies. They would be back after dark.
Not far from Jack Tedore’s hut stood a man, hidden in the shadow of the woods that stretched all the way to the next village. He watched carefully as a man and his son trailed out of their hut towards the hunting shed to retrieve some supplies for their evening hunt.
But the man in the shadows wasn’t interested in the Arols that lived in the hut, let alone the Arols that lived in that village. He was interested in the girl who lived in that house with the Arols; the youngest daughter of one they called John Tedore.
Jack Tedore rustled out of his hut to retrieve hunting supplies also and then joined his brother and nephew. The man in the forest blended with the dark shadows and greenery of the forest that had become almost like home during the past seventeen years.
Soon, the man thought, soon it will be time to be seen.
PebbLark silently returned to the center of the woods, towards his camp to join the other men. Originally, these men had been selected to protect PebbLark (should anything come up) but now they had become close friends.
“Any luck?” one of the guards causally asked his commander. Pebb grunted in response. The man slouched on his satchel beside the fire. The soldier chewed on a twig while swinging one leg propped over the other.
PebbLark had aged more than he should have, had he and his men spent the last seventeen years on the Other Side, in their homes. His hair was its usual silvery grey but his face had more crevices than the face of the Arol moon itself. Oh, how I miss Home, PebbLark sighed to himself. He wished he could see his wife and children. He longed for their touch and to see how much they had grown.
He then remembered it was almost the end of the month and his eldest son would be coming soon to visit during their last month in the Arol world.
Soon, he thought, soon. We just need to wait until the Rocterii.
The Rocterii is the time at which all the planets in every dimensions were aligned and when one can travel to and from the Arol world and the Realms of Jeandi. The well in the Rackne Forest allowed anyone from the Realms to travel to the Arol world at anytime of the year. However, you could only return to the Other Realms on the Night of the Rocterii.
Pebb sat on a wooden crate beside the empty fire pit and reminded himself for the last time that Day: With Destruction comes Hope. With heartache comes joy. All he could do was wait. For exactly what, he did not know.
A young man sat in the window of his study, staring at the Sky and for the umpteenth time, calculated the time of Day. As a child, he had discovered-more quickly than others his age- what his Gift was. He was a SunElf. He could look to the Sky and know the exact minute of the Day and the position of every planet in every dimension. It was for that reason he was given the name Ray. RayLark was the son of PebbLark-the SummerElf King’s closest companion and Duke of Lenfa.
Ray was the eldest son, with four sisters and two brothers (an annoying set of twins). He resembled his father the most except for his eyes. He had his mother’s eyes, grey and fiery. Two of his sisters also shared their mother’s eyes. But his sisters took after their mother more. Their eyes would go ablaze at any sign of irritation but then, just as quickly, a cool fog would roll in, and they would turn grey, cloudy, and calm. RayLark was not like his sisters; he was like his father and that entailed a permanent calm that quieted his soul, consequently a fire never blazed in his eyes.
RayLark calculated the time and performed the math once again. Two more days until he traveled to the Arol side.
Two more days until he saw his father.
Two more days until he caught a glimpse of his betrothed!
But an entire month until he would be back in the Other Realms. Ray pushed the thought down deep.
There’s no reason I should be excited for an Arol, he thought. But even he knew otherwise. Pebb had told his son how much she had grown and how much more beautiful she had become.
Pebb had compared her hair to that of a Sunset and said her eyes were as grey as stones found in the stream nearby his camp. That was four summers ago. Ray just could not help but picture her as some scrawny, ordinary, grey, formless sort of a woman.
I haven’t even seen the girl, he brewed.
She is probably dull, and dreadfully uninteresting. Ray was excited and nervous. He was curious. And in the last few days, had grown more and more so.
Ray pushed away his thoughts once more. He needed to prepare for the trip. It could not come any sooner. Tonight he was to pack belongings that would last the month and in the morning he would pay a gondolier for his boat to take him and a companion to Ragnims Island. On that night he and his companion would slip through the portal to the Arol world. He would see his father. Until then, he would just check the Sky again and again and again....
A small hobgoblin began packing his belongings in an old sack. He packed a small picture of his wife and children first, after that a pair of trousers and a couple of shirts. For the next month he would have to spend it with elves so he also packed a bag of mint for Good Fortune and because his wife told him that he stunk!
Babbalou was a lifelong friend of PebbLark. He had agreed to stay behind seventeen years ago while Pebb watched over the girl in the Arol world. How he has ever managed, thought Babbalou, as he rummaged for some clean undergarments. He wondered how Pebb looked after seventeen years on the Other Side with little returns. I’ve hardly ever been on the Other Side and I still look like an old bat!! He chuckled to himself and continued to pack.
Black water was laid out before her like a sheet of ice. Roselyn sat in a vessel and a large, orange orb floated above the mountain range. She shivered and realized she only wore her blue dress and slippers. She didn’t know where she was.
There were men taking her across the waters towards an island that seemed to ooze with…dangerous intentions…it was enchanting.
Roselyn was oblivious of the men surrounding her on the strange long boat. She didn’t know who they were. Two men stood at the front, they looked the same in the hazy moonlight. Thousand upon thousand bright stars dotted the night sky. They clustered near the moon, they seemed gravitated to her. The spoke in a tongue she wouldn’t be able define, and two more sat on her left and right. No one spoke to her. The men at her sides only pulled the boat along with the oars. Another sat at the back, using the rudder to steer them towards the island.
With horror, Roselyn noticed the skull masks covering their faces.
A scream erupted amongst the men and all turned to face her. It was Roselyn screaming.
Roselyn pulled from her sleep with a start. Her breath was caught in her heavy and caged chest; her mind was spinning.
Morning, she reminded herself, time to fetch the water. Roselyn took a breath, and sat up in bed. Piper snored beside her, unaware of her movements. Roselyn’s hair was a massive, and tangled red mess. She lifted her comb from the window sill and pulled out the knots, then loosely braided it into a plait. Roselyn was never delicate with her appearance. She stretched down to pull on her itching wool stocking up and then her boots. Then rushed to the kitchen to fumble with the skins.
Once outdoors, Roselyn immediately felt better. The air wasn’t suffocating like the hut. Roselyn felt safe and at peace with the spring air. Usually the brisk morning air nibbled at her legs, and gave her goose flesh; it would nestle in her clothes and she could never shake it off. But today, she could hardly feel the cold. Roselyn felt good. Something is wrong, she told herself. Nonsense, a voice whispered back.
The walk to the well was almost too easy this morning. Before she knew it, her gaze fell to the twinkling gems embedded in the crust, Roselyn smiled to herself. Hello old friend, she thought unconsciously.
Something stirred inside Roselyn. The gems mixed and the stones seemed to have history. A connection. Such contrasting objects should never have been paired together, what was the Goddess thinking? Roselyn gazed intensely at the well and its gems seemed to come alive before her eyes, her pulse quickened and became louder to Roselyn’s ears. The world began to melt away….
The gems, Roselyn thought breathlessly, they are so beautiful,
“Yes,” a voice chuckled, “of course they are.” A woman’s voice.
Where did they come from? Roselyn asked.
“They come from where you were born.” There were gems of all colors: garnets, topaz, jaspers and moonstones. Fluorite, amethyst, carnelian, and aventurine; they all dazzled before her.
Born? Roselyn thought distantly Where I was born? Roselyn looked up to the voice and saw nothing.
The world became solid beneath her feet. How long have I been standing here? Roselyn dumped the bucket inside the beautiful and mysterious well collected the water, spilled most while pouring into the skins and hurried home.
***
The man lurking in the shadows hadn’t missed a thing.
Pebb had followed Roselyn to the well while remaining hidden by the woods. After she had returned to the clay hut, Pebb made his way back to the campsite. He thought about his son and lifelong friend, Babbalou. He couldn’t wait to see the two again. One more day. Just one more day.
At full Moon, Pebb would take a path through the woods to meet Ray and Babbalou at the well. From this Night and until the Rocterii the men and his son would strategize. How were they to get Roselyn to the Realms? Pebb thought purposefully. She’s curious enough. But why had she stayed so long? Is it possible that she was growing stronger, though Pebb knew well enough. No, it impossible. She is in the Realms, and Roselyn is here.
***
Roselyn stopped at the hut’s worn down front door and let all the skins drop, not caring if they spilled. Thoughts consumed her mind.
What on earth just happened back there? A woman spoke to me as though she was right at my side.
She did.
She really did. It happened.
All those beautiful stones.
Roselyn kept her thoughts things mundane: who knew the Goddess was so gifted? Roselyn was absorbed by the phenomenon.
Sara and Piper had already started cooking breakfast, Roselyn’s stomach clenched and groaned but her mind was elsewhere. She left the skins where they were and tip-toed behind her uncle’s hut and slipped into the Rackne Forest.
***
Babbalou checked his watch once more before ascending the palace stairs. Lenfa Palace was carved out of Moonstone and glossed with pure amber at the steps. This palace was one of Babbalou’s favorites on the Island.
He snaked his way through the palace and found a large and long corridor with tall windows absorbing the Western wall. The Suns shone brightly and the hall looked pure and beautiful. A young man stood facing the window, dignified and serious as he gazed out the window. A calculating glare contorted his face. Babbalou chuckled at the Duke’s son, RayLark.
“Babbalou!” Ray exclaimed, regal behaviors dissolving.
“Morning, Ray”
“Shall we go now, Babba?” Ray titled his head towards the large window in the massive hall; He hinted at the direction towards Ragnims Island.
“We shall milord.” Babba responded with a wink. He had known RayLark since he was a small boy and was proud to be accompanying him with this ‘adventure’ to seek out his betrothed.
Babbalou wondered at what Roselyn would look like. He wondered if she was bright, or how she was faring in the Arol world with her Arol family. Babbalou couldn’t help but wonder the last part with a sense of bitterness. He felt sorry for the girl. Babbalou even wonder if she had been experiencing things. Things that she could not explain.
She shouldn’t. She is far enough from her. He assured himself. And safe. Last anyone had heard, Char of Scorvu spends her Summer Days in the Gold Mountains between the Ongililia and Montinau Region.
Ray was equally curious and excited. He even had a little skip to his step as they walked down the front steps of the palace and to to pay a little visit to a gondolier.
***
Pebb heard her footsteps and went utterly still.
“Eaushnai aucemi tu sthay” he whispered in a hurry. She comes this way. PebbLark’s men quickly scrambled out of her way, unbeknownst to Roselyn. A Charm surrounded his men; they and the equipment Fade from view.
This was the first time Pebb or his men ever came so near to Roselyn. He was quite impressed by her. She was daring, curious and very beautiful. Roselyn crept closer to the center of camp. All the men were intrigued. She walked with an air of confidence and regality.
***
Roselyn found herself in the center of the Rackne Forest and felt nothing. Roselyn walked further into the clearing and thought she saw a shadow. She thought it would be the women from the well. When she turned around she saw nothing but a swept clearing and dozens of bushes shrinking into the forest. This is all wrong, she fumed.
“I know you’re out there!” she shouted. “You should show yourself!”
There was no response. Roselyn thought to herself, what if someone is out there and sees me? What if they tell Papa I am mad? Roselyn turned back and made her way to the shabby clay hut.
***
They headed West. Ray plodded through the Walden Waters to Ragnims Island with the oarlock in hand. The exercise was invigorating for RayLark, he was so excited that the Suns burned brighter and hotter, further improving his mood.
The waves were fair and they made good timing. Babbalou lounged happily in the largest gondola Lenfa City had to offer and enjoyed the warmth of the three Suns.
“Did you hear,” Babbalou began as he smacked on an epplef berry, “the Prophecy proclaims she will be Master of Gifts. She will be able to obtain all Gifts.”
“Is that so?” Ray replied distracted and dreamy, “Father told me her hair is like the Sunsets.”
“Your brother Artis, you know what he told me?” Babbalou plopped another slice of fruit in his mouth and juice dribbled down his thick skinned chin. He wiped it away cheerfully.
“What’s that?” Anything his twin brothers did was entertaining.
“He told me that the Hope Child was to marry him someday!”
“Benjimiint told me the same thing! They argued for a week for the hand of the Princess!” The two laughed hard at the boys’ innocence. “I had to explain to them that the Gifted Ones in King Laskss’s Temple have claimed that we are to marry someday,” Ray continued sheepily. “The SimpleOnes do say she will bring Peace and Order to all the Realms. Once and for all.” Babbalou said, now serious.
“I know,” Ray sighed.
“They also say she will be Tormented with Dreams.”
“I know.” Their conversation died, the mood turned somber, and silence built between the two.
***
A warm Fire glowed on PebbLark’s cheek as he and his men circled around, singing, and tried to be merry. Tomorrow his son and closest friend would arrive. Then there will be reason to celebrate, Pebb thought. His twin soldiers, Pib and Pab, provided hours of entertainment as one strummed a yiteer and the other sang a cheerful song that lulled everyone to sleep.
But Pebb was restless this Night. He stood from the Fire and walked away from camp to a brook that supplied the well. It was peaceful to say the least. All was quiet except brook stream. The trees seemed to glow as the light of the Arol moon and Pebb actually caught himself marveling it’s Arol beauty. How he missed his family.
One last month.
***
“Good Stars! What was that, Ray?”
“I-I-I don’t know.” Without warning, their vessel had hit something in the water with a low thump. “The Waters shouldn’t be shallow here.” Ray peered over the edge.
An object lurked and squirmed beneath the surface. Ray squinted hard against the Suns to see. The weather greyed, waves licked at the boards. A light rain began to drizzle. More objects came. They squirmed and wriggled. They spurred to the surface.
“Mermaids,” Ray gasped. He rushed away from the side of the boat and grabbed the oar just as two FishFolk to emerged from the Water and hung their arms on the side of the gondola.
“Hello, young Sailor”, one purred, eyeing RayLark with a slick smile. The mermaid was pale , young and beautiful. She had large, green eyes and her long, blonde hair was slicked back and draped over one shoulder. Her companion was equally beautiful, and had thick dark curls. Both only wore necklaces to cover their bodies. They made their jewelry with shells, pearls and discarded gems from shipwrecks.
“Hello there ehh- ladies,” Babbalou interjected awkwardly. Rain fell harder and Lighting streaked the Sky. The mermaids reluctantly turned their attention to the crumbled, brown sack of flesh speaking to them, “We are just passing through...And we r-r-really are in q-q-quite a hurry...s-s-so,” Babbalou stammered, “so if you wouldn’t mind we would like t-t-to- ”
An angry screech filled the air and a thunderous crack sounded off. The beautiful faces perched on the side of the boat were gone. Instead scornful teeth flashed at Ray and Babbalou.
“We did not ask you, ‘goblin!” The brunette hissed.
“If we wanted your opinion we would have approached you!” The blonde added. The mermaids left in an instant. The rain slowed to a drizzle before the two were on their way again to Ragnims Island.
***
The morning Suns rose up and beamed into Babbalou and Ray’s eyelids. They had slept the Night before near the well. Suns rose higher and higher.
Ray and Babbalou both knew it. It was time to visit the Arol world. They stepped closer to the well. The Water gurgled as its expected visitors came closer. Ray stepped onto its lips and dropped their bags down the tube. The Ragnims Well belched in delight. Then, Ray hoisted Babba down and then he was gone.
It was Ray’s turn. He lowered himself into the water; it was a startling kind of cold, a kind that didn’t freeze but sent shivers all around his body. The water rose around his abdomen, then swallowed him whole.
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