Mirages- Chapter Five

1

Chapter Five:2

The northland borders radiated a calm and peaceful strength in the center of chaotic darkness. Songs woven by the Northland Priests echoed through her head as she lounged on the soft cushions of the chair, black hair slung over one shoulder. The red, blazing sun dipped its way across the gray northland sky, leaving tinges of its color streaking the otherwise colorless sky. To her own eyes, the shadows seemed to slink from her home as if they had never come to haunt them.3

Pale arms wrapped around her slender waist, she continued to gaze out of the plain wooden window from the sharp drop down the side of the castle. What lay down there was lost in the inky darkness cast by both the castle shadows and the shadows of the cliff that guarded its east side, and the side from which danger was likely to come, at that.4

Fierce green eyes sparkling with the joy of freedom, she directed her gaze out of a similar window to the south, towards the land of the people that tried to label there people as savage, that tried to label there land as a barren, lifeless, desolate plain void of colors, void of laughter and life. True the assumptions of most that the darkness plaguing both the northland and the Southland originated from somewhere near the Southland/northland borders; it was also true that the evil has chosen the ruined cities of Kurl as a refuge from the glare of the sun. It wasn't fair!5

Rage sweeping through her eyes, she forced her gaze to steady, arising to her feet as her hairdresser approached. "Hello, Raka. I was not expecting you for another hour or so". Raka, a fierce, red-haired woman approaching about fifty but looking no older than twenty, smiled absent-mindedly, tugging on the long, white draping sleeves of her robe.6

"Well, I supposed that since Her Highness requires not my skill at this somewhat late hour I could attend the princess, who is grateful for my skills, wherever they may be at most moments. Are you satisfied with this explanation, Lekynra?” Lekynra smiled slightly at the dry humor, repositioning herself on the cushion as Raka produced the brush.7

Running it gently through her hair, Raka began working silently, humming a wordless tune that seemed tragic and sorrowful, but mingled with the sounds of hope and joy, and the clamor of war and the cry of death. It was depressing and sad, but in it Lekynra heard shouts of joy and songs of hope. Curious, Lekynra followed the pale arm to the part of her arms normally hidden, surprised to find a crisscrossing of stars exploding across the otherwise pale underside.8

"What happened?" Raka seemed slightly surprised at this question, though she did not betray any embarrassment.9

"I do not believe you have the time for tales from an old woman. Besides we would be here for another few months simply discussing the details of why I was treated so horrible, it is that intricate and complex. However knowing that you are a curious girl, much like my own daughter had been. Once, around ten years or so ago before I found myself your hairdresser, I lived in the Southland, which was poised for war because of a petty tyrant that had risen to enormous power.10

A sniveling coward he was, and since I portrayed everything that the Elvin Warriors stood for, courage, confidence, strength, speed, sense of honor, and intelligence to name but a few, he had me imprisoned and my husband and brother killed. Luckily my daughter possessed an accurate sense of trouble, and knew it was to strike and slipped away from both incidents unharmed. But pardon me; I do tend to go into a great deal of detail when it comes to explaining things.11

So one night, almost four months after my imprisonment, I happened to be lucky enough to lure the guard to my cell with a ruse, which I myself must admit was very clever. Then, I simply rid him of his keys, which he so honestly did not need, and escaped. I learned a bit of haircutting and dressing off a street magician and then hurried to the northland."12

Raka put finishing touches on the relatively simple braid, fiddling with a golden coin on a thin silver chain, finger tracing the foreign carving, mouth whispering some Southland song. "Wind whispers through the trees, fires burning towards the seas. Laughter echoing through my mind, Shouts of joy and hope through the very threads of time. Yet darkness gathers there in the heart, and what we once strived so hard to complete fell apart. Listen to the echoing melodies, striving so hard to be sung, here the ringing of the bells, for so long unheeded or heard, calling us through time itself to restore the land to its health."13

The sheer simplicity of it startled Lekynra; simplicity was not often a quality found in the Southland songs. But the message of this one was clear and startlingly, and the fierce, strong girl, who had never trembled about anything before, found her knees trembling with fear. Raka stopped her fiddling with the coin, smiling slightly.14

"Oh dear. I do behave so childishly at times, do I not? But you see, this coin was my last present from my husband... and it is my last link to my past. Ah but the mutterings of an old lady to get quite old sometimes, don't they, dear Lekynra"? Without waiting for an answer, Raka turned around, the white robes enfolding her slender form billowing out as if blown by some breeze.15

Jwerin moved restlessly through the sunlit streets that bordered the palace, slightly sunburnt hands shading his eyes from the glare. A small cloud of dust rolled into the sky behind him, but this and the faint imprints momentarily left on the vague, shadowy path soon faded into nothingness as if it had never even been there. Just like the shadows. At night's departure they had fled back to the northland, ceasing to exist.16

While it did succeed in relieving him of a deal of fright it only bothered him a good deal, more trouble on his mind than had been relieved. Deep in thought, he failed to notice a silver-haired, innocent-faced, and blue-clad female slipping from the crowd until he felt her light hand falling onto his shoulder. Jumping slightly, and Jwerin peered at the girlish face of Kastel, barely able to hide the smile that began to spread across his face. Pushing back his long, unruly black hair, Jwerin embraced Kastel, noting with a flash of terror that a hint of sorrow and grief was in her eyes.17

"What's wrong?” His voice was almost lost in the yell of the audience, but he could tell from the unsure look on her face that it had everything to do with the incident Kastel had just recalled seeing in the vision.18

"She's gone.” The words hit him hard, harder than he had expected they should. After all, they barely knew anything about this Aerian girl other than the fact her mother, father, and brother were all dead, she was an orphan alone in the streets, and had survived the past ten years with thieving. And it hit him exceedingly hard at that.19

Wave after wave of terror engulfed him; terror that consumed whatever hope had been left. She was well and truly gone, and the darkness had succeeded in taking her with a few mere words when everything Kastel had said and done had failed. They had failed.20