Wynter Reign

by Emmy R Bennett

  “Well, for one, everyone can’t do it, like I said before. There’s only one Spellbook of Immortality left—if it, too, isn’t lost.” She points to the shelf. “Secondly, a Light Witch must cast it.”

  “Are you saying that you’re a—I mean—”

  She nods. “A Light Witch, yes. The last one on Ladorielle, in fact. Sarmira has done a grand job of finding every Light Witch and killing us off one by one. She thinks I died in the battle when the commander of her unit offed the heads of Sara and Ailbert.”

  “And yet, they are still alive, as well as you. You must have enchanted something of your own, I gather?”

  Eleena lifts her right hand to show a ring with a red stone in the center. “The immortality spell that was cast on the land before you were carted off at five years old to safety is what saved the kingdom, yes. This ring I have on my hand is what kept me alive. I enchanted it with the preservation spell I mentioned earlier. It needed to be done.”

  “Why didn’t my mother or Aunt Fran have such items?” I argue.

  “They did. Rather, do…although it isn’t clear to me why your aunt has expired—perhaps Nyta might shed some light later as to why, because she should not be dead right now—but as for your mother—she gave her necklace to you.”

  I touch the chain, remembering back when Moyer was jolted, attempting to strike me down in the basement of the manor. “Are you saying the magic is already embedded in the locket?”

  “Yes, and no. That necklace”—she points to my neck—"your mother gave to your father the night you were born to wear and would have protected Isalora from death entirely, because of this embedded jewel. While it protects you now from various wickedness, it has done its job shielding you from evil thoughts, harm, and your location, however, your mother’s talents and your talents are much different. Of course, you have similarities. No two magical being has the same identical gifts.”

  “Like DNA?”

  “Yes. That’s right.”

  I look to Fran. “The night we left the house in Washington, is that the spell she means? The spell that had us lifted out of our bodies. Is that what saved the kingdom of Ladorielle?”

  “Sort of, yes,” Fran confesses. “Not to confuse the other spells, though. The spell Mother is referring to is a regenerative spell that will embed in jewelry to protect you from death, while the other is more like an illusion, making others believe one doesn’t exist.”

  “And just so I’m clear, the spell didn’t get to the king and queen, my great-grandfather Ailbert and great-grandmother Sara, in time, which is why they were beheaded?”

  “Oh no, the spell worked on them,” my grandmother says.

  I stop to think about what’s being said. “Wait a second, great-grandmother Sara is Deagon.” The heart I carried in the coffer comes to mind. I turn to my aunt. “That’s why the heart in those containers are so important, isn’t it? Because those hearts have a preservation spell protecting them.”

  My aunt smiles, giving me the confirmation I need.

  “Now do you understand why keeping my secret of being alive was so important?”

  I nod. “And why great-grandmother has asked for Cory to try and locate great-grandfather Ailbert’s heart as well. Wait a minute…do you think Cory could find my mother’s, too?”

  “Perhaps, but your mother will never regenerate back. She wasn’t wearing the necklace when Sarmira killed her,” Eleena says.

  I take in this new revelation, and it dawns on me. “That means I, too, have the bloodline of a Light Witch?" I stare in shock at my grandmother. "Sarmira knows about this spellbook, doesn’t she?”

  Then, looking at my aunt I say in my mind, “That’s what you meant when you said to Eleena, ‘you can train me,’ isn’t it?”

  Fran firms her lips, not showing any emotion, except for a slight nod. “Which is also why you must remain on Ashengale Island. At least until Mother can make you a preservation ring. We cannot risk your death.”

  “But if I wear this necklace, like Eleena has mentioned, I can’t die.”

  “It isn’t clear whether that is true or not. Each preservation piece of jewelry is catered to ones’ DNA like, your grandmother mentioned. It’s not a risk any of us are willing to take. Just because you might have the protection from death doesn’t mean you should go looking for it and test it out.”

  I can’t read Eleena’s body language, but I’m beginning to get the impression we are in a losing battle. And my grandmother Eleena is desperate.

  “It seems Sarmira has the upper hand,” I say.

  “Not entirely. I’m still alive, and she believes all Light Witches are dead,” Eleena says. “You see, new Light Witches need a mentor to hone their craft, to learn spells, and to be able to control their magic. Without the proper training, they are vulnerable to evil. I think Sarmira was counting on you not sharpening your skills—skills you hadn’t known you had. I mean, after all, the bloodline of a Deagon and a Storm with matching traits of a Light Witch, what more could an evil sorceress ask for?”

  “The mystery thickens even more,” I whisper.

  “Yes, and she knows we have the spellbook, or rather it exists. She knows there is a spell that could destroy her once and for all, too. Even though she believes all Light Witches are gone, she doesn’t want to take any chances. She’s been searching for the book for centuries,” my grandmother adds.

  “What about The Sword of Valor, I thought that is what will destroy her?” I ask.

  Eleena smiles again and nods. “Indeed, you’re correct. There is an enchanting spell in that book that has embossed powers into the sword, as well. It was created by the strongest of Light Witches long ago.”

  “I need to give the book to her, Aunt Fran.”

  “I know.”

  I pull out the spellbook from the inside pocket of my jacket. “Is this what you’re looking for? My mother said I was to give it to Dragonscale.”

  Eleena comes forward, taking the book from my hands. “Isalora had this, you say?”

  I nod. “Is it the Spellbook of Immortality?” I ask

  She flips open the pages and nods. “Yes. This book has been carried down through the centuries, guiding the Light Witches through whatever evil stood in their path, and this one is the last known to exist. It appears you had it all along.”

  She hands the book back. “If Isalora said for you to give it to Dragonscale, I’m guessing she hasn’t led on to the others I’m still alive? I want you to keep it with you. It will help you along your journey and might get you out of sticky situations you will be up against going through your trials. It’s the reason I was thumbing through my library a moment ago, looking for it. I wanted to give it to you.”

  She nods, pointing to the book. “The immortality spell is in there. We can cast the spell upon your aunt and the kingdom while we wait for Dragonscale’s return. In the meantime, I have something to show you.”

  “Please remind me again what this spell will do?”

  “It will keep people here safe from war. And your Aunt Fran will have the power to keep the wraiths from crossing realms from our world to others.”

  “As well as myself. It means if she casts this spell upon me, I cannot cross realms,” my aunt says. “Except on a full moon night.”

  “We could use Aunt Fran in the battle ahead,” I add. I take a gulp of air, feeling a bit nervous. “I mean, looking alive, and ‘not dead,’ like my mother Isalora does on earth.”

  “That is the intention, my dear. First though, you must complete the trials. This must be done before the Super Blue Blood Moon Eclipse that is imminently approaching. You have less than ten days’ time to complete your trials for ascension. Once that is accomplished, you will be ready for Sarmira.” She pauses, as though she is deciding whether to say more. “Redmae, must accompany you along the way, as well as a few others. You must all work as a team.”

  A knock at the library door sounds and a woman enters, carting with her a tray of teacups, biscuit
s, and a kettle of tea. “Refreshments, your Majesty?”

  “Yes indeed, Hannah, thank you. Please set them here.” She points to an end table next to her chair.

  With the flick of my grandmother’s wrist, Aunt Fran is finally released from her frozen state and comes to stand by my side. “Thank you, Mother,” she says, sounding a little annoyed.

  “You’re not off the hook yet, Francesca. You and I will have some choice words later.” My grandmother smiles at me, grabbing the pitcher of hot water and begins pouring a cup. “Tea, Wynter?”

  I try to be polite, despite the tension. “Yes, please.” She hands me the cup and saucer with a biscuit stuck on the side.

  After a few minutes of clanking dishes and careful sips from the burning liquid of chamomile, my grandmother says, clasping her hands, “Now that we have settled our stomachs, I have something to show you.”

  Chapter 5

  Rory Fernshadow

  The Past:

  Storm Castle Grounds

  Within minutes, we’re at the wizard’s door, knocking.

  “Go away,” a voice says from the other side.

  “Grand Master Aoes, it’s Cory. Might Rory and I have a word?”

  There’s a pause before the door whisks open without anyone present. The wizard stands in front of a wall of books, reading, dressed in a long sea-green robe. He appears deep in thought. The pages turn with the guiding of his index finger without him touching the paper.

  I notice the room has circular architecture with one window facing what looks to be west, with Dragonscale Island in the distance. A large mountain blows steam and ash while giant dragons fly above.

  “Grand Master—” Cory’s cut off by an abrupt hand from the wizard.

  We look at each other, staggered, as we patiently wait for Aoes. A desk sits off to the side, and a bird in colors of turquoise and yellow walks the surface of the desktop, cawing like a crow and announcing our intrusion, as though we’re interrupting something rather important.

  “Did you know,” the wizard begins, “the black widow kills and eats her mate, after they have coupled?” He closes the book, placing it back on the shelf and turns around. “She lures him to her web…with whatever it is spiders do. Such a cruel way to go, I suppose?”

  “Grand Master,” Cory pursues. “We must ask you something.”

  As though a light springs from his senses, the wizard focuses on us. “Never mind. I’m doing research. What brings you two to my humble presence? Shouldn’t you both be getting ready to leave for the Storm River Manor Compound?”

  I feel Cory nudge my arm. He nods at me to speak, but the words don’t form. Cory smiles.

  “Cat got your tongue now, Rory? Oh, bother,” Aoes says. He comes from around his desk, opening his arms, gesturing us to sit.

  “Grand Master Aoes, might you be able to answer a question, before we prepare to leave?” Cory asks.

  The wizard nods.

  “We wonder if you might have some insight on how to bring Rory’s talent back. You see, she recently touched a Waxlily, and now it seems some of her abilities have fallen away.”

  “Waxlily, you say? Interesting. Yes, well, I can see where you might be concerned.”

  The wizard comes forth, looking me straight into my eyes, and gently grabs my chin, tilting it to one side and then the other. “Yes, yes I see indeed.” He leans against his desk.

  “What do you see?” I ask, curious.

  “Your eyes…were they always this color?”

  “What do you mean, always this color? They’re green.”

  “Oh, my dear, no. They aren’t that color at all.”

  The temperature in my body rises. I know with Cory being a vampire, he can feel my heart race with anticipation. “What do you mean not green? Eye color isn’t supposed to change,” I say. At least not to a Pine Willow elf, anyway.

  “No. You’re quite correct. But those who touch the Waxlily, do.” He points to a mirror tucked in the corner of the circular room, suggesting I take a peek, and I go to it.

  What I see in my reflection begs the question, “How is this possible?”

  My eyes have turned a shade of silver. “What does this mean?” I look over at Cory. “You saw my eyes. You knew something had changed and didn’t tell me. Why?” Anger fills me.

  “Because I knew you would worry, and by the rhythm of your heart beating, I was correct.”

  “Is this what you meant when you said some side effects may occur when we were at The Lake of No Return? Not only are my gifts gone, but my eyes are changed, too?” I look back to the wizard, as he takes in the argument I’m having with Cory. “Does this mean my hair will change, like Wynter’s?”

  Cory looks at the Grand Master, as though he, too, is curious by my question.

  “Please, have a seat, Rory. Let me try to explain.” The bird walking along the desk hops onto the wizard’s arm and caws. “Hello, Krasin. Might I introduce you to Cory, the Lord of Storm castle, and Rory, the Huntress of Pine Willow Valley.”

  The bird caws again in response.

  “Now,” the wizard begins, “where were we?”

  “My eyes, you were about to tell me about how my eyes have changed.”

  “Yes. Yes, of course….”

  He motions the bird to step back onto his desk, where Aoes takes a seat himself.

  “It happened a long time ago, before the vampires and dire wolves walked this planet as enemies. Before the Storms were in power, or before I was even born.”

  A story older than Aoes? And he’s ancient.

  Aoes clears his throat, staring at me.

  “What? Don’t tell me you can read my mind, too?”

  He ignores my question. “This tale has been passed down from my father, from his father, and so forth. According to the legend, there was an ancient war for power. The wizards and sorceresses claimed their magic to the east, the dragons claimed theirs to the west, and the underworld claimed yet their power on Elleirodal.”

  “Elleirodal, our sister planet?” I ask

  “Yes.” He firms his lips. “These three powers all hold their rightful seat to the throne. Ladorielle is home to the sorcerers and wizards. What you know as Dragonscale Island, used to have a planet of its own called Ashengale. The planet’s core was made of molten rock. Liquid magma. They were the planet of dragons. These three planets shared one sun. The three worlds were at war with each other. During this trying and stressful time, knowing that their planets would die without their sun, they came to a common truce for the sake of all species, thus, developing The Twelve Council. While I don’t have much time to go into detail about that story, I will say during this era in history, a new species was born.”

  Krasin caws, drawing our attention from Aoes’s story. “Yes, I’m getting to that part, be quiet,” Aoes tells the bird.

  Cory and I look at each other and smile. A bird that can understand humans, interesting.

  Aoes clears his throat, again, drawing our attention, as though our thoughts are interrupting his tale. “As I was saying,” he continues, “this is when the Silver Dire was born. The wizards and sorceresses were losing the war to the underworld. They needed to find a way to build a stronger force. Although their magic was fierce, they were no match for the enemy’s army alone. They needed factions with other covens, clans, and tribes, so they called upon the druids and dryads for help, establishing an alliance. These classes formed together and came up with an idea to communicate with animals.”

  Aoes looks at Krasin, and the bird caws, hopping up his shoulder. “Knowing the wolves are loyal and take care of their own, our faction believed we could somehow communicate with them, tell them to fight alongside us, and perhaps we would have a chance to win the war.”

  Aoes gets up from his chair, allowing Krasin to hop on his perch, then paces toward the window that looks out at the horizon. The volcanic mountain in the distance spews lava, and the sky is littered in ash. “We could have never anticipated what would happen n
ext,” he says softly.

  “The sorceresses combined their power with the Light Witches on a Silver Moon night, concocting a recipe that would align the wolf with a human’s thought process.” He turns to look at Krasin and smiles. “To allow us to speak to the animals. Similar in how I can understand Krasin, here.” The bird caws again and flaps its wings. Krasin flies to the window and lands on the ledge.

  “The Waxlily was one of the ingredients. We thought we had mastered the recipe and injected the serum into a female wolf. We didn’t know at the time this wolf happened to be pregnant with five pups. It wasn’t until it was too late did we realize the untimely mistake. Thinking they had failed at their first attempt, they freed the mother.” Aoes paces to his desk once more and leans against it.