The Lost Princess of Aevilen

by D. C. Payson

  Julia closed the trunks, turned off the lights, and headed back to her room. She closed her bedroom door behind her and faced her mirror.

  Hey, I’m Julia, she greeted an imaginary classmate, her confidence swelling. A gentle warmth radiated across her chest. She could already see herself wearing the necklace with a V-neck top and gray skirt the next time she went on a date.

  She pulled her pajamas out of her bureau and was about to put them on when suddenly her ears picked up a strange sound outside her room. She froze. A moment later, it came again, a woman’s voice:

  “Elleina!”

  Julia crept forward and poked her head into the hallway. The house was dark. “Nico?” she called in a loud whisper. “Dad? Mom?”

  She kept still, waiting to see if the sound would repeat. Only silence.

  “You’re tired … just get some sleep,” she said to herself, retreating to her room. She put on her pajamas, turned off the lights, and climbed into her bed.

  As she lay down, she thought she heard the voice again. “Elleina!”

  She ignored the noise, exhausted but glad to have stayed up late. Visions of wearing her grandmother’s necklace and shawl brought a smile to her face. Strange as it would have seemed when the day began, she was almost looking forward to tomorrow.

  Julia closed her eyes and felt a wave of calm come over her. She could feel her mind letting go of the day, her lingering anxieties, and then, finally, all remaining vestiges of conscious thought. She fell into a deep, restorative sleep of the sort she so desperately needed; so deep, in fact, that she didn’t even stir when, minutes later, a brilliant light began to emanate from under her blanket.

  “Elleina! Vasansonnelaen!”

  Julia was awoken by a chill that gripped her. Los Angeles was usually warm in September, so the cold came as a surprise.

  She reached down for her blanket and grasped only air. Groping farther, her hand met a cold, stone floor. Her eyes sprang open.

  “Mom?” she called, jerking herself upright. “Dad?”

  There was no reply, only the slight echo of her voice off the walls.

  She looked around frantically. Blue-tinged moonlight streamed through a pair of arched, glassless windows, providing just enough light for her to see a column in the middle of the room and strange furniture along a nearby wall. She looked behind her and saw a large mirror.

  “Okay, Julia, okay,” she said, forcing herself to take a deep breath. She closed her eyes. “Breathe … you’re just dreaming.”

  Julia would deal with this nightmare the way she had learned to confront nightmares as a child: she would ignore it. She lay down again and focused on her breath, disregarding the cold and discomfort. It was not long before she had fallen back to sleep.

  Julia could feel the warmth of sunlight embracing her, a welcome change from the cold she had experienced several hours before. She stretched out her arms and yawned. When her elbow collided with stone, her eyes sprang open again.

  In startled confusion, she took in the room around her. It was magnificently opulent, like something from a Venetian palace but born of a very different culture. An iron column rose from the middle of the floor and split into eight slender tendrils, each forming a ridge for the flower-like arched ceiling. The walls were carved in deep relief and painted a rich variety of colors, alternating between scenes of nature and panels of strange writing. On either side of the room were several cabinets with stone pedestal bases, and over by the window were two ornate metal chairs and an accompanying table. Julia cast a quick glance behind her, this time seeing the large, golden mirror in full.

  Her heart beat rapidly. Her breathing accelerated. Julia struggled to understand what she was seeing. This felt much too real to be a dream.

  “HELP!” she cried out.

  There was only a brief echo, then silence.

  She jumped to her feet and ran over to the window. She looked out onto a wide, mountain ravine filled with the ruins of an ancient complex. The buildings combined the colonnades of Ancient Greek temples and the thick, square, corner towers of Bhutanese dzongs. They were like nothing she had ever seen. Several buildings had dried-out, old trees growing from their center courtyards with carefully sculpted branch structures, like bonsais but on a much larger scale. A gust of wind whistled as it passed through the buildings’ collapsed roofs, fallen walls, and scattered stones. This was a place long abandoned.

  Withdrawing from the window, Julia fought to control her thoughts. She slumped to the floor, her palms and face sweating as she neared the point of intense, inescapable fight-or-flight anxiety. Suddenly, an alien warmth spread across her chest. Surprised, she placed her hand against it and looked down.

  Her necklace, the one that she had taken from Ina’s trunk, was glowing.

  The warmth continued to spread until Julia felt as if her body were encased in a shell of protective energy. She wasn’t sure how or why, but she found the necklace’s warmth calming. Turning inward, she focused on her breath, bringing her mind back to the present. Soon her panic was gone.

  What just happened? Julia wondered as the necklace’s warmth and glow began to fade. She had never believed in the supernatural, but what she had seen and felt were undoubtedly real. Unsettled, she took the necklace off and looked at it. The centerpiece commanded her attention, her eyes locking on it in a way that felt almost irresistible. Mesmerizing.

  Ina, what’s going on? What is this thing?

  Her conscious brain wanted to leave the necklace behind, to be free of its strange influence, but her subconscious resisted. Somehow, somewhere deep inside her, she knew that she needed it. That it was important. Conflicted, she tucked the necklace into the pocket of her pajamas.

  I’ll figure this out later, she thought. First, I need to figure out where I am.

  Standing up again, Julia made her way to the closest cabinet. It had an elegant design, made from a dark red-brown wood bound together by silver metal joints at its corners. She tried to pull the doors open, but they only jiggled. After a minute of searching, she found a silver pin on the top side that held the doors closed. She pulled it out and tried the doors again; this time, they swung open freely.

  Inside were two shelves. The top held a pair of large, stoppered jugs, the bottom several stacks of folded clothes. She picked up one of the jugs, feeling the liquid slosh inside. A strong, unpleasant odor like that of apple cider vinegar wafted up from the partially rotted stopper, making Julia think twice about removing it. She put the jug back and turned her focus to the clothes underneath.

  Looking through the piles, which seemed to be mostly heavy robes, she found a white, woolen sweater. She pulled it out and held it against her body.

  Better than pajamas, she thought, setting it aside.

  She closed the cabinet doors and returned the silver pin at the top.

  Going from cabinet to cabinet, Julia searched for other helpful items or clues to her whereabouts. She came across ceramic bowls and cups, other assorted clothes and blankets, and even a collection of covered-toe sandals. By the time she was done, she had found a pair of leather pants that she could wear and a pair of sandals that fit her. However, nothing had told her where she was.

  Scanning the room one last time, she caught a glint of light reflecting off an object on the table. It was a silver oval set into the lid of a wooden box. She went over to look at it more closely, and her heart skipped a beat; the oval was engraved with a symbol matching the pendant of Ina’s necklace!

  Julia took out the necklace from her pocket and held it up against the oval. It really was a match! She tried to open the box, but it was locked. Turning it around, she couldn’t find a latch or hole for a key.

  Standing in puzzled silence staring at the box, Julia suddenly became aware of something else: the necklace was warming in her hand. She felt her eyes being drawn back to the engraving on the box. She ran her fingers over it, an intuition coming to her. This is the key …
>
  Julia pushed against the metal oval. There was a popping sound as an internal mechanism released.

  A mix of wonder and trepidation came over her as she stared disbelievingly at the unlocked box, then at her necklace. Her mind struggled to accept what she already knew to be true: Ina’s necklace was feeding her thoughts, perhaps even guiding her. Was it benevolent? Was she still just dreaming? She had no way of knowing, but the longer she stared at the pendant, the more compelled she felt to put it back on. She slipped the chain over her head, relieved to feel the metal against her skin again.

  Turning her focus back to the box, Julia carefully opened the lid, revealing a small, leather bag and two folded, yellow notes inside. She removed the bag, finding it surprisingly heavy. Uncinching the drawstring, Julia turned it upside down. A large, gold medallion slid out and clanged against the table. Julia’s eyes widened. It was by far the largest gold object she had ever seen, six inches in diameter and a quarter inch wide. She picked it up with both hands, admiring the portrait of a young girl on its front. The girl’s hair was braided, and she wore a simple, ivy crown. She looked very familiar somehow, but Julia struggled to identify the face. Turning the medallion over, Julia found the sharktooth-like symbol again, this time circumscribed by strange-looking writing. Her necklace warmed. Her eyes were drawn to the script in the same way they had been drawn to the box’s metal oval earlier. Unconsciously, she began passing her thumb over the words.

  Suddenly, she heard a man’s voice: “Go’eorra, Mosen Elle—”

  Julia gasped and looked up, the medallion almost slipping from her fingers.

  “Who’s there!” she yelped. She swung around, but the room was still empty.

  She looked down at her necklace. That came from you, didn’t it? She took a deep breath and ran her thumb over the words on the medallion again.

  The voice returned: “Aevilen Go’eorra, Mosen Elleina.”

  As if in a trance, Julia ran her thumb over the writing repeatedly, the voice echoing with each pass. Slowly, it began to change, each additional tracing of the words bringing a new voice closer to the point of intelligibility. Finally, what had begun as an overlaid whisper became understandable: “Servant of Aevilen, Princess Elleina.”

  Elleina … Ina!

  Julia knew why she recognized the girl on the medallion. It was Ina as a young girl!

  Princess Elleina of Aevilen, Julia repeated in her head. She looked out the window past the nearby fortress in the ravine, seeing a broad mountain valley in the distance.

  A valley in the mountains, just as Ina described. Is that where I am? Ina’s home?

  The intuitions, the voice, her necklace … what was happening? And had she really come to understand some new language just by touching it?

  She looked up at the walls, scanning the carved scenes and the panels of writing. She walked over and ran her fingers across one of the inscriptions, her necklace casting a faint, blue glow against the stone. Soon she heard another voice whispering in the back of her mind. It was again male, but different from the first. And this time, she heard the translation immediately:

  “The Shaper took Her into His arms, and they made their love complete on the sacred plateau He had crafted for Her. Of their godly passions were born the Ogarren, rock and vine and dirt and grass absorbing their energies and coming together as one … ”

  In an adjacent scene, Julia spotted a beautiful woman embracing a bearded man with small figures rising from the ground around them. In that moment, it was confirmed: she could read a language she had never seen, understand a language she had never heard.

  Her heart fluttering, Julia rushed back to the box and removed one of the notes. Unfolding it, she saw that it contained a similar script to the one found on the coin and walls. She began tracing the words. The voice that came was a young woman’s:

  Eovaz,

  I write to say that I have always admired your loyalty and courage. You have given up much to serve as my Guardian. I do not know how or when, but I will see to it that your sacrifice is rewarded.

  May the Shaper protect you always.

  Elleina

  A tear welled up in Julia’s eye. The voice was Ina’s, albeit a much younger Ina than Julia had ever known. She had written these notes. She had been in this room. Julia’s mind wandered with thoughts of the grandmother she knew, the one back in California, and her mother, brother, and father. She so wanted to be back with them.

  Glancing at the face of the medallion, she recalled her grandmother’s words: I know it’s hard, but ‘why’ is less important than ‘now.’

  Julia nodded. She wiped her eyes and focused.

  Whatever brought me here can send me back, she thought. Let’s figure out what’s going on and get out of here.

  Julia gathered herself and picked up the second note from the box.

  To Elder Domin,

  I am leaving but will call on you when I return. I know your kind has always tried to stay away from our politics, but I hope you will keep the long-standing relations the Vorravers have enjoyed with the Rokkin in mind when this period passes. My heavy heart knows there will be much to rebuild, and we will need your assistance. I am sending a royal marker with my message so that your smiths might begin work without delay when the time comes.

  May the Shaper protect you always.

  Princess Elleina Vorraver, Servant of Aevilen

  Julia looked out the window, her gaze drifting across the valley. Ina … how did I get here?

  She placed her hand against her necklace, believing that it had played a part.

  Send me home, she pleaded silently. If you brought me here, send me home!

  She opened her eyes again. Nothing had changed. She sighed, disappointed but unfazed. The necklace frustrated her with its mystery, but it had also given her a deep-seated calm and resolve. She knew she didn’t have many options: wait and hope that she might be sent back as inexplicably as she’d been summoned, or figure out how she had been brought to this place and how to get home herself.

  She took in the view of the ravine and the desolation of the abandoned ruins.

  I can’t wait here for a rescue that might never come. I have to find Eovaz and Domin, whoever they are. They’ll know how I can get home.

  Julia changed into the clothes she had found, then she collected the gold coin and notes and packed them in the drawstring bag. After cinching the pouch to the waist of her pants, she walked over to the large, banded door by the window and lifted the latch that kept it closed. Prepared to pull with all her might, she was surprised by how easily it swung open. What she saw through the doorway, however, soon replaced her relief with concern.

  There was a solid, wood surface in front of her. It didn’t look like another door.

  Rushing through the short hallway, Julia searched for a handle but found none. She pounded on the barrier with her fist. “Hello?” she called, the hollow report of her strikes echoing off the stone around her. “Hello!”

  You’re not trapped … you’re not trapped, she repeated to herself, scanning the barrier frantically as her anxiety rose. In her frustration, she pounded on it again, and again a hollow thud resounded through the corridor.

  Suddenly, Julia realized that she had heard that sound before. Back in Malibu, when her father had hung the TV in her room, he had showed her how to find wall studs by knocking. Hollow meant no stud; the wall would be thin there. But this wasn’t a wall.

  Julia went side to side knocking on the wood. The sound stayed the same. She tried going up and down, and, sure enough, every few feet the sound changed for an inch or two, becoming higher-pitched and tighter.

  This isn’t a wall … it’s a piece of furniture!

  Turning around, she leaned up against the right side of the barrier and held her breath.

  1 … 2 … 3!

  Julia pushed with all her might. The barrier crept forward, grinding against the stone floor and opening up a
several-inch wide crack. Julia turned around and tried to peer through the crack, making out the outlines of a balustrade and also several books scattered across the floor on the other side. She reached her arm through and probed the back of the barrier, feeling empty cavities and regularly spaced shelves.

  It was a bookcase!

  She put her back against the wood again and heaved, the bookcase lurching forward another several inches. The crack was nearly wide enough for her to squeeze through.

  Almost there.

  “Okay,” she said aloud, psyching herself up. “Let’s get out of here.”

  She lowered her shoulder and pushed with all the strength she had left.

  “Goooooo!” she cried out, spurred on by the sound of grinding wood. Julia fought for every last inch until, finally, out of breath, her legs aching, she slipped down to her knees. She looked up at the crack and let out a sigh of relief. She would fit.

  After waiting a moment for her legs to recharge, Julia stood and shimmied through the opening. She stopped, stunned, as the room came into view.

  It was a cavernous, multi-level library filled with colored light. Above her was the largest stained glass object she’d ever seen, a 100-foot diameter, domed ceiling formed from crystal panes arranged in floral and ivy-like patterns. Vibrant streams of green, red, and yellow illuminated row after row of ornamented bookcases below. It would have been a sight to behold in a prior era, but most of the cases were now empty, their contents spilled across the floor or missing entirely. Julia felt a deep unease welling inside her as she walked between the empty shelves and over the piles of books.

  Something terrible happened here.

  She made her way to the central staircase. As she rounded one of the massive, metal columns supporting the ceiling, Julia caught a faint whisper, barely distinct from the light breezes whisking through the library. She ignored it. But then a more defined murmur came from behind her, breathless but unquestionably a voice: