Spirit Followers

by Lydia Redwine

  Cam considered that Silva and Kazbek had a small cottage here for when they visited the realm. The same was true for the other three realm leaders. Lia was soon pointing out men and women dressed in blue clothing along the docks of the river, which in a day’s journey flowed into the Silver Sea, a body of water bordering Imber Fel. The men and women were fish-catchers and tradesmen from this realm. They sailed in well-built boats with white and blue sails. They worked quietly, an odd type of quiet Cam was not used to, having been surrounded all her life by the loud bustling work of the forest among villagers and farmers.

  “How will I occupy myself when this becomes my permanent home?” she inquired of Lia. “Most of the Royals, when they are not in court maki ng decisions on behalf of the nation, spend all their time at luxurious events and such.”

  “Do you attend?” Lia shook her head. “Usually, I remain at the castleor at our house here. My father acts as the correspondence for the Royalty Realm, meaning he and a young man who aids him, travel the nation, checking in on the Realms. Sometimes I go too.” Cam thought that if such opportunity landed upon her, she would not be displeased.

  Lia led Cam into a stately tavern near the docks and trading posts. If there ever was a sophisticated tavern, this was it. It was very clean and so it seemed were its customers who were mainly from Imber Fel. Lia informed Cam that the tavern, however, was one of the lowliest places in the realm, besides a rundown inn down the road. Each of them ordered a small amount of food since they had recently eaten. The place, in comparison to the rest of the paradise-like Realm, seemed strange to Cam. She wondered why Lia had brought her here. She found out when Lia said, “Cam, I’ve got to meet someone here. Is it okay if I slip away for a few minutes?”

  Cam watched as Lia left their table and retreated into a dark corner with a figure she couldn’t distinguish. While Cam waited for Lia to finish her strange meeting, she observed her surroundings. There were only two windows in the building, overlooking the main street and the riverfront. She turned back to the remains of her food and scraped her fork on the plate. She pulled the necklace Owen have given her from beneath her shirt and traced it lightly with her fingertips. As she thought of Owen, the sounds of the tavern drowned out.

  The morning she remembered from two years before had been frosty. Owen had taken Cam through the icy forest in search of game. Cam could not hunt and still could not, even under Fiera’s training. During their walk, they had seen a dove. Owen stopped Cam still among the silent trees and pointed towards it. The white of its feathers blended almost perfectly with the snowy branches. Owen had marveled at the rarity of the bird. He had refused to kill it. Owen loved the symbol it held, even if it was a past rebellion which did not succeed. Cam still wondered why he had favored the dove so much.

  She jumped out of her recollection with a sudden jerk. Someone was gripping at her arm and hissing in her face. “Where did you get that?” The wide, hazel eyes of the young man grasping her arm darted between the necklace and her confused countenance. She stuttered for a moment, not knowing what to say. He gripped harder and pulled her from the seat. “Come on stupid sister. You shouldn’t be here,” he demanded in an escalated tone.

  Cam glanced around for Lia but could not find her. She drew in anxious breaths as the young man yanked her from the tavern and into the blinding sunlight. “Let go of me!” she hissed. He clamped a hand over her mouth. His expression softened into a kind, placid look. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said quickly. He laughed a little before releasing her. She rubbed her arm and although puzzled, scowled at him. He continued to chuckle.

  “You think this is some sort of jest?” she retorted. He became somber almost immediately.

  “Don’t let anyone see that necklace. Ever. Okay?” Cam stared at him for a long moment.

  “Okay…” she replied finally.

  “It would be dangerous if you did,” he added. He strode down the street, opposite from the tavern, whistling as if nothing had occurred.

  “What the...” Cam started, looking with perplexed amazement after him. Nevertheless, she replaced the necklace around her neck and hid it beneath her shirt.

  The realization came quite suddenly.

  The boy, who was no older than eighteen, looked strikingly familiar. He was Caleb, the boy, who at her birthday ball, had danced with Fiera. “Wait until I tell her about this,” she laughed. She knew that Fiera, as well as herself, would wonder about his presence in the Royalty Realm. As far as she knew, he was not Royal.

  Cam turned back to enter the tavern and bumped into Lia. “What happened? I turned around to see some guy pulling you out of here.”

  “He mistook me for his sister,” Cam replied with a shrug. Fortunately, Lia did not press the subject further. Cam did not wish to tell her about their conversation. Perhaps he was right. The symbol of the dove was a symbol of the rebellion of the Spirit Followers. Although the rebellion was dealt with years ago, there could still be danger in even ignorantly supporting it. Lia did not speak of her strange meeting, and as they made their way back to the palace, and Cam kept her questions to herself. Her thoughts were swirling around the strange encounter with Caleb.

  “For the past hundreds of years, our people, the Spirit Followers, have received the magic if Caelae and of Elyon through blood sacrifice. We know through the Watchers’ words that one day we will no longer be required to make such sacrifices. The ultimate sacrifice will be made by Elyon Himself.”

  -Daniel’s words to his son Peter

  Seven

  The last ball Peter had attended had been his own. Two years had

  passed since. The Royal court held many parties as well as balls, but Peter hardly ever attended them. Lord Caddell did. Peter was left behind, to his own satisfaction, to rummage through the libraries. He had hunted through thick volumes, searching for stories that could possibly mention his father. None were found.

  Peter did not receive an invitation to Camaria’s ball, for he was expected to attend as well as the rest of the Royals, the court, and the leaders of the outlying realms whether there was an invitation or not. He watched in the early afternoon as servants flowed in and out of the throne room in preparation for the occasion to be held that evening.

  He was present to greet the realm leaders as they arrived. Silva and Kazbek, Cam’s guardians, were first to arrive in a procession of horses with guests of their own from their home realm. Lord Heiron, the widowed leader of Imber Fel, and his fairylike daughter Glista arrived on a ship shortly afterward. Lord Tyron of the Cinis Lumen Realm and Lord Apollyon of the Gnosi Realm were not present.

  After greeting the prestigious guests, Peter slipped away until the hour of the ball drew near. Cam was not yet presented when Peter emerged into the radiant room. He spied the new Royal’s four sisters fluttering about from refreshments to guests, to windows and all that the room had to offer. The room was aglow with candles and lanterns. Enough food to feed an entire realm for quite some time was provided on long tables. A full orchestra combined of Gnosi and Imber Fel musicians was asked to serve.

  Peter ventured through the crowd of brilliant costumes until he had reached Lia, who stood sipping wine from a small glass. She offered Peter some, but he waved it away. “You have been in quite a sour mood these past weeks,” she remarked.

  Since Lia was nearly a full head taller than Peter, he had to peer upward at her as he replied. “I’ve been restless, I suppose.”

  “For what reason?” Peter merely shrugged. Though nearly tempted to share the reasoning beyond his dampened spirits, time did not allow as Lord Caddell stepped before the crowd and made the announcement of Cam’s entrance.

  Cam entered clad in a light blue, tiered dress that matched her sisters’ in cut and length. Lia smiled at her well-done work. Cam was presently embraced by her guardians. Peter would have enjoyed watching her further, but Cole was at his side as soon as Lia had left.

  “Does she know?” Peter asked as he stared ahead, expression
less.

  Cole was nodding and working his jaw back and forth when Peter cast a sideways glance at him. “She discovered it on her own and confronted Amelia. Mia fears that perhaps she may let the secret slip. The girl was quite irritated.”

  “I was under the assumption you thought it unwise, as do I, that she know so soon.”

  “Amelia thought it best shelearn thetruth sooner than later, and I suppose that she is quite correct. As far as we know, Cam hasn’t told a soul.” Lord Caddell paused and tapped his fingers on the sides of his glass.

  “Do you believe her guardians will recognize you?”

  Dressed as a Royal instead of a beggar thirteen years after the fact? I think not,” Cole replied with a chuckle. His expression grew solemn. “Perhaps…you could speak to Camaria. You may be able to sympathize with her considering that fact that both of you grew up under the guardianship of a man who wasn’t your true father.”

  “At least I knew you were not my true father. I do not think she will care much for what I have to say.”

  “It wasn’t a suggestion. Speak to her. Instill your bountiful knowledge upon her. Whether she accepts it or not, she’ll still possess it.” Cole smiled.

  “Bountiful knowledge?” Peter questioned with brow raised.

  Cole continued as if he had not heard Peter’s question. “And don’t hold yourself as if you’re a guard on duty. Tonight is an opportunity to celebrate. Grasp that opportunity with both hands and enjoy yourself.” Cole thumped the young man on the back. Peter mustered a small smile.

  “I might as well,” he thought, as he found himself a glass, and Cole poured the wine.

  The ball had begun fifteen minutes before, but hardly anyone was

  dancing yet. Guests were still arriving and the food was being passed out on dainty, silver trays. Cam stood with Lia at one end of the room, surveying the beauty of the ballroom. The guests were clad in a finery of copious colors. Lia herself wore a scarlet gown embroidered with black lace. It was somewhat strange to see her in a ball gown, but her face was full of the familiar color and anticipation that always seemed to shine through her.

  Cam was gazing at the orchestra, whose members were plucking at their strings, when Lia announced, “You must be introducedto LordHeiron andhis daughter.” Lia instructedCam to transport herself to an elegant looking chair at one end of the room where several of the more distinguished guests were positioned. “May I remind you, they’re all here to see you,” Lia whispered. With a smile, she pressed a palm to Cam’s back and edged her towards the throne-like seat.

  A man of medium stature with silvery hair reaching to his shoulders approached her. He bowed slightly and the young girl on his arm curtsied. The girl was draped in shimmering blue and silvery clothing matching her white, silky hair, sapphire eyes, and ivory skin. She was the perfect picture of Imber Fel beauty.

  “Miss Camaria Briar, may I present myself? I am Lord Heiron of Imber Fel, the eastern Realm and this is my daughter Glista. We look forward to having you as our personal guest at your time of training in our realm.” Cam smiled, a sudden wave of relief washing over her. Having feared before what some of the Realm’s leaders would be like, she found herself at peace for the moment.

  “The pleasure of our acquaintance is all mine,” she replied. When Cam offered her hand, Lord Heiron kissed it softly. “Until our next meeting, it would please us that you accept

  a gift.” Heiron fumbled in the pocket of his blue robe and pulled

  forth a silver handkerchief. With a flourish, he offered the glinting

  cloth to Cam. She emitted a small gasp as she received the token. A

  warm, tingling sensation spread through her hand. With glittering

  eyes, Heiron said, “It’s magic. Though…it doesn’t do anything but

  send tingles over your skin.” He chuckled to himself. Cam thanked

  him for the gift and tucked it into a crevice of her gown. His

  daughter Glista bounced on her toes, begging her father to dance.

  He agreed, and Cam watched as they swung into the crowd. “They’re the least intimidating of the realm leaders,” she

  heard Peter remark. She glanced sideways at the young man who

  seemed to have just appeared from thin air.

  “What a comfort.” Peter laughed softly, but Cam found no

  amusement in either of their comments.

  “Cam! Come dance now!” Cam’s eyes darted downward to

  see Mista, whose eyes were alight with excitement. She found that

  at that moment that there were hardly any other guests mingling for

  her to greet. She allowed Mista to pull her headlong into the crowd

  where they linked in a circle with Adria and Terra.

  They skipped merrily around in rhythm to the lively music.

  The melody was played by stringed instruments and wavering,

  haunting sounds from flutes. Cam and her sisters laughed through

  panted breaths when the music ceased. Those who had been

  dancing sent a round of applause through the room and encored the

  musicians. Cam linked arms with Mista and Adria as a young man

  approached and asked Terra to dance. She spied Lia and Fiera

  laughing at one end of the room.

  Feeling a tap on her shoulder, Cam spun around. “May I

  have the next dance Miss Camaria?” Peter asked, offering his

  outstretched hand. Cam expected a smile to accompany his polite

  greeting, but he was as solemn as ever.

  She hesitated for a moment before saying, “Yes, yes you

  may.” Cam felt Mista’s elbow jab her in the ribs and heard her whisper something to Adria about Peter. She hoped that whatever the girl had said had been oblivious to the young man now

  beginning to guide her into the next dance,

  “Come, Adria. I want more of those pastries.” Mista pulled

  Adria away from Cam and Peter.

  Cam raised her eyes to meet Peter’s and realized that his

  hand was still put forward for her to take. She slid her hand into his

  pale one placed her free hand on his shoulder as his arm scooped

  around her waist. Peter looked more formal in his neatly pressed,

  white, linen shirt and black trousers. His dark hair was combed to

  the side. His eyes held his usual steady, watchful gaze. “You look quite dressed up this evening,” he remarked. Cam

  couldn’t distinguish whether he was complimenting her or just

  stating a fact.

  “Yes, well so do you,” she replied.

  “We all do. Even Cole is dressed up.” Peter grinned, looking

  over her shoulder. Amelia and Lord Caddell were partnered behind

  them. Cam wondered what they might be talking about but brushed

  the thought away hastily.

  I’ve wanted to speak to you about something,” Peter said,

  this time in a low tone.

  “About what?” Camthought foramoment that hemay know

  of her thoughts of him expressed to Amelia. “I have come to realize

  that you have discovered about the group Lord Caddell, myself, and

  Amelia belong to.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “I knew she had plans on telling you eventually, and I

  figured that you knew Cole was your father since you won’t even

  look at him.”

  Cam sighed, her gaze dropping to the floor. Peter’s feet

  moved in perfect rhythm to the music, and she was finding it

  difficult to keep up. “Yes, she told me.” Her words were barely

  audible. She knew that if she and Peter were going to speak of Spirit

  Followers in a public setting, they should keep it quiet. “I just wanted to let you know that…” Peter paused. “That if

  you were to join us, it would leave us at an advant
age. The fact that

  your mother was a martyr for our cause could turn minds over.” Cam was slightly taken aback at his words, for she knew nothing of

  her mother.

  “Martyr,” she murmured. “What if I wished Mirabelle to

  remain in its current state?” she asked herself. She had hardly any

  inkling towards what the Spirit Followers were like as a community.

  She could not stir within her any reasonable trust to place in Peter,

  Lord Caddell, or even Amelia. “I simply don’t know them well

  enough.”

  “Look,” she said locking her stare with Peter’s. The two of

  them were barely swaying. One of Peter’s hands still held hers and

  the other was perched on her waist. “I have hardly any knowledge

  of the Spirit Followers at this point. Until I do, I am happy with

  becoming a member of Mirabelle’s government and completing

  training.”

  “Does happiness really matter to you?” Peter inquired. A

  hint of concern mixed with his tone.

  “Of course.” Peter shook his head as though he was

  disappointed. “What? It doesn’t matter to you?”

  “You can never be completely happy in life, Cam,” he stated

  flatly. “But you can have joy in every situation you are in, no matter

  what it is.” They came to an abrupt halt. Peter released his hand

  from Cam’s and took his other from her waist. She stood silently,

  watching him disappear into the crowd. She felt urged to say

  something, to rush after him and explain more, but she was

  fastened to the spot. She held herself erect in a motionless state like

  a statue among the dancing guests until Fiera tugged at her arm. “Are you okay?” She pulledCam over beside atable, set with

  a splendid array of refreshments.

  “Yes, I’m fine, I think.”

  “I am rather surprised that Lord Adriel asked you to dance,"