Shade of Destiny (The Foreseeing)

by Shannon M Yarnold

  “Something about you vexes me,” Medea said, her eyes boring into Wynn. After a moment Medea released her grip, shook her head and waved them away. Awkwardly they left The Widow’s house and crossed back over the swamp and stood on the inlet of trees. Neither said a word about what had occurred, each too stunned by what they had heard and the journey that now lay ahead. Medea watched them go, her face cast in shadow. She recalled the Foreseeing, but only three lines called to her now; ‘snow white of skin, eyes like emeralds, hair as black as night’. Medea watched Wynn and Arabella traverse back over the swamp and enter the forest before looking to the night sky. She would not forget Wynn's eyes, the most beautiful colour she had ever seen, the shade of emerald, the shade of destiny.

  8

  Braelyn landed with a thump, throwing dirt into the air as she hit the ground. Beside her Griffin and Jareth had landed just as disjointedly and were slowly rubbing their eyes and brushing dust from their clothes. Braelyn lay where she had fallen for a moment, trying to escape the sense of vertigo that had developed during the journey. This was the third time she had traversed such a far distance by magic and she knew it was something she would never get used to, it was unnatural and yet completely thrilling. She stared up at the sky, the sun blazed and she shielded her eyes from its gaze. Braelyn did not want to stand, even though the ground was hard and dry and dust floated around her every time she moved. She had no idea where she was.

  Griffin and Jareth were standing up a little distance away, stretching their tired limbs. Braelyn heard them grunt and grumble, murmuring to each other about their weapons. She sat up slowly, using her elbows to prop herself up and glanced around. They were in a vast open space, the ground hard and cracked. The horizon was blue and across the plains all that could be seen were sparse patches of vegetation, spiky plants and brown grass. With Griffin’s outstretched hand Braelyn stood up, her legs wobbling.

  “Where are we?” She asked, her voice hoarse. Griffin and Jareth exchanged a glance and she thought two things at once, either they did not know or where they were was a dangerous place. She would bet her life on the latter. They must have seen her face change, but she did know not what it changed to, either way they stepped closer to her, on each side of her.

  “We are in the plains that separate The Wall of Inlo with all the towns of Terra,” Jareth said softly. Braelyn felt his warmth on her shoulder and was glad she was not alone, they knew what to do. They had lived outside, scouted for safety and food, and they would protect her. Braelyn smiled weakly at them and accepted the dagger that Griffin was handing her. She had never used a weapon and before joining the travellers never even held one.

  Griffin looked up at the sun, judging the time of day and the direction they had to walk, “Cairon is in the North West of Terra, I have no way of knowing how long it will take; we will just have to walk.”

  Braelyn nodded and followed behind them as they began to walk. Her stomach lurched softly; she was walking to her father. It did not seem real, and the dusty bleakness of the plains that surrounded them only helped to accentuate the strangeness and reverie that was settling over Braelyn. They had no supplies, no spare clothes or food or even water; and with Arabella gone they would have no water for some time. Braelyn hoped they would find a town nearby.

  ***

  Wynn and Arabella had had a rough and sleepless night. They had set off north, through the thick black wood, which had been just as difficult to pass through as it looked, and followed the swamp around east until they had found a vast plain, painted black and grey in the night sky, facing southward. It had not taken long but they had all but collapsed at the edge of the forest, taking it in turns to keep watch as they desperately tried to get some sleep.

  Now, with the sun rising beautifully over the horizon, they woke to the sight of the bleak plain painted with golden morning light. It did not enhance the beauty of the flat lifeless ground, but only showed how ugly it was under the glittering light. Arabella, who was awake, stared out at it despondently, the journey they were about to take began here and she could not see how they would survive. She was glad that Wynn was asleep for she did not wish Wynn to share her pessimism, so much relied on the girl beside her she did not need anything more to shoulder. Arabella let Wynn sleep on, concerned by the dark circles under her eyes and her pallid skin. Now that the scar had gone, Arabella could see just how beautiful Wynn was. She felt old jealousy flare again and shook her head to rid herself of it, she could not begrudge Wynn her beauty, for it was a beauty tied inexplicably to her personality, she did not use her beauty for gain the way Arabella could, and was totally unaware of it. No, Arabella thought, I cannot envy her.

  Arabella leant over then and shook Wynn gently by the shoulder. Wynn, startled by the action screamed and sat bolt upright. It took her a moment to figure out where she was, her dream surrounded her mind and her senses. It had been even darker and more disturbing than normal, focusing entirely on her mother’s face, magnifying the pain and sadness etched onto her beautiful features. Wynn rubbed her eyes and was surprised to find tears tumbling down her cheeks. She looked around quickly but Arabella was some way off in the woods, relieving herself, whether to avoid the painful outburst that both of them had felt she was not sure but Wynn was grateful she was alone. Her mother’s face seemed to be etched onto her eyeballs and she feared she would never rid herself of it, her dreams recently had varied from their usual pattern and they had not changed for the better. Gulping painfully Wynn stood up, and swayed, she managed to lean on a nearby tree but the feeling did not dissipate.

  Her stomach clenched and was wracked with spasms, she was more hungry than she had ever been and realised it was nearly a week since she had eaten. Arabella appeared then from the trees and eyed Wynn warily, “What is wrong?”

  “I am so hungry,” Wynn replied, “we need to eat something, I cannot even contemplate crossing the plain without something in my stomach.”

  Arabella nodded and sent out her senses, in the light of morning the thick wood was not as daunting and Wynn could see that animals may even live in the undergrowth. The trees were closely grown and there was no obvious path to follow; Wynn was amazed they had made it out without harming themselves. The further she looked into the forest the darker the light became; it was a sea of browns and greens. Huge leaves swayed and ivy crawled up the trunks of the trees, huge bushes of bracken and rhododendrons, paired with white and blue flowers covered the forest floor and Wynn was lost in admiration when Arabella tapped her arm and placed a finger to her lips. Wynn was alert and followed Arabella back into the forest, they trod carefully and winced every time they stood on a dried twig or got their foot caught in weeds.

  Wynn followed obediently she could sense many lives around her but did not have the energy to distinguish which was which or to find out what Arabella hunted. Arabella kept the lead, the image of a rabbit in her mind. She could feel Wynn’s exhaustion but pushed it away, they were nearing the den and she could not afford to be distracted. It was under a huge tree, the hole almost hidden by bracken. Arabella leant forward and sent her magic into the den, calling the rabbit out. It followed the magic dazedly and quickly and humanely Arabella killed it. Wynn felt it die and jumped in shock.

  Arabella grabbed the rabbit by its ears and they made their way back to the outskirts of the wood. There Arabella made a fire, skinned and gutted the rabbit using her dagger, and cooked it. Wynn watched the process dreamily, her eyelids drooping as she struggled to stay awake. Arabella kept Wynn conscious by thinking many diverse things, remembering her past, and she knew it worked when Wynn’s eyes would widen. They did not speak aloud.

  When the meat had darkened and the smell was mouthwatering Arabella sliced it apart and using a flat stone as a plate they ate it hungrily. Wynn ate as politely as she could but she could feel the juices flowing down her chin and her fingers were covered in the meat. Arabella ate more slowly, and Wynn was glad that Arabella did not judge her. She was too hungry to ca
re. The meat was dark and rich and juicy and felt wonderful in her hollow stomach.

  “We should set off now,” Arabella murmured once they had finished eating. Wynn glanced sadly out to the horizon, but said nothing and merely nodded. They stood up, brushing themselves down and stepped onto the plains. Wynn instantly went cold. Her body shivered so violently her knees knocked together and a dragging sensation washed over her. She had never felt such desolation and in that moment she was alone in the world.

  “It’s so cold,” Wynn whispered more to herself than Arabella, who nodded nonetheless. Both of them could feel a great sorrow and coldness from the land they were crossing, as though it wept for the time before, before Aerona’s magic had distorted the lands and corrupted their very nature. Wynn knelt down and pressed her palm onto the ground, feeling then the great consciousness of the land, it was not one with intelligent thought, and she could not converse with it, but it was aware enough to have emotions and Wynn could feel how much it mourned the past, where it was a thriving grassland instead of a dead, cracked plain.

  She stood up and looked at Arabella to speak of what she had found but Arabella was scoping the horizon, “I think there will be a town near,” she said after a few moments, “we can wash finally, and gather food.”

  Wynn was sure when Arabella said ‘gather’ she meant steal but in these dire times she would overlook it. Shakily they walked onwards, the emptiness and the vastness of the plains daunting. A breeze fluttered their clothes, which turned into a harsh biting wind. It cut their skin with its chill and threw dust into the air and into their faces. The horizon was a blur and the sun beat down on them, overpowering them. It switched between freezing and stiflingly hot throughout the day, until they were covered in sweat and shivering in equal measure. To try and ignore their discomfort they fell into the rhythm of walking, anything to keep moving, one, two, one, two...

  In between battling the elements, and the dull feeling the land forced upon her, Wynn contemplated everything that had happened in the last few weeks. She spent long moments trying different scenarios in her head. The one question that refused to be forgotten and the one question she could not answer was; if she had not killed the Master would they be here at this moment? It forced her to think of countless possibilities; if she had not killed him, she would have been violated and permanently scarred, her will broken. It was the right thing to do in that respect, because she had protected herself and others from his wrath. And yet she felt like it was the pivotal moment of her life at that moment there had been two choices, and she had chosen this path, which had led her to Braelyn, to Arabella, the travellers. It had forced to her sacrifice Rueben and mourn Theodore and yet, at the same time, at the same flip of the coin Arabella had discovered her mother was alive, and Braelyn was on her way to be reunited with her father. How could she regret the choice then when such good had come from it? Of course she would always mourn Rueben and Theodore, but she had chosen the right path and she knew she would always be able to justify it, to herself and others.

  She knew Medea had been right; there were a thousand different choices for every action. As her mind wandered she thought back to Arabella’s tarot card reading and the fact that Medea had been the High Priestess, the card of knowledge. Wynn smiled to herself; Medea was mysterious and magically gifted with a general knowledge of everything around her. Wynn could not contain a shiver that once again Arabella had been proven right, at first a part of her had been adamant it was coincidence, Arabella did not have the sight, and had lost all of her culture when her tribe and race were murdered, but she could not deny the death card in Rueben and Theodore’s death and how much Medea resembled the High Priestess.

  But what had Medea meant when she had said something about Wynn vexed her? It disturbed Wynn more than the tarot cards being proven right, after the few weeks she had had she was ready to believe anything was possible, magic, an army of dead men, Procel and his torture chamber; but Medea had been clearly and visibly distressed when she looked at Wynn. Why? This was the first time that Wynn had had time to think, on her own without her life being in danger, and now, that she had peace around her she noted a hardness in her stomach. She pressed her hand against it and felt a pulsing which did not match the rhythm of her blood pumping.

  Closing her eyes quickly she searched inwardly, and found her pool of magic, in her mind’s eye she saw a large pool in the centre of herself, drops of golden light were swirling in it. As she saw the pool she saw a drop fall gracefully into the pool, it was the colour of ink and as it dropped down into the pool it was lost in the swirling liquid. She watched as a few more black drops fell into the magic a sense of dread tugging at her heart. Biting back a worried sigh she continued walking, wondering what it meant. She found her hand gravitate to hilt of the Dagger of Night every few minutes and the overwhelming knowledge that she was completely useless when she did not hold it cemented itself in her mind.

  Arabella did not comment on all that she felt and heard. Wynn was working through her own issues and Arabella for once felt like she was intruding on something achingly private. Before she had used her gift as a way to manipulate people, to gain an insight into their weaknesses and played it to her advantage but Wynn was so innocent and naive and dealing with so much pain Arabella could not bring herself to listen. It did not help that she and Wynn said but a few words as they walked across the expanse of land. The more Arabella said the more Wynn found her replies were growing in sharpness and irritation. Arabella said nothing but Wynn could feel her unspoken concern. Wynn swallowed painfully and wondered why she was so angry with Arabella when she had done nothing but help her and support her. Forcing her mind clear she resumed walking, forbidding herself to think of anything other than happy thoughts.

  A town appeared in the distance late the next day. It stretched along the horizon, lost in the haze of the sun. The coldness and hostility they had felt was slowly disappearing, and was replaced with a hunger to be clean and fed. Wynn wanted to run towards the town but she knew that if she lost the pattern of walking she would not be able to continue on. Slowly, so painfully slowly that Wynn was almost sure that the town was not really there, a mirage of hunger and exhaustion; they reached the edge of the town. It was huge and stretched right across the horizon. The ground changed from the flat, hard ground of the plains to the uneven cobbles of the streets.

  The town was alive with activity, men bartered until they were hoarse, desperately trying to sell their produce. The smell of dried fruits and meats mingled in the air. Houses lined the streets; their blank wooden faces watching the people pass by. Inns were spread sparsely through the town, horses being led to and fro from their overworked stables. In the very distance a forest could be seen, the tops of the trees black against the blue sky. The streets were winding and filthy and the whole place seemed unloved.

  The people for the most part ignored them, two dusty, thin girls who had seemingly appeared from nowhere. Wynn felt the flood of emotions that she had become used to, but a few of the villagers as they walked past emitted nothing. Wynn could feel the very essence that made them alive, but they were emotionless inside. It was not like how Medea had felt. It was clear that Medea was hiding her emotions but these people... it was as though they had been stripped from them. Wynn glanced at Arabella, to ask about the feeling, but Arabella’s frown and pinched lips prevented any conversation. Wynn wondered whether it meant she did not know or she did not wish to have the conversation in public.

  It mattered not, when Wynn spotted the inn she almost cried for joy and all worry for the villagers evaporated. She was tired and caked in dirt. She had not washed for almost three weeks and the thought of a bath was almost too much to comprehend. Arabella led the way, winding between horses and carts until they stopped outside the inn. It was a pleasant place, with flowers growing on a window box and ivy crawling up the bricks. The owner came bursting out and welcomed them in. He was a portly man with thinning hair, but with a smile of such gen
tility that Wynn could not help but trust him.

  “Welcome my ladies,” he said loudly, bowing dramatically. Wynn snorted in disbelief at the man. My lady? Unperturbed the man flashed them a smile, indicated for them to enter, and gestured around the inn.

  “Through that door is the dining and lounging room, and through there the kitchens,” he gestured to the stairs, “I will show you to your room.”

  Wynn opened her mouth to explain they had no money, but Arabella shot her a violent glance and Wynn bowed her head and followed the man up the stairs. They would be sharing a room; two small single beds were placed awkwardly at either side of the room. A small round table with two rickety chairs sat in the corner. Arabella nodded expressionlessly at the room, the man instead watched Wynn who was eyeing the room with mild amazement. It was so much larger than her room back at Oprend Manor.

  Out of the corner of her eye she inspected the man; she could feel his happiness at their arrival, but nothing else. He was round and his grey, thinning hair betrayed his age. As she looked at him, inside him she could see a small flame in her mind’s eye, it was more than seeing it was feeling as well.

  “Dinner in the evening,” the man smiled, interrupting her thoughts, then bowed out of the room. Wynn sighed and almost collapsed onto the bed, the softness of the straw stuffed mattress made her body cry in protest at how badly she had been treating it. She closed her eyes, but forced them open, first a wash then food, then sleep... blissful sleep. Her thoughts of peace and relaxation were rudely awakened with her conscious; how were they going to pay?

  “We have no money,” Wynn questioned Arabella who was sitting on one of the chairs looking out of the stain glass window, watching the villagers. She waved her hand to avoid the question, but Wynn could not let it go.