The Queen's Curse

by Hellenthal, Natasja

  ‘Normally wings are not given lightly,’ Eolas spoke to just the two of them a little later on.

  ‘Woodchildren only receive them after a major accomplishment of the soul. You see; you can posses a certain knowledge, but to act like it shows a great amount of true insight and wisdom. You truly have just that. Your joined effort has also proven again and again what a powerful team you are. To be honest, I think Sempervirens suspected that only together you could make a powerful friend or foe. She must have been intrigued; her curiosity was also her downfall. ’

  Tirsa embraced Eolas, hiding her tears in his black cloak. He held her long and caressed her back.

  When she withdrew, Artride fell into his arms and thanked him.

  Music was heard again and they sat down and listened as they took it all in; the rhythmic beat of the drum, which was joined by the sound of flutes, the dancing and playing Woodchildren, the colours of their skin and clothes, the warm bonfire and the pale moon. The scents of the night and the drinks, the soft scent of the TalamhClann which tasted like earth and leaves on their tongue. And then the new idea of having wings to fly, it overwhelmed them to put it mildly.

  The night passed by and new members came as did some Windchildren. They’d lost many of their kind to the sorceress.

  Kasching was among the small group. His pale eyes shone brightly in the dark and his fair hair stood more erect than they remembered. He held a large instrument which hung from his shoulder; a sack with pipes attached; something both women had never seen and had no name for. He looked amused and clasped the hands of many Woodchildren, his closest relatives, as did the other Windchildren. They talked and laughed with many hand gestures as they spoke.

  Artride and Tirsa also spotted another familiar face; it was another pale lad. They’d seen him in the cave in bed with the sorceress! He stood alone and had a numb look on his face. Nobody seemed to care for him; until one of his kind, a pale girl brushed his arm and led him over to sit by the fire.

  It was clear he was still confused and needed time for his recovery.

  ‘Should we go and talk to him?’ Tirsa asked Artride.

  ‘Better to ask one of his kind what they see fit.’

  But now that most were there, they needed to tell the story of what happened in the cave.

  Briefly, Artride told about the difficulties on their way towards the Domain of Sempervirens they had faced, before Tirsa began telling about the dark tunnels and all the enchantments of the sorceress to test their worthiness. Including the demon, their captivity and escape, the wonders and illusions, the magical mirror, and the living curtains. They listened with awe and amazement.

  Artride told about meeting the Dominator, their conversations and their final test. The finding of the spell book and meeting Eolas was already known to most, and the outcome, but Artride told on to teach them more about the sorceress.

  ‘She really was a victim herself, and her grief, remorse and wrath was something too great for her to carry on her own. Eolas was too close, too dear to her to help her. And too involved and blinded by love for her. She needed love of course, as we all do; we need to love and to be loved. But her heart was too hurt for that, she had built an almost unbreakable wall around it. The tragedy that befell her, led to making new victims. It was all she had ever known. Your kind was a triumph for her and she envied you highly; your beauty, your innocence, your kindness and oneness with everything,’ and she glanced to one of the Windchildren. ‘Your immortality … It was a strange way of showing her appreciation, I know, but she had nothing personal against you really. It was humans she despised and hated in truth, and it was them she wanted to conquer in the end; if she was to live longer. That would have been her greatest victory.’

  ‘But humans have no magic,’ a greenish looking lad with scarlet hair said, wondering. ‘At least, usually no ordinary humans and they are normally weaker than us. She got most of her magic from Eolas, after all, so why did she not start with humans?’

  ‘They are human too and they conquered her,’ another said, nodding at the two women.

  ‘That must mean they are greater than her.’

  ‘She was perhaps preparing herself for the ultimate revenge,’ Artride answered. ‘I suppose no real magic was needed in our case. We reasoned with her, showed compassion for her and softened her heart,’ Artride said. ‘It is true it would have been easier for her to use and misuse other humans instead of you,’ she admitted. ‘They had hurt her to begin with. Not the whole human race, but still, it would have made more sense. But she was preparing herself for them and sort of trained and gained power with you; even extracted energy from you, your magic. However, she was hardly human herself anymore, but mostly she forgot what it was like to be human. Moreover, she failed to understand humans in all their complexity. She at least knew you better; your good side, which is obvious. She studied you properly since there were rarely human visitors. From humans she knew only the dark side, which meant pain; or that was perhaps merely the only thing she was able to see. She therefore could not fathom there was a good side in humans too, also in herself. It is true humans stand further apart from nature; but we’re still mammals, even if we do walk on two legs. She did not seem to see, or want to see the good side in humans; which is not all hating and destroying and molesting and using others. No it is loving and nurturing and caring and respecting others. That is why she would have failed in conquering them.’

  They were silent, thinking to themselves.

  ‘Seeing us, watching us all through our hardships in trying to find her,’ Tirsa took over. ‘we reminded her of herself and her own better human side, which she had abandoned or never was shown. Whichever way you want to put it. It led to her downfall. Artride showed her the will to help her, despite all the cruelties of the sorceress towards us. It seemed to work at first; even tears flowed and she let her come near her. But the sorceress still disbelieved that our intentions were genuine. Well, we did try to take her life, so who could blame her,’ Tirsa said with a hidden sneer. ‘Instead she wanted to kill us, until it was too late for her and the knife had already plunged through her heart.’

  ‘You did that?’ a girl asked with no judgement in her voice, just wonder.

  ‘When I saw it was going nowhere – she never would have let Artride help her – I pushed the knife in that Artride already held to her chest to ward her off.’

  Artride smiled at Tirsa about her wording. ‘The only right thing to do, although at that time I wasn’t so sure.’

  ‘Later on Eolas told us, it was really the only way; it was too late to change her. She was too set in her ways, too hurt, too stubborn. Artride softened her heart, broke down the wall so to speak, so that she was vulnerable and … mortal. We took her life at the right moment.’

  Sighs of wonder and amazement were to be heard in the nightly woods.

  Then it was time to relax and they drank some of that wonderful, pleasant flower drink and answered the questions the TalamhClann had.

  Tirsa, however, had plenty questions for them, and now she finally had the chance to get them all answered. She asked them about their origin and their lifestyle, their wisdom and magic.

  ‘We are perhaps in some ways like you,’ a bluish girl told her. ‘We live side by side, but you hardly see us, for we can make ourselves invisible to your eyes if we want to. That’s much fun really.’ And she laughed. ‘But it’s safer for us to stay away from you people, because your negativity affects us and we can get ill from that.’

  ‘We live in another dimension,’ another Woodchild explained. ‘And see things differently; we see the souls of all living things, their auras extended and mingled in every way possible.’

  ‘We are related,’ again another said. ‘And we developed side by side; being intelligent beings on different planes, however, we stayed connected with our mother, while you people kept using her and returning little or nothing, forgetting to worship her and worse … neglecting and using her; stripping the ear
th bare, building your cities where once proud forests stood.’

  ‘We are caretakers. We nurture the plants and surround the trees with love. We hear their voices,’ another said.

  Artride suddenly remembered the entrapped people in the trees on their way to the cave and she asked them about their fate, and was told that their souls had at last found their way to the peace of death with the passing of the sorceress.

  ‘They could not return to their human shapes, being too old for that.’

  The women listened to their stories and learned to understand their way of life, which was like the waxing of the moon; forever changing gradually, like everything in nature. And in a way they reminded them how they would like to live themselves; or should have if the circumstances would have been different. They got offers enough to stay and though tempting, they could of course not accept, at least not now. Their heads were tilting with all the knowledge they’d gained.

  And their own story wasn’t over by far. There still was a law book whose curse had to be lifted with the given counter spell and a brother who had to be freed. And the most challenging was for Artride alone; to set up a whole new law system for Ceartas. She would need lots of advisers and all of her wits about her in order to do that.

  But that seemed so surreal and far away yet to Artride, whose mind was with the party, and she tried not to think about her coming task and most of all … the passing days. She danced with members of the TalamhClann and with Eolas and Roalda. She hadn’t had the chance yet to dance with Tirsa who looked carefree and joyous as well, clapping her hands and feet at the rhythm of the drums, laughing, swirling around from here to there, taking it all in. She seemed to glow like never before; happy.

  She seemed to fit in here. Artride knew that in her heart she perhaps wanted to stay, although she would never admit to that; still dutiful and true to her queen and country. But would she stay that way ; would she change to her old unhappy, bitter self once they got back? Artride feared she would. She didn’t want to see her unhappy ever again. So she wouldn’t blame her if she did decide to return after her brother was freed …

  Artride’s eyes followed her around with a warm glow in her heart, and she smiled sitting down for a moment. She thought about ways to thank her once home; but she still had to come up with a proper gift. She knew Tirsa didn’t care about titles and honour, so it had to be something else … something – ‘It has no birthplace, nor does it die anywhere,’ a deep rich metallic voice suddenly rang in her ears. She turned around and stared into the pale blue eyes of Kasching. He smiled at her, perching down beside her. ‘It created deserts, sank ships, felled entire forests, but carries leaves and seeds as well. It blows through cities with music and strange voices. It has no limits …’

  Artride wanted to smile at him, but realised he was stating a riddle for her and she narrowed her eyes. ‘Don’t tell me it’s you who was in fact that creepy little tree creature with his riddles?’

  He started laughing and threw his head backwards.

  ‘What would you do to me if I had been?’

  ‘Rip your head off?’ she smiled sweetly and innocently at him.

  He could not stop laughing, not in a mocking way; but in a genuinely amused way.

  ‘I’m sorry to say we are not acquainted. I would have like to see you do that. I’ve heard stories about that creepy tree guard. He is gone now, rest assured. He was an old trapped soul himself, working for the queen.’ And he got up, bowing before her.

  ‘May I have this dance with you, Artride.’

  She flushed at that and nodded, standing up.

  ‘The wind does all those things you talked about,’ she said and touched his arm, which felt warm and very alive. ‘It does wonderful things, but it can be frightening as well.’ And she remembered the storms rushing around the walls of the castle at nights when she lay alone in her bed, as big a castle as it was, the place still seemed to moan and howl.

  ‘You shall never be lonely ever again, Artride. You shall have our friendship, our company and our help into eternity. And we’re happy to give it to you. We are forever grateful.’ She wondered if he had read her mind …

  ‘Be careful what you promise, Kasching, for eternity is a very long time.’

  ‘Indeed it is. However our promises are not lightly given; we stay true to them.’ His face turned a little tight and his mouth thin when he spoke, ‘No one can harness the wind, right? Wrong, the Dominator managed to keep one of our kind alive. I have talked to him and he said she was his wind all that time.’

  ‘She used magic …’

  ‘Very powerful magic; for more than five Windchildren died before Dashim was captured. But she found a way to be his wind; very cunning.’

  ‘I saw him in the cave,’ she spoke softly.

  Kasching stared at her. ‘How is he? Does he remember?’

  ‘Little, but enough. As do we all, as he shared it with us, but we recover quicker. He was treated well enough, cherished even, and it seems he was her favourite and therefore he had certain privileges. He feels ashamed, used, drained and worse … empty.’

  ‘Did any of them try to fight her?’

  ‘Yes, but often that made things harder. Their souls were chained; away from their magic, from the source of their magic, stripped bare so to speak and enchanted. No free will.’

  She felt sad, but then remembered it was over and all of the Wind and Woodchildren free, and she said so. ‘I just hope they recover soon.’

  ‘Right, let’s dance.’ And he extended his hand and guided her to the circle of dancing folk around the fire. All through the night there was no more talking, but dancing on the rhythm of the cheerful music. She danced with Dashim as well, carefully, but he was visible touched by the gesture.

  Then a harpist started to play a gentle slow tune and all the other musicians stopped playing. Most of the TalamhClann sought out the person they loved to dance an intimate dance with. Artride saw that Tirsa bit her lip and made room for the dancing couples, feeling embarrassed, walking over to sit with the people who did not dance; which weren’t many.

  The queen was one of them, however she tried to make eye contact and suddenly Tirsa felt her stare and looked back. She stood up and faced her. Standing in front of her, she stood too and accepting her hands lightly in hers, they walked over to the other dancing couples and the dying fire. She smiled at her friend and Tirsa smiled timidly back. The harpist began to sing a sad song with her beautiful clear voice and all couples were dancing closely. For the first time they accepted their mutual bond. Had their bond become so strong because of their hardships and suffering together or was it more than that? Staring into each other’s eyes a long time, they had no doubts. Their hands sought out their familiar waists and shoulders, without feeling discomfort or embarrassment. It felt right for both of them and they held each other close during the song; skin to skin, cheek to cheek, moving slow on the music. Their heartbeats so close.

  When the song stopped, it seemed too soon; but it really had lasted longer than any of the songs so far. Reluctantly they parted; still holding hands, never letting go of each other. Roalda started to speak and they were all to be seated again.

  It was said that years after that party, The Celebration of Heroes, was the most enchanted and special the TalamhClann had ever had. And not only for the fact that it had hosted two humans, but for all the emotions and releasing of them, that had glowed through the night, and it was felt by all present, even after the bonfire had gone out …

  CHAPTER 24

  HOMECOMING

  The end of every quest is to become what you are.

  The next morning for the first time after that magical evening and night, Artride picked up the slab of wood; the counter spell, given to her by Eolas and started to examine it.

  She read the tiny black words encrypted in the wood:

  When the sun meets the waning moon, Ceartas’ king and his queen shall meet in my chamber in front of my book. The couple shal
l have in each corner a beeswax candle. One red for the blood of the Ceartasians shed, one black for their deaths, one blue for the tears shed and one pure white for the innocence lost. By this light their two bodies shall be as one. Only then shall I be lifted from the Law Book.

  Artride felt her blood go cold. She read the words over and over again, emotions flaring.

  ‘No, no, no,’ was all she could say.

  Tirsa, who was just coming her way, noticed immediately something wrong by the pale complexion on the queen’s face.

  ‘What is it?’ she glanced at the counter spell and read the words as well for the first time. They had been so occupied that they had not thought to do this until now.

  Artride stood up. ‘I’ve got to find Eolas.’ And she ran away.

  Perplexed Tirsa read, ‘When the sun meets the waning moon,’ That’s tomorrow morning and the two mornings after that. That’s good, we’re on time. But then she read on.

  ‘Ceartas’ king and his queen …’ That’s not good … and understood why Artride was so upset.

  She has no king …

  Surely that meant that in order for the counter spell to work, she had to marry …

  ~ ~ ~

  ‘You cannot be serious!’ Artride almost shouted at Eolas when she found him.

  ‘Ceartas’ king and his queen shall meet?’

  ‘Look, this is the counter spell the way it was made at the time when the curse was being drawn. There was a king at that time,’ Eolas calmly spoke, understanding her fury.

  ‘A king who was married. It also says, “His queen”!‘

  ‘Every spell; or curse in this case, has its counterpart. So do people, for this curse two people are needed it seems.’