by Beca Lewis
Until then, I hadn’t realized how much it meant to me to share my experience. It gave me a purpose. It helped me remember why I was doing what I was doing. Berta listened better than anyone I had ever known, except for maybe Grace from the Earth dimension.
The more time I spent with Berta, the more she reminded me of Grace. They looked almost the same. They both had dark brown eyes that looked deep inside and found goodness in everyone. And I needed to know that there was goodness in me.
Like Grace, who knew everyone in the village, so did Berta. Both loved to cook and serve others, and both gave great hugs. Even if Berta wasn’t Grace in the realm of Erda, she made me feel the same. Loved and cared for. And that made all the difference to me because the routine I set for myself was hard, and became harder as the days went by.
Truth be told, I was hoping that someday when I saw my friends again, they would all be proud of me. However, I tried not to make that the main reason because I knew that it would lead me down a dangerous path. I needed to train for myself, and for the people of the Kingdom of Zerenity.
After breakfast, I spent over an hour in my mother’s garden, listening mostly. I quieted my mind the best that I could and then waited. Some days I never did get myself to be quiet, and other days I was filled with so many feelings that I would find myself crying throughout the entire hour.
I knew I couldn’t make one experience better than another. Even though I preferred those magical times when I could feel the earth breathe through me, that didn’t make them better than the days I had to fight to be calm. Because if I thought that, I wasn’t listening. I was judging.
However, my favorite mornings in the garden were when I felt my mother’s presence. It was as if she had left little love notes for me there, that I would run into every once in a while. Not physical ones. But thoughts don’t go away just because someone is not with us anymore. Or that’s what Aki had told me, and I believed her.
Thoughts hang around waiting for someone to read them, or tune into them. I knew my mother had left those love notes for me deliberately, hoping that someday I would come to the garden and collect them.
I left her little love notes there too, just in case she was somewhere she could receive them. One can hope, can’t they?
Berta would pack me a light lunch because she knew that I would be out all day and probably not be back to the house until dinner. My lunch was always waiting for me in the kitchen after my hour in the garden. The rest of the day varied. I practiced some of the moves that Niko had taught me. Without a sparring partner it was more difficult, but I did it anyway.
Aki had worked with me to improve my range of movement, and I spent time doing many of the yoga forms that she had taught me.
After that, I ran. I altered where I ran. Some days I ran through the woods and tried to clear the way through the trees the way that Ruta would do. That didn’t work. Maybe only Ruta’s people, who looked like tree stumps if you looked at them with squinted eyes, could do that.
It was probably for the best that I couldn’t because I started to learn how to run without tripping over my own feet. Sometimes I swear the trees dropped their branches so I would learn to duck, and raised their roots so I would pay attention. I thought I heard them laugh at me, but I didn’t mind. The trees were my companions. I knew that the trees provided all the magic and life that made up Erda.
Other days I ran through the streets into the meadow and then up the hill. It took a long time for me to get up that hill without stopping and trying to breathe without passing out. It helped to pretend that Beru, my little elf-like friend who looked like a flower, was with me. I would imagine her holding my hand and her long legs effortlessly pulling me up the hill. At the top, I would pause, take in the city of Eiddwen, thank Beru for running with me, and head back down. How many times I tripped and fell on the way down was ridiculous, but after a few weeks of training, I was running more like Beru and less like the clumsy person I was before.
Some days I saw Lady circling above my head. Usually, she flew by herself, but once in a while a whole crown of dragons would fly by and dip their black and white wings at me, and my heart would lift in gratitude. I was still being watched over, even if no one was talking to me. I knew they would, in time, and I would be ready.
Deadsweep Six
Each day, before the day was over, I did one more thing. Maybe it was the most important thing, but I tried not to make it feel that way. I practiced feeling and using my gifts of magic.
Right before we defeated Shatterskin, I had remembered most of the magical gifts that I had. Not all of them. But I had remembered how to shoot lightning bolts, and how to fly short distances. I wanted to do so much more than that, but I had to start with what I had remembered and improve those abilities.
Since the day I shot lightning bolts out of my hands to convince the people of Beru’s village that there was a danger they needed to prepare for, I could use that skill to a greater or lesser degree.
I had used it, with the Priscillas’ help, to dissolve the batteries inside of Shatterskin and light balls of tree sap with it. However, since then the lightning out of my hands wasn’t always available.
I didn’t want to have to be angry or afraid to make my magic work. What I wanted was to be able to control it when I needed it, even if it was only to light a fire.
I had plans. I was going to travel to the Castle on my own, and I knew I needed to know how to start a campfire. It would seem that if I could shoot lightning bolts, lighting fires would be an easy thing to do. Right. Not at all.
There were days that nothing happened. I breathed, prayed, listened, stamped my feet, yelled, cried, and that little pile of wood I had set beside the woods outside of Eiddwen just stared back at me. Yes, stared back at me, mocking me.
Then other days I would stretch out my hand, the same way I had seen Beru light a fire, and “poof,” there it was. I’m not sure which made me more frustrated—the times that it didn’t work, or the times that it did—because I had no idea how it was happening when it did work, or why it wouldn’t work the other times.
Flying was the same. Some days I could leap and fly through the trees, and other days, nothing. Even though using magical skills was not consistent for me, I was determined to be persistent in my practice.
When I shared my frustration with Berta, she would tell me to be patient. Perhaps it wasn’t time yet. When she said that, I knew that she knew I was going to leave, with or without my friends.
I needed to find out what was happening with Abbadon. The only way I knew to do that was to start walking back to the Castle and talk to the people I met along the way to find out what was going on in the Kingdom.
Without Professor Link’s communication channel in my head, I felt almost blind. I used to be upset that people were always listening in and talking to me in my head. Now I would give anything to have all of those voices back.
One morning Berta asked me if I had met the people of Eiddwen yet. If I was preparing to meet other people in my walk across the Kingdom, why not start at home?
It was times like that when I discover that I am still an idiot. How could I have missed that part? That day I added time in my training to meet people. I walked the streets of Eiddwen and talked to people working in their gardens. I joined the kids playing in the streets. I went to the stores and bought the supplies that Berta needed to run my father’s house.
I sat in the parks and talked to whoever came to sit beside me. The more I met the people, the more I wanted to know all about them. I started knocking on doors and introducing myself as Hannah. I didn’t want to be Princess Kara Beth, possibly the future Queen Kara Beth. I wanted to be a member of the village.
They knew I wasn’t just Hannah. Even though I hadn’t remembered them, they remembered me. But they all pretended along with me that Hannah was who
I was. I ate with them. I held their newborn babies. I learned how to feed the chickens, plant the next crop of lettuce, and make a decent pot of soup. Along the way, I stopped yearning for what I didn’t have and found that the more love I gave the people, the more joy I felt.
No one said anything about Abbadon. I wasn’t looking for information about him. When I left, it would be time enough to learn more about his evil ways. My time in Eiddwen was about relearning about the good ways.
Yes, I must have known these things when I had lived in Erda before I was sent to the Earth dimension. Yes, I had experienced the good ways in the Earth Realm, but I hadn’t known that I could find them no matter where I was. I hadn’t known how easy it was to find the good ways in every culture and every dimension.
I still wore the star necklace that Liza, the girl from Beru’s village, gave to me. I knew that if I touched it, I would see the world differently. I would be able to see the 4D of it. But Aki’s warning to me to not use it just because I was curious had stuck with me.
I practiced trying to see differently without it and once in a while, I could. I could see the intertwining of all nature as one. I trusted that when I needed more, it would come to me. I added that to my daily practice.
Finally, almost six weeks later, I was ready. I had learned to light a fire with my magic (besides, I was bringing matches just in case magic failed) and my body was strong and healthy. I had replaced the loneliness in my heart with the love I felt for the people of Eiddwen and for the people I had yet to meet in the Kingdom of Zerenity. I missed my friends. My heart longed to see Zeid again, but if the time was not right for those two things, who was I to change what was supposed to happen?
Although no one talked about what Abbadon was doing, I could feel it. I could feel a dark force heading once again across the desolate land that the Shrieks and Shatterskin had destroyed. I could feel the death it brought with it. I had to meet it and stop it. If I had to walk back to the Castle on my own, I would.
One warm day in late May I said goodbye to my father. He hadn’t changed, but I had. If I never saw him again, I wanted him to know that no matter what, I loved him. I kissed his forehead and backed out of the room taking in the shriveled man on the bed hoping that one day the King in him would return.
Berta had helped me pack a backpack the night before. When she put a change of clothes in it, Berta was letting me know that she knew I was leaving in the morning. There was nothing to say. I had no words to tell her how much I loved her and would miss her.
I couldn’t promise her that I would be back. I couldn’t promise her that I would, or could, save the Kingdom. I could only promise her that I was ready to try.
Deadsweep Seven
I had arrived in Eiddwen by Sound Bubble. It had taken no time at all to get there from the Castle. Getting back to the Castle was going to take much longer.
For one thing, I wanted to stop at Beru’s village and see the people there. Liza’s father James had told me that the town of Kinver would always be a home to me. A home where I could be Hannah and not Princess Kara Beth.
When we were fighting Shatterskin, Kit, one of the men from the village had died, so I also wanted to thank the people of Kinver for his help. In Erda, people’s ashes were scattered to the wind once they moved through the open door called death, so there wasn’t a grave site to visit. But Kit’s spirit and his family would still be there.
On the way out of Eiddwen, I stopped at the top of the hill and looked back. It was a beautiful city, and I was looking forward to visiting again soon. Surprisingly I had found happiness there. A few people stood in the streets looking up at the hill at me. I waved, and they waved back. After one last look, I turned and headed east.
I had decided not to take the road to Kinver. Instead, I wanted to walk through the woods. I had never done this on my own before, but it felt like the right thing to do. Berta had told me to look for the silver trail that would lead me to a stream that flowed southeast. She said to follow the stream’s flow, and it would take me to Kinver.
The words “silver trail” didn’t mean anything to me, but I trusted that Berta would not lead me astray. After waving goodbye, I walked to the edge of the woods and looked for the silver trail.
I could have touched the star on my neck, and I knew that would show me the path, but the point of all this training was to be able to access these abilities without resorting to using outside help. I would use the star in an emergency, but this wasn’t one. I had time.
Since I had been left alone in Eiddwen, I had learned to be much more comfortable with myself. With Berta’s help, I had gained more trust that what I needed would come to me. When I hadn’t seen the trail after standing at the edge of the woods for an hour, I found a nearby rock, or the rock found me, and I sat down and waited some more. Expectant. I knew the path was there. I just couldn’t see it—yet.
I listened. I felt the rock, the ground, the trees, the sky, and the insects scuttling by my feet. I was in no hurry. I was where I was supposed to be. I squashed the part of me that wanted to complain, to roll my eyes at the delay. I waited with my eyes closed feeling the sun warm my face.
I heard Beru’s voice from the past say to me, “Feel it, Hannah, just as you did before you came here. Feel the forest. Feel the ground beneath your feet. Feel what all of nature has to give you. Reach out. Let all of life in.”
When I felt completely at peace, I opened my eyes and saw it—a silver trail leading into the woods.
But I saw something else that made me leap up with joy, grab my backpack, and run as fast as I could to the woods edge.
I wouldn’t be traveling alone after all.
*******
He sat there as if it was the most natural thing in the world. That it wasn’t a big deal for him to be there even though I hadn’t seen him since the defeat of Shatterskin.
He sat there while I ran straight at him. Didn’t move while I grabbed him around the neck so hard we both ended up rolling on the ground—me with my face buried in his gray fur, trying not to cry. Cahir let me, remaining as dignified as he could with a human girl clutching his neck.
“Where have you been, Cahir?” I asked as soon as I could start talking. I was sitting cross-legged on the ground, and Cahir was lying there looking at me with his gold wolf eyes.
“Waiting for you here by the silver trail,” Cahir pushed into my mind.
“All this time?” I asked him.
Cahir showed me that after Shatterskin’s death he had gone to visit his family, traveling with his wolf pack that had come to help that day. He knew that I would be well taken care of at the Castle and didn’t need him for a while. After a nice visit, and siring another round of wolf pups, he had come to Eiddwen to wait for me.
“Why didn’t you come into the village? Or at least show yourself to me when I was waiting on the hill, or running up the dang blasted thing. I could have used a friend then.”
“I was your friend then, Princess. If you had needed help, I was there. But what you needed most was to feel confident and capable on your own. When you were ready, I knew you would see the silver trail, and me here waiting for you.”
One of the gifts visiting the Oracle had restored to me was being able to hear Cahir’s thoughts. That I still could filled me with happiness. And now I could walk through the woods with him to Beru’s village. Not alone. With Cahir.
“Well, I’m here too,” I heard Lady’s voice. She was talking to me again. How could I be any happier? I had passed some kind of test, and my friends were back. Nothing could be more glorious than that.
Except in my heart, I knew that the reason I had been tested was that I would need every skill that I had to be able to face Abbadon’s new monster. All I knew about it was that it would do what Abbadon wanted all his monsters to do. Kill life. Any life. Anywhere.
For Abbadon, sweeping through the Kingdom of Zerenity with death would be the ultimate pleasure.
I planned on denying him that pleasure. And now I had help, and I was going to get more.
Deadsweep Eight
With Lady drumming ahead of us letting us know that everything was safe, Cahir beside me, and the silver thread to guide us, I felt as if heaven had opened up and embraced me. After two months of being by myself, just having Lady and Cahir back with me was almost enough for me to forget that there was still a dangerous madman out there in Erda.
Cahir and I walked together side by side through the forest, taking time to enjoy the sounds and feelings that existed there in harmony. Cahir was silent. Once I realized that no amount of questioning would get him to answer where the rest of the team had gone, I relaxed and walked. The trees gave me a break and didn’t drop their branches or raise their roots, so I could drift along enjoying. I knew they were giving me a gift and I gave thanks for it.
That night, I gathered a moss bed as I had seen Ruta do countless times as we traveled together. I made a fire the same way I had seen Beru do it. I gathered the wood, and then stretched out my hand and lit it. This was work that I had not done before because the team had done it for me. By the time it was time to sleep, I was so tired I could barely pull a layer of leaves over me to keep warm. Beru would do that for me when we traveled together, and I missed her even more.
As I drifted off to sleep, with Cahir lying next to me keeping watch and Lady nesting in a tree above us, I realized once again how spoiled I had been when I arrived in Erda. Everything had been done for me. Perhaps that was how it had to be because I remembered nothing about Erda or my role in saving the Kingdom. I had no magic to speak of, and I was homesick and irritable the minute I picked myself off the ground after tripping over my own feet within seconds of coming through the portal.
