Gwenth leaned over the table toward Lillith, “Yes of course,” Gwenth said.
“She wonders why you have not befriended the translator stone yet. It is said that the future one will speak clearly with the traveling stones.”
Gwenth felt flustered. “I…I don’t know how to befriend a stone. I don’t even think stones can be befriended, can they? Maybe this is just another sign I’m not the one you’ve been waiting for.”
“The Rowan says you must make friends with them, as you would any friend and offer assistance, and ask them for guidance. They are waiting to be of help. She says you should go back now, and do this and she also says don’t be afraid to touch the stones, Briok was wrong in that.”
Lillith stood and disappeared momentarily. While she was gone Gwenth looked around again at the smooth walls of the room, she saw something she hadn’t noticed before, thin dark lines that ringed the room and she saw how the tree used those thin rings pressing them outward, to provide all that the young Fey needed, from the table and chair to a place to rest, even shelves and cubbies seemed to grow right out of the tree’s inner walls. Gwenth felt unsure and more than a little lost. How could any of this be real?
Popping back into the room, Lillith held a small net bag. “Here is some fruit for your evening meal,” Lillith said. “The Rowan wants you to watch your dreams tonight, for they may teach you much. She will send you back through the door now.” Lillith stepped forward and shyly hugged Gwenth. “Take care little one, we will dream of your success,” Lillith said, stepping back.
Gwenth bowed. “I hope that will help and thank you both.”
Gwenth unexpectedly found herself looking at the crystal wall across the deep cavern; all the stones seemed to be reflecting her image back at her. Perhaps it was only a dream, but then she looked down and saw the bag of fruit in her hand. “Hmm, make friends with the stone wall. Ok I wonder how I go about that.”
Gwenth took the fruit over and sat down in the warm sand, in the place that had oddly begun to feel like home, or at least a safe haven which was far better to her mind than a prison. Through the top of the doorway Gwenth could see it was dark outside, but here inside the cavern the walls glowed softly. She pondered her assignment from the Rowan, as she ate the fruit. Jumping up suddenly, Gwenth went to the wall and spoke. “Hi, I’m Gwenth, would you like to be my friend. I can offer you my assistance and I have some sacred water and fruit to share.” She stood still waiting several minutes, but nothing happened. Feeling silly she turned and wandered back to sit down once again in the sand. Gwenth was puzzled and as she continued to eat she let her mind wander, trying to guess what actions she should take. “Perhaps I need to talk directly to the translator stone,” as soon as the words were out of her mouth the soft glowing walls brightened sharply, then once again faded back to a soft glow. Standing up she dusted herself off and once more walked back to the wall and quickly located the tiny translator stone. Gwenth felt rather silly, but cleared her throat, “Hi, I’m Gwenth and I wanted to tell you I think you are so beautiful, and all your friends too.” At this the stones all grew visibly brighter and stayed brighter. “So you can hear me,” Gwenth said her own voice bright with pleasure. “Wonderful! Would you like to be friends? I have water and fruit if you would like some, though I don’t know if stones eat fruit and the Rowan says I should offer my assistance, which I’m happy to do.” Again the stones grew still brighter.
Suddenly the walls began to vibrate. Gwenth became afraid as the ground began to shake, and she let out a screech, as she hurried back to the soft sands.
“Child there is no reason to fear, we were just sharing a moment of joy that you have finally spoken to us.”
Gwenth’s eyes grew wide for the voice came from all around her. She could feel her heart pounding, thumping hard inside her chest.
“We of the ancient stone people are delighted, and while we don’t eat fruit, if you would pour a few drops of water over me, we all could delight in that.”
Gwenth’s hands shook, and her voice squeaked, in an unrecognizable high pitch when she opened her mouth to speak. “Ah sure, but who is me,” she asked? She coughed trying to clear her throat and regain her composure.
“I am the one you call, the translator stone. I can communicate with you and the other stones as well. It is my purpose to share with the others, and with all who learn the ways of the stone tribe. I also translate languages to help people communicate better.”
At this Gwenth retrieved the water flask and took it directly to the wall, and poured out several small drops of water onto the tiny stone.
The wall suddenly flared up brightly and then a sound of cracking could be heard echoing throughout the cavern. “Do not be alarmed child, it’s is just us being refreshed, from the sacred waters.” Right before Gwenth’s eyes the translator stone came away from the wall and fell to the sand.
“Oh no,” Gwenth fell to her knees and there in the sand lay the beautiful stone, a long slender purple crystal glowing brightly.
“Don’t fear my child, this was always meant to happen. I am free to go with you now and we will give aid to you in the coming time ahead. Please, it’s alright. Pick me up.”
Gwenth reached down and gently picked up the stone. She gently brushed the sand from the stone’s crystalline faces. “Truly I never meant to hurt you?”
“Let your mind be at rest dear one, there was no pain I could not stand. Unlike your own race our race is not so afraid to face pain to grow. We are the oldest race in the Realm, no others came before us, and when all die they eventually return to us. Even the Rowan and the Realm are young compared to us. Please take me over and sit upon the warm sands. It will sooth and help you to calm yourself. I don’t wish my people to be the cause of any fear for you.”
Gwenth took the stone to the sand and settled herself in; it did indeed feel better to sit down in the warmth. She couldn’t imagine how she could be so tired, but she was.
“Thank you for befriending us, we have waited a long time for your arrival. Drink some of the water and then lie back and rest. Put me down at your head so that I may listen to your dreams. The cavern will protect you tonight, while you sleep.”
Gwenth did as she was told. She drank thirstily from the flask and even before she could put her head down, she felt the healing bubbles running through her. Carefully she laid the stone near her head after she lay back in the warm sands. “Oh my, I forgot to ask your name?”
“Oh you are a dear child aren’t you,” the stone brightened excitedly as it spoke. “Few have asked and fewer have been answered, but for your kindness we shall tell you. Our name is Dembys. Now tomorrow is a busy day, lay your head back and rest. We will watch over you, Gwenth.”
“Good night Dembys.”
Pit
It had taken the keeper of the water, most of the day to follow the young Fey’s energy trail down to the door of the journeying cavern, and while it was true his walk would always remain slower than a snail’s pace, his mind was sharper than most. When he had arrived, he’d found the cavern empty, but was surprised to find the vessel of healing water left there, and so he had decided to wait. As time passed he considered wondering out the main entrance to take in a view of the sea, but his intuition held him back. He didn’t want to be caught outside if someone came. When the young girl popped suddenly into the cavern, he’d been more than a little surprised, and so he had been present to witness the young girl calling a translator stone off the cave wall, and had been privy to that conversation.
Now the girl child slept with the translator stone on duty at her crown. The overseer of the sacred water spent the night unobtrusively among the large stalagmites at the back of the cavern. The elder considered all the ramifications of the girl’s arrival, as he spent the night resting in the sand. Clearly this girl was the real threat to the Realm, this young red haired girl who needed no wings to move about. He knew her magic must be very strong to have removed the stone. As far as he knew there were none in any o
f the tribes who now could do such a feat. He was fairly certain anyone, other than himself who might have possessed such a skill, had long passed away.
Pit, for that’s what he was called by the tribes. He had arrived one day, falling from the sky and landed in this world. He was a meteorite, a hot mass of heavy metal flesh, and when he landed he had carved a deep hole. The races of this world had been unable to pronounce his name. He was the last of his people, it had no longer mattered to him, what he was called, and so he had suggested, they call him Pit. Once the tribes realized he had not come to cause harm, the people of the Realm had welcomed him, and accepted him without trouble. Revolutions passed within the Realm, and eventually the elders had seen fit to offer him a position on the council, and he was made guardian of the sacred well. Eventually he too became an elder. At the appointment, he’d happily moved below ground to be closer to his duties. Deep within the Rowan’s root system he’d lived for a very long time now, and rarely found a reason to visit above ground. Though times had been changing, recently on one of the rare visits to the surface, he had overheard someone suggest that he might take a willful child away, if the child could not behave himself. It shocked and saddened him to see such fear running rampant in the people of the Realm. Too many of the old races had passed away while he had puttered away his years at the well.
He could foresee enough to know, it would make no difference if he raised the alarm, this world could not survive what was coming; and so Pit, with his heavy rough body sat quietly soaking up the heat from the warming sands, and watched the girl as she slept through the night. He considered trying to kill her himself, but knew without a shadow of a doubt the translator stone along with the cavern itself would stop him long before he could reach the girl. In fact he was surprised that the stone had not done something about him already. This thought gave him pause, either the stone considered him ineffectual or he had some part to play in helping the young girl. A dreadful feeling began to settle over him. It was bad enough to be considered in effectual, but to even consider betraying the people who’d taken him and made him welcome, caused a great sadness to wash over him.
He would wait for the girl to waken, and then make himself known; perhaps the girl or the stone could offer some answer to his dilemma. He decided to rest and recharge his body till then.
Hard Choices
Briok slept little during the night and when at the break of dawn he rose, he found both his parents, their heads on their arms, asleep at the table too. Several loose sheaves of pounded and matted leaf were strewn across the tabletop.
Briok tiptoed about the tree, so as not to wake his parents, with the hum of wing beats. Quietly he retrieved fruit from the basket and gathered the food into a sling.
“Son,” his mother’s voice croaked. “You know you never have been particularly quiet.”
Briok stood stalk still, his hand stopped in mid-air, as he was about to steady himself to walk through the door, something he was much better at on wings than on foot. “Mother, you scared me,” he said. Whirling about he found both his parents smiling broadly at him.
Briok’s father flitted over to him and taking the nesting bag from him drew him into a warm embrace. Briok felt his father’s arms tighten about his body; he could feel the emotion running through his father. He could also feel the strength his father was sharing with him through the hug. He sensed desperation, and pushed his father away, holding him at an arms’ length to look into his face.
“Father what is it? Why are you afraid? Has Gwenth been found out?”
“No son, the girl is fine as far as I know, but come and eat with us; your mother and I need to discuss this further with you. There are things you have to know,” he said. He held Briok in his steady embrace as he urged the boy back towards the table.
His mother flitted about and quickly brought the meal together, settling everyone with water and fruit at the table, before taking a seat herself. “Son, I spoke with Sephoria, last night and things were revealed to me that Sephoria and the Great Rowan have apparently known for some time,” she said, staring across the table at Briok. “I don’t know how else to say this, and you know I’ve never been good at coddling, so I’m just going to blurt it out; Sephoria says that you must help this girl free Lillith and then you both must go into the future with her.”
Briok’s breath caught, and he choked on the seaweed. His father jumped up, and reached over, slapping him hard between his wing sockets. Briok stared at his plate, as he tried to quiet his coughing, but he could feel his mind racing out of control. Finally he braced himself and raised his eyes to look first at his mother and then at his father, as he let the new information settle over him. He wished he had already gone through his awakening rituals so that he could use magic to disappear from the room. Swallowing hard he looked up and asked, “Is this true?” He felt his fear and anger rising up as he watched his parents’ faces. “Is this why you two have slept at the table all night, to tell me I would have to leave the Realm? Is that really what the Great Sage, Sephoria told you, mother?” Briok turned his gaze on his father, “Or did you and your cronies come to this conclusion during your argument, Father?”
Lindel slammed his palm down against the table. “That’s enough Briok! Don’t let your fear rule over you son. We are just as devastated by this news as you are. Sephoria shared the news with your mother only last night, so we are just as much in shock as you are lad and as for my cronies I was fighting to save both you and the girl from being turned in as traitors. Remember the fear,” he said, lowering his voice, “that we all felt after Lillith was taken? Those council members were there too and are of course afraid for their own families, they aren’t sure we can even keep you safe,” Lindel said, as his voice cracked.
Lisl reached out and took her mate’s hand. They both needed the connection; never had either of them expected any of this to take place. She knew without a doubt if they could have foreseen these events, they never would have listened to the Rowan or the secret council all those years ago. She couldn’t believe that long ago decision was now going to bring harm to her family. “Briok, did Gwenth say anything to you about all this? Maybe we should come and meet her. It might help.”
Briok wanted to cry, but he knew the harm it would bring, the orange tears would just waste his precious life force and he couldn’t afford that right now. He wasn’t sure he had built up enough life force or knowledge to survive this calamity that was being foretold for his people. He looked at his parent’s faces and saw the fear and anxiety upon their features. He saw his father’s hands shake as his mother reached over to take them within her own. Briok’s head swam with fear and worry. “Mother,” he sighed and he felt his wings droop a little. “It would not help in any way for you to meet Gwenth. She is not a Fey, but a species from the future of her world. Sephoria told Gwenth, she has great magic and that she is related to Lillith. Sephoria went so far as to show Gwenth the energy line between herself and Lillith. I heard Gwenth say something about the end of the Realm yesterday, but I just thought she was confused.” Briok broke off, as his throat closed shut on his tears.
Raising his head, Lindel looked up at his son’s pale face. He cleared his throat, “I can hear the fear and worry in your voice son, and it is easy to see the strain you are under is great, perhaps greater than it need be. If Sephoria says Gwenth and Lillith are related, you all must have made it to the future for that to have happened. It is not much but at least it is a sign for continued hope. Sephoria says there is no other choice but to send you three forward in time to Gwenth’s world, either way this timeline will end soon. Of course we would all choose differently if we could. Never would we allow you to leave, if there was any other hope at all.” Lindel’s face fell and great orange tears streamed down his face.
Briok and Lisl stared in horror. How could he waste so much life force?
“Father, please don’t cry.” Briok said, reaching out for his father’s hand. Seeing this is more frighte
ning to me, than even leaving the realm.”
Lindel’s tears slowed and he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. Crying may have given life force away he couldn’t say, but he only felt relief from his overwhelming emotions. “First, because I know you are worried, let me say that the Rowan has told me no life force is lost, if the crying does not go on over long. In fact, the Rowan says it can actually help to cry by relieving the tension, and I would have to say from this first experience I agree with that. Perhaps if we are wrong about crying there are other things we have been wrong about too. We have a plan, son. Tonight Lisl and I are going to bring about your awakening. We will cleanse your energy paths and harmonize your energies fields. In the new world you will need all the strength you can gather here. I only wish we could have taught you some of the deeper teachings on energy work, we always thought there’d be time.”
Lisl flew around the table and leaned down pulling Briok’s head gently to her chest. “Try to eat more, son; you’ll need your strength. Know that your father and I are determined to do whatever we must to insure your survival. I will pack another breakfast for you to take to Gwenth and then you must follow your usual routine so that no suspicion is aroused. For now anyway the secret council has sworn to continue holding these events in secret, but we must all be very, very, careful,” and with that she flitted away to gather up another breakfast.
Briok forced himself to chew his food, and tried to calm his racing heart. So much had happened already, his mind reeled with the possibility that there was even worse to come. He didn’t want to go to the future. He didn’t want to go to this place called Earth. He wanted to stay here in the Realm, he wanted to prepare to take over his father’s position working with the stories of the Realm, under the Great Rowan’s guidance and to continue adapting those stories to be relevant for his people. He knew he was being groomed for that task, and he secretly longed for it. The thought struck him; perhaps he could just run away till this was all over? Maybe he should turn in Gwenth himself, and then the elders would see his intentions were true and that Lillith was innocent, then they would free Lillith.
REALM'S END (BOOK OF FEY 1) Page 12
