The Dragons Egg : Epilogue : Ethla/ Heidan / Galean / Beon / Celestine : Draft

Epilogue

Ethla

Ethla stood before the lake of Caldul, the great dragon’s egg within her hands, and the rotting bones of Belnun within a small bag. She had watched on with heinous curiosity as the great skies broke into a million streaks of colour the previous night, watched as the three greats stars in the north collide with one another and give off a great beam of light which flowed to the West and watched with a slight twitch of her lips, the red comet pierce through the night sky and skim its way around the earth before falling out of sight. It had excited her and heightened her nefarious intentions. She had waited years for this moment and now that it had come, she would finally reveal her true wickedness and malcontent to her allies and enemies. The mad King Beon was so blinded by the need to avenge his wives death that he had given Ethla free rule over the Galgorian court and army. Her allegiance had never and would never lie with Beon, no it lay with her master, Islaer, King of Ruarr. It had been a plan of exquisite architect and when finally Islaer had found the weakness he needed, Ethla arrived in the city of Gaul and set in a place a terrible and dangerous game to which the King fell for without a moment’s hesitation. She had to play the part well even if it meant taking the odious King to bed and giving birth to a bastard daughter in the process, oh but she was raised in the cells and was no better than an animal. It gave Ethla much pleasure to watch her own child struggle, why she decided to keep the babe was a conundrum, but it mattered not anymore for the child could not speak even at the age of seventeen moons.

A harsh winters wind swept across the large lake, the winter rains falling heavily across the Galgor Mountains, forests and plains. Ethla looked down and marvelled at the dragons egg, for she had never before set her eyes upon on, in fact she was sure that no one of this current age had ever before seen a dragons egg, for only the female mate of the dragon King could lay eggs. It was large and its shape oval; to touch it was warm and to look upon it was beautiful. Its colour was of the deepest shade of gold, with lines of red and orange covering the outer layer. To hold it was heavy, the egg being mature and nearly ready to hatch. Ethla, her long black hair dancing upon the winter winds set the egg down upon the grey gravel at her feet. Taking off her leather bag, she opened it and brought forth the large bones of Belnun the last black dragon of Meer. Forcefully she threw the large bones into the deep waters of the lake, watching with wonder the splashes their contact made. When they had fallen to the depths of the lake, she picked up the large, golden egg and with her hands commanded it out before her, levitating in the sharp air. Her hands stretched outwards, she commanded the egg across the waters until it lay above the location of the bones. Casting her arms to the east and west, she lifted her eyes to the troubled skies above and cried out.

“Namh na buile! (Bone and blood!), Dortain na ushce (Fire and water!), Er duithe tha me’ardu span la luaith! (I command thee arise from the ashes!), Me’ardu na leamh la buile tu Nuyay! (Arise and claim the blood of Nuyay!), Bahthe na laol (Death and Life), Laol na bahthe (Life and Death), Thracht hi na ihadh der win (Come hither and spread your wings), Ban thut der shade ma caithe eh uda la thands bhun (So that your shadow may cast itself over the lands beneath),” Ethla felt the power soar through her hands as she cried out to the Gods. “Ban thut der shill tu bahthe ma ithe der prei (So that your eyes of death may consume your prey!), Ban thut der teung tu laol ma leamh or naime! (So that your tongue of fire may claim our enemies!),” The golden egg fell into the dark waters of the lake and a great current began to form. “Me’ardu! Belnun la faerl na lul der cean roimh der ter (Arise! Belnun the fearless and bow your head before your master), Ga tu a der dilsacht un obed! (Give to me your loyalty and obedience!).”

The currents within the lake raged, causing the small waves to enlarge, the cold water smashing through Ethla’s legs. The skies above darkened immediately and from the waters burst a great black dragon, its long body soaring into the great black clouds above, its cry so vast, so penetrating that Ethla was caught off guard. She watched on with ecstatic pleasure as the resurrected dragon unleashed his great black wings against the white rains, the water falling from his scales, causing great ripples in the lake. As it spun up through the clouds spouting orange fire it turned about and flew downwards towards Ethla. With a great thud and a terrible roar, Belnun stood within the waters, his great red eyes on her. Ethla felt the heat from his breathe but kept her place, her dark eyes steady and unyielding as he stepped forward, his almighty head so large that Ethla felt herself as small as the white flakes that fell from the sky. The black scales upon his body upon closer inspection were rimed with a vivid red, only illuminating his ferocity and highlighting his dark intent. They stood but feet apart, his great red eyes of fire upon her own black eyes.

“Dua yu summ? (Do you submit?),” she asked aloud, unafraid and still. Belnun let out a growl but loyally bent his head before her. Ethla took a few steps forward and placed her hand upon the hot scales of his forehead. “Er ne der ter, Ethla la blak wutch! (I am your master, Ethla the black witch!).” At her words Ethla walked around the dragons long head and with a great jump, flung herself onto the dragon’s long neck and steeped her hands into his great scales, holding onto him firmly. Belnun arose from the ground and raised his head into the air, letting out another great streak of red fire. “We hnamh forth Gaul un lan Summe! (We make for Gaul and then Summe!).” With a kick of her foot, Belnun swooped up into the air with such elegance that barely a leaf shuddered. The cold air biting at Ethla, she lowered her head as Belnun flew across the lands of Galgor, his great shadow covering the plains below and striking fear into all those who looked up into the sky. Ethla smiled and let out a high pitched laugh, the time for war had finally come, the time to kill the dragon King was upon the horizon and soon, very soon the Kingdom of Meer would fall into darkness and the great and terrible King Islaer would take throne. “Faer kall ful la art tu man! (Fear shall fill the hearts of men!)’.

Heidan

The highborn city of Caci was quiet, the men, women and children standing still upon the hard ground, their large eyes upon the great spectacle in the sky. Heidan stood silently on the steps of the great palace, flanked by his council, quiet and obtuse. She had finally arrived and so the war was about to begin and his wrath and ruin would not stretch beyond the realm of Calnuthe and reach the Kingdoms of Taer and Meer, for he would not rest until she was found and his plan for her complete. Death was too easy, too simple, his plan for his sister would be dark and disgusting, so disgusting that even his most loyal of servants would feel nauseated. As he watched on, his eyes, one black and the other gold erupted into light, it was his time to prove himself not only to his father but to the universe and his Heiden. He would crash his clenched fist to the ground so hard that the four corners of the universe would quake, so hard that the very throne in which Heiden sat would crack. He was coming, with an army so large that the guardians of Aurelius would tremble.

A smile upon his thin lips, Heidan watched as the red comet broke through the night sky and flew over his head. As he watched he noticed a creature slithering up the steps, a snake. He stood still, undisturbed as the snake slithered about his feet until with a gentle noise, the form of a tall man stood to his side.

“Father,” Heidan uttered, keeping his eyes upon the sky. Lagar stood a foot taller than his son, robed in a deep red gown.

“Now it begins,” Lagar hissed with pleasure. “She has not come alone.”

“What do you mean?” Heidan asked with urgency, turning his eyes up to his father’s pale face, so perfectly structured that he looked like a statue.

“You remember the prophecy?” Lagar replied darkly, his deep black eyes causing Heidan to shake a little within.

“No.”

“Cael returned with her,” Lagar said with a smile. Heidan tried to hide his dismay at his father’s words. “Find him and you shall have the greatest weapon of all, loose him and you will fail.”

“And what of Celestine?”

“Once you have Cael, she will soon follow, mark me,” Lagar said with contempt in his eyes. Heidan allowed himself the pleasure of a smile.

“I see.”

“Imagine what we can do with a weapon so precious…”

“He will lead us straight to Galean,” Heidan pondered aloud.

“No son,” Lagar stepped an inch closer to Heidan. “The King will follow his heart and soon they will both be standing at the foot of these steps and when they do…the throne is yours.”

Heidan looked up at his father, his eyes sparkling with ambition. With a snap of his fingers, Lord Cenric, the spy master came to him, bowing low before Heidan and Lagar.

“Have Frithred send a group of your best spies to the island of Summe, Celestine will be in the clutches of Lord Anvin and with her will be her husband, Cael,” Heidan said with dark eyes. “You are to obtain Cael and bring him here, alive. Do you understand?”

“Yes my Lord,” Lord Cenric replied with excitement his green eyes. With a wave of his hand, Heidan dismissed Lord Cenric and returned to his father.

“Soon father the throne of Calnuthe will be mine, and when Celestine is in my grasp, the throne of Aurelius will fall,” he said with a firmness that even the dark Lagar looked on with surprise. “I shall not fail you.”

“Keep your eyes on Islaer, he has bigger ambitions other than ruining Ruarr,” Lagar said, his head tilted slightly. “His gaze is now on Meer. He cannot take the throne of Meer.”

“I have my use for him and his ambitions,” Heidan replied coldly. “His diverted attention is to my advantage.”

“Don’t underestimate Islaer, he is clever and feeds off the shadows,” Lagar warned his son. “He has many servants and spies and will not likely let Ruarr fall into your hands.”

“Of that I am sure,” Heidan smiled. Lagar looked at his son for a moment.

“What of the heir?”

“He currently hides behind the walls of Ethe in the north,” Heidan said with a frown. “When the winter rains have ceased, I will send an army north and have him killed.”

“He and Celestine both have the right to enter the garden of Calhuni, you may think him young and weak, but he can easily slip under your gaze and claim the throne,” Lagar said with frustration. “You need to get rid of him soon, a rebellion is breaking out in Taer, rumours of Cathlen’s daughter are circulating and those loyal to the dead Queen are taking up arms and fighting back.”

“Elion will not last the winter, my men have his city under siege, soon they will be without supplies and will turn to the flesh of man to fill their rotting stomachs,” Heidan said with disgust. “When my army reaches Ethe, Elion will fall and the threat that he poses will diminish into dust.”

“You are very sure of yourself,” Lagar teased darkly as he walked about his son, his eyes intense and deep.

“Should I be anything less that sure?” Heidan asked arrogantly. “I took this kingdom with my own hands!”

“You may have killed your mother and Elieor, but remember it was you that let Celestine go,” Lagar hissed. Heidan held his father’s gaze for as long as possible before letting it fall to the ground. “Yes son, do not think yourself my equal, you grow too arrogant and arrogance leads to blindness. Killing men, women and children as sport will not win you the throne of Calnuthe or Aurelius’, remember that when you believe yourself to be sure. Now…” Lagar stepped away from Heidan. “I have to return to planet earth, for it is weak and vulnerable and I have a match to strike…it’s time to burn has come.”

“Father,” Heidan said simply as he bowed before Lagar.

“Do not let me down,” Lagar said with cold eyes. “You don’t want to feel my wrath.” Heidan watched as Lagar disappeared from sight, leaving him alone upon the steps once more. Turning he made his way back up the steps, refusing to meet the eyes of the men who stood with their eyes on him. He would prove his father wrong, he would succeed and he would prove his greatness.

Galean

He heard her cry and with one swift movement, flung himself up and out of his bed, to which he had been bedridden for two months. His mother’s jewel shone brightly and her cried whispered to him. His body was frail and weak, and as he struck his naked feet to the fur rug upon the ground, he felt his balance shake. Slowly he stood up, his hand upon the wooden frame of the bed. Looking down at his naked form he was met with a thin body, all hints of strength faded into his bones. As he stood quietly he could hear a commotion of voices outside in the corridor. Stumbling and swaying, Galean made for his cupboard and, his body still swaying he brought forth his riding clothes. Not only had her heard the cries of Eveline but he too had heard the cried of Aurora and Nuyay, and knew that something horrific had occurred in the dragon caves. The world had changed since his eyes were last open and he too had altered. Tracing his cold fingers over his lips, he smiled. She had found him and with one kiss awoken him from his never ending nightmare. He knew not if it had been a dream, her appearance, knew not if his mind was teasing him, but he was awake and he knew without hesitation that it had been Eveline who had awoken him and now she was in desperate need of him.

With all the strength that he could muster, Galean dressed himself, his ears in constant alert, and the commotion outside causing him to worry. What was going on? What had he missed whilst he had been asleep? Was the Kingdom still standing? Had Beon declared war on Meer? As he pondered the troubles of Meer, the door of his chamber opened wide and a guard burst in, his sword in his hand. Seeing Galean, he fell to the ground.

“You’re awake!” the young man said with shock.

“Your name?” Galean asked as he pulled his chainmail shirt down over his scar covered body.

“Gidon my Lord,” the guard replied as he brought himself to his feet and simply stared at Galean with gawking eyes.

“Why all the cries Gidon? What is happening outside?” Galean enquired as he slowly walked over towards his swords, picking up a long and short sword. Cautiously he placed them both in his sheaths and turned to the man, running his fingers through his newly washed hair. He stood and felt his eyes widen, his sword given to him by Gabriel was missing. He had thought her appearance a dream, but now as he looked at the missing spot of his sword he felt a smile cross his face.

“My lord the sky! It has erupted into colours!” the guard said quickly, his eyes still in disbelief. “A great light forks through the night sky, aimed towards the West.”

Galean turned at the man’s words.

“The stars have aligned already?” he asked quietly as he tightened his belt.

“Yes my lord, a great comet has thus passed the palace too! And the earth and skies shake my lord!” the guard said with fear in his blue eyes. “The Gods are angry!”

Galean walked across the chamber and stood before the young man.

“Were is my father and brother?”

“They are in the great hall my Lord,” Gidon replied with blinking eyes.

“I need you to deliver a message to them, can you do that?” he asked with confidence, his stomach churning with hunger.

“Yes my lord,” Gidon bowed.

“Firstly is my Lord Loaki and Lady Murtha safe?” Galean enquired with furrowed brows.

“My Lord, My Lady Murtha was murdered but four days past,” Gidon said with sad eyes.

“Murdered? By whom?” Galean said with anger in his voice. He had dearly loved Murtha and she was his bethrothed. What had happened to the court?

“My Lady Sebeen my Lord, she killed Lady Murtha during the royal blessing.”

“No that’s impossible, Sebeen would never do such a thing,” Galean said as he strode away from Gidon and lifted his right hand to his face. It couldn’t be? Sebeen was gentle and shy, why would she kill Murtha?

“They say jealousy my Lord,” Gidon replied quickly. “She was sentenced to death my lord, but had escapred the cells and is nowhere to be found.”

“Escaped? How?” Galean asked as he spun around, his head a little light headed.

“It is believed Lord Ada helped his sister to escape, having himself fled from the island,” Gidon said with disgust, the treacherous act dismantling the devotion he held towards the great Lord Ada. Galean knew Ada well, and knew that he was loyal to the crown, he would have indeed sacrificed his sister if she were guilty which made him think. Lord Ada would only ever risk death himself if he knew his sister to be innocent. There wasn’t time to simply assess the situation, he needed to find Nuyay and head West to Summe, Eveline would be there and awaiting his aid. He walked over to his writing table and sat down, taking out his quill and a sheet of parchment.

“I need you to give this to my father, can you do that?” he asked as he began to write with rapid speed.

“Yes my Lord,” Gidon replied.

Father,

I am awake, I know everything. Sebeen would never kill, not even if her life depended on it. There is precious time with which to write. I am bound west to the island of Summe. She has arrived and is in need of my help. Ready the army, man the borders and await my return. War is coming, not just from Galgor. Keep your friends safe, keep your eyes and ears open and do not underestimate the intentions of anyone within the court. Trust only Loaki and Anvin. I would urge you to restrain your anger against the Lord Ada, now is not the time in which to lose his alliance. Try to keep my location a secret. Stay strong for they are coming and swiftly they fly. If you feel unsafe I would council you to make for Tavan along with Loaki.

Galean.

Quickly Galean sealed the parchment and got to his feet. Lifting his cloak, he made for Gidon.

“Take this to the King,” he ordered as he wrapped his dark cloak about him, lifting the hood over his head. “Do not speak of my current state to anyone, on pain of death. Understand?” Gidon took the parchment and nodded. “Good, now leave.” Galean watched the guard leave the chamber and when ready, he exited the chamber, his identity concealed as he quickly made his way through the palace, by passing terrified guards and courtiers. He knew the real scientific reason for the lights, and so was unafraid of their meaning. He passed the doors of the great hall and stood a moment turning to face the throne in which he father sat. Gidon the guard placed the message in his hands. Ballour looked up and caught his gaze a moment. Fearful that he would recognise him, Galean turned abruptly and ran as fast as his weak legs would take him. Finally he freed himself of the palace and was now outside among the gardens. For the briefest of moments he looked up into the sky and was awe struck by the beauty of the lights. His eyes found the great stars of Ungilith, Maglorn and Zuenaye. They had indeed aligned and the light that poured forth from them was incredible. It was a light so pure and transparent that he felt himself touched by its innocence. A bump from a running guard awakened him and without another look, Galean made his way down through the gardens in the direction of the harbour which lay a league away. His legs burned with pain as he ran, but his mind was strong and awake. Running under the tall and ancient trees of Meerin Island, Galean lifted his head.

“Thracht Nuyay! Thracht Aurora! (Come Nuyay, Come Aurora),” he cried out aloud as he zig zagged through the trees. Soon he came to the hidden bridge and stopping, turned about grasping the wooden structure. “Thracht Nuyay! Thracht Aurora!” He looked into the great sky and stood a moment, the harbour was five minutes away. His chest pounding, his legs weak, he heard them. A great shrill of a cry coursed through the sky and with a great thrill of excitement, he saw the outlines of Nuyay the great dragon King and Aurora his mate. Turning he began to run once again, winding his way through the forest until he came to the harbour. Bending over his body, panting wildly, Galean heard his dragons as they swooped down low and met with him upon the harbour. Looking up, Galean caught Nuyay’s angered gaze.

“What is it my boy?” he cried out as he stumbled across the wooden harbour and wrapped his arms about Nuyay’s neck.  They were as he always remembered. Nuyay was as red as fire itself and Aurora as gold as Eveline’s eyes. Beside him Aurora cried pitifully, forcing Galean’s gaze to turn to her. “What has you upset?” he asked with renewed urgency. He looked deep into Aurora’s eyes and searched. Through the murky clouds of grief he saw the egg and stepped away from Nuyay, his face awash with pain. “What happened to your egg?” Nuyay, nudged him and so Galean looked deep into his own eye. From the clouds he saw a figure he recognised instantly. “Ethla?” he turned to Aurora who stretched her neck up high into the air and let out another great howl. “She took the egg?” Nuyay nudged Galean again and turned his own great head towards the West. The sun was beginning to pierce the blackened skies and in the near distance, a great cry similar to Nuyay’s rang out across the North. Galean stood back from Nuyay in shock. She wouldn’t have…she couldn’t have... behind him Aurora and Nuyay cried in response to the piercing cry that came from the Galgor. “She has resurrected Belnun,” he said quietly, his anger and hatred gathering at a rapid pace. Turning he looked to Aurora. “Go back to the mountains and warn the dragons, tell them to stay put until I return, do you understand?” Aurora nodded her golden head and with a great swoosh of her wings, took the skies above. Nuyay and Galean watched her fly North towards Dragna Mountains. When she had vanished into the darkness, Galean turned to Nuyay, seeing his reflection in the dragon’s eye. “Our business lies in the west, Belnun must not be allowed to live,” Galean said as Nuyay bent down low, allowing Galean access to his neck. With a quick jump, Galean sat atop Nuyay. Finding the hooks of Nuyay’s scales he lightly kicked the dragon and soon they were flying through the night sky. Galean kept his eyes on the horizon. “The witch must die!” he roared to the four winds, Nuyay following suite, his great cry so loud that the cold waters below shook.

Beon

The sun was rising in the West and Beon stood before a great crowd of Galgorian soldiers, who were now making their way on board the great ships of Gaul. The harbour was large and bordering it stood the citizens of Gaul city, waving away their sons, husbands and fathers. Beon wrapped the great grey fur about his tall frame and eyed the twenty ships with pride. To his side, the members of his council stood. The great palace of Gaul stood behind them and the city to their left.

“Where is she?” Beon hissed to Lord Bricius, commander of the Galgorian naval ships.

“My Lord did she not say that she would present for today’s events?” Lord Bricius replied smoothly, his grey hair dancing about in the winds.

“Ethla is never late,” Beon returned with a hiss. “She knows the consequences of a late arrival.” Lord Bricius held his tongue as most of the council members did when in conversation about the black witch. Beon knew his own men laughed and teased him behind his back, which he could handle but the thought of Ethla betraying him, he wouldn’t. If she did not arrive today then he would be lost, for her council meant everything to him, she understood his mind, understood his needs and wants and she was above all a great strategist, greater than the men who stood about him now. She understand the mind of a man, understand the intricate lacings of war and she understood him. She had his ear more so than any other Lord or Lady. As the men filled the great ships, Beon looked on with pride, his war against his father would be swift and hard. His fleets had doubled in number and strength, they were made in the image of the great Cacian ships of the south and their strength against the Meerin fleet was great. His borders were guarded by his men, a fleet of ships sailed along the Gaul River in the direction of Meerin Island and soon, very soon he would have the greatest prize of all, Celestine. With Celestine as his prisoner, Beon’s power would deepen and his hold over Meer would tighten. His father was frail, his eldest brother upon his deathbed and his youngest of no threat at all, and his inability to stand up for himself enough of sign of his strengths in war. If all were to go to plan, Ethla would return upon the great dragon of old, Belnun and with such a beast at his disposal soon the last dragons of the north would fall and the line of dragons end. Without his dragons, Galean’s threat was greatly reduced and Beon’s opportunity to gain the throne increased two fold. In the East a rebellion was brewing and despite his growing concerns of Lord Leer’s power, Beon had to focus on gaining the kingdom of Fiar and the high throne before being able to turn his attention to Dulthe. For the meantime, he could put aside the woes of Dulthe and simply concentrate on the schedule ahead. He was sending his fleet of new ships to the island of Summe, Lord Bricius would find the high priest and bring him back to Gaul whilst Ethla would find Celestine before returning to the city and turning her attention to Nuyay.

“My Lord the ships are ready to leave, I must now also make my leave,” Lord Bricius said from close by. Beon turned to the elder Lord, what he lacked in physical strength he made up for in intellect and strategy. The naval commander bowed before the King, kissing his right hand.

“Bring me my prize Bricius and you shall have your war,” Beon said coldly to the naval commander who stood up straight before him. “And be sure to leave behind the mark of Galgor!”

“My King, I shall bring both your prize and victory!” Lord Bricius announced regally as he turned about and made his way down the steps of the naval temple. Stopping before a great statue of the sea god, Mircious, Bricius kissed the feet of the sea God before making his way to his ship. Beon watched as the ships began to pull away from the harbour, a great cry of excitement rippling from the mouths of those who watched on. As he stood before the members of the council a great cry filled the cold air, silencing the mouths of the peasants and sending a thrill of anticipation through Beon’s body.

“My lord the sky!” someone cried out aloud. A great shadow swept over the harbour as the terrifying black dragon swooped down low.

“It’s Belnun my Lord!”

Beon raised his cool blue eyes to the sky and looked upon the great beast and smiled. She had returned and returned with her hands full. Upon the back of Belnun she sat, her long hair dancing behind her and swooped down low over the ships.

“Tu war! (To war!)” She cried out loudly, a great chasm of fire sprouting forth from the mouth of Belnun, causing the peasants of Gaul city to bend down in horror. From the ships, cries of war filled the air as Ethla led the ships across the Black Sea. Beon stood still and watched the dragon fly off into the distance, his cries still piercing the skies. Turning he looked into the faces of his council members.

“And so it begins!” he said loudly with his arms outstretched. “The age of my father is ended, the age of Galgor has begun!”

Celestine

She could hear his voice in her head, calling to her.

Eveline! Eveline!

She had felt as though she had been asleep for countless centuries as she began to rouse herself, her heavy eyelids opening slowly. A gentle light filled the room in which she lay, and as she moved her legs and body, her side sore, she noticed a sleeping figure in the corner. He looked older now than he had done twenty years ago. His hair was grey and his skin aged. He wore a heavy robe of navy velvet and had both arms folded under his chest, his snores coming loud and deep. Her body aching, Eveline sat up and rolled her shoulders back and forth. She looked down at her body and saw Galean’s jewel upon her chest, the ring of Taer looped beside it on the chain. She was gowned in a white dress that was embroidered with silver flowers. Quietly she turned her body about and let her bare feet fall to the stone ground below. She was weary and weak. Her hair now hung loosely about her shoulders, the tips touching her waist. Rubbing her eyes with her hands she yawned lightly and looked across at Anvin.

“You have aged wizard,” she said with a smile as she brought herself to her feet. Cautiously she walked over to the man and fell before him, taking his hands in her own. With a yank he opened his eyes and blinked down at her.

“You are awake?” he said with surprise, his green eyes bright and fresh.

“It seems an age since we first met,” Eveline said as she searched his face deeply.

“It has been an age my Lady,” Anvin smiled down at the young woman, his right hand coming to rest on her cheeks. “Are you sure you wish to awaken, a great and tiresome journey lies before you.”

“My legs are weary, but awake I must,” Eveline said with furrowed brows. “War is coming and I need to keep myself hidden from the enemy until Galean arrives.”

“Galean?” Anvin whispered as he caught a glimpse of the yellow jewel, his eyes lifting to her own. “That is the jewel of his mother…how?”

“In time I shall explain myself, but first you must bring me to Maethilda, there is something I wish to give her,” Eveline said with a smile as she stood up and held out her hand. Anvin took her hand and stood up tall before her.

“Are you ready?” he whispered darkly. “Once you open these doors you will never be able to close them over again.”

“I am ready friend,” Eveline said with a nod.

“Come then,” Anvin replied as he led her slowly across the small chamber and to the wooden door. With a strong hand, Anvin opened the door and guided Eveline across the threshold. They entered a great hall, circular in shape. Eveline let her eyes run over all that lay before her. A large round table stood in the middle of the round hall, beneath a great wooden chandelier with small horns upon the top. To the left of the large table was a great fire, were large fur rugs lay before it and a few men stood together talking. The roof of the round hall was made of mud and straw and the walls had beautiful round windows. To her left a great arched doorway stood and to her right a group of elder women sat together sowing. Guards stood quietly in front of the doors, their spears beside them dutifully.

“Were is this?” Eveline asked as she looked up into Anvin’s eyes.

“You are in the city of Summe my lady, and this is my palace of sorts, although not as grand as any other palace in the north,” Anvin said with a slight smile.  Eveline let the rustic smell of burning wood fill her senses as she looked about. At the fire she noticed a young man.

“He saved me at the beach!” she said with excitement, wanting to stride over to the man and thank him.

“That is Aabe, my son,” Anvin smiled as he led her across the hall, by passing the great table. Soon they stood before the fire. “Aabe someone wishes to speak with you,” Anvin announced grandly. Aabe turned from the other men and stood before Eveline and with such speed as shocked Eveline fell into a bow, the rest of the men following suite.

“My lady,” he said softly, turning his eyes up to Eveline. “You look much better.”

“I feel much better,” Eveline smiled in return. “You may rise Aabe son of Anvin, there is no need for formalities just yet, I am still unused to them.”

“My lady,” Aabe smiled in return. “We here in Summe aren’t much for formalities either, despite my father being the High Priest of the North.”

“For that I am glad,” Eveline returned shyly. “I believe I have you to thank for saving me on the beach.”

“It was not only I that saved you my Lady, my friends also helped,” Aabe said as he bite down on his lower lip.

“Yes I remember,” Eveline returned, her eyes observant of the way the other men looked at her. “My eyes,” she whispered aloud.

“Are beautiful,” Anvin interceded as he waved away the young men. “Aabe perhaps you can bring Eveline to meet your friends, she wishes to see Maethilda.”

“It would be my honour but…” he looked to his father with quizzical eyes. “What of the crowds?”

“Crowds?” Eveline returned, her smile fading quickly. “What crowds?”

“The people of Summe have been standing outside ardently praying for your wellbeing these last two days,” Anvin said with a sigh. “I know you would wish to hide from them, but if they see you are well then they will disperse and give you space.”

“And Maethilda, she is among the crowd?” Eveline enquired, her body suddenly feeling light.

“No she is in the astronomy tower and has been since her return,” Aabe said with a slight smile.

“I see,” Eveline murmured. She could feel the eyes of Anvin and his son upon her and drew in a deep breathe. “Well then shall we find Maethilda?”

“Your sure you wish to reveal yourself so quickly?” Aabe asked Eveline with concern in his eyes.

“Do I look bad?” she asked with a smile.

“No, you look…” Aabe flushed.

“You look beautiful,” Anvin added with a smile. Aabe held out his arm to Eveline who took it gladly. “Aabe please reassure Maethilda that she has not dishonoured the rest of the wider group of pickets by disengaging herself with the game.”

“I doubt she will listen to me father, she is stubborn to the core Maettie,” Aabe answered in return.

“Then maybe Celestine can council her?”

“I shall try my best,” Eveline returned, still a little uncertain of her birth name. Her arm looped through Aabe’s, she was guided through the large hall and stood, her heart beating wildly as the guards opened the great doors. A strong ray of light hit her body with such strength that she felt herself sway. Beside her she felt Aabe’s strength and focused on her breathing as her eyesight acclimatised to the light. Lifting her gaze, she saw a mammoth crowd standing before the steps of the palace, many of them holding up beacons of fire and calling out her name. As the morning sun bathed Eveline in a great light, she stepped forward and the cries turned to silence. Eveline blinked several times and felt Aabe’s presence behind her. Her long auburn hair swept behind her and the light material of her fine gown danced about her ankles gently. For the first time in her life, she saw in the faces of the ordinary people before her, the meaning in her presence, the hope in their eyes distilled any resolution that she had in herself. For so many months she had fought with the prophecy and herself, but in this moment she felt aligned to the hope that filled the eyes of the men, women and children before her. Not only did she feel akin to these people, but somehow she could feel her parents standing beside her, their love and kindness wrapping her in a deep blanket of warmth. She had lost so much in returning to her home, her friends, her comfort and her husband. Standing in the sunlight, she felt a tear fall from her eye at the memory of Theodore.

Letting her hands relax she curled her lips and looked at the faces before her. Amid the crowd, she saw a familiar face and recognised Maethilda as she waded her way through the crowd, headed in her direction. Gently, Eveline lifted her hands and unclasped the necklace from her throat and cautiously she took the signet ring from the chain. Fixing the chain once again she took a step towards the crowd, her eyes on Maethilda. She looked weary and lost as she stood away from the crowd, her sea green eyes on her. Eveline held out her free hand and bid the young woman to come to her. Her heavy brows furrowed, Maethilda climbed the stone steps until she stood before Eveline.

“I have something for you, Maethilda daughter of Cathlen, Queen of Taer,” she said softly. “May I have your right hand please?”

“My hand?” Maethilda returned, lifting her hand up before Eveline.

“Your mother gave this to me and bid me to give it to you,” Eveline said kindly as she took the signet ring and rolled it across Maethilda’s index finger. “She told me to tell you that you were loved and that she regretted not one moment you both shared together and that if she were to do it all again, she would without hesitation.” Eveline saw the tears fall from Maethilda’s eyes as she looked at her mother’s ring.

“She loved me?” she whispered so quietly that only Eveline could hear.

“She loved you fiercely,” Eveline said as she bent her head and kissed Maethilda’s forehead. Maethilda wrapped her arms about Eveline and together they embraced, two orphans divided by time and distance, now together as one. Stepping back from Eveline, Maethilda smiled widely and fell before Eveline, kissing her bare feet.

“I vow to thee, my undying loyalty and honour,” Maethilda said aloud so the crowd behind her could hear. “From this day onwards and until my dying day, Celestine, daughter of Unyae and Elieor, High Queen and King of Calnuthe.” Eveline dropped a hand atop Maethilda’s head and watched as the crowd fell to the ground also and pledged their oaths to Celestine.

“I vow to you my undying loyalty and honour,” Eveline returned. “From this day onwards until my dying day, Maethilda, daughter of Cathlen, Queen of Taer.” With a smile, Maethilda lifted herself from the ground and smiled broadly, seeing the faces of Anvin, Aabe and Evalean, Sabia, Innis and Marina standing atop the steps.

“Shall we return to the hall and eat?” Maethilda asked as she stepped up and turned to Eveline. “I’m starving.”

“Me too,” Eveline smiled as she looped her arm through Maethilda’s and turned to face the palace of Summe. “God knows we will need to fill our stomachs before the next stage in our journey.” As they came to the top of the steps, Eveline turned to Maethilda with wide eyes. “My husband?”

“His body is being washed by the priests,” Maethilda returned softly. “He will be ready for burial in the morning.” Eveline merely nodded her head. “May I introduce you to my pickets?”