OCTT : A TALE OF TWO QUEENS - CHAPTER THREE (COPYRIGHTED CONTENT)

Chapter Three

Aabe

The full moon swamped its silvery light over the sleeping trees of Summe forest and with its teasing glow, dispersed memory forged upon a forgotten peace once held over the lands of the north, reminding Aabe of a time in which the young played beneath the starry skies and the old sat around great fires, singing the old songs of Duana and merry-making, their hearts steadfast and their minds without trouble. Long had it been since Aabe’s gaze fell among such happy and spirited times, and long would it be before the island of Summe would find such peace. The world was changing, its fearful heart stirring even the wings of the newly sprung birds, who, instead of dancing upon the northerly winds, kept to their branches in order to seek shelter from the on-coming shadow that swept over the once radiant and plentiful lakes, wistful rivers, white beaches which sparkled with the dust of the moon, gentle rolling hills which once housed the first humans, sacred forests, ancient ancestral monuments and fields of corn, wheat and rice, now all but bare from the yearly famine. In its stead, poverty, clan tension and whispers of growing unrest struck the island like a plague, its wings of corruption spreading wide over the land, holding even the secretive of people to account. Such was the changing of time that the great seerer’s of Nor and Summe were without the power to delve into the future to alert the high priest. They had become blind, the arrows of the on-coming dark power numbing their senses and corrupting their magic.

His mind heavy, Aabe guided his gentle stallion through the suspicious trees, the newly changed hooves coming to a stop before the rushing river of Summe. Keeping himself upon the saddle, his head covered by the hood of his green cloak, Aabe caught sight of the familiar figure of Evalean. She sat quietly upon a log, her body hidden from sight beneath a cloak of silver. To her right sat a lantern and to her left a large jar of moon-moths, their small bodies alight with the rays of silvery moonlight. Close to her, a dozen birds of varying size and shape stood watching over the ethereal Evalean, who had been blessed with the rare magic of the nayan people, who once dwelled among the forests of Taer and Calnuthe. The Nayan’s had a rare and beautiful ability to tap into the minds of animals and were greatly loved by all whose loyalty fell before the feet of mother nature. Evalean’s ability had been a secret between herself and Aabe, a secret which had been forbidden to leave their lips, for fear that she would be hunted and used by the enemy, for not only were her skills so rare, but she possessed the rarest of prizes among humankind, that of two hearts, each baring the mark of a different beat. She was the rarest of jewels, and her light was the greatest secret of them all. Aabe knew the risk he took in bringing Evalean along on the journey ahead, and understood the threat posed to everyone if her secret were uncovered. It struck the young wizard as odd, that her brother, close in age shared not the same gift and was but human, perhaps the magic chose its host, even if the idea was a little hard to swallow. The rare magic brought with it the element of surprise, for her deceased parents had been but poor peasants who had succumbed to the disease of poverty, leaving their children orphaned and on the often-violent streets. Had it been fate that his father, once travelling upon the Queens road to the royal city of Merelle, came across the two impoverished siblings? Or had it been simply the winds of coincidence?

His eyes upon the solemn figure of Evalean, Aabe swung his legs over his stallion and felt his booted feet fall upon the sandy beach, the hem of his cloak dancing about his ankles. How different were the two siblings, now separated by war and destiny. Here before him sat the quiet, the patient and the beautiful Evalean whose body fell ill when touched by darkness. She was unalike her brother, who grew strong, proud and greedy for revenge, position and authority. Aabe understood Morad’s plight in life and thus such understanding produced conscious ignorance of his newly deprived behaviour. He was not evil, he was not only spurred on by dark deeds, he was merely misunderstood and suffered from a case of miss-identity, which was not unusual in a man of his young years. And so, despite the whisperings of betrayal, Aabe and his father had placed loyalty and friendship at the feet of Morad, in hope that he would repay such reverent loyalty with stout allegiance and fealty to Summe. Lifting back his hood and revealing himself, Aabe slowing made his way towards the unmoving Evalean.

“You should be resting.”

Aabe came to stand before the solemn Evalean, who raised her beautiful eyes to his face, her thick brows lifting in surprise.

“Aabe what are you doing here?” Evalean announced with an anxious smile as she lifted herself up from the log and came to stand before Aabe. Looking down into her delicate and pixy like face, Aabe felt himself moved by her naive innocence. She wore a dress of silver velva beneath her cloak, simply cut and without detail, but for the silver belt about her small waist. Upon her head, she wore a small crown of silver leaves, bestowed upon her during her coming of age ceremony, two moons ago. She was the fairest in the land, an opinion not only held by Aabe but by many who laid theirs eyes upon Evalean. She was unlike Maethilda, whose taerian beauty beheld the strength and courage of her mother. Evalean’s strength, courage and stout heart remedied themselves in her constant acts of kindness, mild display of shyness and unreserved love for even the darkest of hearts. She bore a similar likeness to those of Nayan descendant and often reminded Aabe of the soft furelli flowers which grew beneath the beautiful daish trees throughout the high seasons. She was a rare jewel, a jewel with such a divine glow that her light transfixed his troubled soul and often left him yearning for more of her gentle presence. Aabe had noticed of course, the affect her beauty- both physically and spiritually had upon those who found themselves in her presence. She often left her friends and those looking on, somewhat drunk and without balance. It was said among historians of the south that the Nayan people had the power to bring together enemies, their powers of love, peace and temperance having considerable affect upon those under their gaze.

“I have always been at your side when releasing the moon-moths into the night sky, have I not?”

“Indeed,” Evalean returned with a burst of crimson upon her ivory cheeks. “Forgive me Aabe, I had completely forgotten.”

“There is nothing to forgive,” Aabe answered bluntly, his gaze spotting the buds of tears which threatened to cast their sorrow upon his loves cheeks. “If cannot blame you for lost thoughts, as I find myself suffering from the same illness.”

“You do?” Evalean asked sweetly, her wide eyes drawing him in warmly. Aabe, often distant towards others and rightly presumed rigid, found himself in the familiar position of melting. No one else could claim such a power of him, for to be a wizard and to have a sight far deeper and wider than those around you, brought with it a terrible burden and pain, a pain no-one but his father understood. And yet, the young, naive yet strong woman before him had the power to soothe his aches and pains and to soften his judgement on others.

“Our dear friend perished this night, before our very eyes,” Aabe returned quietly, the tips of his long fingers finding her own, a custom often sought for in times of anxiety or need. “To burn her under the fading stars will leave a terrible mark upon those who loved her. She was fierce, strong and courageous, especially in the face of tribulation, much of which she was forced to endure, in a world where the will of women is so often set aside. To burn her so young before the buds of the coming year, is both grievous and bitter. She had such grand ideas and notions, especially directed towards the area of peace and prosperity. She was a bright star amid a gloom-ridden sky. Her loyalty and devotion shall not be easily forgotten.”

“How I envied her,” Evalean whispered, her words laced with foreboding and sorrow. With a soft sob, the young picket turned from her friend and lover and walked towards the shores of the river, her bare feet touching the icy waters which had flowed down from the Meerin Hills. Aabe stood still, his eyes unable to stray from his friend, her silver hood falling away from her head to reveal her short locks of dark hair. “She was fire and I…I am but the soft breeze upon a suma’s day. In the face of uncertainty, she stood tall, like a formidable Barrin tree, but I?” Evalean turned her tear stained eyes to Aabe. “I am governed by an instinct which tells me to flee in the face of uncertainty and war.”

“That isn’t true Evalean,” Aabe muttered against a harsh gust of wind which swept over the dithering trees, their branches all but bare. Her tresses gleaming against the moonlight, Evalean shook her head with feeling.

“It is Aabe,” she said with disgust. “I am surrounded by great women, who fear little and share much in common with one another. I have nothing in common with them, nothing but my sex and drive for justice. I…I shared more with your sister. I…I” she stopped a moment, pressing a hand to her bosom with pain. Aabe watched her moon-lit face, the few lines which dwelled upon her soft features, creasing with frustration. “I am frightened of letting them down. I am frightened of dying without honour.”

“Strength reveals itself in various forms Evalean,” Aabe said with molten fire surging through his cold body. With two strides, he came to stand before her, his boots submerged within the murky waters. Taking her cold hands within his own, he summoned her gaze to meet with his and bequeathed upon her a soft smile, ridden with unspoken feeling. “Who else can summon the birds to them or understand their morning song? You believe that to be kind, soft and without a need for violence weakness?”

“No…to speak with the birds, to play with the squirrels, gives my heart much pleasure,” Evalean exclaimed through her tears. “But I am afraid of battle, I am afraid of the pain that I know stands perilously close to me. I wish to live among the woods where I am useful, where I am understood. I do not wish to live among the plains of blood and death. I am quiet, reserved and deftly named the tame. The gentle world into which your father brought me is now distant and without breath. And my brother…his heart grows cold and distant with every clash of his sword. How can I be of use to anyone when I do not feel I have any use for myself?”

“You are overwhelmed Evalean” Aabe said with kindness marked in his eyes. He held her hands gently within his own and observed her conflicted mind with sorrow. “Do not mistake such a feeling for a belief that you are of no use to your friends, you are of greater use to those around you than you deem, and that my love is the greatest gift of all.”

“To have but two hearts yet no strength of conviction or magic with which to aid the war and Queen?”

Aabe’s brows aligned themselves as her words fell from her red lips, her eyelids closing over her distraught gaze.

“To love is not a weakness Evalean, it is the greatest of weapons so easily cast aside in war,” Aabe said with sombre realisation. “Many a man begins such a journey with devout hope in love and peace, and all too often falls into the pit of war and despair, his heart hardened by the blade and darkened by the wound. How rare is it to have not one but two hearts of pure love, how great is the weapon you bare. For when all fades with the setting sun of tomorrow, it will not be the blood of man that seeps into the fields of battle, but it shall be the ever-flowing love which casts its power over death.”

“You truly believe that love can conquer death?” Evalean asked with ardent eyes. The current about their feet strengthened as they drew close to one another, their hidden feelings revealed beneath the suspicious moon.

“It is the greatest of powers and shall be needed in the coming months,” Aabe answered plainly, drawing a hand to her cheek and skimming her cool skin lightly with the back of his palm. “You are the fairest of maids, but such purity shall feel the hand of darkness deeply, like a jagged blade cutting deep into the light. That will be your test Evalean, a test I doubt many others around you could face and conquer.”

“And if I fail?” Evalean whispered as she tipped her face upwards, the end of her nose meeting his own.

“You shall not fail,” Aabe said with feeling as he cupped her face and drowned his eyes in her beauty.

“You must save him Aabe,” Evalean exclaimed darkly as she splayed a hand over his beating heart, her eyes pleading. “You must save Morad from the fate I fear will take him.  I know he seeks power and I know that he will go to any lengths to obtain it, even if his motives are fed by a need to save and protect the kingdom. He has always been governed by his heart and tormented by his head. A war as deadly as this, only seeks to bring the worms to the surface. But worms become prey to the birds which swoop down to devour their prey.”

“I cannot bend fate Evalean, no matter its wicked intentions,” Aabe said, with a gaze tainted by reality and marred by destiny. “But I shall do my best to protect him and counsel him in times of trouble.”

“That is all that I ask,” Evalean whispered, her words fading away as their lips met. Aabe felt her power sweep over him like a warm flow of water and held her protectively within his arms. When finally, they drew away from one another, Evalean brought her head to his chest and drew in a sigh. “We should return before the sun rises and your father suspects.”

“We must release the moon-moths first,” Aabe said with a flush of his cheeks. Her eyes upon the ground below in embarrassment, Evalean turned away from Aabe and picked up the large jar of moon-moths, each of them baring a unique colour and design upon their wings. Opening the lid with a swipe of his hand, Evalean lifted the glass jar into the open air before them and watched on with a mixture of sorrow and joy as the beautiful moths fluttered out into the open night, their colourful wings spreading wide and soaring into the darkness above.

“I am afraid we shall never see them again,” Evalean whispered in pain, her eyes stained with water. “All that is pure and true now flees from our land, the hand of darkness sending them from their beloved homes.”

“A time will come again when the moon-moths will return,” Aabe returned with certainty. “And all shall return to its natural self.”

“I am afraid I shall not live to see such times,” Evalean said with a grievous expression upon her ethereal face. Aabe found her hand and took it lightly within his own. Turning his gaze down to her own, he held her stare a moment, digesting the sombre feelings and future fears with bitter pain.

“I promise you shall.”

*

Aabe stood before the ancient door of Nebla, which was located upon the top floor of the astronomy tower, within the room of stars. The sun had not yet risen and he had but just arrived back from the forest, his brief meeting with Evalean restoring his spirits and easing his aching shoulders from their ever-burning burdens. His cloak covering his tall frame, Aabe eyed the door with suspicion. It was as ancient as the world itself and had a mind of its own, only admitting those it deemed suitable, which included himself and his father and no other. It was said in the tales of old that only four such doors existed upon Unas, each of them stationed at particular points across the world. His eyelids twitching with exhaustion, Aabe ran his gaze over the engraved image of a tree which stretched itself across the wooden door, the roots reaching the bottom corners and the branches the top corners. Hidden within the leaves were stars of varying sizes and within the roots a sword lay hidden, the hilt engraved with the letter ‘C’. For many years Aabe had pondered over the engraved door and wondered if magic lay within the wood. Magic, he knew always came at a price and it seemed that with every entry, the guest returned somewhat altered in both temperament and power. This he knew intimately, for the times in which he had passed through the door, he returned somewhat changed. The power of the door caused an oppression not just on his abilities but the unspoken power cut through his emotions, leaving him less empathetic towards those he loved. His heart was turning to stone and so as he stood before Nebla, he tried to pacify his racing heart and troubled mind. He understood that to pass through the door one more time was empirically important, not just for himself but for his guest, Celestine. What, he thought would the door ask of the grand-daughter to the Heiden? Would she return altered? Would they return at all?

“She must pass through the door my son, no matter the cost,” came the understanding voice of Anvin, who entered the astronomy room quietly.

“She already weakens, to ask this of her is madness,” Aabe returned, his feet staying rooted before the teasing door. He felt his father’s powerful presence behind him and bit down upon his lower lip.

“She must meet him, before it is too late,” Anvin explained, the sweeping of his gown sending shivers up Aabe’s back. Turning about slightly, he spotted his father standing upon the altar before the magical book known as the Book of Days, an ancient article of a magic so old that no-one yet had the power in which to unlock it. Catching his sons gaze, Anvin picked up the book and held its heavy contents within his hands, his eyes dark and laced with secrecy. “Ethla comes seeking more than just Celestine, she comes looking for this book. We must take it with us and place into her hands, she will keep it safe until the time is ready.”

“She cannot be trusted father,” Aabe stressed with pointed eyes. “She has no face.”

“Exactly,” Anvin returned with a mysterious look. He strode over to Aabe and looked down into his sons troubled face. “She won’t know of its existence if my plan works. There are some pro’s to not having a face.”

“Relatively few I think you would agree? The woman scares even the most courageous of men,” Aabe returned with furrowed brows. “To even stand in her presence makes me feel vulnerable.”

“She has her use child, fear of her makes her the perfect guardian,” Anvin said with confidence as he stepped aside and looked over the door, the golden book held close to his chest. “She is Celestine’s aunt and her son is an honourable man, she will take precedence over her only child when the time comes.”

“She was exiled by Elieor for planning to overthrow his Kingdom,” Aabe argued hotly. “Without your interference who knows what would have happened to Calnuthe. She is trouble and you my dear father are too curious by half to leave her be.”

“She is a conundrum my dear fellow, one of which I am yet to understand,” Anvin returned with wisdom. Placing a kind hand upon his son’s shoulder, he smiled kindly. “I believe she plays a part in the future of Calnuthe, whether it is a part worthy of honour remains to be seen.”

“What part can she play? What part can he play?”

Anvin stood back, hearing the footsteps of Celestine outside and furrowed his brows.

“Have you not learned the ways and patterns of mankind Aabe? Have you not realised that we are not all positioned at opposite sides of the spectrum? That hope lingers with the many and not the few?” Anvin chided darkly. “Lady Moruaina lingers in the in-between.”

“She is unpredictable, and in the present circumstances the unpredictable are a risk,” Aabe pushed with feeling as the door of the room opened wide, heralding forth a sombre looking Celestine.

“Risk or no risk Aabe, we must seek her shelter for a while,” Anvin whispered with fraught frustration as he turned about to welcome Celestine. “My dear, what a day it has been! And lo you must be weary and tired.”

“It is three in the morning my Lord,” Celestine returned as she drew away her hood and revealed her pale face, her blazing eyes casting a light over the wizard. To Aabe’s weary eyes, she too looked distant and at conflict with herself, and as was rightly so, confused by Anvin’s invitation to the tower. “Is this the astronomy tower in which Maethilda speaks so highly?”

“Indeed, it is,” Anvin returned as he stepped away from the curious lady, whose gaze roamed the great room, her eyes widening with curiosity and splendour.

“It is beautiful my Lord,” Celestine whispered with wonder as she began to pace about the room, running the tips of her fingers over the dozen or so books of old. Anvin and Aabe watched her for several minutes, and drew in a breath as she came to stand before the door, her wondrous gaze falling dark. “This door, I have seen and felt its like before.”

“I believe you have my Lady,” Aabe said quickly as he darted forward, his eyes on her. She was tall and her un-earthly beauty never seemed to withhold its magnificence. She was a sight to behold and further still, her presence struck him like a beam of hot light, searing through his soul and mind. She both amazed and frightened him, such was her power. He was however pacified by her naive awareness of her own strength and power and such a feeling soothed his troublesome thoughts. When exploring the depths and hidden corners of the young Celestine, he knew just as his father did, that she was as unpredictable as the faceless Lady Moruaina. His father was right, mankind was not easy to read, nor subtle enough to mould. The young queen was yet to face the mirrored reflection of herself and worst of all, not yet enlightened as to the reality of her origins. “You have passed through the door of Ecnes have you not?”

“Indeed, my lord,” Celestine returned with a slight smile, her furrowed brows unable to hide her inner thoughts. “Without the door, I would not have first beheld your father.”

“And did you feel changed when returning through the door my Lady?” Anvin enquired with curiosity, both wizards now standing before the confused lady.

“No, my lord, why do you ask?”

“This is Nebla, the door of the East,” Anvin proclaimed grandly as he turned to the gleaming door, the golden book within his arm. “It acts as a vessel in which only those possessed of magic can access. It can transport its guest through time, to a place in which they seek. But behold, such magic must abide by several rules. Though a guest may walk through time without harm, they must return through the door before the setting of the sun or they will remain forever fixed to that other place.”

“I did not know that,” Celestine said under her breath as she took a step closer to the door, her right hand raised and splayed, a sudden light filling her golden eyes. Her long auburn hair elegantly swept behind her shoulders, she reached out and touched the door, her hand moulding itself to the centre of the tree. All at once a great beam of light radiated from the tree, its light piercing through all that stood before the door. Aabe, felt himself thrown from the door and cast upon the cold ground below as the light seeped straight through him. Shielding his eyes with a hand, he watched as the roots of the engraved tree stretched out before a powerful Celestine, her long tresses of auburn hair dancing about her tall frame. The door had never before reacted to the touch of a guest in such an over-powering gesture and for the merest of seconds, Aabe looked upon the image of Celestine, not as she was in his mind- but a fair woman of great heritage, but of a great goddess, whose powers and strength commanded the sight of every human eye, such was its greatness and terror. He was bearing witness to her future self, the woman who would one day claim power over all things, even death.

With a tremor, the light suddenly faded inwardly into the engraved tree and sword once more and the astronomy room once again swamped by the darkness of the night, the flickering of several candles but casting their thin light across the occupants. Behind him, Anvin took to his feet and swept past Aabe. A silent Celestine fell onto the ground with a grunt as Anvin came to stand before the door, which now opened with a creak.

“What was that?” Aabe whispered in fear as he brought himself to his feet and came to Celestine’s aid, his confused eyes upon her.

“I don’t know,” Anvin returned, his dark words echoing throughout the room. Aabe held out a hand to Celestine and drew her up onto her feet.

“Are you alright my Lady?”

“I saw someone,” Celestine said with uncertainty as she swayed upon her feet in disorientation. Her hands clinging to Aabe’s arms, she lifted her gaze to meet with his own. “Someone with a dark heart has taken command of a door, and means to abuse its powers.”

“How can that be father? Only those of white magic can summon the door?” Aabe said quickly as he turned to his uncommonly quiet father, whose large hands were splayed across the opened door.

“I do not know,” Anvin said with feeling as he turned his gaze to the frightened Celestine. “Someone knew that you would be visiting the door this night. Whoever they are, they knew that to gain access to the door they would need to infiltrate your own power. I am afraid that after this day, no one may use the door of Nebla ever again, for fear that once open, a terrible shadow will return through the door.”

“What if the other doors are opened?” Aabe asked quickly as he guided Celestine over to Anvin. “How do we keep this door closed? Shall we burn it?”

“I have no power of the other doors,” Anvin said with a distinct look of sombre frustration. “As to destroying the door of Nebla by fire, it cannot be done my son, the wood of the ancient tree Hir cannot be destroyed by fire.”

“Then what is to be done?” Celestine asked as she drew her hands away from Aabe and turned to Anvin with furrowed brows.

“I must take the door to a place in which it cannot be found,” Anvin said darkly. “The time has come for the guardians of the great objects to practice vigilance. That is why we must enter the door one last time.”

“But father, the intruder, whoever they are, they have touched Celestine and felt her power,” Aabe said hurriedly as Anvin opened the door wide with a wave of his hand. Behind them, Celestine stood in silent anxiety, her hands trembling and her lips quivering. “Is it possible that they have infiltrated her mind or worse, fed of her power?”

Anvin looked down into the face of the troubled Aabe before turning his gaze to the silent Celestine.

“Only time will tell Aabe,” Anvin replied solemnly, his star-filled eyes stuck to Celestine. “Your return will have summoned a great many shadows my lady, not just here upon the island of Summe, nor in the Northern and Southern Kingdoms, but to the far corners of this planet. You have much to learn and the clock is ticking. You must guard your magic and seal your mind to those who would infiltrate both.”

“I must trust no-one?” Celestine returned with a defiant gaze. Anvin walked over to Celestine and took her hands with haste.

“You must trust no-one my lady, especially those who stand close to you,” Anvin said darkly, locks of his dark hair falling across his face. “That is the price you must pay, for a life you did not willingly choose. It is the price we, who bare such power and magic must pay to protect the vulnerable.”

“And you my Lord, can I trust you?” Celestine returned, her words so low that Aabe couldn’t catch heed of them. He watched his father and the young Queen stand close to one another, the air about them tight and rigid.

“Our fates are entwined my Lady,” Anvin whispered slowly, his breath washing over her cold face. “My allegiance was always with your parents and shall forevermore be with you, until my dying breath. There is much of which we must teach each other, if the light is to overcome the darkness.”

“Then you must aid me my Lord, for though I possess much power, I am still but a meek student who is need of guidance and training,” Celestine said with a straight back.

“You have my word, my Lady,” Anvin returned with a loyal bow of his head. “I shall endeavour to teach you the ways of magic and to guard you with my life.”

“Then we must be on our way Anvin,” Celestine returned with an air of subtle kinship. Aabe watched as her blazing eyes of gold faded into confusion. “Where are we going?”

Anvin guided Celestine to the door and looked across at Aabe.

“To the last free city of the south, Ethe,” Anvin announced regally. “To meet with the faceless lady, Lady Moruaina.”

“Who is she?” Celestine asked with curious eyes.

“She is your aunt,” Aabe answered plainly. “Sister to your late father and mother to your cousin, Lord Elion.”

“I have an aunt and cousin?” Celestine whispered with wonder, her sullen eyes suddenly alit with hope.

“Indeed, my Lady,” Anvin returned kindly. “And we must meet with them for counsel.”

“Are they in danger my Lord?” Celestine quizzed with a fraught look, her hopeful gaze diminishing with Anvin’s words. The darkened room suddenly filled with a faint light, heralding the morning sun. Anvin looked to Aabe.

“Come we have little time left before the sun rises fully,” Anvin said with haste as he tucked the golden Book of Days beneath his arm. “There is much to do.”

Aabe held out his arm to Celestine, a kindly smile upon his wavering lips.

“Take my arm Celestine, and hold on tight,” he commanded kindly. The rays of the rising sun spilled into the room, casting their golden light upon the great astronomical instruments which filled the room with curiosity and wonder. Aabe turned his gaze upon the great telescope which stood upon the alter, its glass eye directed to the sky above. Feeling Celestine’s arm weave through his own, he turned to her and smiled anxiously. “Celestine, before we pass through the door, I must warn you to keep your distance from your aunt.”

“Why my Lord?”

“She is feared among the very powers of darkness, such is her own power,” Aabe said with a wisp of a sigh. Sensing her confusion, he placed a hand over her own. “In time, you shall understand.”

“And my cousin?”

“He is an honourable man, who has garnered great admiration from among the remaining Calnthian army,” Anvin interceded with flashing eyes. “He is loyal to your house and has proved himself worthy of your allegiance.”

“But my aunt is not?”

“She does not take sides my lady,” Anvin returned darkly. Aabe felt the pull of the magic and found his feet idly pushing him onwards towards the unknown.

“Stay by my side,” Aabe whispered to Celestine with grave severity. “Do not stray under any circumstances, for the door’s mind is its own and the rules must be obeyed.” With his words of warning, Aabe guided Celestine into the white light, closely followed by Anvin.

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