OCTT : A TALE OF TWO QUEENS - SUMME - DRAFT : CHAPTER SIX (DRAFT)
Chapter Six
Celestine
An unspeakable force electrified Celestine, as though
the heart of heavens anger had struck her whole, leaving her breathless upon
the moist, marshlands unto which she had been transported. Time and its endless
lines of directions, had it seemed not made her welcome, despite time itself
flowing through her spirit and soul, the last true heir to life itself. Her
journey from a naive young woman shunned by society into the heir apparent of
the universe had not been kind, and though her feet moved onwards, her quest
for self determination had halted. Celestine had been ambushed by a power she
still had not come to terms with, and felt that with every minute slipping into
the beyond, she was falling into a perilous black hole, from which she knew not
who would arise. Grappling with the moist grass, her lower body beneath a murky
water, glistening beneath the light of the slippery moon, Celestine lifted her
eyes from the long reeds which blew quietly against a northerly wind. Crawling
out of the large pool, its bed covered in bones, Celestine brought herself to
her feet, noticing the silent figures of Anvin and Aabe, who stood a little way
off, their pale faces sombre and still. Her long tresses drenched, and her
leather pants firmly glued to her long legs, Celestine carefully wound her way
through the perilous marshes, coming to a halt beside her protectors. She gazed
into the distance, the silhouette of the Calnuthe Mountains glinting in
despair. Around them, the marshlands seemed to go on forever, until they met
with a dark and imposing forest.
“Where is the city?” she whispered hauntingly, her
golden eyes turning to Anvin.
“I forget you are a new student, uneducated in this
new and dauting world to which you have been cast,” Anvin returned quietly, his
own sparkling eyes meeting with her. “If you look closely, you shall find the
last free city of the south, hidden beneath shadow.”
“The stars of the night fade under its gaze,” Aabe
went on, his words shrouded with mystery. Her boots heavy and uncomfortable and
her head aching with exhaustion, Celestine squinted her eyes and searched the
wide and foreboding area before her. Her cold hands loosely hanging in the
dense air, filled with the sullen smells of the marshlands, Celestine’s eyes
came to a halt. About a league north, a shadow, deeper than that of the night
sky came into sight. Her eyes rising from the foot of the shadow, Celestine
noticed the shapes of great towers and buildings, all of whom lay behind a
great wall, some two leagues in length.
“It was once the jewel of the south,” Anvin murmured,
the Book of Days clasped at his chest, his silvery hair blowing softly.
“What happened that it should lose its gleam?”
Celestine enquired as they began to walk onwards.
“It fell into unforgiving hands,” Anvin returned
darkly, his long legs at war with the hardy reeds which refused to give way to
the guests.
“What do you mean?”
Celestine felt the star shaped jewel about her warm
slightly, sending a burst of heated energy through her cold body. She observed
the silent glare between father and son, and wondered at their unspoken words.
“Even the most innocent of gestures can turn sour,”
Anvin explained, the moist land turning hard as they crept upon the great city
of shadow. Celestine thought it wise to stop enquiring, sensing the subject to
be out of bounds. Diligently she followed the great wizard and his unusually
sullen son, amazed at the sheer size of Ethe, city of shadow.
“Why is it called the city of shadow?”
“Before the first age of man, when the children of
Aurelius fell upon the land of Calnuthe, a great angel, his name Gathalian,
built a city to protect the vulnerable,” Anvin explained as he helped Celestine
cross a slippery pathway between the reeds. “He searched the land for a rare
mineral called Blathan, black rock which lies upon the edge of the great lake.
Mining the rock, he and his men built the city of Ethe. At night when the enemy
would strike the kingly guardians, the city, under cover of shadow would
protect the young, elderly and feeble. It was the stroke of genius, and has
served as a pillar of defence ever since.”
“Only by day can the enemy attack the city, by night
they are as blind as the yellow bat,” Aabe interrupted with a keen smile. “It
is said that the great angel’s bones lie beneath the cathedral of Numansdei.”
“I have heard that name before,” Celestine mused as
they quickened their pace, aware that they were unsafe out in the open, with
prying eyes almost certainly upon them.
“It was the birthplace of your father, and of his
father” Anvin answered sharply, his feet coming to a halt. Celestine felt her
heart jump at the mention of her family, her chapped lips turning up into a
small smile of pride. Standing between the two tall men, she looked upon the
great city before her, the southern gate as tall as the withen tree. Moulded
into the deep gates of shadow stood two great men, one baring wings and the
other a man of mortal blood, wearing a crown upon his head. Stepping forwards,
Celestine came before the statues, their encrusted eyes following her. The air
was foul and upon the wings of the mellow wind, she could almost hear the
hissing of her enemies as she stood, but a mere woman beneath what she believed
to be a relic of Gathalian and an ageless King of Calnuthe, her ancestor. The
looked formidable and almost frightening, their faces so sharp and knowing.
That unspoken force she had felt upon her awakening once again shook her. Feeling
her cloak dance about her slim frame, Celestine felt her heart beat weaken.
“What is it friend?” a soft voice enquired kindly.
Turning to Aabe, his dark tresses cast across his serious gaze, Celestine
looked up into his gaze.
“Such great men, with endless power and wisdom still
flowing through them,” she said with a shake of her head. “I am nothing in
comparison, I’m not even sure if I know my own mind. Why do I feel like they
are looking upon me not with optimism, but disappointment?”
“That is merely a reflection of your own mind, before
you stand mere statues in memory of the men you believe to be superior in both
power and wisdom,” Aabe answered bluntly, his brown eyes baring the mark of a
similar thought. “But even they had their weaknesses, perfection I’m afraid is
a mere illusion. But you…” Aabe placed his cool hands upon her shoulders. “You stand before them, the closest to
perfection in the universe. Do not give up hope yet Celestine, not when you are
just embarking on your journey towards enlightenment. There is still hope, and
you will come to find your strength and power.”
“Where shall I find it?” Celestine whispered softly,
her golden gaze over-shadowed by grieve.
“In here, were it has always burned with reverence and
allegiance,” Aabe said, his words low and tinged with emotion. Celestine
watched on as the young wizard, often quiet and pensive in nature, bestowed a
hand upon her heart, his fingers trembling and his eyelashes fluttering under
her gaze. “Come, the night is drawing to a close and we must be on our way
before the sun rises.”
For a moment, they merely looked upon one another,
each quietly acknowledging the intangible fate interwoven between them.
“You believe in me?” Celestine whispered, a silent
tear marking her cheek.
“Since before I could speak,” Aabe answered with a
serious smile, the small lines about his large eyes drawing upwards. “I am not
alone.”
“Come Aabe, come Celestine we must go on,” Anvin
announced from nearby. Turning, Celestine watched the wizard step forward,
placing his right hand upon a golden flower which lay within the middle of the
grand gates. In wonder, Celestine watched as he splayed his hand over the
golden flower, his lips moving quietly, words she didn’t quite understand
flowing forth. In amazement she shielded her eyes as a golden light burst forth
from the flower, its power forcing the great gate open. A cloud of dust swept
over the group as the gates slowly edged backwards, revealing the great city
within. Standing close to Aabe, Celestine drew away her hand and noticed
several dozen beacons of light before them. Squinting her eyes, she observed a
group of twenty to thirty soldiers standing ready with their swords, their
leader upon a white horse.
“I should have known that you would return wizard,
return upon the point of mankind’s fall into destruction, as the rays of the
moon collide with our mother sun, her fire eclipsed by shadow and ice,” a regal
voice called out from beyond the gates. Celestine watched as the tall and
strong looking man upon the white horse came forward, his men following. “But
even I find myself somewhat mystified that you should return thus…”
“Stay close to me Celestine,” Aabe whispered as the
man sharply motioned for his beautiful steed to stop. Her eyes to the ground,
Celestine felt his gaze upon her.
“How did you come to know of our imminent arrival, my Lord?”
Anvin enquired stoutly, clearly unafraid of the man before him.
“She sees all Anvin, keeper of eyes,” the man answered
as he climbed down of his mount and threw back his hood, revealing his angelic
face and fiery blue eyes, which glowed as brightly as Celestine’s. “Her vision
has journeyed beyond the realms of our Kingdom,” the young Lord declared, his
heavy feet coming to stop before Celestine. She felt his gaze burn into her
skin, marking her like gold to iron. “But you already know that priest.”
“My Lord, I have come to seek your counsel, and I
believe you need mine,” Anvin said, his back straight and his hands without
tremor. He watched on as the young lord, revered and devoutly cherished among
his men, look upon Celestine. “May I introduce you to your cousin, and heir to
Calnuthe, Celestine, daughter of Unyae and Elion and granddaughter of Heiden,
King of Kings and Lord of Lords.”
“So, it is true?” Elion whispered in awe as he lifted
a gloved hand, and rested his index finger beneath Celestine’s chin, forcing
her face to rise and meet with his. “She has returned to save us? To bring
about peace and prosperity and to rid the world of our enemy?”
“It is she, the star of the north,” Anvin declared
gallantly, his sparkling eyes observing the young cousins as they looked upon
each other, half in suspicion and half curiosity.
“It is I cousin,” Celestine said with bated breath,
astonished at the similarity between her cousin and father. She could hardly
tell them apart such was their similarity in looks. She felt her eyes ease and
her lips smooth under his stern yet gentle gaze. His blonde locks were swept
behind his ears, and his beautifully rounded blue eyes, obviously stained by war
and pain looked down into her own. He wore a clock of emerald green and beneath
the uniform of a calnuthian commander, black leather pants, a black woollen
tunic which lay beneath a golden suit of armour which protected his chest, back
and shoulders. Nestled within the body armour, close to his neck was a small
white flower. He looked grand, strong and regal, his golden armour engraved
with silver and copper flowers. Upon his waist lay a golden belt in which
carried his sword and dagger. He was at least a half a foot taller than she.
“My mother was right, you are strange to behold in
looks, much like your own mother,” Elion stated simply as he slowly paced about
her, his eyes running up and down the length of her slim body. “She was a
renowned beauty, her fiery eyes and auburn hair filling many a song. I remember
her very little, but any memory of Unyae is never without taint and always
embedded with an innocence far beyond that of a simple woman. She was a light
unto lights, and her ray of eternal love and kindness shall never be forgotten,
for her grace shall always fed the lands of our forefathers with an eternal
dew.”
“You speak of my mother with a kind fondness cousin,”
Celestine returned in kind as Elion wound her arm through his, a radiating
smile putting any unease to rest. She knew instinctively that he was to be
trusted and that his loyalty was unshaken in the face of uncertainty.
“Come my dear cousin, the city has been awaiting your
arrival for some hours,” Elion announced loudly as he brought Celestine under
the great archway and into the city of shadow. Passing by the large group of
Calnuthian soldiers, she looked over her shoulder and caught sight of Anvin and
Aabe, following closely behind, the great gates closing. Taken by surprise,
Celestine noticed that the paved roads which wound from West to East were
flowing with sleepy men, women and children, all carrying various beacons of
light, their weary eyes now prized with life and awe. Cheers began to ring out
and in the distance, the bells of Numansdei rang out across the city. The
procession in full flow, Celestine, her feet tired and her heart fluttering
from the sheer impact of the crowds, couldn’t but take her eyes of her cousin.
The city adored him and clearly, he adored them in return, using his free hand
to wave. Celestine, unable to make out many of the buildings in which they
passed, allowed herself to be guided through the city, the road winding its way
up what felt like a hill of sorts.
“Our people have been stricken by poverty and war cousin,
many have travelled for months to seek shelter here in the city,” Elion said
under cover of his unfailing smile. “They have seen many a dreadful act and
many are without their family.”
“Then my brother’s wrath has indeed broken the land of
my father and reaped famine and death,” Celestine said in anger, her eyes now
taking in the thin and frail faces, many of women and young children, some
obviously scarred by the sword or worse.
“Such is his hand of power that those once silenced by
my uncle’s reign have now found the freedom in which to conduct their own acts
of cruelty upon the vulnerable.”
“What do you mean cousin?”
“Magic was once the jewel of our people, shrouding us
in a veil of mystery,” Elion declared with glazed eyes. “Now those who possess
the gift of our ancestors are being put to death by the men they call the
Rurin. Men of white cloth, those loyal to the old Gods.”
“You must forgive my ignorance, I am still quite
unlearned in the history of our people,” Celestine muttered in shame. “I thought
the people of the south and the north prayed to Heiden?”
“Many religions now thrive under the cover of the one
true God,” Elion said with a shake of his head. “That has always been the way.
Many a man is willing to turn his eyes from the truth, only if it does not
fulfil his purpose.”
“I see.”
“My own father was a great believer in the old Gods.”
“And you my Lord?”
Amid the crying, wailing and cheering crowds, Elion
came to an abrupt halt and turned to his cousin. Cold, hungry and in need of
rest, Celestine marvelled up at him, still amazed that she had been reconnected
with a family member, believing herself to be alone.
“Your mother’s arrival greatly changed the landscape
of religion my Lady, any seed of uncertainty was swiftly put to rest when she became
Queen,” Elion said kindly. “The days of your father’s reign were the finest,
even the flowers bloomed onwards, stretching into the cold wintur months. For a
while it seemed that all was in perfect balance and the world once more
peaceful and merry.”
“And then the sword of darkness pierced the veil of
light?” Celestine said with raised brows. “My brother…even my very own
existence has plunged this land into an unforgiving shadow.”
“Yet hope remains my Lady, for you have returned as it
was foretold,” Elion said in confidence. “And now you have given your people
hope for the future.”
“What about the city? Can it stand alone in the face
of your enemy? For surely my brother will be upon you?”
Elion’s smile faded into a sombre tremble at her
words. His eyes falling upon the darkened ground below, he nodded in agreement.
“It is true, he has but a week ago sent a great army
north, determined to break the last remaining fortress of the south,” Elion
said with a sigh of frustration. “And I know not where to send my people,
starving and weak as they are.”
“Surely there must be a way to protect them?”
Celestine enquired as they began to walk on once more. Celestine’s legs burned
as she walked through the streets, her feet ascending the steep hill.
“There are only the caves under the mountain, but word
has it that they have been over-run by wild wolves from the north.”
Before she could answer, Celestine found her eyes
falling upon a great cathedral which stoop upon the threshold of the hill. It
was beautiful and beguiling to look upon, its four towers reaching up into the
night sky, the stars reflecting against the smooth surface of the Blathan rock.
Close to the cathedral a great house stood, smaller in size but no less
beautiful.
“The house of our fathers,” Elion said simply as he
guided her east towards the house, heavily guarded by soldiers. “Come you must
be tired.”
“Achingly,” Celestine returned in kind as she allowed
Elion to bring her up the great steps, flanked by flags. Her eyes unable to
part with the cathedral, Celestine felt the presence of Anvin and Aabe close at
her side. All at once a dozen soldiers brought forth their silver horns and
clasped them to their lips, a sweet and captivating sound resounding far and
wide. At once the doors, embellished in gold opened and inside, a warmth of
fine light filtered out into the dark night. Inside three large tables filled
the great space, now flowing with merry men and women, men and women who it
seemed to Celestine’s eyes were of the higher realms of society, gowned in
beautiful gowns. Upon her arrival, the room came to a standstill and all eyes
fell upon her. “I’m not dressed for such an occasion cousin,” Celestine
whispered hurriedly, seeing the slight disappointed in the eyes of the women.
“I care not,” Elion said with warm and lingering
smile. “Come you must sit with me and eat.”
“But it is the early hours of the morning, how is that
still you feast?”
“Tonight, marks the return of mankind’s hope, is it so
strange that I should wish to celebrate?”
“Perhaps not,” Celestine returned, her cheeks flushed
with heat. At once those before her fell low, their heads bent as she was
brought through the large hall. The tables were laden with food, drink and
flowers and before them, stood a great throne, enshrined by a mosaic of colour
which hang from the wall. Another chair of gold sat close to the throne and as
Elion sat down in comfort upon his throne, Celestine motioned by him, sat down
upon the golden chair. Quickly a young maid came before her, a tray balancing
upon her trembling hand. A little taken back by the rowdy guests and merry
atmosphere, Celestine took a goblet of laman from the young maid and quickly
down the warm liquid, her cousin in talks with Anvin, who sat upon the other
side of his throne. Asleep at the foot of her cousin’s throne lay three great
dogs, all of whom resembled Irish wolfhounds. Her legs relaxing a little,
Celestine ran her eyes over the curious faces of those gazing upon her. Her
belly warmed by the liquid and her hands now revived, Celestine quickly tended
to her somewhat unclean hair. Music began to fill the hall and was soon
followed by joyous dancing, yet despite the warm welcome, Celestine could not
settle and nor it seemed could Aabe, who stood close by, leaning against a
pillar of stone, his face remarkably downtrodden. He refused any refreshments
and even the hand of a lovely young lady, clearly taken by his mysterious self.
Celestine felt reassured that her friend too felt oddly out of place,
considering the reason for their arrival. Turning her eyes to Anvin, she caught
his gaze and understood the message sent by the wizard. Clearly, he was
devoting much needed time to speaking with the young Lord, clearly in need of
counsel, the ringing of battle soon to be heard. Following his gaze across the
hall, she caught Aabe’s intense stare and new at once what was to be done.
Setting down her goblet, Celestine lifted herself from
the golden chair and quietly made her way down to Aabe. Her cousin, drenched in
conversation was somewhat oblivious to her exit, offering her a moment of
escape. Coming to Aabe, now standing straight and tall, she merely nodded, her
eyes finding the object of their mission beneath the fold of his cloak.
“Come we have matters to attend to,” Aabe whispered
into her ear, his gaze falling to the Book of Days which lay hidden beneath his
cloak.
“Were shall we hide it?” Celestine quizzed the young
wizard as she followed him through the hall, her eyes meeting with those who
passed them by, all of whom immediately fell into a regal bow before her.
“In plain sight of everyone,” Aabe answered with a
knowing smile. Finally making it out into the cold night air once more, the
guards silent and still, Aabe took Celestine’s hand and guided her down the
steps of the great house of Ethe. Soon they came to stand before Numansdei, its
sheer size and formidable power overwhelming. “Come,” Aabe said as he guided
Celestine up the great steps and under the magnificent threshold in which a
dozen angels looked down upon them. The air immediately changed and the light
it seemed, faded into silver. Celestine felt that tug of power which had clung
to her upon her arrival, once more surge through her, this time with a terrible
sickness. She felt its mark particularly upon her right arm in which had been
greatly weakened by her powers, turning her veins a horrid shade of black.
“It isn’t how I thought it would be,” she whispered
into the coldness. It was as unalike any cathedral she had seen. There were no
pews, no great altar and no sign of religious symbolism. Nothing it seemed
filled the great space around them, nothing that was but for dozens of
carefully structured channels which ran across the surface of the floor, each
vertically aligned towards what looked to be a great pond, which lay directly at
the heart of the cathedral. “Aabe what is this place?”
“Once it was the heart of white magic, a place in
which the white Queen, Sheloth lived,” Aabe whispered, the sound of dripping
water catching his ears. Celestine looked upon him and saw that he was indeed
frightened. “She was the oldest living priestess, until…”
Celestine stopped and forced her friend to look upon
her.
“Aabe, this place does not feel safe, no pure magic
lives within these walls, surely you can feel the same force which now holds my
body hostage?”
Aabe gulped loudly, the Book of Days clasped under his
left arm.
“This is the only place in which I can hide this
book,” Aabe whispered, his eyelashes fluttering uncomfortably. “We must be
quiet, we mustn’t disturb the water.”
“Why ever not Aabe? What hides beneath the water?”
Celestine quizzed darkly, her skin cool and her golden eyes casting a small
light over the black marbled floor. Looking up, she cast her eyes to the
marbled walls, all of which were now dripping in water, the buds of water,
controlled by a force, making their way down into the channels below.
“What happened to the white Queen Aabe?” Celestine
whispered in terror, her stomach silenced by a terrible wave of nausea.
“She was murdered and found lifeless upon the
floor…her eyes gone.”
Celestine turned from Aabe and watched as the water
flowed towards the pond. Feeling that unmistakable force within, she made her
way towards the pond, her hands lifeless by her side.
“Celestine no!” Aabe called out, his own body
paralysed by the darkness within the cathedral. “You mustn’t disturb the
water!”
“It is already disturbed,” Celestine whispered
inwardly as her booted feet fell still before the large pond. “Who murdered the
white Queen Aabe?” she cried out as a figure began to arise from the waters,
tall and ominous. She already knew the answer before the haunting words were
spoken.
“The faceless woman, Lady Moruaina.”
As he cried out the words, laced with regret,
Celestine watched on in fear as the figure, hooded in water turned to her. It was
a sight in which no words could hold justice, for as fearsome as the faceless
woman looked, Celestine couldn’t help but feel a momentary ray of awe run
through her. She had witnessed terrible power before, but such craft was
interwoven into the woman before her and for the first time in her life,
Celestine feared for her life. Her legs felt consumed by an angry force which
forced them to bend upon the ground. Her hands finding the moist marble below,
Celestine looked upon the glass like form of her aunt, her face hidden beneath
a hood of water, her long tresses of midnight black flowing down over her form,
a thousand shards of white light falling upon the fearsome woman and
immortalising her in buds of crystal water.
“At last we meet.”
© Iseult O'Shea and OneCrown&TwoThrones, 2017. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Iseult O'Shea and OneCrown&TwoThrones with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
Comments
Post a Comment