As Athinia and I sat on her front porch in the evening sun, she continued to recount her story…
It was a warm fall evening, similar to this one, in Mysteria.
The fall breeze drifted into the small cottage windows bringing with it the scent of winter as if it were right upon the doorstep—the sweet smell of the snow’s mist tantalizing everyone. They knew the harvest would bring great wealth to all that lived within the village and its surrounding areas. This was the time of year that everyone looked forward to; there was great anticipation of the celebration to come. It had everyone scurrying around as if there was no time to sleep, or even take the slightest breath.
Yet there was one who always seemed to be calm about what was to come and how life in this village would somehow continue on. The only problem was that Moonstar lived on the plateau of the Shadowvale Mountain. She never worried about what the villagers were doing. However, this was the night of the great feast and she would for the first time in many winters make her appearance. With young Arctigre at her side and this world in dire need of the prophecy to be fulfilled, Moonstar knew the time was right.
The young child that was brought into this world would soon be bound to her. Although, the tale of the child was not yet clear, this did not matter to Moonstar for the second part of the prophecy would soon come full circle.
Having already seen the first part of the prophecy completed, Moonstar would soon be a part of the gifted one. It would be her job to train the child in the ways of light. Moonstar could feel the hate and anger growing within the child. Even though, she knew that love would soon find the child’s young heart like it had her mother and father.
As I gazed at my mother, I did not know, or yet understand why I was to go live with the lady of the mountain. Let alone why they did not want me any longer.
Although in time, I came to understand that they did want and love me very much. They were only sending me to learn the ways of life in the world of Arkadia. I knew there was something special about me, which brought fear to the people of my village.
With a smile upon her face, Moonstar sensed the satisfaction that I felt deep within me. She could see the pain the young boy had caused with his teasing and berating me on how different I was and how small, much too small for my age. Even though they all could see that I am part Halfling and Wood Elf what would one expect?
However, Moonstar thought that I could have been a bit taller and maybe a little heavier than I was. Nonetheless, I looked to be more Halfling than Wood Elf, especially in my height but I showed the Wood Elf part of me with my slender stature.
Moonstar told me about the day when she first saw a Halfling, how they all looked as if they had swallowed full pumpkins that stood as tall as them. She said they all had short legs and squatty statures and one could not help but think of them as just mere children.
Looking down on the village from the mountain Moonstar could not help but think about the events yet to come. She knew that in time I would know as well.
The village of Mysteria sat snug at the base of the Shadowvale Mountains. It was a quiet and quaint little place with its small stone cottages, gardens, and farms of many varieties. The tavern where the ale was brewed was also the Inn, with its quiet little rooms, where any traveler would find a warm welcome of comfort after a long journey. With all their needs attended too, they would find time to join in on the celebration.
During the harvest season, there were no empty rooms in the Inn, for that was the time of year when people from all the neighboring lands came to share in its wealth or just enjoy the celebration and admire the decorations of the courtyard in its festive colors.
Then there is the beautiful Diremist Forest that surrounds the village. It was vital to the well-being. The plants and wildlife that lived within helped us in our everyday needs.
If one were to fall ill, the soothsayer could make a remedy from the many varieties of plants and herbs that grew there.
I can still remember one of the stories the storyteller had told us when he was passing through. He spoke highly of the springtime. His words still ring in my ears, just like they did when I was still a small child of four winters. He spoke softly. However, his words would fill the evening sky, like that of a song being sung by the night sparrow.
The storyteller would look deep into the eyes of all who were seated at his feet as he began his tale.
The branches that hung over the village looked as if they were placed there to protect what lay beneath, from the rays of the morning’s sun. They were full and thick with the new spring blossoms. The leaves that lay on the ground covered it like a warm quilt draped over the end of abed, waiting to be placed upon one to warm them from a cool spring night.
In the springtime, you could see the small animals making their way from place-to-place, scampering through the musty leaves foraging for food. The limbs from the old laid in slumber and made good homes for the animals that resided within their protective arms. You could find bears, wolves, owls and other creatures…Sometimes you could even see the ones of the mystical nature.
Then there was the water of the Mandria River. You could hear it as it caressed the sand and rocks situated beneath it, like a baby suckling its mother. The sounds of pure peace could lull even the strongest of creatures to sleep. One could, become lost to it if they were not careful. If you sat and listened to what the land had to offer; you could hear the birds as they sang, the crickets as they chirped, the rustling of the small animals as they made their way through the blanket of leaves, or even the wind as it gently blew through the branches.
One might say that the land was singing with all the sounds filtering together as if it were a melody being sung.
If one were to sit near the falls of the river, they could feel the mist as it made its way over the rocks, gently landing; and finally splashing upon the skin of its intended victims.
I pondered more of what the storyteller had to say, I would find myself sitting there, dreaming of the magic that the world held. I would dream about the dragons, goblins, even the wizardry, and the powers of nature. Yet, there were those that say magic and magical creatures were used in stories one would tell their children at bedtime. Nonetheless, I still believe in the magical ways of that world. However, small that might be in the minds of its people. I knew how real it was and how powerful it could be.
Although, I feel that within me there lies a special power, one I had seen and brought to life.
I remember that unfortunate day when I had wished for the plant to harm one of the young boys of my village. I did not mean to harm anyone and now I know that what I had done could have been controlled. Yet I did not know how or why I was chosen to carry such a heavy burden upon my small shoulders. All I knew was that because of that unfortunate day I had leave that place of sanctuary and go live with the lady of the mountain.
My mother and father were furious with me and seemed to want to be rid of all that they once held dear…Why me? Why did this have to happen to me? Why could I not be like the others? With tears streaming down my face, I looked up at the mountain where I would be going to live. Not realizing that I was being watched, I turned and wiped my eyes and then I went back to my daydreaming about the village.
The villagers loved to tell stories about adventures, especially the stories about the creatures that inhabited the forest. If one were to venture into it, they might find that some of the bedtime stories were true. Yet they did not dare journey within it, for the laws of the land forbade it and the punishment would be severe. If one were to fall ill, the guards accompanied the soothsayer so that she could gather the herbs that were needed to cure the inflicted.
Being of a curious nature, I took a walk into the forest and to my surprise, I saw many of the creatures from the tales. Startled by the sight, I started running back towards my family’s small cottage. As I reached the garden gate, I saw my mother tending one of her many gardens. I was so excited, yet scared and out of breath. It took all the strength I had left within me, to try to explain to my mother, where I had been, and what I had seen. Only after getting the word Diremist out, I saw the anger come over her face.
“Athinia, you know you are not allowed to venture into the woods. If you were caught, you know the king’s of punishment. What if something happened to you?” my mother said in a scolding tone of voice.
I acknowledged that what I had done was wrong. Still I tried to tell her what I had seen. She just waved me away and went back to tending her many gardens.
All those who knew my mother also knew where to find her at any given time. She loved to be out with nature, feeling the dirt in her hands and watching life growing. Seeing the familiar gesture, of the wave of her hand, I knew that she silently expressed her wish not to be disturbed.
I turned and headed back down the path towards the tree that would give me comfort, when my family was too busy. As I reached, the tree that looked as if it was weeping. I leaned against the trunk and gently slid down the bark so that I was seated beneath its branches. I watched the leaves that looked like teardrops on a child’s face, sway back and forth in the gentle breeze, and listened to the sounds of the forest.
As I sat there I remembered how much I loved the fall; with the leaves changing colors and the warm breeze making the leaves dance upon the ground. I loved to just lie beneath the branches and be whisked away into a daydream about being one of the woodland creatures. I imagined being one of the fairies that re-seeded the land with new life. Although, I also thought of being one of the black bears that had just awoken from a long winter’s nap; and hungrily looking for some lush, plump and juicy berries. The very thought of them made my mouth start to water. However, within all this serenity my daydreams came to an end as my mother called for me to come and help her with the daily chores.
In two night’s time, my father would be returning with the lady of the mountain. I was not feeling very happy about her coming to take me away, so that I could be taught the ways of the land and magic…the very thought of it did not sit well within my young heart. The pain that I had caused young Spletzer after he had angered me not so long ago brought tears to my eyes. I could still hear his teasing, of how I was a half-breed, not being of one true nature. How it had made me wish that the vines from the Stranglethorn bush would choke the very life out of him. I did not know that it would come to pass.
“In time, you will learn how to control the powers that lie in slumber, and the lady of the mountain will teach you all you will need to know,” my mother told me after that event.
I did not wish to leave my family, and I did not feel the need to stay near our small cottage. Therefore, I set out to walk the paths of the village. However, for some reason, that day the structures seemed to make more sense. Normally I would not pay them any heed.
The cottages were simple and yet spacious, and could house five people comfortably with their adequate sized rooms. They were made from the large stones and wood from the oak trees along the Mandria River. They had fireplaces that one can see into, making it easy to check the meals that are being prepared. The sleeping rooms faced the east so that the morning sun would shine in to greet them with its warmth. The garden room faced to the west so that the sun could kiss the plants that lived within, as it made its’ way down the horizon.
My walk took me as far as the distant castle and when I reached it, Isa how the large stonewalls that encased it, looked as though they had grown out of the water. The bridge was made of stone and looked so sleek in its design. It looked like it had stepped right out of a painting. Just across the bridge were the great iron and wooden gates; at that time they stood open. If something or someone were to come and try to harm the village, the folks could find sanctuary within the great walls.
A large lake that surrounded the castle and was about six feet deep and five feet wide with trees strategically placed around it. Even the benches that sat beneath the trees where one could sit and admire the land, or just relax on a warm spring or summer day, were carefully formed, and set into place.
Beyond the gates laid the courtyard. Walking through those massive gates, I saw many varieties of trees, flowers and also how lush and green the grass was. All of this made me want to run over and lay on its pillowy form.
To the east were the stables that housed the king’s steeds, and to the west was the cook and smokehouse. The guardhouses surrounded the outer edge; protecting the shops within. There was a stock house, chapel, and housing where a few of the peasants and serfs resided.
In the center of the courtyard was a sitting place, where the storytellers would come to tell their stories of their great adventures. However, when the nightly tales were done, everyone could hear the children asking for more. Nevertheless, the storytellers would tell them no, for the time had come that they must be on their way.
The village received many types of storytellers; some sang, some told stories in rhymes and others just made a show out of what had happened during their journeys along the way. They never asked for anything, but did partake of the food and drink that was offered.
After a short time of looking around the courtyard my venture led me into the castle, I sensed how cold, damp and drafty it was, even with the large fireplaces that burned logs that were the size of small trees that would burn throughout the night.
One might suspect that with this grand of a structure, the inhabitants would not feel the cold and dampness or even think that it was dreary.
The furnishings were painstakingly made so that they did not look more elegant than that of the villagers. This was done so that the royalty who lived within did not feel as though they were better than their own people. However, the villagers believed that they are all one big family.
Torches and candles were used to light the way through the dark halls. Although during the day the sun illuminated nicely through the sand hued intertwined and twisted iron windows, allowing for sufficient light that was needed for that dreary place.
The doors leading into the castle were made from the great oak trees and lined with steel. The steel was in the shape of a serpent with its tail twisted around it and its head resting upon it, as if to say, ‘I’m here to protect what lies within.
The outer edge of the main hall was lined with stone pillars and in the center stood a magnificent oak chair. The walls and floors looked as if they had taken many years to hand polish to obtain their glass-like finish.
To the left were hand carved stone stairwell, and the doors that led into the great hall. The great hall was where events and strategies were planned.
As I wandered into the great hall, I saw the weapons and battle armor; and noticed how they were strategically mounted upon the walls in readiness.
In the center of the room stood a table that looked as if it had grown out of the floor, with regal chairs surrounding it. Just above the table, were many handcrafted candles seated upon a majestic deer antler chandelier.
Up the stone-carved staircase were the bedchambers. The rooms were bedecked with silk linen, with canopied beds and armories, similar to the one you saw in the room where you were attracted to the tapestry of my animal companions and me. The walls of the great hall were adorned with elegant tapestries needed to bring brightness to the lifeless rooms.
Hidden within a few of the rooms were passageways that led into the inner part of the mountain that adjoined the castle. The mountains inner sanctuary was for a safe retreat, if by chance the castle was ever besieged. With all this beauty, I could see why it took so many winters to build.
As I made my way out of the splendid place, my thoughts turned to the people of the village. I recalled how most of the families had come thereby misfortune, after their villages had been burned, and most of their families and friends slaughtered. However, those who had managed to escape came seeking asylum from the war.
Realizing the day was turning to dusk, I decided the time had come for me to head back, where I knew my mother would be waiting.
As I walked the paths, my mind drew to the sight of it, and how it was made of tiny stones. Drawing closer to our cottage, I could see by the look on my mother’s face that she was not pleased that I had disobeyed her by wandering so far from our home.
I did not feel very hungry so I made my way to my sleeping room. Lying down on my bed of skins, I could hear my mother as she approached-set for the nightly story she seemed to love to tell before I drifted off into slumber. As my mother entered, I could see how elegant she was with her hair tied up in a bun and her tea in hand; she sat on the edge of my bed of skins.
“Athinia, tonight I will tell you the journey of my Becoming. For one day, you will also become a woman. You will one day take the same journey into this great world, just as I did. When my time came to become part of it, I was scared. Although, if you listen closely to my tale you will find strength within it,” she stated.
My mother’s name was Kadia Lossëhelin and she loved to tell me how my father, Arctigre Lossëhelin, and she came to be one with each other. I believed that this was the happiest time in her life.
Now this is what my mother had to tell me all those many years ago. I will tell you the tale the way that she had told me.
