Prologue

Listen:

Hello my friend. I am pleased that you have decided to visit. Sit a while and let me tell you of things long passed.

You know me, although you know not my name. My name, consequently, is unimportant. A name is nothing, a collection of sounds humans use to label a thing and familiarize it. I do believe a great poetic mind once asked through his writing: 'what is in a name?" A rose by any other name, indeed, would still smell just as sweet. What I am trying to get at is this: I have been called many things, but more important than my many labels is the story I will begin here in a few moments.

Yes, you do know me. You know me personally from within your own soul. I have been with you since the dawn of time, I have witnessed the rising and falling and rising yet again of mankind.

Yet of all the years I have been, I have lived only briefly. Perhaps it is so with all of man, though man's life is considerably fleeting. Short-lived as it is, I find it amazing that man has not learned to experience their life more than what they do. My brief taste of pure human emotion has left me craving for more; my mouth is parched and yearns for that sweet nectar of life. Even though I feel incomplete without the necessities you humans have labeled love and hate, I also feel that I would not be able to handle such a state of being for very long. Perhaps this explains why humans live only momentarily compared to that of the gods, or even of trees. Short as it is, human life smells the sweetest I have known.

This story is about the time that my entire being aches for. As you listen to these words, think not of the person I was, but think of the lives in this story. Reach out to them, touch them, and hold them in your hand. Feel what goes through their minds with your fingertips, caress their thoughts, see through their eyes. Know what it means to be them, and live as they lived. Then perhaps you will receive a faint whisper of what I felt while I lived this life at that time.

Sharing my lovely past is my purpose, as your purpose is to sit here before me and listen attentively to these upcoming words. It may not be the perfect story, for I am not the perfect storyteller. But it is a masterpiece in itself, which I have lived as such and pass this on to you.

So now I implore you to find a comfortable spot in which to recline and prepare yourself for this tale that is to be told. Here, take my hand, clasp it tightly, and let me lead you on this road that I have once called my life.

Book One:
The Beginning

Maj waited patiently for the boy to arrive. She had foreseen his arrival and lifted the veil that hid her door from mortal view. He arrived, just as expected, breathless and sweating from running a great distance. He was surprised that Maj had known he was coming, but then again, Maj knew everything when it was about to happen.

"I have come to take you to the forests of Fairdox, my lady." He said, still somewhat breathless. "Your healing powers are urgently needed!" his tone was almost begging, and his heart would not slow it's pace.

The woman smiled and nodded. Of course she was needed. She had known she was needed for quite some time. "The lady nymph Virn desperately needs me, does she not?" she was merely toying with the boy. He nodded vigorously, and made as if to grab her arm and hurry her toward the Nymph land of Fairdox. "Touch me not!" she scolded and puffed out of sight. She reappeared inches from the boy's face. He gasped and jumped. She grinned playfully. "Young man, for what reason do you run errands for people of the Nymphly fashion?" she inquired. "You are, after all, a human boy."

The boy twitched somewhat impatiently. "May I explain this to you on the way? It is a life and death situation, but I am not quite sure what it is. You know, it is a woman's thing." He fidgeted more and glanced down the path upon which he had just raced himself.
"Oh hush." Maj chided. "And answer me."

The boy turned bright red. "My parents owed them a fee. They would not tell me why they owed the Nymph's anything, because it was some sort of secret. I think the Nymphs helped my parents out and they had no way of paying them back, so they made a bargain. And I was it. Their eldest son had to become one of their runners for five years. It is only my first year, so forgive me if I am a bit rusty on the subject. But your presence is imperative!"

Maj was impressed by the young lad's mature speech. She nodded. "Yes, we have wasted much time. Now that you have relieved my curiosity, let us depart." The boy nodded vigorously and began scooting down the path. "No, no." the wise and ancient healer said. "If I am so needed, then we must get to our destination faster than what we would on foot."

The boy's eyes widened as the form of the shape of the ageless beauty transformed into a giant Phoenix. He had forgotten Maj was a shape-changer. The beak of the giant fire-colored bird opened, and the words "climb on" escaped it. He did as the bird had bid him, and hung on for dear life. The boy could feel himself being lifted up into the air. He dared not look at the swiftly passing scenery, as he squeezed his eyes shut. His heart pumped faster than it had while he had been running, and when the ride was over, he found himself to be shaking despite his fruitless attempt to keep his calm.

He slid off the bird's back unsteadily and fell to the ground. He had never missed the earth so greatly as he clung to the damp cold dirt. When his blood cooled, he managed to look into the azure eyes of Maj, once again returned to her beautiful maiden form. She had calmly waited for him to regain his vigil, and when he looked up she smiled.

"Will you escort me?" she asked. She looked around the Nymph village, which was not really a village at all. The Nymphs were creatures of the forest, as Maj was. It was hard to tell that you were in a community of Nymphs unless you were one of them. They hid their homes, camouflaged so well that no enemy could happen upon them and cause harm. The boy, too, had trouble finding the place. The doorway was hidden between two large roots of a giant tree, and a hole had been dug between them. Long vines hung from above and closed off the opening. It was quite an exceptional entry for a nymph. The hole widened out into a long passageway that led to the ground. Since there were no airways, fires could not be lit. Instead, iridescent Luminescent Stones were placed at various intervals to light the way. The iridescent Stones were merely normal stones that had been given a magic spell to shine where there was no light.

The hall sloped gradually and opened out to an airy room. This room allowed fire since vents had been dug up to the forest floor. The murmuring that Maj had taken into account before they had arrived abruptly stopped. The room, of course, appeared empty. It was the way nymphs kept protected from unexpected intrusions. When they realized whom the intruders were, the magic veil that had made them appear invisible slowly lifted. One by one, nymphs began to pop out and welcomed Maj with open arms.

The Elder Nymph, an old crone with silvery hair and eyes that matched, stood up and wobbled over to the far end of the room, beckoning Maj forward. Even the eldest nymph, one whom was revered not just by nymphs, but by many creatures, paid deep respect to Maj and averted her eyes. She spoke softly, as to appease the ancient gatekeeper as she floated by. There was a hole in the wall from the floor to the ceiling that was used as a door. Strings of beads hung down from the top and acted as a door.

Nymphs were almost human creatures, save for the slimmer stature, the larger eyes, and the pointed ears. Their skin color was different, also, with tints of blue, green, purple, or orange-ish red. They were also a much more ancient race than the human's, bearing magical gifts of song, dance, pleasure, and happiness. They were timid creatures, straying from the event of war. A few odd nymphs took it upon themselves to become warriors, but they joined up with war-like creatures in order to use their ability.

Maj entered the room softly, adjusting her eyes to the dim lighting. Only two candles lit the room, one on each side of a floor mat. On the mat lay a very pregnant, very struggling young nymph. Her forehead was creased and knotted in pain, her eyes were squeezed shut and droplets of sweat that beaded down to her neck surrounded her face. Her breathing was strained, and every now and then she would cry out in pain.

Immediately, Maj's mothering instincts caused a surge of emotion to swell up inside of her. She rushed over to the young nymph's side, reached for a damp towel and patted the girl's face. She cooed to the young one and told her things would be just fine, that she was going to be all right again.

Maj rather loved the feelings she got when she was called upon to nurse someone back to health. She expected these scenes every time, but every time they struck her dumb and made her act almost mortal. Soon she had crooned the young nymph to a state where panic was far away.

"Your name is Virn, is it not?" Maj asked. She knew this already, but anything to calm the young girl. The poor thing, Maj thought. What a poor, poor little thing. She did not deserve this.
"Y-yes." The young nymph gasped as another wave of pain overtook her. She choked
and cried out, grabbing the sides of the mat and bearing her clenched teeth. Normally, nymph births did not cause as much pain, but this was not a true nymph birth. That much Maj had known all along. "Who are you?" gasped Virn as the wave subsided. Maj smiled, having not expected the delirious girl to recognize her.

"I am here to help you, little one. So fear not. Just rest your head, and I will see that you bear no more pain." Maj gently pushed Virn backward so that she was lying flat on her back. Her mountainous stomach lurched at the subtle movement. The old gatekeeper made swift hand movement over the young nymph's head, and soon Virn slept without pain. Maj placed her hands on Virn's stomach, and felt around. The time would be soon. It was a pity that Maj had not arrived sooner; early arrival would have spared the girl much pain. She sighed, knowing that even ancient ones were doomed to make mistakes every once in a while. She pushed the thought aside and got to work.

The Elder stood with her back to the door in the other room, watching the other nymphs try to stare through her and glimpse what events were taking place. The old crone knew that the nymphs were curious as to why the moaning from labor pains had ceased. The Elder, too, was curious. But what was happening in that room was Maj's business.

Just as the feeling of impatience was about to take control of the room full of nymphs, a fait crying came from behind the elder. Everyone perked up and looked eagerly toward the Elder. She did not move, she would not until Maj called for her. But Maj did not call for her.

A short time later, a second wail could be heard. The child must be boisterous, the Elder thought, and Maj is busy tending to him. The Elder pictured the ancient gatekeeper, with her arms wrapped around the newborn, rocking it back and forth as she said the blessings.

Calming the child was not what Maj was doing. She called the Elder into the dim room, and told her to bring no one else with her. Startled, the Elder hobbled into the room as quickly as she could. What she saw struck her dumb.

"Two?" she whispered, shocked. Oh, the horror! "Two? There are two of them?" This could not be. No one can know this. Twins! This was definitely horrible omen.

"What do you want done, Elder?" Maj inquired softly, her eyes settled upon the pair of infants. Maj knew what could be done, but it was not her jurisdiction. Twins, among the Nymph kind, were considered a hex and were better left forbidden. They happened rarely to people of the Nymph, for the gene that carried twins has been mostly bred out of their race. But that was not the case here, for the twin gene had not come from any nymph.

The old crone's hand floated up to her face and covered her mouth. She looked down at the two newborns. Both were strong babies, clearly much too large and pale to be fully nymph. But they were fine sons. She closed her eyes and tried to think. "This girl-she has gone through so much already. I could not bear to let her go through more. If nothing, she should not know of the second son."

Maj nodded. "The first born will stay here and learn the nymph ways. No one will know of the second but you and I. I shall take this child and give him to a family that needs a son. There are plenty of families in need of children around here."

"What family do you have in mind?" the Elder questioned.

"Oh, it is a good family. The boy will be safe there. The wife has wizardry in her blood, her grandfather was the great magician Harx." Maj looked up at the old nymph, to see if she followed.
"The boy will be welcomed there, and if he has any unusual talents, he will not be condemned. In fact, I am sure he will be loved and treasured, more so if he has magical powers." Maj felt a stab of self-doubt run up her spine. It was not often that she had to guess. She usually knew. But for some unknown reason the futures of each of these two babes were just a foggy mist within her mind's eye. She could not truly tell what would become of either of them. She sighed, accepting her imperfect sight with a grudge, and pretended that she knew what she was talking about.

What a strange feeling, she thought, to not know. Has it ever happened to me before?

Not within her memory, she concluded. And her memory was as perfect as they came.

The elder nodded, agreeing with the idea. "As long as this child is taken care of. It is not his fault that he had to share a womb."

Maj bundled up the two babies. She placed her hand on the first born and whispered his name. The blessing has been completed. She moved to the second born and repeated the same ritual. Now both babies had a name, a name and a soul. The gatekeeper picked up the second born, looked at the elder, bid her farewell, and was gone with less than a puff of smoke.

The instant Maj disappeared, Virn awoke. She looked around, somewhat confused. When her eyes landed on the baby, they lit up brightly and she moved to pick him up. She was hindered though; her body was still in pain. The Elder picked up the newborn and placed him in his mother's arms.

Maj reappeared at the place where she resided, the very center, the heart, of the Sacred Forest. From here she could witness anything and everything that went on in the Forest. They did not call her gatekeeper for nothing, for she guarded this Forest from enemies, and also guarded the gate to the Other World. As long as the gate remained, so would she.

The baby was fast asleep. Maj had no time to fuss over the child, so she had put a sleeping spell over him. She sat the baby down on an altar, and kneeled in front of it. The ancestry of this child must be known. She could not give a demon child to an unsuspecting, undeserving family. Again, that feeling of foreboding swept over her. I must know, she told herself. I must.

Her eyes closed, and her breathing became erratic, then it slowed down to a faint hush. She placed her hands on the infant's stomach, and began to hum an ancient incantation. Light glowed from her fingertips and covered the child. She rocked back and forth on her knees, searching.

In a moment, her eyes flew open. She looked down at the innocent child who was fast asleep on the floor, absently sucking on his small fist. It was deceiving to look at this child and know what great potential he had. She must take it upon herself to give him to a right and virtuous family, so that his powers would not go to waste�or so that his powers would not go to evil. If that happened, she shuddered, all would be lost. He could be the destruction of the entire land.

"I named you well, Jariath." She said to the sleeping babe. His name was ancient and powerful, much like the blood that ran through his veins. In an old and forgotten tongue, Jariath meant Stormy Wrath. "It is time to bring you to your new family."

>Three years later<

The king paced back and forth in the hall. He could not take this insanity. His own wife was in distress! How dare they not let him be with her? He gritted his teeth and looked to the closed heavy wooden door. Despite the door's thickness, he could hear her screams. They tormented him. It was so hard to hear her scream like that and not be able to rush in and comfort her. It took all of his strength to hold himself from ramming those doors down and rushing over to his queen to take her in his arms. His fists clenched and unclenched as he tried to remain stable and keep his rage intact.

Hambre was young, but he was a good king. His lineage had always been virtuous and grand. The people loved and trusted him, not knowing a better king than he. It was his heart that gave him the ability to rule without paining others. Perhaps it was his heart that made him such a nervous wreck.

He stood just over six feet, not the tallest man around, but he carried a haughty air about him that gave the illusion of supremacy to any that defied him. He could seem ten feet tall if he wanted to. Hambre was dark and handsome, with an angular face and piercing black eyes that turned into liquid pools of deep ebony and lavender only to his lovely wife.

His wife, Shay, was in labor. The child was to be their firstborn. Shay was an extremely rare beauty, even among the nymphs. Being nymph, she was slender and graceful in stature. She was among the taller breed of nymphs, raising almost to Hambre's chin. Her eyes were soft lavender, her hair a glorious tint of gold. And her body was one to turn any man's head in her direction.

Even though she could walk through the midst of angry drunken men, and capture their attention in two moment's time, it was not her splendor that had made him fall in love with her. If it had only been that, they would not have married. It was uncommon for a nymph and a human king to marry. If it was beauty he was after, he could have gotten that in his own race.

She was undoubtedly his only true love. She understood him through and through and always knew when he was troubled. All though he would never demand anything of her, Hambre knew she would never deny him anything. Neither was complete when they were apart.

Anxiousness was about to get the best of Hambre when the nursemaid opened the door and bade the king to enter. He rushed in and swiftly came to his wife's side. "My queen, are you all right?" He kissed her damp forehead. She nodded and smiled at him weakly, her lavender eyes reflected her exhaustion. Hambre wanted to take her into his arms and simply hold her close, but he dared not move her. He knew births could be excruciating, but it was different for Shay. She was nymph, and he was a human. Complications could have arisen. He was just overjoyed that she was going to be fine. He lightly kissed her again.

The nursemaid cleared her throat, asking for the king's attention. He turned to face her, and she had an infant in her arms. "Say hello to your new daughter," the nursemaid said. Hambre lost all thought and ability to speak. Instead he reached for the tiny bundle and brought it to his chest. Hambre gazed down at the tiny creature, with its cute button nose, with its beautiful eyes.

Hambre finally found his voice. "She is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen." He could say no more, so he merely looked at his wife, then back to his daughter. She looks like her mother. So beautiful, so delicate. Like a song�but too small to be a song. She is part of a song. She is the rhythm of the song. The beautiful rhythm. A cadence