Back to the start...
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| The Warning | |||||||||||||||
| Chilandrea arrived back at her chambers a short while later. She opened the door to the main room and glided inside. The room was very large and spacious. A large hearth took up nearly all of one of the fifteen-foot high walls, which would be for anytime she needed to perform a large ritual involving potions or sacrifices. The rest of the room consisted merely of a small table and three beautifully ornate chairs. The hearth also provided enough light to fill the room while entertaining -- which barely ever happened. | |||||||||||||||
| Besides this main room, there was a washroom and bedroom, and a special chamber specifically to hold all her books, charms, and ingredients she needed. The king and prince had wanted to giver her a much larger set of rooms to keep her happy and closer to the royal family, but this was all she needed. Her bedroom consisted of an unnecessarily large bed, a small table beside it and a tiny lantern to read by. The large window that opened onto a small stone balcony overlooking the entryway to the castle took up most of the wall next to her bed. Her rooms were located at the far end of the castle -- far from any other people -- down a dark, nearly hidden corridor. She liked her space. | |||||||||||||||
| Letting her body air out a bit, she hung her cloak up by the door. When she was first staring her training as a priestess and still a young girl of seven or eight years, the All High Priestess -- Molandra -- gave her a beautiful necklace of silver and opal. It was simple yet elaborate, shining in even the smallest amount of light. Her neck had long ago outgrown it, so now she wore it in her hair as a small crown with the bright fire opal pendant dangling in the center of her forehead. As she walked over to the hearth, a fire suddenly blazed into existence before. She smiled to herself. She had created it. | |||||||||||||||
| Staring into the fire, she thought of the fiasco that had just occurred. It was one of her favorite intimidation tricks. Unfortunately, the prince was stubborn and would completely ignore her pleas for safety. He had always wanted to know the answers to everything; 'why would this happen? How would that work?' and everything in between. | |||||||||||||||
| Most people said she was the most powerful of her order, but that couldn't change the fact that she didn't know everything, couldn't see all, and wouldn't be able to answer every question. She settled with it, happy to be what she was, and did what was expected of her... most of it. | |||||||||||||||
| Most of her visions came as a surprise and would usually involve some great importance. She stared into the fire reliving her last vision that came while she was practicing her transfigurations... | |||||||||||||||
| She was trying to change a chair into a vase when an abrupt flash of light blinded her. A very handsome man with green eyes was the first thing to come into focus. He was smiling in a way that had warmed her all over, yet still caused a cold sweat and clammy palms. A quiet whisper in the background, and then his expression became frightened and pained. Horace came into view and he looked furious and saddened. There were cries of outrage and blurred images, then the gleaming blade of an axe as it swung down. The vision left her convulsing with emotions, feelings leaving her dizzy, breathless, angered, and strangely aching. | |||||||||||||||
| Her eyes snapped open with a gasp for air. The man. The man with the beautiful green eyes... what was his name? She had to know his name. She concentrated on his face and realized Prince Horace knew him. She closed her eyes again and ran the vision through her head over and over again to see if it would come to her. His smiling face stuck with her. But the whisper... what was that the person was saying? Someone had spoken to him just before everything went wrong, but what did they say? Slowly, as she ran it through her mind, it became clearer and clearer. Senda..... Sander.... Lysander... Alexander! His name was Alexander, a knight from Wychdaerv, and a childhood friend of Prince Horace. Suddenly, she could see all of it. Sir Alexander was the one Horace had requested she scry^ for. He wanted to know if the war would be over by the time he sent a letter requesting a visit. She had told him when to send it, and now he was on his way to start the chain reaction of tragedy. | |||||||||||||||
| This was the reason for the entire fiasco in the prince's room. She wished it would have swayed him, but he was firm in seeing his old friend. Thinking of the vision and Alexander's face, she had an interest in meeting him even though the vision showed her it would not help the situation. His eyes stirred something within her she'd never felt before. She tried to shake it off, but his eyes haunted her. | |||||||||||||||
| She decided that a little rest and some chanting may shift her thoughts, so she retreated to her bed after putting out the fire with a wave of her hand. She sat and reached up to the neck of her dress to pull out her charm. It was a large solid pewter charm in the shape of a trinity knot on a piece of long thread, letting it dangle underneath her dress. She would hold it in the palm of her hand when her nerves got the best of her. This was one of those times. At times like this, it would glow with a deep blue light. She thought about the reason why she was chosen. She was given the job to protect the kingdom assigned to her. She didn't want one man destroying her kingdom. | |||||||||||||||
| But those eyes... those beautiful jade eyes... | |||||||||||||||
| Think of something else, she thought. The prince is stubborn in his ways and will not prevent his friend from visiting, but once my premonition comes true, he will finally see I am as powerful as they say I am. She then thought of Molandra and how she treated Chilandrea like a daughter. Molandra had promised her a fine husband as well as leading the way for her to become the next All High Priestess. All priestesses, as well as being assigned a kingdom or city, would also be given a husband chosen by Molandra. To Chilandrea, she would give her favorite of all the suitors. Until their husbands were chosen, no priestess would be touched by any man. Chilandrea knew that Molandra would be consulting her soon about her Promised, but she wasn't sure she was ready for marriage. She was only seventeen. | |||||||||||||||
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| Alexander took a long drink from his water pouch and looked up at the massive stone structure before him. It had been so long since he'd visited Prince Horace and his castle that he'd almost forgotten what a magnificent sight it was. Two circular towers stood at each side of the main wall, both looming at least two hundred feet high, about fifty feet or so higher than the wall. A third tower that mimicked the first two stood in the very center of the castle, craning a hundred feet above the others. The entire structure of the outer wall -- as well as the castle inside -- was made of some white marble-like material that sparkled even in the gloom of a typical Storindrake overcast. | |||||||||||||||
| He thought of his imagined picture of the High Priestess -- a thin, innocent-looking blonde in long white robes -- and smiled to himself. This will be a very amiable visit, he thought. Replacing his water pouch, he drove his horse onward to the gates. Riding through, he could see that most of the people seemed happy to be alive. They were laughing, shouting, and children dodged to and fro before his path. The market was bustling as he rode toward the large stone steps where he hoped to greet Horace and his priestess. | |||||||||||||||
| One child approached the side of his horse staring at his sword. The boy looked up at him with large curious eyes. "Are you a knight?" he asked. | |||||||||||||||
| "I am," Alexander replied. | |||||||||||||||
| "Blimey!" The boy turned excitedly and ran to a group of children as he told them a real knight had come to their kingdom. The entire group looked at Alexander with delight and flocked behind him as he continued to ride. He quite enjoyed the attention. | |||||||||||||||
| "Alexander! You've arrived!" he heard. Looking up, he saw Horace running down the steps, grinning like a fool. Alexander hopped off his horse as Horace reached the bottom of the stairs and hugged him. "Alexander, how are you? How was the war?" | |||||||||||||||
| Horace had not changed since he'd last seen him. He was still very thin and lanky, with outrageously pale skin, bright curly red hair and brown eyes. The only difference was his attitude -- he'd gone from an immature, playful teenager to a man of responsibility and power. "Well, Your Highness, I'm tired and the war was bloody," he said jovially. "I'm glad you invited me. It's been a long time since I've seen this place." | |||||||||||||||
| "Yes, well, you've missed many things, my friend." | |||||||||||||||
| "You and I are of a responsible age now -- 23 years of life -- and yet you still act like a young boy at times." | |||||||||||||||
| Horace laughed. "Come, let's get you some food." They patted each other on the back and Horace began to pull Alexander towards a banquet hall prepared specifically for his arrival. As Alexander began to follow, he looked up to take in his surroundings and saw a woman dressed in a long black dress and hooded cloak standing at the top of the stairs. She wore a jeweled veil over her face, but he thought he could see her eyes shine through the dark mask and shadow. | |||||||||||||||
| "Horace, who is that?" He pulled Horace over and pointed as discreetly as possible, for it seemed as though the lady was staring directly at them. "Did a loved one of hers die? You know, is she in mourning?" | |||||||||||||||
| Horace laughed. "Oh, she's not in mourning. She looks like that practically every day. It's a shame, really; she'd look better in a different color and she wouldn't scare as many people off as she normally does." | |||||||||||||||
| "All right, but who is she? She seems to be staring at us." | |||||||||||||||
| "Well, she would be. She's trying to keep an eye on you to make sure you don't do anything rash." Horace laughed again, but that slowly died off as he saw the quizzical expression on Alexander's face. "The woman in black is my new High Priestess I wrote to you about. Her name is Chilandrea." | |||||||||||||||
| "That's your priestess? I thought priestesses wore white robes, gold jewelry, and were friendly and calm. She looks like the embodiment of evil only seen in children's stories! And you said she was beautiful." | |||||||||||||||
| "But she is beautiful." | |||||||||||||||
| "But why the veil? It suggests that her face is like that of a hag and she's afraid to display it." | |||||||||||||||
| Horace was laughing with all his might, doubled over in pain. "Dear Alexander, in the ways of women, you always were na�ve. Her explanation is this: most of the priestesses prefer to wear white because they like it and they believe it to be the proper way. Apparently, there is no rule about what color to wear, so she prefers to wear black. She thinks it influences respect (although I believe it influences fear). Her veil is to hide her beauty from the massive lust of the men that look on her. Remember I told you how full my hands were trying to keep them off her? It is a tedious job. But the veil is only out of fear for her beauty's power, not the fear of her hideousness. She's absolutely ravishing and is afraid of the consequences that may ensue." He looked at Alexander with a sly look to show that her beauty was certainly something to be reckoned with. "If you don't believe me you may speak to her yourself. But take heed; yesterday she tried to convince me to prevent your arrival because of some bad omen she claimed to see. I don't think she likes you. I decided that nothing of major consequence has ever happened in your presence and told her to forget it. You're my friend and you're staying." | |||||||||||||||
| "Wait, you're saying that this supposedly all powerful priestess told you that I would bring calamity with me to your kingdom and you told her to sod off?!?" | |||||||||||||||
| "Er... not exactly. I simply said that you had every reason to stay. She wasn't forceful in stopping me, so I thought it wasn't a very important matter. So... are you going to talk to her?" | |||||||||||||||
| "You just told me she had something against me -- that she doesn't like me -- and you expect me just to stroll up to her and talk to her? Why would I want to speak with someone who tried to stop me from visiting?" | |||||||||||||||
| Horace placed a friendly hand on Alexander's shoulder and directed him towards the stairs. "I think you might understand why once you see her. Come along." He directed his attention to the unmoving shrouded figure high above them, her gaze never shifting. She seemed to notice their approach and began to turn away when he called out to her. "Chilan--I mean Priestess Chilandrea! I'd like you to meet my dear friend, Sir Alexander of Wychdaerv!" | |||||||||||||||
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| On to the next chapter! Back to the start... |
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