November 2
Word Count: 3,142
Vyna climbed the steps to her grandfather’s house with trepidation. Everyone who was left in the village, only about a hundred now, was running about in a mad attempt at evacuation. Where they thought they were going, Vyna couldn’t guess. The Tree was dead and the storehouse had been emptied this morning. There would be no more calca, the small element which had given life to this village for so long. She herself had never tasted it. It wasn’t supposed to be allowed until you were of age, but mothers slipped it into their child’s soup, or fathers handed out candy filled in the center with calca to make their children grow strong and healthy. Those parents had unknowingly condemned their children to a short life. Once a person took calca, they had to continue taking it for life. That had been no problem, for it had grown abundantly on the Tree. There were great storehouses on the outskirts of the village that were filled to doorways with it. But now the Tree was lifeless and the villagers of Vilane had condemned themselves to a death of starvation.
Vyna was the only one in the village who had nothing to worry about… which had suddenly worried her. Without calca, the rest of the villagers would die within weeks. Every person she had known would be gone, even the only family she had left…her grandfather.
Vyna swung open the door that was only partially closed. Her grandfather had done no packing. He was sitting at his huge desk with a magnifying glass studying a book she doubted he could lift himself. He was old… perhaps three hundred. He’d never answered her exactly as to his birth. Vyna could see where the rationing had ravaged their effects on him. His normally raven black hair was speckled with grey and his high cheeks showed the dullness of age. He quite looked almost thirty. Without any calca at all, he would become like those who had starved themselves for their children. He would grow old at an alarming rate and then wither away to almost nothing.
The man who made walking sticks had created a booming business of canes, and the gravedigger had not stopped his work for many weeks, digging while his back was still strong, wanting the town to be prepared. Grave making in Vilane was a delicate job, as the people placed their bodies in and among the roots of trees, so that the trees which had given them life could be replenished.
“Grandfather, the villagers are leaving.”
“They’re idiots, all of them!” Her grandfather looked at her with a critical eye. “Now where do they think they’re going? We did it to ourselves you know. And I told them. ‘Don’t feed it to your children and they will live.’ Did they listen? No. You listened, didn’t you?” In a moment of panic he grabbed a strange tool from the shelf behind her and ran it around her head. Apparently satisfied by the results, he sat back down in his chair. Tears formed in Vyna’s eyes.
“What use will it be if I am alive and the rest of you are dead? What will I do? How will I live without you? I’ve never been outside the village. I don’t…”
“I have no intention of dying, Vyna,” he stated succinctly. Her heart leaped.
“You’ve found a cure?” Her grandfather was one of the town elders who had been searching for a way to save the village. He was the only one left.
“Not exactly a cure, more a temporary stay of execution.” He turned his attention and magnifying glass to a large, rather ugly necklace.
“Really? Should I go tell the villagers?”
“No, let them run around with their head cut off!” He motioned for Vyna to come closer. She approached and her grandfather drew her into a hug.
“What is that grandfather?” She asked as he drew away and picked up the necklace.
“Our salvation. And you are the only one who can save us.”
“Me? Why am I the only one?”
“Because you’re the only one who can follow directions. Put this on.” Her hands trembled as she worked the clasp. The necklace with the large blood red stone in the center felt heavy against her chest.
“But how will this save everyone?”
“It’s very simple. When the magic comes back and the calca begin to grow again, go to the City of
“What spell, grandfather?”
“This one.” Her grandfather took out of his pocket the last remaining piece of calca in the village and pressed it against the necklace. When she heard him speak, it was if he was speaking to her through water. The entire world became heavy and pressed against her. Vyna tried to breath, but bright stars flashed across her vision, coments of blue and green slashed through the blackness. Vyna felt herself drop and land on her back. She curled herself up and trembled uncontrollably.
Oh, get up, you’re perfectly all right, her grandfather said from above her.
Vyna took a deep breath and discovered that he was indeed right. The spell had not left her damaged. She opened her eyes and sat up. Leaves stuck to her back. She brushed them off and stood up.
The entire village was gone. The buildings, the people, the roads, the trash, the water tower, the dogs… everything. Only the trees and natural forest remained. Her grandfather had vanished everyone.
We’re
still here, you idiot girl, but I definitely want out of her as soon as
possible.
Oh
shut up you whining wind bag.
You
old goat, you should have asked us before you did this. This is unfair imprisonment.
And
you prefer death?
“Where are you?” Vyna shouted searching for her grandfather and the baker who belonged to the other voice.
We’re here, Vyna.
“Where?”
Technically in the necklace. But inside your head. And we’re staying that way until you can find a Great Mage to set us free, her grandfather explained.
I certainly don’t want to be crammed in here for that long, a voice complained, Vyna thought it was probably Ghut, the village gambler and general drunken lout.
“How do you think I feel having a village crammed into my head?”
Move! Go! Let’s get this over with! Several voices shouted at once.
“Which way?”
Go left, Ghut suggested.
No, I think right, the baker added.
Perhaps north, another voice replied.
Vyna sighed and began to walk. She didn’t go left, right, or north. She simply followed the path through the woods where the road used to lead out of the village. So much for following directions.
Bow drawn Lasser sprinted towards the great hall. True, Lynah tended to scream at nothing, but it was better to be safe than sorry. He turned the last corner and searched for a target and found none. Lynah was cowering in Trevelyn’s arms, Trevelyn was scowling at Saratin, and Saratin was grinning like a fool. Lasser lowered his bow.
“It worked,” Saratin exclaimed. “It worked exactly as he said it would!”
“What worked?” Lasser asked putting his arrow back in his quiver.
“Saratin just appeared out of nowhere. He scared the daylights out of Lynah.” Trevelyn stated.
“It was easy! I just closed my eyes, and pictured where I wanted to go and…” Saratin disappeared before he finished his sentence.
“Wasn’t that the trick that Nelyr was good at?”
“Where did he go?” Lynah asked peering out from Trevelyn’s arm.
Saratin reappeared. Lynah screamed again.
“I did it again! Twice,” Saratin exclaimed.
“Just don’t do it again!” Trevelyn stated as Lynah almost knocked her over. “It’s all right… it’s just Saratin.”
“But don’t you understand? He could be the key. The way to learn how our powers work. We can actually be useful.”
“He who?” Lasser asked, cutting off a piece of cheese from the table. His appetite was finally returning after his return trip with the Ladona Brothers.
“Master Geoi.”
“Isn’t he dead?”
“Yes, and no. He explained it. Technically I’m talking to myself, but since part of me is Geoi, part of me knows the answers. Just like part of you knows the answers. You just have to get in touch with that part.”
“I don’t follow you, Saratin,” Lasser said helping himself to a wedge of bread.
“Well, when the Great Mages died, they sent their essences, their spirits out to the next seven born children. That would be us. Think about it. We’re all the same age, exactly. So part of us knows the information, but that part has been locked away for so long, we’ve forgotten how to talk to it. But I just talked to Master Geoi and he taught me how to travel anywhere I want with practically no effort. The Great Mages will be able to help people again.”
“You spent too much time with the brothers,” Lasser replied, unmoved. He’d heard enough about the majesty and grace of the Great Mages to fill a lifetime. It was all the five brothers seemed to talk about. Lasser was quite glad that Saratin had asked him not to tell the brothers he was a Great Mage until after they reached Tamarin. He couldn’t have stood the bowing and scraping the knowledge probably would have engendered. He didn’t know if he felt up to the title of Master. It might be okay for Saratin, who had been brought up with that lifestyle of the Brothers, but for a forest ranger that spent most of his time working where no one but the trees noticed him, recognition and authority were not his strong suite.
Saratin finally noticed what he was doing. “Dinner is in less than two hours,” he warned, staring at Lasser’s compilation of food. “And we will have guests.” Lasser rolled his eyes.
“Pardon me if I enthusiastically decline. I’ve seen enough of the guests for a month, especially if you’ve told them about my being a Great Mage.” Lasser dumped the food into one of his pouches. Saratin stared at the floor.
“You haven’t told them yet, have you Saratin,” Trevelyn said.
“Well, I meant to…” Saratin trailed off and sighed.
“But they were too busy telling you how wonderful the Great Mages were,” Lasser finished his sentence for him. Saratin sighed again.
“I just. I just thought it would be better if we told them together,” Saratin’s enthusiasm over his new found powers had fizzled into a pleading puppy dog look. He wanted them to help him bare the brunt of the backlash.
“Did you say we were having guests?” Lynah finally decided to emerge. “Why this place is a disaster. We must prepare. We must have courses and table clothes and… Trevelyn you definitely must change. That dress is too old. I know, you can wear the new one. Go, go, go!” Lynah pushed at Trevelyn who through an apologetic look at Lasser and Saratin and followed her commands.
“I’ll see you at dinner. I look forward to meeting your friends, Saratin,” she called back as Lynah whisked her out the door.
“At least Lynah has something to do.” Lasser stated after the girls were out of earshot.
“She has been a bit…” Saratin began.
“Difficult? Annoying?”
“Lonely. She’s not used to living like this… with so few people.”
“Snult offered to bite her head off last month.”
“Right. I think that’s a bit drastic. And I know it’s a lot to ask, but I could use your support at dinner. They, they really,” Saratin shuffled his feet. “They don’t see me very seriously. I’m still an apprentice to them.”
“I bet that blinking trick will convince them rather quickly. Just promise me that if the wooly one gets on a tangent, you’ll blink me out too.”
“I thought I heard someone screaming. Is everything all right?” Iber stood in the doorway, late as usual. “Hello Lasser! I see you’re back.”
“Everything is fine. In fact we’re having guests for dinner,” Saratin explained.
“Right. Good news. Should be a splendid time. I suppose I should spiff up a bit.” Iber disappeared into the hallway.
“Right. Splendid time… he’s yet to meet them.”
“They aren’t all that bad, just a little over enthusiastic.”
“Well, we’ll put an end to that tonight I suppose.” With a wry smile, Lasser turned to head back to his own chambers. He could use a bit of spiffing up himself. Suddenly he remembered that he’d forgotten to tell Saratin about the dragons. He turned but found the hall empty. Saratin had already blinked himself mysteriously away.
“This one, I think,” Lynah said as she held up the fifth dress in front of Trevelyn. “Yes, this is it.”
“I don’t think we have to worry about impressing the brothers. After all, they’re Brothers… and we’re well, we’re Great Mages.”
“Silly, if it weren’t for me, you’d be contented to wear rags to dinner. We must make a good impression. If we don’t they shan’t want to serve us. We are their betters.”
“Their betters who have no idea actually to be better. Really Lynah. This could be disastrous whether or not I wear the right dress.”
“Well, the right dress won’t hurt things. Now, I really think we should have made Mitty stay here with us. She does turn a marvelous hem.” Lynah examined the dress in her hands.
“We can turn our own hems,” Trevelyn said taking the dress from her.
“Well, yes, but she was quite willing,” Lynah picked up the dress she’d picked out for herself.
“We are not her betters.”
“You have to admit we are definitely more well bred, and prettier.” Lynah stared at her reflection in the mirror, touching up a hair that had fallen out of place.
Trevelyn didn’t even feel like arguing with her today. Lynah as of late had been grumpy and short sided. Even though Lynah was her best friend, she was wearing even on her nerves as of late. Lynah needed attention. Trevelyn hadn’t noticed just how much attention she needed until there was no one but her to provide it. The others were beginning to avoid Lynah and Trevelyn for most of the day. Even Iber, who still seemed infatuated with the idea of a princess, was limiting his visits. He had begun to realize that Lynah had no real affection for him, or anyone of the male gender.
“Well, let’s get dressed and down to dinner!” Lynah said unbuttoning her dress.
Dinner was always a mysterious affair. They never knew what dish would be awaiting them in the kitchen. The food somehow appeared on the main counter, freshly prepared and piping hot. All they ever had to do was carry it in by the tray full to the table in the adjoining great hall. The magical kitchen always seemed to know how many people needed serving, and if the dishes were brought in and set out on the counter, they were mysteriously vanished and scoured away for the next meal. Trevelyn was always silently thankful for the convenience. Lynah had never washed a dish in her life, and if she was made to know, who knew what kind of commotion she would create.
After letting Lynah run a brush through her hair and tie it back with a ribbon, Trevelyn followed her to the great hall, which stood empty. It could probably five hundred diners, but tonight, there would only be ten. The two girls crossed the hall and entered the kitchen, which must have heard Lynah’s desire for tablecloths. Lying on the counter were service for ten, a bright yellow tablecloth, and four silver candelabra. Without pausing to marvel the appearance of such supplies, Lynah grabbed the stack of fine china plates and silverware and handed them to Trevelyn. She grabbed the tablecloths and a candelabrum and headed out to the hall.
“Do you think we should sit on the dais for a change? It is a special occasion,” Lynah wondered aloud.
Trevelyn stared at the great and pompous platform that stood at one end of the hall. “Perhaps not. I think only the Great Mages sat up there and it may seem strange if five of us are up there and the other five down there.”
“Right. Then we should save it for when we have more than just five guests.” Lynah walked down the rows of table until she was in the direct center of the hall. She placed the candelabrum on a bench and began to spread out the tablecloth. Trevelyn held her tongue yet again. Usually they sat and ate at the table closest to the kitchen to avoid carrying the trays so far. Trevelyn supposed Lynah thought that sitting in the center of the huge room would impress their guests. Trevelyn also supposed Lynah had no intention of being the one carrying the trays to the table.
They set the table with minimum chatter and Trevelyn went back to the kitchen while Lynah inspected her nails. The counter was piled high with aromatic delights. A full turkey was stuffed to the brim with bread crumbs, a bowl of mocca berries sat nearby. Beautifully shaped bread rolls teemed in a basket and a plate of butter sat between it and a bowl full of brown rice. A huge platter of perfect fruit lay next to a similar one of steaming vegetables. No one would go hungry tonight. In fact, they’d probably leave the table as stuffed as the turkey was now.
Trevelyn picked up the fruit tray and headed for the center of the hall. Just as she sat it down on the table, Iber arrived.
“I’m not late, am I?”
“No, in fact, you’re a bit early, but that just gives you an opportunity to help me,” Trevelyn stated, not giving him a chance to sit down and get comfortable, leaving her to be the only one fetching food.
“Your Highness, you look splendid. And you’ve outdone yourself with the setting of the table.” Iber made a grab for the grapes on the top of the platter, but Trevelyn shooed him away.
“Well, Iber made the dress, and the kitchen made the table… so if you wouldn’t mind.” Trevelyn grabbed his sleeve and pulled him toward the kitchen. Years of dealing with Lynah’s suitors who very seldom paid any attention to her made her quite an expert at bossing them into doing what she wanted. He followed her gentle tug and flashed a brilliant smile at Lynah.
Out of Lynah’s earshot, Trevelyn commented, “You don’t have to encourage her, you know.”
“What do you mean? I was simply being polite.”