The Journey Begins

Oothus had no idea where he was going or what he would find. All he knew is that he needed to leave the watchful eye of his father. No man could truly be a man if he was always being told what to do. The King had once been a great father to Oothus. The days had been spent as a young lad going on journey’s and hunts. He would sit at his father’s side and look up at him from the floor as he performed his kingly duties. Together they would sit in the council of the knights and discuss future strategies of war.

When Oothus was six his mother fell ill, all the court physicians tried their best. None, however, could determine what the problem was. The King ordered his knights to ride to the outer lands. The outer lands were wild and dangerous, but the knights brought in the best physician they could find from each province to try and help the Queen. Still, no one could help her. She grew graver with each day that passed. Oothus remembered curling up in her arms asking her to get better. His tiny arm would wrap around her chest and he would listen to her rasping breathing.

“Tell me a story Oothus.” She would rasp, laboring with each word. A tear would fall down his cheek and he would begin to tell one of the wild tales he had made up while wandering through the castle. Her heart beat would quicken at the sound of his voice. He would look up at her every now and then and she would be smiling despite her situation. Her hair was spread all over her pillow in long scraggly strands from not being brushed. The King had told the maids to leave her be when it began to hurt her to have the course comb dragged through her hair. Sweat beaded her forehead and brow. Her eyes were closed and ever few breaths he could see them squint in pain.

He continued his story one night late into the night. When he heard his mother drift into sleep he stayed next to her holding her close and listening to the steady rhythm of her heart beat. His father, thinking his son was in bed, was talking to someone outside the door and Oothus listened intently.

“We can’t, I won’t it goes against everything the kingdom of Azure has known and stood for.” He heard his father in a forceful whisper.

“But sire, he says he can help. He says he knows the cure,” answered a more timid voice.

“There must be another way. If they know the answer then surely there is an answer outside of their ways.”

“We’ve tried everything Sire.” There was silence for a few seconds and Oothus could imagine his father was giving the look he often gave to people who came to him and challenged his authority.

“I will not accept anything from those heathens in Faere. Magic is forbidden and that’s final.”

“Yes sire, I shall convey your answer.” One set of footsteps echoed away from the door.

Oothus let the tears stream down his face. He believed in his father but didn’t understand his decision to refuse help, no matter where it might come from. As the tears streamed down his face onto his mother blankets he drifted off to sleep. The next morning he awoke not remembering where he had fallen asleep the night before. The curtains had been drawn around the bed for warmth and to keep out the light. He could see the dim glow and soon recognized and remembered where he was. He looked up at his mother and the smile she usually wore when he was around was gone. However, so was the wince of pain that came as she breathed. Thinking her asleep he whispered to her a good morning, which normally made her stir a little. She didn’t move.

“Mother.” He said a little louder this time. Panic began to build in his throat. “Mother.”He spoke a little louder. “Mother.” He all but yelled. The realization hit him like a battle horse given the order to charge. He sobbed as he clung to her lifeless body. He yelled her name and cried until the servants outside heard the commotion and came running.

“Summon the master.” One of them yelled to the other. She pried him back from the lifeless body on the bed and held him to her bosom. She cradled him and ran her fingers through his hair as he fought her to let him go. All he wanted to do was hold his mother. Why had this happened?

The King entered and told everyone to leave at once. Oothus was carried away as he fought to be let go. The last time he saw his mother, he saw his father’s back to him. Hs father was kneeling next to the bed her hand in his. The door shut and he was taken to his chamber. Oothus lay on his bed. The maid was always at the side of the bed caring for him. He refused to eat, refused to talk to anyone. He lay there for 3 weeks. One day his father paid him a visit. This was the first time he had seen his father since the death of his mother. He didn’t understand why his loving father hadn’t come to him, and all the while anger was brewing in his little heart toward the man who refused to save his mother.

The door to the chamber opened and the King entered. He stopped at the side of the bed.

“You will get up. You will stop this episode and you will get up and be a prince. You have duties. Your duty to your kingdom is greater than you own feelings.”

Oothus looked up at his father. He no longer saw the kind; soft, just king that he once looked up to as he sat listening to him make decisions for the court.

“This was your fault. I heard you.” He wiped the tears from his eyes and made way for the anger that had been bubbling up inside him for weeks. “You could have helped her. You could have saved her.” His voice grew louder. “There was a cure and you said no! I heard you! I heard you! You killed her! It’s your fault” his rant was stopped abruptly by the back of his father’s hand on his cheek.

“You will hold your tongue and you will learn your place. You start training in the morrow. Not that I think a crying sissy like you will amount to much on the battle field.” His father spun on his heels. His cape whirled around him and he left the room.

The next day, as promised, Oothus began to train with Magwin. He began to think of Magwin more and more as a father and his father more and more as just a king as the years rolled by. The distance between his father and him grew vast. His father’s words echoed in his head daily. ‘Not that I think a crying sissy like you will amount to much on the battle field.’ He was determined to prove his father wrong.

***

Their footsteps echoed as Oothus and Barthus stalked together down the corridor, Oothus in the lead and Barthus trailing behind trying to keep up. The last stop they needed to make was the kitchen before they hit the stables. With each thing they gathered there was another question from one of the servants. Oothus became more frustrated with the questions each time one was asked. Soon his voice reflected his frustration.

“Where are you off to today sire?” came the sweet bubbly voice of one of the cooks.

“None of your business.” He retorted, “I shall not have to explain my affairs to the help.” He regretted it as soon as it was said but there was no taking it back now. He regretted this as he had always been known as a kind and just prince to all the people in the kingdom n no matter what status they held.

The air was cool. The brisk breeze that came with the sun as it crested the horizon gave the men a shiver. They approached the stable with haste. He hadn’t expected his father to care that he was gone but he also knew that the King might want to assert his authority and send someone after him. The sooner they left the larger head start they would have. Both men worked at saddling the horses. Oothus picked two of the fasted mares for the journey. They mounted the horses and walked them out the castle walls so as not to arouse suspicion with anymore around them. Once outside the walls and under the cover of trees Oothus kicked his horse and dirt kicked up from beneath its hooves. Barthus had no choice but to follow his masters lead. Together they rode hard, wind whooshing against their faces and stray branches whipping their cheeks.

***

The places had been set for formal dining in the large banquet hall in the center of the great tree. Roane had adorned the green velvet dress her mother had set out for her and pulled her hair back and up onto the top of her head. She was mesmerizingly beautiful though she wasn’t trying to be. She had not been looking forward to this dinner and refused to take any extra steps for the dolt of a man her parents had invited to dinner.

She entered the room and the Asrais fairies flew over and put a crown of flowers on her head. Her own wings were fluttering behind her. Fairy wings reflected the same color of their aura. Wings were and extension of the Fairy soul and you could glean a lot about other Fairies by the coloring in their wings. Only the most exported reader could glean all there was to see and over the year Fairies found ways of hiding the parts of their wings they wished others would not be able to see. Minor illusion charms soon became the norm around the kingdom and all the young fairies reveled in finding new ways to color their wings and make them unique. In the royal chambers, however, fairies wings could not be covered and a fairies true nature was open for display. Not many even remembered the art of wing readings anymore but Roane had found a book in her grandmother’s study that she had poured over for hours. It now adorned the shelves in her own quarters.

Another curious thing about fairy wings is that they cannot be seen by non-magical being unless a fairy chooses to reveal them. This gives Fairies the ability to hide among the human world with ease. Some fairies, born of one human parent, have even failed to learn how to extend and open their wings at all. They walk around oblivious to the fact that their wings sit there bound to their soul waiting to be released and their true powered revealed.

Roane’s own wings were a shade of brilliant yellow. The color was deep and rich and seemed to be feeding directly from her soul. The yellow color moved outward along her delicate and beautiful almost transparent wings. The color morphed to red as it reached the openings that appeared at various spots along the extensions. She had also learned that each placement of these voids was not by chance. No two fairies had the same wings. Each opening was like a celestial star chart opening up vast amounts of prophecy for those who wished to study them. Much like palm reading practiced by humans, the wings of a fairy had their own “fingerprint” so to speak. Roane had tried to read her own wings but failed many times. The brilliant and deep red color also surrounded the outer line around her wings. The bumps and valleys around the outer edge were then coated in the most elegant gold color that you could imagine. It was unusual to see gold in fairies wings, even among royalty. Her wings were the full length of her body and the shapes and symbols that showed up within them were detailed and beautiful. With each enlightenment, a fairies wings grew and changed.

A short slim fairy stood across the room as she entered. He bowed as she approached and she noticed his own wings. Bright pink in color, speckled with black throughout. They were extremely short and only extended from his body to cover his back. The detail on the wings was sparse. To the average fairy the wings looked regal and handsome but to Roane they showed a shallow man full of self love, speckled with unresolved karma, and lacking in enlightenment.

Roane approached the table and performed the expected pleasantries. She sat next to her mother and resigned herself to sit quietly and only speak when she was spoken to. She had no desire to get to know the man sitting across from her and had already formulated the plan to prevent the travesty from happening. The dinner was long and Roane watched the man across the table. Food fell from his lips to his chest and he talked with his mouth full. He was vile and Roane could not understand how her parents could expect her to marry such a man even if it would secure an alliance to help protect the kingdom. She was not a currency to be used!

That evening she returned to her room and grabbed the satchel that she had already prepared. She walked around the room letting her hands run along the spines of the books that had become her friends.

“Farwell my friends,” she whispered as a tear fell down her cheek. Her pack held a few of her cherished books as well as some she thought essential for a journey. She touched the wood of the great tree along the wall. “I need your help my friend,” a vine grew out of the wall and wound its way around her hand trapping her against the wall. “You don’t understand, but it must be done.” A tear fell from her cheek to the vine on her hand. As if the tree understood her pain it released her. A doorway opened up in front of her and she took one last deep breath and grabbed her staff before stepping through. The stairs appeared before her and closed behind her as she descended the tree. Her soft leather shoes moved quickly and silently, not that it would have mattered as she was completely hidden from anyone who might inquire. Lower and lower she descended until she began to wonder if she would ever be let out. However, just when she thought she could go no further downward a doorway opened up in front of her. She exited the door and came out into a large cavern. She appeared to be underground. The great tree must have deposited her in a secret tunnel at the base of its roots. It was dim and dark.

“Kalina Kanu Amin” she incanted, and the crystal on the end of her staff began to glow lighting up the cavern. On the far end she saw a tunnel. Looking around her there was nowhere else to go except forward. The stalactites shimmered with an element that she didn’t recognize and reflected the light from her staff. The element appeared to adorn the entire roof of the tunnel ahead.

***

It was one week from the first encounter. The fields of Shin’Tara were bright. The flowers were in full bloom. The wind swayed the grasses in the breeze as it looked down upon the fields. She waited for the two that had visited there a week earlier. The leaves at the end of the field began to rustle and she watched in anticipation for the stubborn man to appear. She was curious. However, instead of the young man, a squirrel scuttled out from under the bush. At the other end of the field the same thing seemed to be happening. The sun rose, travelled high in the sky again, and set in the evening. The fields were silent all day and neither the young girl nor man appeared.

Note to the reader: The world of Faeries is vast. At times you will see reference to the term Faerie and at other times you will see reference to the term Fairy. This is not indecision on my part I can assure you. The term Faerie or Faeries refers to all creatures of the Faerie world. This might include elves, dwarves, gnomes, pixies, and other such creatures. Thus the world of Faere is full of all kinds of mystical and magical beings. The term Fairy however, refers to the more traditional depiction of fairies in literature and history. Fairies are usually winged creatures. Some are small and some are human size. Some are referred to as angels and some as sprites. There are a vast number of fairy types. While doing my research I don’t find this as a necessary consistent view in the world of Faerie lore. However, I have chosen this depiction for my tale from the writings of Brian Froud whom I look up to and adore. If you’d like to read more about his work you may visit his website at http://www.worldoffroud.com/ . On a side note, inspiration for the fairies that choose to reveal themselves to me has come from the hours I’ve spent pouring over the work of Amy Brown. She is a talented and fantastic artist and I have some of her work in my own home. Her work can be seen at http://www.amybrownart.com/ .