The Story Lady

The below story is a rough draft in progress:

In the center of the ring, there were two golden circular hoops spinning on their sides

Golden

 

 

 

Chapter 1:

 

Mesmerized by the light that reflected and flashed, and entranced by the constant spinning, the child sat cross-legged in front of the white chalk ring that had been drawn on the floor.   Two face-sized golden circular hoops spun on their sides in the middle of the chalk ring.   The child had been sitting there for days.

 

            “Sire, the child will not move.  We have called all the physicians, wizards, and anyone of any note that may release the child from the spell, but none have been able to break the spell or dissuade the child from this pursuit.”

 

            “Have you brought in the strong men to move the child, Polaris?”

 

            “Yes, and the child cannot be moved.  There is magic here.”

 

            “Sire, may I ask what interest you have in this child?  Is this child not a stranger to you?”   Ten other people were in the room with the child: Polaris, the Sire,  the child’s parents, the child’s three brothers, and a five members of the Sire’s entourage. 

 

            “Yes.  I was visiting my friend in the palace up on the hill.  We came to the market one day to purchase treasures for my family as gifts for my return to my kingdom.  The woman of this house came out into the dusty market, screaming and pulling her long brown curly hair.  Having children, myself, and, understanding her distress, I asked Polaris, here, to look  into what could be done, and witnessed the child last week, exactly the same as I see the child today.  Nothing has changed.  The child has not eaten, but has not grown thin or weak.  The child has not wet itself nor fallen asleep.”

 

            One of the servants of the house poked his head around the corner and whispered in the silence:  “I think I know someone who might help.”

 

The Sire, Lounge Goodinhale, having the most delicate ears, and trained to observe the most slightest of vibrations and sounds, not only had heard the servant, but the shyness in the voice, as the golden hoops sung.  Only he could hear the singing of the hoops.  That is one of the reasons he entered  the house, to discover the origins of the most melodiest tones he had ever heard.

 

“Who could then help, Good Servant?”

 

The servant politely entered the room, bowing slowly as the light from the arched window shown behind the child who remained sitting on the floor in front of the hoops.

 

“I am Hatalie of the Chromos Tribe from across the Great Ocean.  The Natura is the only one that can help.”

 

“Why do you think this “Natura ” could help?”

 

“The hoops.  They came as a gift for the child’s tenth birthday from a far off land with no note as to who had sent the gift.  The rose in the corner, that was beginning to bloom when the child spun the hoops, has not yet bloomed.  The room, even at night, shows the sun shining through the window behind the child’s back in the same place as it is now.  You are right, Sire, nothing…NOTHING has changed in this room at all except for the movement of others in and out.”

 


“You are most wise, Hatalie.  Please call me, Lounge, and do not bow from now on.  You will no longer serve the House of Sosna, nor will your people.  You have done more than all the physicians, wizards, and strongmen of the land have done in the past week.  None of them observed as much as you have.  You have observed more than myself, who rules a land, and more than Polaris, who is my most wisest of men.  I would have you journey with me back to my home where I will make peace with my family who expected me back before now, and we will then procure a ship to sail to your land to find your “Natura” who I believe is a person of some sort whom we can bring back with us to solve this puzzle.  If you are agreed, I will make plans with the Lady Sosna of this house, and set up an account to provide for your family while you are gone.  Are you agreed?”

 

“I am most honored, Sire…Lounge,” Hatalie corrected his bow and speech at the same time.  His family had always served others.  It was their natural born gift as it had been spoken to his father’s father’s father as a child.  It was also foretold that they would leave the lands of Bliss and Chromos to come to strange lands, in which they would serve far away from any of their own kinsmen.  Hatalie’s Grandfather had been exiled and sent adrift on a long fisherman’s sail ship as a young man because he had spoken against the  new line of Natura’s that had stolen the name from the natural heirs and attempted to kill off the rightful Natura line.    His Grandfather had been given a locket and a woven blanket from the last known true Natura, secretly, the night he was set adrift.  She told him his line would be returned to their lands someday, and these gifts would be needed.  Because of his Grandfather’s bravery and punishment, The Natura would honor the family and the lands of Bliss and Chromos once again.  Hatalie had heard about magic beyond the lands in which he currently lived, but thought they had just been fairytales, but the spinning golden rings had been a tale his Grandfather had told him as a young boy.  He hadn’t remembered until it had been too late, and the child had her soul sucked from her body.  He felt guilty for not believing or remembering the old tales of his Grandfather, who he had dismissed as a foolish old man who had lost his mind.  He had not believed in his differences, or himself.  Hatalie had dreams of unknown lands and people who looked more like him than the people of the land of Goshonons or Goodinhales or Borons.    Not anyone from any land he had encountered had the golden skin of the Chromos.  He had denied his own strangeness because he had always wanted so badly to fit in.  Why could he not have inherited his sisters white milky skin that was like his mother’s and his grandmother’s?  All the women had the white milky skin of the Goshonons, but the men had golden skin.  He had tried to wash it off as a young child, and had tried creams, ointments, and cosmetics, but nothing hid the golden skin.  The house of Sosna had the charcoal skin of the Borons, and he had admired the richness and depth of the blackness of their skin.  He had told his friends that he had been in an accident, or had caught a strange disease that had turned his skin gold, or that he had crossed a witch once, and she had cursed him this way, but none was the truth.  He had begun to believe the stories himself until the golden rings had appeared and  captured Catalie.

 

He had struggled with speaking up, because of his guilt, and disbelief of himself then waited for a good time to offer what he could.

 

The Sire was a sensitive and intuitive man.  Hatalie would follow him, and serve in anyway he could.  He would have to try to remember his Grandfather’s stories and language.  Hatalie was no longer a young man.  He had family and children of his own.  His father had passed across the Great River the year before.  There was no one to help him remember, and no one else to go.

 

Hatalie had helped bring the precious Catalie safely into the world.  She had been full of a brilliance since her birth, and had been strangling in the cord when Hatalie had saved her.  Lady Sosna was so grateful, especially after three boys, she named the child after herself and Hatalie.  The child had brought much delight to the house and the neighborhood, and so much more to Hatalie’s troubled heart.  Sometimes, he feared he favored her more than his own children.  Hatalie had five golden boys, and two milky white girls.

 

*                                                                                   *                                                                                   * 

 

Outside the house of Sosna, the street was dusty orange.  The wind blew the soft clay powder around the tops of the chimneys.  There were stucco buildings of white or older homes that had been lightly colored by the dust that looked more brown or orange now.  Across the street, there were more tightly packed tall stucco homes.  The street was large enough across for carts and wagons two horses wide to travel down in one direction.  The street opened up to the hub of life for the city, the open air Marketplace with multicolored canvases hung randomly above the streets to protect from the sun and rain.  The amber light of Fall glinted through the canvas openings in the Marketplace, but the light that came through the window in the front room of the house of Sosna remained the same as a bright white burning summer’s day. 

 

The long journey to the land of the Goodinhales was just beginning.  The Sosna’s had trouble replacing their Good Servants, Hatalie Chrosmosal and his family.   Hatalie had some difficulty departing from his wife and children on the warm fresh Fall day.  His youngest boy, Chrisopal, would not let go of his leg.  His oldest boy, Dant stood proud, and said, “I will be the man of the house, father.  I will watch and protect over our family.  Come now, Chriso, father has a mighty serving duty to perform.”  His wife had hugged and cried and said, “What are we to do now?  We no longer have the purpose of serving.  What are we to do?”

 

“We have been over this, Lounge has bought this Chrosmosal  Inn House for you to take in patrons for overnight stays, to feed, and care for strangers.  We are still fulfilling our purpose, just in a different action.   Lounge has left one of his wisemen and one of his strongmen to assist  you, to protect you, and for you to serve.  You have your beautiful embroidery to sell through the market place, the children have school, and will help you with the serving.  You will be so busy you won’t even remember my name.  You will come home one day from the Marketplace, and I will be waiting for you.  Dant will say,  “Some man named Hatalie is here to see you,” and  you will say, “Hatalie?  Hatalie who?”  You see, I am the one that will be lost without you.  What will I do?”  Hatalie had said the last part  mimicking the voices of his Dant and his wife and gesturing comically in an attempt to lighten his wife’s heart.  She smiled and turned her back to him.  His children did the same, all standing in the street in front of their new home and business.  This was a tradition of the Chrosmosal that Hatalie had remembered.  Loved ones never watched each other leave.  You say goodbye and turn your back.  When Hatalie returned, he would have to touch on their backs and say, “You see, I have never really left you.  I have been just right over your shoulder this whole time.”

 

 Hatalie wore white puffy cotton pants and a long dusty orange canvas shirt lined with white silk that went to his knees with slits up the sides to his hips.  His brown leather boots came up halfway to his knees.  His hair was short and an odd shade of dark brown.  He had a white canvas pull string bag with some belongings, the locket , and the blanket.  He climbed on the coach that carried Lounge and left the streets of the only home he had ever known.  He would travel with Lounge to his homeland  of Goodinhale which was by the Great Sea and on the other side of Goshonon.  Goshonon lay between Boron and Goodinhale.  Goodinhale was the only City that had ships of any kind.  They did not travel far.  They may travel to Cypia or Takus, and Lounge told Hatalie a story of the furthest land yet discovered by his sailing ships.  It was an Island five days journey by sea from Takus…heading towards the sun.  They had called the Island  Grasshoppia.  “But I’m sure you will see the land for yourself on our journey,” Lounge said as he sliced some apple and handed Hatalie a piece on his golden curved knife.  “Do you think your ships are large enough for longer journeys?  I am not sure how far the land of Chromos is from Goodinhale…and if you have not yet discovered it yet, it must be far.”  “I have sent a man ahead, and a large ship, the largest ever built, is now under construction in Goodinhale.  I have my best builders and seamen on the project.  I will be staying at home for awhile.  My wife would not let me go otherwise, and we will need to get provisions and find some baring through the stories you are remembering for Polaris.”

 

“Did you not say that your Grandfather told you a story of landing in Goodinhale, marrying a kindly woman there, then traveling to Goshonon, he lived there for a year serving a family until your father was born.  The Goshonon family wanted nothing to do with children, so they moved to Boron where your Grandfather had acquired a position with the Sosna family, and your family has followed their line ever since.”

 

“Correct.” 

 

“If your Grandfather landed in Goodinhale, that is the most likely place to start from.   Did he say whether he traveled toward the sun or away?”

 

“I believe it was away from the sun and the night triangle of Satus…as he called it.  He traveled towards a star cluster in the sky that looked like a leaf…no a tree…that was it…a tree.  These things are hard to remember.  Sometimes he spoke in other words.  Another language.  He said that on Chromos, the language was moot.  Everyone understood…no matter the formation.  I wish I could remember more.”

 

“The journey is just beginning.  We are not even to the outskirts of Boron.  Do not push yourself.  Remember when you can.”

 

 

The day was full of the bumping on the road, discussions of ship building and trees in the sky, stops for relief, and food. 

 

On the first stop, Hatalie felt like the world was trying to throw him off its back.  He could barely stand on the land that he knew so well.  He had never ridden in a coach before.  His hand reached out for the nearest tree to steady himself.  He needed to relieve himself terribly, but he had to wait until he could stand strong.   He finally found his legs again, and urinated against the tree he had been leaning on.  The trees were different and the land curved up and down into hills of green grass.  The leaves of the trees turned golden in the light, and creatures hopped about underneath the trees.

 

When he rejoined the others, they were setting a blanket on the ground to sit on.  Polaris was picking some sticky flowers at the base of a tree.

 

“Join us for a glass of wine and some bread, Hatalie,” Lounge pronounced.  He was a King.   Lounge was known for his compassion and intuition.  Lounge’s Grandfather was a war monger.  Lounge had learned peace from his father, who still lived and had abolished war.  He had retired to Takus, and had left the Kingdom of Goodinhale to Lounge. 

 

Hatalie joined Lounge on the stark white blanket and grabbed a glass of golden wine.  “Why is it so hard to walk on this land?” 

 

“Oh, you are not accustomed to riding in a coach.  It will be the same on the ship, but more so.  It is due to the rocking of the coach.  The Great Sea rocks the boats much more.  Many men cannot travel on the sea.  It makes them sick.  You will need to become accustomed to such travel for our journey.”

 

“This is most unusual,”  Polaris interrupted.  Polaris was a great man.  He was famous all over the known world for his writings and teachings.  He had discovered healing herbs and advances in counting.  He had written books about man’s role in the universe and had figured how to grow things where nothing would grow, but was most famous for his rhyming tales and for being the most excellent player of the lute.  He was a man of many talents and of great wisdom.  He had also been Lounge’s best friend since the days before they wore long pants.

 

“This plant with the bright yellow flowers blooms all year and is sticky to the touch.  I have begun to study this plant.  I have tested it for poison, and it is edible and tastes very sweet.  Would you both mind digesting some for the journey so I may see what other attributes it may effect?  I assure you, it will have no ill effects.  It may actually be beneficial.  I will partake of some myself as well.”

 

“I must warn you against my friend, Polaris,” Lounge said as servants poured more wine into their glasses and washed their feet, and rubbed their backs.  “He always finds something interesting to busy himself with.  The universe is such a vast place.  He wants to discover as much of it as possible before his time passes.  You will rarely see Polaris sitting still.  I believe that he cannot.  He also will use his friends most highly in all his thoughts and experimentations.”  Lounge laughed loudly as he played with his friend.

 

Hatalie felt uncomfortable sitting and being served.  He felt he should be doing something.  The great honor was his to serve such a great King, but he had yet done nothing.  He felt useless.

 

“Baah.” Polaris replied to his good friend and King as he had often done.  “My friend would let you think I am the only one with any faults.”

 

“You see, Hatalie.  Polaris already counts you as a friend.  He makes friends very easily.  I should take that as an affront, should I not?  Look at how he speaks to his King…I should hang you!  Should I not?”  Lounge laughed loudly again.

 

“If he would only hang me.   Every other day he swears he will hang me for some imagined offense.  He only knows how I love him.  I could have married many times, except for my dedication….”

 

“…to my Lord and Master.”  Lounge finished Polaris’ sentence for him.

 

“You two…you are like an old married couple.”  Hatalie spoke and blushed for speaking his mind.  “Pardon my words.  That was rude of me.  I do not know what came over me.  Do forgive me.”

 

The other two fell silent and looked most ominously at Hatalie.   Hatalie felt the weight of their stares.  He was so ashamed of his act.  His heart raced, and he could not speak.  He hid his face.

 

He heard laughter.  “You would not be the first to state such a fact.”  Polaris said as he laughed in a most hearty base laughter.  He could barely speak.

 

“You are truly our friend now.  You have jested with us, and we have played with you back.  This will be very important on our long journey.

We shall be friends.”

 

“But I am a servant.  I am beneath both of you.  I cannot be a friend.  A true friend that jests must be family or an equal.  I am not your equal.”

 

“Every man is equal to each other.  There is no difference.  Each man has his own gift to offer to the balance of life.  You will have to learn that you are our equal, but there is a chain of command, especially on a quest.  But that chain is still to be determined.  I am King, but that does not mean I know best in every situation.  I only decide who does know best, that is one of my greatest gifts.   That is how I knew you were meant to help us solve this problem.  You may be the one to lead this adventure.  You must find your gifts and bind them with ours.”

 

“I will try, Sire…Lounge,”  Hatalie replied, but then grew silent.  He had never viewed himself as equal to anyone.  He was different.  Everyone always seemed better than him, everyone else deserved the best of life, and he was lucky for anything he had attained.  His thoughts grew deep as he climbed aboard the coach again.  

 

Lounge and Polaris recognized the look of concentration and left Hatalie to his own musings as they looked at maps of the known world.

 

Hatalie remembered his Grandfather.  His Grandfather had told him the same thing.  “Do not think that you are less than others because you serve.  You are equal to others.  Because you have the gift and capacity to serve others well, you may be better than others in some aspects.  You know how to listen, you know how to hold onto your thoughts, you have patience others can not understand, and you observe life more keenly and respect it more.  Sla Wa Tu Ka.  It is the gift.  Don’t want what others have.  Cherish what is.”

 

Hatalie had never respected his Grandfather.  He had blamed his Grandfather for his own feeling that he did not belong to this world.   He had blamed his Grandfather for the golden skin.  He now saw that his Grandfather was not a man full of dreams and fairytales, and he was not a man cursed with a mind disease.  He had not believed in his Grandfather.

 

How could he feel equal to anyone?  He must try.  He must try for the good of all.  He could only truly serve well if he felt equal to others.  He tried to reason how he was equal to Lounge and Polaris.  Then he remembered what Lounge had said.  He was the only one who had noticed that nothing at all had changed in the room, and Lounge’s greatest gift was to know who was best for the job, and Lounge had chosen Hatalie.

 

Hatalie’s deep thoughts and the rocking of the coach made him drowsy, and he soon fell asleep on the soft pillows inside the coach.

 

The coach rocked and bumped along the road.  The inside of the coach was a flat bed of pillows of silk, satin, and cotton all piled together.  The colors were bright and vast as the colors of rainbows.  Polaris would often burn one of his herbs on the edge of the window of the coach so the coach would fill with a sweet soothing smell, as the smoke wafted through from one window to the windows on the opposite side.  The windows were covered with brown canvas that was laced with white satin and carried the Goodinhale emblem:  a large red flower with thorns and blood dripping from one of the thorns, and two white feathers on either side of the flower.

 

Hatalie dreamt of his wife.  He was looking for her.  He wanted to touch her, to smell her, to hold her in his arms and kiss her thoroughly.  He wanted to feel her behind nestled in his lap and see her bright eyes, and touch her long soft hair.  He ran through the streets of Boron searching her out, but she was no where to be found.  There was no one in Boron.  The streets were empty, and the sky was red.  A woman with white hair and golden skin walked past him like the wind.  She turned and smiled at him.  He wanted to make love to her.  He wanted to make love to some woman, any woman.  He began to follow the woman around a corner, but she was gone.

 

The coached bumped hard, and Hatalie woke up. 

 

“Oh, we are awake now,”  Polaris said as he looked up from a book.  He marked his place in the book with a piece of animal skin that looked like rabbit.  “I thought I would catch up on some writing while you two snoozed.  I had the oddest feelings.  I was thinking that Hatalie was very attractive, and that it was too bad he was not a woman.  I had the oddest sensation of wanting to make love to someone.  It was hard for me to concentrate on my writing trying to categorize this sticky yellow flower.”

 

“I had the strangest dream,” Lounge said as he rubbed his eyes.

 

“You snore most horribly.  I’m surprised you did not wake Hatalie.”

 

“I do not snore.”

 

“You do too, but nevermind that…what was your dream?”

 

“I was at home with Eileen.  We were in bed having the most wonderful sex I have ever had.  We made love all day and all night, and I didn’t get tired, and neither did she.  She finally begged me to stop, but I couldn’t.  We stopped to eat, and we took a bath together, and I made love to her in the bathtub.  There were candles all over the room, but they didn’t glow yellow or golden, but they glowed red.  It was the oddest dream.”

 

Hatalie told the others of his dream, telling himself in his mind the whole time that he was their equal and could impart such a dream to them, because, he was their equal.

 

“We all tried a few pieces of the sticky yellow flower.  I believe one of the attributes of this sticky yellow flower is to heighten the libido.  Was there anything else?”

 

“No.  But I don’t think I want any more of that flower until I see Eileen again.”

 

“Are you giving up so soon, Lounge?  There may be other attributes that have not had a chance to show themselves yet.  How can I study things if you give up before I’ve barely begun?  You will not give up on me, Hatalie, will you?”

 

“I must apologize, but I agree with Lounge.  Without my precious wife, I would not dare walk near that flower again.”

 

“Well, I must continue on my own.  I would not trust giving it to the guards or anyone else in Lounge’s entourage.  They are all horny enough as it is.  I don’t want them losing their minds and taking us off course so they can find women.  You two were the only ones I could truly observe.

I am most disappointed, and now I will begin to mope, but must write these observations down, so if you would excuse while I become self absorbed.”

 

“Is he always so blunt?”

 

“Yes, but he is partially joking.  He does not blame us and only mocks his pout to play with us.  But he will become totally self absorbed in his work.  Nothing else exists at this point for him.”

 

“Do you often have to have someone watch out for him while he works so nothing harms him?”

 

“Yes.  That is a most understanding comment.   You have sensitivities that you deny yourself, I believe.  You have a gift to see what is needed and what is there.  Tell me, is there anything else you remember about your Grandfather that might help us find the Land of Chromos and this Natura?”

 

“I have this blanket and locket.”

 

“May I see them?”  Hatalie passed the locket to Lounge.  

 

“Why, this piece here opens up.  It looks like some sort of compass.”

 

It was true.  When the locket was opened horizontally, it could then be opened vertically.  A three dimensional delicate lattice work of golden arms and levers and swinging pendulums appeared in miniature, no larger than Polaris’ thumb nail.  For the first time, he looked up from his own work to view the beauty that was before him, and he spoke, “What marvel is this?”  As if answering Polaris, a light shown brightly towards the heavens filling the traveling coach for a few moments then silenced itself in darkness.

“It is certainly a compass.  May I see the locket?”  Polaris reached his hand toward
King Lounge, who dropped the strange jewelry into his hand.

“Do you know what the symbols shown in the horizontal view of the locket might mean?”  Polaris looked at Hatalie who was still stunned by the locket’s revelations.   “No.  I don’t know.”  He had possessed the locket since his father’s death, and had seen it on many occasions before then in his grandfather’s withered, crackled, and fading gold hands.  His father had left the locket in a box in his desk drawer, and that is where Hatalie had left it as the desk had passed into his hands.  He remembered his Grandfather saying something about the links in the chain of the locket.  “Links in the chain and the symbols inside the locket will one day bring us home.  That is what the Natura said.  There is a secret when all is unfolded…but what, What!?  The blanket will protect and keep warm the true believers.  Follow the light…follow the light…but I did!  I did!  Toos loo tal kat bad tak…toos, toos ….toos.”  The Grandfather would babble on like that often making no sense to his son or the grandchild that looked like him.  Hatalie now knew the Grandfather’s words had meaning, but he could not understand how the words fit together and made sense.  If he would have only asked the Grandfather more questions, perhaps he could truly serve now.  Instead, he had humored the old man only in the belief that his mind was already gone.

“Let me see the blanket,” Polaris reached his hand towards Hatalie who supplied the blanket for them.

“Hmmm….interesting patterns.  Hmmm.”

“Can you remember anything that was told to you about these objects besides that they were given to your Grandfather by the Natura as he was exiled from your homeland?”
King Lounge inquired as he touched and examined the ends of the blanket that Polaris was now observing through a large glass.

“Actually, I was thinking of the times I had seen the locket, and some of my memories of the Grandfather.  Perhaps, if I share the words with you, they may make some sense to you.  I think I understand part of it, but the rest is muddled.”

As Hatalie spoke, Polaris had placed a small corner of the blanket into a glass box with the rest of the blanket hanging out where the top and the bottom of the box met.  The box had a fingernail sized hole in the top.  Polaris began to pull various vials from his case and began to pour the liquids over the corner of the blanket in the box. 

Lounge and Hatalie watched Polaris intently as Hatalie told what he remembered.   Steam rose from the box, a blue haze, flame, even lightening seems to be held within the box.  When Polaris was done, the corner of the blanket remained unchanged by any of his liquids.

“Amazing!  Even some of our strongest armor cannot withstand the purple liquid!  This special box I have for testing is the only other substance that can withstand all the liquids, but there is one that will even eat through the special ingredients I have formed the box from.  The ingredients are very hard to find.  I only have four of these boxes left out of the ten.  Many men lost their lives to get the key ingredients to make the boxes.  The liquid that eats through the box is back in Goodinhale in crystal form.  If it is heated, it is most deadly.  I would like to try it on the blanket once we reach Goodinhale, with your permission.”

“I would be most honored.”  Hatalie replied.

“Now, the links in the chain are different shapes separated by perfect rounds.  If we understood the symbols, they would probably tell us how to reach your homeland.  Do you remember anything about the symbols?” asked Polaris again.

“I am getting weary.  Can I rest for awhile?”  Asked Hatalie.

“We may not need the symbols.  If we can follow the light from the locket to Hatalie’s homeland, we don’t need to understand the symbols, do we?” Asked
King Lounge.

“I think they may give us clues into the traveling.  They may reveal things that may be helpful on our journey.  It is hard to say.” Replied Polaris.

 

“Well, it seems that the blanket is not part of a map for the journey.  It is for protection against something.  Hatalie’s Grandfather’s words ring true.  We should try to discover the meaning of the symbols.  Perhaps, after a rest, we can work together to try to determine their meaning.” King Lounge pronounced.

Hatalie and
King Lounge fell asleep once more, but Polaris could still not sleep.  He wrote down the symbols inside the locket in his book, removed the locket from the chain and laid the chain straight across his page.  He tried viewing the symbols in a mirror, testing mathematical equations against the symbols, reorganizing the symbols in different orders, using the symbols as picture translations as some of the older languages once were based, but nothing came to any sense.

King Lounge dreamed he was standing on the bow of a great ship, the sea was gently misting his face on a bright and calm summer’s day.  The sun was like a huge warmly glowing orb on the water behind them.  No land was in sight, but he sensed a calm and a sure belief that the path was clear and that the Natura would help them in ways they had not dreamed.  He suddenly found himself back at the Sosna house, where Catalie sat in front of the spinning rings.  The rings grew larger and larger until they were as tall as a man from the hills.  All the time, someone was laughing very loudly, with a gurgling, and huffing.  The laughter echoed around him.  He turned and turned and turned to see who was laughing, but could not find him.  He heard a woman scream, then he was screaming himself.  The voice said, “You can only see the rings, and soon, I will have your soul too, and the rest of you will also be frozen in time.  You cannot escape me!”  Lounge Goodinhale saw the young man who began laughing again.  He was leaning against a strange tree.  His skin was golden, like Hatalie’s, but his nose, mouth, eyes, and ears were dark green.  His hair was a common brown, and strikes of a brighter gold where etched in crooked double lines against his cheeks and forehead.  “Come, I dare you!  Find me!  You will never leave!  You will be my servant, my slave, our Good-in-hale King!  Ha!”  The man didn’t seem to know that Lounge could see him.  Lounge could see the man and handfuls of creatures similar to the man about half his size.  Lounge assumed the smaller creatures were children.   One of the creatures closest to Lounge turned and stared straight at him and put her finger to her lips and shook her head from side to side.  Lounge woke up.

Hatalie dreamt of swirling symbols and food.  He was hungry.  The symbols swirled and swirled and swirled.  His Grandfather appeared before him babbling, looking down, and walking in circles in the air.  Hatalie reached out, but could not touch him.  “The Grandfather, what do you mean?  What can you tell me?  What are you trying to tell me?  Can you help me Grandfather?”

“Natura, Natura, Natura…talk to them.  Sing to them.  Feel them.  Whisper.  Symbols and words are unnecessary.  The meaning is in your heart.  Translations are not necessary.  We all just knew what someone meant.  Words and symbols were too small for most true meanings and true believers.  What’s the point?  What’s the point?  Home is so far away.  Too far away.  I will never be able to just be silent again.  To just sing to hear nothing but the note.  How it drifts on the air and fills the void in the hollow.  There is so much nonsense and noise.  Why can I not hear the song of the wind?  The sun sits on the ocean, glowing with warmth, and filling the horizon, but the wind has died.  Soo din.”

“Grandfather, what does it mean?”

 

The Grandfather stopped his pacing and ranting and turned silently to Hatalie.  He put his finger to his lips and shook his head from side to side.  Hatalie awoke.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 2:

 

 

Hatalie looked through the long glasses at the edge of the rock canyon.  Polaris had sent the soldier to the place where the crystal could be heated to form the substance that could burn through their best armor.   Polaris stood by with his medical equipment at  ten paces back from the soldier.  Hatalie and Lounge stood on the cliff of the canyon looking down through the long glasses at the experiment.  It was as if they were standing next to the soldier, but they were far away, safe from any danger. 

 

The soldier held the blanket in his hands.  He was wearing the best armor, and knew he might lose his hand, or maybe his life, but he was sworn to follow orders and risk his life for the brotherhood of soldiers and for the Kingdom of Goodinhale.  He was afraid. 

 

An indentation in the rock had been made ages ago.  The crystal had been placed in the rock, and the rock had been slowly heated.

 

The soldier dipped his armor and blanket clad hand into the deadly liquid.  He held it there as Polaris counted to ten. 

 

The soldier was amazed.  He had watched others perform the experiment with armor, and the liquid had taken off their hands and the armor within a second.  The men had screamed in agony and dropped to their knees.  Some men had pulled their hands from the liquid in jerking motions and splashed liquid all over themselves, perishing from the exposure.

 

The soldier knew his great act of heroism would be honored with a space on the ship that would travel to far off lands.  This was his greatest dream.  He would have a name to his King now.  He would no longer just be “soldier”.  His family would be honored, and he would be part of the court of wonders. 

 

He was careful when removing his hand from the liquid.

 

He walked to the basin of water and dipped the blanket in the water, and released it from his hand.  He removed his arm and hand armor, then his gloves and rolled up his sleeves, he waved his hand to the great ones standing on the cliff above him.

 

He had completed each move as he had been told to do by the great Polaris.  A cheer arose from the onlookers.

 

Polaris stepped over to the blanket and touched the spot, gently, where the man had covered the blanket with the deadly liquid.  It was as it had been before.  Nothing could damage the blanket.

 

“Soldier, what is your name?”

 

“I am Gronchel Lelarian.”

 

“You are not compelled to follow what I say now.  You are already honored and placed within the court of wonders and allowed to travel to far lands with your King, but would you do one more thing?”

 

“Yes, Master Polaris, what shall you wish of me?”

 

“You must call me, Polaris, only.  Gronchel, the blanket is not only said to protect, but to keep warm.  Would you surround yourself completely with the blanket?”

 

“Yes, Polaris.”

 

Gronchel Lelarian, now spoken, wrapped the blanket around himself, he felt warm, and light, as if he were floating through the air.  He realized he was.  Polaris was stammering and yelling, but Gronchel had wished a closer view of his King, and was floating above his King on the non-land side of the cliff.  He did not know how.  The look on the King’s face was one of horror and disbelief.

 

His mouth moved, but Gronchel could not hear the words.  He moved to the land side of the cliff, and rested on the ground.  The Golden man who had come from Boron last week with Polaris and the King turned around as if he had heard Gronchel rest his feet on the ground.

 

“Did you hear that?”  Gronchel could hear Hatalie speak as clearly as if Hatalie had whispered the words in Gronchel’s ear.

 

“I am not sure what happened to Gronchel.  I know he is gone.  I don’t remember anything the Grandfather said that would cause the blanket and man to disappear.”

 

“True.”

 

Gronchel could not understand why Hatalie spoke in such a way.  Then he saw the King’s lips move.  He was answering the King.

 

Gronchel now knew he had disappeared and travelled under the strange blankets spell.  He felt so warm and wonderful, and could not be seen and was totally free to float where he wished and see what he wished, and he knew he could not be harmed in any way. 

 

He wondered.  Could he jump off the cliff and survive?  He jumped.  He floated down…he could not fall.  He was at the bottom of the cliff again.  He wanted to speak to Hatalie.  He was at the top of the cliff again in the blink of an eye.  He did not move there, but rather jumped there as if he blinked his eyes and was somewhere else.

 

“Hatalie, I am here.  Can you see me?”

 

“No.  Where are you?”

 

“Here.”

 

“I can hear him.  I am not talking to myself.  He is right here somewhere,” and Hatalie pointed directly at Gronchel.

 

Gronchel was a young man with golden hair and bright blue eyes.  He was a picture of youth and trust, and looked like angels drawn on ancient Temples on top of hills.

 

He removed the blanket.  He did not want to, but willed himself to unwrap the warmth from his body.

 

The King’s jaw dropped, and Hatalie smiled, then ran towards to Gronchel and hugged him tight.

 

“Thank You!”

 

*                                                                       *                                                                                   *

 

It had taken a long time to arrive in Goodinhale.  Polaris, King Goodinhale, and Hatalie had shared much talk, and had stayed at a few wilderness Inns along the way.  They had travelled through small towns and had seen many people along the way.  Polaris had experimented on them several times with his discoveries and had battered his head against the coach in frustration over the compass and the symbols.

 

Hatalie had remembered little more, but had dreamt a lot.

 

They had arrived in Goodinhale in the middle of the night.  Lounge had unpacked the gifts and had placed them at the edge of his children’s beds and on his wife’s sitting table, then had slowly crawled beside her and wrapped his arms around her.  She had woken slightly, but he had whispered peace in her ear, and she had fallen back asleep without fully waking with a smile on her face.

 

Polaris had gone to his laboratory immediately to check on experiments in progress and to look in some of his books to see if he could find any clue to the chain symbols and the locketcompass.

 

A gentlewoman had taken Hatalie’s hand and led him to a bed.  He had not slept well that first night.  The sounds were different.  He had been able to hear the great ocean as they had approached Goodinhale, and now the sound of the power of the water filled his first night in a strange Kingdom.

 

Even at night, the streets of Goodinhale could be seen to be paved with one continuous white stone.  The carriage ride became smooth, and the houses were made of the same white stone.  It seemed to have a slight glow against the darkness of the night sky.  The stars seemed as bright to Hatalie.  A few homes had blue light emanating from inside and shadows seemed to dance on the walls.  The houses had space around them and were not taller than two levels. 

 

The wall around the town and around the castle was formed with rounded stones that glittered with a silver glow.

 

The air was crisp and fresh, and not full of dust like Boron, but he had noticed the air changing as they had travelled closer to Goodinhale and the great ocean.

 

Goshonon had been full of greens and earth toned buildings.  The lushness of Goshonon was evident in the many farms and various types of trees.  They had travelled through many forests and up and down many hills and mountains as they had travelled through Goshonon.  The people of Goshonon were beautiful and slightly round with large dark eyes.  They tended to laugh a lot and took much joy in everything they did.

 

Goodinhale was as different as Goshonon was from Boron.

 

Hatalie had awoken in the morning, after their arrival in Goodinhale, to six women standing over him.  The women bowed and asked if there was anything he wished for in unison.

 

He had not been sure what he should say.

 

“We can wash the dust from your feet and off your body from your long travels,” said one lady with long yellow hair and green eyes.

 

“We could bring you something to eat,” said another looking just like the first.

 

“Or fresh clothing,” said yet another with long black hair and bright blue eyes.

 

“We are here to do as you wish,” said the smallest one standing on her toes.

 

“I prefer to bathe myself.  Is there a bath?”

 

“Yes.  We shall show you.”

 

“I am also hungry and do require some fresh clothing and to have my own clothing cleaned.  I would prefer clothing similar to the manner of clothing I already have.  If you can manage.”

 

“Yes, Master Hatalie.”

 

“I would also like to have someone guide me through the rooms of the castle and the town of Goodinhale.  To familiarize me with where I am and some of the customs.  I do not want to seem so much a stranger, and do not want to offend anyone with my ignorance.  Will you teach me these things?”

 

“It shall be our honor, Master Hatalie.”

 

“Could you please just call me Hatalie, and tell me each of your names so we are friends and not so much Master and servant?  I am accustomed to serving others, and having someone serve me is not something I wish, or something I know very well.  You will help me say and do the proper things, will you not?”

 

“Yes, Hatalie.”

 

“I am Tora, this is my sister Ora.  We are the same, and came into the world at the same time, but I think she smiles more,” said the lady who first spoke as an individual pointing to the second.

 

“They call my name as Dayla,” said the lady with long black hair as she moved forward and bowed.

 

“I am Sazly,” said a frail thin girl with the whitest skin that Hatalie had ever seen and no hair, and dazzling purple eyes.

 

“I am Jacinta,” replied a very tall woman with a large nose and beautiful red hair and white eyes.

 

“I am Tetora,” said the very short woman who stood on her tiptoes and shook Hatalie’s hand.  “We, as a group, are called Jora Ladies.  If you want us all at one time, just call for Jora.  Otherwise, you can use our individual names.  We have lived together as a group, and we consider ourselves and our lives intertwined as one family.  I am the oldest, although the shortest.  It is the custom that you treat us as your friends, but also know your word is our command.  If you are not joyful or pleased at any moment, we are to blame and will be punished.  Not with beatings or anything like that, but with isolation.  We are so accustomed to living with others, being part of a group, and serving others, that being alone without a purpose is torture to us.  We must meditate during our isolation in order to be in touch with our own sensitivities in order that we may serve better.  Then we would return to you to report on what we discovered about our mistake in not pleasing you and how we can do better in the future as revealed through our meditation and isolation.   If you are not pleased, then we will return to our isolation and repeat the act until you find pleasure with us again.  Any serving group would do the same.  It is up to each serving group to know what will please their Master best, but we will call you Hatalie, if it pleases you.” 

 

“Yes.  Thank you all.”

 

Tetora took Hatalie’s hand gently and led him to the bath which the twin girls had already prepared.  The bath was in the next room and was cut out of the floor with stairs going down.  It was large enough for Hatalie and all the ladies to lie down in.  The water was just the right temperature, and smelled sweet.  The ladies had drawn a curtain around the tub so Hatalie could remove his long shirt and step into the water without being embarrassed to be seen by the women.  He had just eased back into the water to relax, when he noticed a hand gently lift the curtain, and another hand remove his long shirt, then deposit a tray of fruit and bread then a pitcher of something to drink. 

 

As Hatalie finished his bath and the meal, he had noticed a chair with towels and a robe hanging on a stand in one corner of the curtained-off area.  He dried himself and put on the robe and walked out of the curtained area.  The ladies were standing in a row in front of him, as soldiers waiting for a command.  Hatalie felt uncomfortable about this, but didn’t dare say anything for fear they would punish themselves.

 

“Your clothes are in the top drawer, here.  The other clothes we have acquired for you are in the drawers underneath.  We have found some similar to yours and some as worn in Goodinhale so you can choose what you would prefer to wear.  Would you like us to dress you, or should we leave and return when you call us?”

 

“You may go, and I will call you.”

 

They did not turn their back to him, but bent over from their waists and touched the top of their heads to the ground.  Hatalie could not imagine how they could do this.  Then they backed out of the room, keeping their eyes on him until the door was shut and the last Jora had left the room.

 

“They are quite amazing and strange,” Hatalie had told himself as he looked through the drawers to choose some clothes, and noticed how the bed had been made and the room cleaned.  His bags had been unpacked and new flowers had been placed in the vase next to his beside table.

 

He chose to wear the clothes he had travelled in.  He had felt he would be more comfortable exploring the castle and the town in familiar clothes.  Hatalie walked around his room.  There were large colored glass double doors on the outside wall that opened onto a balcony.  He walked outside and leaned over the edge of the railing and breathed deeply.  Goodinhale was a silvery blue and white, glistening town.  The air was fresh, and the view of the great ocean made Hatalie a bit dizzy.  The water seemed to go on forever.  There was no end to it. 

 

“Jora!”  He called, ready to explore the castle and the city.  Before he took his next breath, the door to his room creaked open, and there stood the Jora ladies.  “I will see the castle now.”

 

“Yes, Hatalie,” replied Tetora.  The Jora waited for Hatalie to pass by the entrance of his room, and followed him.

 

“Could you show me the castle?  I have no idea where I’m going.”

 

“Certainly.” Replied the Jora in unison.  Three women took a position in front of him, and three stayed behind him.  Tetora seemed to be the oldest and the leader of the group, if there was a leader.  She began down a long hallway of white stone.  Multi-colored tapestries hung with many scenes of nature, war, moments of historical significance, weddings, and funerals.  “This is the guest hall.   The tapestries are hung to remind visitors of all the wonderful things Goodinhale has to offer, from its history to festivals, and the pleasures that nature can bring.”   Hatalie wasn’t sure who had said this, but the voice had come from behind him.

 

“There are other guests here, with their own ladies or gentlemen attending them.”

“The hallway connects on one side to the hall of mirrors, and on the other to the double outdoor patio and arena for plays and games.”

 

The castle was a much larger place than Hatalie had imagined.  He couldn’t imagine how he was ever going to learn where everything was, and how to get anywhere, or even find the front door.  When they stopped on the first floor in the Main Hall to rest at the table that sat 100 people, Hatalie asked if there was a map of some sort so he could find his way around.

 

“No map of the castle has been allowed since it was rebuilt after the last great war and added on to many times since then.  Not even the architects, who drew the castle, and many of its additions, know, since there were many architects and builders with different pieces of the plan.  I believe only eight groups of servants know the entire layout of the castle.  The Jora being only one.  Out of the eight groups of servants that know the castle, only three know the city as well.  The city has some maps, but not many.  It is purposeful, in case war ever finds its way back to Goodinhale, we hope it will get lost in the streets, or not be able to find its way through the castle.  The Royal family and a handful of close advisors also know the castle and the city, but that is all.  It is a well guarded secret.”

 

“How am I ever to find my way?” 

“We will always be with you, and you are considered a trusted advisor to the King, so you will learn your way as well. “

 

The tour of the castle continued through a maze of rooms, going up stairs and downstairs, showing doors to the outside and rooms of varying purposes and themes.

 

There was one main hall, and one large kitchen, but many other halls and kitchens of smaller degrees throughout the castle. 

 

The Jora spoke the entire time, describing rooms and purposes, paintings and historical facts.  They led Hatalie up a long twisting stairway with many doorways, which were explained to him as false doors or doors that led no where or just to a long drop to the ground below and open air.  The climb to the trapdoor in the ceiling at the top, which Hatalie would not have guessed was there, until Dayla lifted her hand and knocked three times, and it opened.  Tetora said, “Master Polaris, a visitor to see you, Hatalie.”

 

“Welcome,” came the reply, and Hatalie was lifted from the ground through the trapdoor, and the door closed behind him.

 

Polaris greeted him with open arms and a pat on his shoulder.  “Thank you,” he said.  “I needed a break from the symbols and the blanket.  They are most amazing, and yet frustrating.  We shall journey out to test the blanket further when the Lounge joins us, which should be any moment now.  The Jora are always punctual.  Flawless aids, I must say.”  A few moments later, King Goodinhale arrived at Polaris’ rooms to discuss the afternoons experiment.  They went down the long stairs to the coach area.  Three coaches were prepared for the journey to the cliff.

 

*                                                                       *                                                                                               *

 

Four weeks after their arrival in Goodinhale, the blanket experiment had finally been a success.  Now, there were only a few obstacles in the path to finding the Natura and saving Catalie.  A great seagoing vessel was still being built, and it was the time of many festivals. The ship builders, and those recruited in this time of need to become temporary ship builders, suggested to Captain Towms that the most sea worthy ship (the CassieTalia - named after Lounge’s two daughters) also be a part of the questing journey to unknown lands as security measure.  “Two ships are better than one.”

 

Another obstacle was the fact that Lounge’s wife and children were not happy about the news of another departure so soon after he had just returned home.  Since King Lounge had been visiting in Boron, the documents had been piling on his desk for contracts, notices, laws, treaties, letters, and all sorts of Kingly business to perform.  The Monks from Highland had come for the annual Grape Festival and tournaments and were disappointed to miss King Goodinhale because he had extended his time in Boron, and King Som from Noctorn had just arrived the week before the blankets success to stay a few weeks with his daughters for discussions on peace and the annual Festival of Lights that culminated in the Dancing Lights Ball.  King Soms daughters had enjoyed the Dancing Lights Ball for the past two years and looked forward to it every year since.  They were also of marrying age, and King Som was hoping they would find suitable mates in Goodinhale to help support the recent alliance between Noctorn and Goodinhale.  Noctorn had been a warring nation for centuries, and was attempting to change the philosophy of the people.  Noctorn lay on the other side of the Highlands, and the pass through the Highlands was dangerous unless the Monks assisted the traveller.  King Som would still be led through the pass blindfolded.  The Monks did not yet trust the Kingdom of Noctorn.  They believed the talks of peace were a deception only to gain their trust and access to Goodinhale and the Kingdoms beyond in order to war against them.  The Monks had seen too many wars from their Highland perch, and it had taken many years before they trusted Goodinhale to honor the vows of peace. 

 

Polaris didn’t view his inability to comprehend the locketcompass and the chains code as a hindrance to the journey since no one knew how long it would take to get to Chromos and the lands of Bliss.   He figured he had some time aboard ship, as well, to try to unravel the mystery, but he preferred to do it soon, though he had other duties to attend to as well.

 

Hatalie had no obstacles, except his attempts to remember anything his Grandfather had told him became more and more frustrating and less and less fruitful.  He decided this was the worst obstacle of them all.

 

“Jora!”  The six ladies appeared through his doorway.  He smiled.  They had become good friends.  He had spent much time playing games and attempting to learn Goodinhale customs and about the upcoming festivals.  They had toured him through the castle several times, so he could always find his way to the Great Dining Hall, Polaris’ rooms, Lounge’s waiting room, or the private gaming room that he often met Polaris and Lounge in for private meetings and relaxation.  They had showed him the gardens where Lounge’s children played, and Hatalie had much fun with Cassie and Talia playing tag or hide-and-go-seek amongst the topiary animals and fountains.

 

“Jora, I would like to start my tours of the city today.  I have chosen robes, so I may look more like a citizen of Goodinhale, and not stand out so much, but my golden skin always betrays me.”

 

“Oh, Hatalie, the robes cover most of your skin, we can hardly see any skin at all.  It is warm out, and we can walk some, but we should obtain a man carriage for when you grow tired and wish to seek shade.”

 

“Besides, I believe your skin is most beautiful.  There are times I admire the coloring, wishing my dull skin was more vibrant as yours.  I have seen men of many Kingdoms pass through the castle doors, but none had such wonderful golden skin as yours.  An older Jora, now long passed, once told me of seeing a man with the most wonderful golden skin.  I did not believe her at the time.”

 

“You should not speak so to Hatalie, Sazly.”

 

“Shall I punish myself?”

 

“No,” replied Hatalie.  “And your perspective is delightful, and refreshing, but I am curious.  Who was the older Jora, and do you remember what she said about the man with the golden skin?  I have been struggling with memories of my Grandfather.  Trying to decipher bits and pieces of a long ago past, and if you have any memories that could assist me, that would be wonderful.”

 

“Tetora is the oldest, and remembers better than I,” replied Sazly.

 

“Jacinta also has memories of long ago that I do not have, and she has a way of helping people remember things.  I wish you would have told us sooner so you would not have been struggling.  I sensed your struggling, but did not know the cause or how to relieve you.  I should have.  I should punish myself for not knowing what you needed.”

 

“Nonsense, Dayla.  I wanted to discover these things for myself, but I cannot, and am now requesting help.  If you would have helped any sooner, I would have been displeased.”

 

“Well, now we do have issues.  Do we start your tour of the city today, or do we help you remember and tell you of Zanear, the oldest Jora teacher we had, and what she told us of the man with Golden skin.  He came when war was still the key to Goodinhale and blood ran in the streets.  The Jora protected him, and one left with him.  Which shall you choose, Hatalie?”

 

Chapter 3

 

The suggestion of the man carriage was wise on Tora’s part.  Even with fall in the air, the sun was very warm and resting and travelling through the streets of Goodinhale by man carriage was a break from the sun, though walking had been enjoyable, just not very tolerable out of the shade.  Ten very strong men moved the carriage which was completely enclosed with bright blue flowing fabric and stocked with various liquids.  The carriage had wheels, but the men often carried their seven passengers through the air without letting the wheels touch the ground.  The wheels were normally used for longer journeys or for when the passengers decided to walk. 

 

Hatalie had decided to delay the stories.  He needed a break, and wanted to be prepared for the street festivals that were themed throughout the next week.  They had stopped in a wild bird shop, a topiary plant shop, various marble and glass shops, and a ladies shop where he obtained a dress, hat, and scarf in Goodinhale style for his wife and also bought the Jora’s scarves which they almost cried over with joy.  They had returned to the carriage with the purchases, and decided to ride awhile to the next street, and if something intrigued Hatalie, they would stop and go in the shop.

 

“This is Towms street, named after the line of sailing Captains that have been with Goodinhale since the days before the wars.  It is full of shops on nautical items, bookshops dedicated to the sailing arts and the sea.”

 

“What is that shop?”

 

“Things From the Sea,” replied Tora, reading the sign hanging above the doorway that was draped with nets, starfish, and sand dollars.

 

“I would like to explore that shop.”

 

The salty air brushed Hatalie’s face, and he smiled, not knowing why.  

 

The shop was packed with sea shells, shiny and dull stones, wind chimes made from fish bones or shells, paintings of the ocean and its creatures, fountains with mermaids blowing water from their mouths into large basins, and candles glowing with a blue hue.  The walls of the shop were lined with large glass tanks full of water. Swimming in the water were various creatures from the sea.  Hatalie was amazed by the varying shapes, bright colors, and even sizes of the fish in the many tanks.  Hatalie walked up to one of the tanks where there was a light green snakelike creature slithering its way through the water.  In the same tank there was a flat round bright blue fish with a very small mouth. Hatalie smiled at the fish in the tank. 

 

“Oh, Master, you have spied our Reed Fish.  Does he not look like a snake on the ground?  See the small fish in the tank?  He eats those, but don’t feel sorry for them.  The Reed Fish is mostly blind and fished for the little fast fish through vibrations in the water.  His mouth is so small that he sometimes only gets the tail off one of the small fish.  See that one is missing his tail.  Though the Reed Fish is fast and doesn’t starve.  We also have some good eating fish and crustaceans in the back.  You look as if you are a man of fine tastes.  I bet you would like your wife to cook some fresh lobster for you tonight.  We have some that just walked on shore this morning.  Though I could be wrong, perhaps you would like some salmon caught just moments ago and cleaned and filleted in front of your eyes by one of your fine servant ladies.  Well, blow me down, you are Jora ladies.  I recognize the Tora and Ora twins.  How lovely it is to see you again!  It has been some time.  Well then you are a visiting dignitary and have no need for eating fish.  You are looking for some unique souvenir to bring home with you, or to gift some fine ladies of the town.  Oh, but you have the look of a married man with children.  Find what you would like, and if you need anything, call me out.  My name is Rashter Towmes, but just call me Rashy…everyone else does.”  The plump short bald man scurried off to speak with another customer.  Though the streets were full of patrons, Rashty’s shop only had a handful of customers perusing his shelves. 

 

The Jora’s helped Hatalie chose some gifts for his children. 

 

“Dant would love a live fish, but would the fish survive the journey back to Boron, and what would Dant feed the fish?”

 

Ora spoke so softly that Hatalie could barely hear her words, but he understood what she said anyway, “The bright blue fish eat vegetables the same that are grown in Boron.  Here is a small tank with unbreakable glass that would make the journey, but should you not get more than one blue fish so the other would not get lonely?  Maybe even six blue fish.  Six is a good number.  It works for Jora.” 

 

“Ora, there is more to you than softness and grace.  I will get the gift of fish for Dant as you have described.  Thank you.”

 

Ora smiled shyly at the compliment and walked with Tora to tell the shopkeeper of Hatalie’s wish.

 

“Corpo, my second son, does not care for much, but food and hard work.  He is a strong massive boy that can lift twice his weight.  He is not flabby, mind you, but strong and solid, and loves tasting a variety of foods when he can.  We do not have such crustaceans as the shopkeeper mentioned in Boron, but how would they stay fresh on the journey back?” 

 

“You can get another unbreakable tank and keep the six lobsters alive until they reach Boron.  You can send instructions on how the lobsters are best prepared and eaten.”  Tetora said quite loudly for such a small person. 

 

“Yes, but how would they know which were the lobsters, to eat, and which were the blue fish, to care for?”

 

“I apologize, Hatalie, I should have thought of this before you asked.  Should I punish myself now?”

 

“No!”  Hatalie hated the thought of any of the Jora, who were so kind and thoughtful, of ever punishing themselves. 

 

“Later then?”

 

“No! No! No!”

 

“I have caused such displeasure that I must leave now, but first, you could send a note to both boys describing their gifts and what to do with them.”  Tetora turned to leave, but Hatalie stopped her with a question.

 

“But I will not have time to write such notes to each child and my wife.  Could you and the rest of the Joras not write the notes for me?”

 

Tetora turned around with a pleased look on her face, but also a small tear was finding its way down one cheek.  “Yes.  We certainly could care for those duties for you.”  Tetora turned to leave again.

 

“Tetora, you cannot leave!  I have five other children and a wife to still buy more gifts for, and the rest of the streets to see.  I need all my Joras for these tasks!”

 

“I will stay at your bidding, but must be punished.”

 

“Can I choose your punishment and punish you now so we have no more talk of this punishment stuff?”

 

“Yes,” replied Tetora looking down at her feet, not daring to look at Hatalie, who had become quite uncharacteristically stern with her, as a few more tears trickled down her cheeks.

 

“Your punishment is to come over here and give me a hug in which I lift you into the air and laugh.  You will have to stop crying and laugh too.  This will help heal more heart with your sadness and will remind me of my youngest girlchild, Anabeth, whose laughter is unsurpassed in all the kingdoms.  So you will have to laugh with much giggles and joy.”  The punishment was kind, yet harsh for Tetora.  Because of her height, she hated being lifted in the air like a child, and only hugged her fellow Jora.  Tetora was not one much for laughter either.  She was better at serious pursuits and sadness.  The punishment would be hard, but the kindness of her Master did bring her joy, and she had not wanted to leave.  She did as her Master wished.

 

“You will have to work on smiling and laughter when we return.  Perhaps, you should take lessons from Sazly.  She knows how to laugh and smile the best.”   Master rightfully so gave Tetora another stinging punishment.  Tetora knew she was proud, and she thought of herself as the oldest and wisest of the Jora.  Sazly was the youngest, and not always very wise.  Tetora had valued her gifts, but had thought herself better than Sazly, and had punished herself on many occasions for such thoughts.  Perhaps the great Master Hatalie had come upon a punishment that would not only help Tetora relish joy better, but maybe she could also finally squelch some of her superior feelings, especially towards Sazly.

 

“As you wish, Hatalie.”  Master was certainly the wisest Master Tetora had ever had. 

 

“Now, Hatalmy is the most like me.  He lives to serve.  He loves children.  So what would I like to have in this store?  What appealed to me in the store was the net with the different types of shells on them.  They were odd, yet beautiful.”

 

Jacinta spoke up, “Hatalie, why not get a variety of shells wrapped in the net?  Maybe, this starfish, this conch shell that sounds like the ocean when held to the ear, this abalone that is so beautiful with the rainbow colors, this sanddollar that is so unusual, and maybe this sea urchin shell?”

 

“That is a wonderful idea, Jacinta!  I will put you in charge of picking out the shells for Hatalmy.”

 

  “Bebo.  He is the one that is least like me or my wife,  Bethany.  He is unlike anyone I know.  He serves reluctantly and daydreams a lot.   He also likes to read whenever he can.  He can sit and stair forever at a blade of grass.  If you ask him what he was thinking about, he always says, “Nothing.”  What can I get for such an odd boy?”

 

“I have a thick book that is all about the sea.  It is the truth of the sea wrapped in a story of adventure, danger, certain peril, love, and success.  There are maps of the known world that are most recent, and it will take him a long time to read.  It will not cure his daydreaming, but he will always know his father knew his soul if you give him this book.  A young boy who reads and daydreams may become a great story teller some day,” said the shopkeeper. 

 

“Yes.  That is a good idea.  Write something in the book like that from Father to Bebo.”

 

“As you wish,” smiled the shopkeeper.  He was pleased at his own cleverness and the fact that he would make a lot of money from the Great House of Hatalie today.  He could pay his creditors, and then he could take his entire family out for a fine meal at the Hogs Head Inn.  He could picture the juicy steak and buttery potatoes and chocolate pie.  He found himself salivating.  He was so tired of eating fish.  He would have enough money left over from the day’s sales to put some away for a rainy day.  He was quite pleased with himself indeed.

 

“Chrisopal is my youngest boy, and such a wonderful and loving boy.  He is fascinated with the way things work, but is quite small.”

 

Dayla did not say a word, but she held up a most fascinating wind chime mobile with stone, metal, glass, and seashell renditions of the animals from the sea brightly painted then smiled as she shook the large mobile slightly and the chimes rang delicately, but whispering a tune as if only the wind could sing such a beautiful song.

 

Hatalie smiled back at Dayla and shook his head approvingly.

 

The last two children will be the most difficult.  They are my girls.  Nido is the oldest, and she is wise beyond her years.  She is a year younger the Dant, and is serious about business and finding a husband.  Anabeth is a year older than Chrisopol and loves music and dancing.  I would also like to get something for Catalie, the joy and charm of my heart, yet not my child. She is the frozen one we seek to cure.  Bethany, my wife would love the painting of the ocean over the sales counter, but the rest…what shall I do?”

 

“Nido may like something that would be pleasing on her to men, yet also valuable to be part of a dowry.  This pearl necklace, that drips with pearls and jewels as a painting of the sun sinking in the sea, would be beautiful, yet practical for a young girl with her eyes on marriage.”

 

“Yes.  That is lovely, Tetora.  I think that would be a fine gift for Nido.”

 

“Anabeth may like this music box made from shells with carved dolphins and mermaids dancing to the song that plays, “Tora said.

“Let me hear the song,” replied Hatalie.

 

The melody swirled and splashed and sounded like a miniature man was hiding inside the abalone shell covered box playing the piano.  Hatalie could picture Anabeth in her gauze dress twirling and spinning and leaping through the air to the tune. 

 

“She will love the box.”  Hatalie grew sad.  He missed his family.  He missed the streets of Boron.  He missed serving the House of Sosna, but he knew he had to hold on.  He had to find a way to help Catalie.

 

“What is Catalie like, Hatalie?”  Asked Jacinta, attempting to pull Hatalie from the sadness that showed on his face.

 

“She is like the sunshine.  Although she has only passed ten full seasons, she fills a room with warmth and light.  Her smile could melt a tyrant’s heart.  Her silver blue eyes sparkle as if an entire galaxy of stars hid deep behind her eyes.  When she looks at you, her eyes seem to say,”I know you and I love you for all you are, and all you are not.”  She walks so gracefully, she can sneak up behind you and scare you with a whisper or walk through the forest without making a sound or disturbing the dirt on the ground. Her skin is not the beautiful deep tone of most Borons, but is lighter, as if she were part Goodinhale.  Her skin is the color of the pudding we had the other night… milk chocolate!  I had never seen anyone with that color skin before.  Her hair is black with streaks of silver that match the silver in her eyes, and her hair is so soft, like the fur of a rabbit.  It grows loose and long to the middle of her back.  She says the wisest things I have ever heard with a questioning and innocent voice.  Her voice is soft and sweet, like a cool breeze on a hot summer day.  She has a mark around her neck that will never go away where the chord tried to strangle her.  The doctor had not come yet, and I saved her.  I saved her only to bring the curse of the rings upon her.  Why would someone do such a thing to such a child of the gods?”  Hatalie had started remembering Catalie with a smile on his face, then tears, then anger.  He remembered her laughter as he blew raspberries on her stomach when she was just a toddler.  He could see her standing up for his golden skin as she grew older.  No one else had done this for him.  She said she loved his golden skin.  She said that she was like him.  Different from others, yet beautiful.  She said she wished she had golden skin instead of her dull light brown skin.  He would tell her he would trade skin with her anytime.  He thought her skin was the most beautiful he had ever seen, and he hated his own skin.  They would talk and joke while Hatalie cleaned or as they shopped in the market for groceries.   People would follow her through the market just to hear her laugh.  As they walked, people would part in front of them or lay down their coats in mud puddles so she would not have to wait to move and so she would not get dirty.  People loved to be near her.  Everyone loved her. 

 

The Joras listened in awe to Hatalie’s description of a creature they could only imagine.  Such Spirits of light they had heard told of in fairytales, but no one had ever believed such creatures actually existed. 

 

Dayla gave Hatalie a hug, since everyone seemed to be lost in thought as if frozen in their own golden ring of time.  Hatalie pulled his mind away from his memories.

 

“What gift could I give her?”  He said trying to sound like he believed there was something in the shop that would be the perfect gift for her.  Something that could cure her.  Something that would delight her as much as she filled others with delight.

 

“We are not sure.  We have combined our minds in an attempt to find something even on this sphere for such a creature.  We have found nothing yet.  Give us some time in silence to think.”

 

“Would you like to taste some fish and fresh bread with some beer while you wait for the Jora?”  Asked the shopkeeper more humbly and sincere than Hatalie had heard him speak.  “My treat, and if they can find a gift in my shop for your Catalie, that shall be no charge as well.  I would be honored if you find anything to gift her here.”

 

“We have thought of something,” said the Jora in unison. 

 

“What is it?”  Asked Hatalie.

 

“We cannot tell you, and we cannot show you.  It is not here yet.  There will be many gifts for Catalie you will bring to her, but the gifts we have thought of cannot even be known until the time is right.  You must trust us.  You must go on your journey first.”  Answered the Jora.

 

“As it should be.”  Replied Hatalie.  “Let us view the rest of the city by carriage then return to the palace with our purchases and send them back to Boron.  I am tired of shopping and will need to rest as soon as we return to the palace.”

 

*****

 

The carriage ride through the streets of Goodinhale was enchanting and helped ease Hatalie’s mind.  Though, every time he saw young children running through the streets, he remembered his own children and grew sad.  He was homesick, and his journey had not yet begun.

 

“Will you want to be awoken for the evening meal in the dining hall?”

 

“No.  Could you bring a meal to my room when it is time?  I would like to start work with Jacinta and Tetora.  I would like to hear the stories of the Golden man and Zanear, and I would like Jacinta to help me remember.”

 

 

The city swirled around Hatalie.  Then the carriage turned and went towards the castle.  Hatalie remember seeing the sun midway between the center of the sky and the horizon that led towards night, but nothing else until he awoke in his bed in the castle.

 

 

Chapter 4

 

“You are awake then.  I have waited.  Are you yet hungry?”

 

“No.  I’m a bit thirsty though.”

 

“There is a glass of water by your beside that Tetora left a few minutes ago.  She is quite good.”

 

Hatalie rubbed his eyes and saw the glass of water, but could not yet see the lady who had been speaking to him.  She was sitting on a chair not far from his bed, but she was hidden by shadow.

 

“You wish to know my name.  Zanear.  You did wish to speak with me of Hatalpo?”

 

“I’m sorry.  I was unaware you were still alive.”

 

“Am I?  I’m not quite sure myself.  Yes of course I am.  I am just joking with you.  Though, I would not have to be.  Jacinta seems to have the gift of spirit speak.  When I pass, I could always speak through her.  I am very old.  I am probably the oldest citizen in Goodinhale…or maybe the entire known world.  It is possible.  You wonder why I do not speak as a we. We were Aora, but my group passed so long ago.  I am not sure why I was spared, but have become “I” over the years.  I still do teach the younger servant groups.  All servants and their groups, as the Jora, must be approved by me.  Are  you allright, Hatalie?”

 

Hatalie had realized that he must have been carried to bed, bathed, and had his clothes changed by the Jora.  He had gotten out of bed to walk towards Zanear so he could see her in better light.  He breathed in deeply and held his breath at the sight of Zanear.  Zanear did not look old at all.  She had no wrinkles, her skin was very white, she had no hair on her anywhere, she was about Hatalie’s height, and her eyes were white.  She was blind.

 

“Oh, the blind thing.  Yeah, I’ve been this way for years.  Not sure how many now.  It happened when the rest of my group died.  I was sure I would die too, but I just lost my eyes.  It was a flash of sight, and it was gone.  Very strange indeed.  I agree.”

 

“I didn’t say anything.”

 

“You don’t have to say much around me.  And I love to talk anyway.  Didn’t much in the group, but when I became “I” with no sight, that is all I want to do most of the time.  Talk and talk and talk.  King Goodinhale even gave me five talking birds to occupy me.  I mean, the present King Goodinhale’s father.  Do you think I could go on the ship ride with you?  At least until we reach the island where Old King Goodinhale now lives?  I would sure like to visit with him again.  He really made me laugh.  He said I had to stay behind to teach others and to try to find the answer to my longevity.  Poor Polaris tries and tries to figure out my substance and apparent immortality, but ends up being annoyed by my constant jabbering.  That’s what he calls it anyway.  Oh, no.  I’m not in any pain.  I get tired sometimes, but that is all.  Sometimes, I feel like I’m always waiting for something.  I don’t know what.  I’m just waiting.  I guess when it comes, I’ll know.”

 

“I’m sure you can go as far with us as the Island of Takus.  I will confer with Polaris and the King.”

“Oh, they will go along with what you say.  You have good instincts.  You would have done well in a serving group, but you could never be of one mind, and would have punished yourself too often.  Your destiny is to serve, but not as a servant.  The King serves his people.  In one way or another, we all serve someone, and we are all somebody’s child.”

 

“You spoke the Grandfather’s name.”

 

“Yes.  I met him long ago.  He landed on our shore.  He was the most gorgeous man I had ever met.  He was handsome in every way.  The serving groups were just beginning.  There were a handful that were doing fine, but they were not of one mind.  Larz Goodinhale, Lounge’s father, had begun the peace.  His idea for the serving groups came from the fact the most servants were already very close to one another and could anticipate wishes of their masters, but Larz hoped to perfect the serving art.  Those who had chosen to try the new method had been older and could not master the one mindedness needed to serve as a group in every way.  Larz decided that younger citizens were needed to begin the process earlier.  Volunteers could not be accepted.  If someone was chosen and did not wish to serve or changed there mind during training or did not pass the training, they would not stay in the serving group.  I will tell you more of Hatalpo soon.  You must understand what an exciting time it was in Goodinhale.  Peace after so many generations of war.  Larz was the King that would change everything about Goodinhale.  Do you see the glow of silver and the whiteness of the houses?  Do you smell the fresh air?  There are no citizens starving in the streets, women crying day and night, the sobs deafening.   The streets had been dirt running with blood.  Dead bodies strewn everywhere.  Terrible burnt smells floating on stagnant air even though we lived by the ocean, the breeze could not blow them away.  The air was always thick with smoke and the smell of decay.  Goodinhale was not a place to live.  Many of the survivors had fled to the Highlands and lived in the monastery with the monks.  Those that could, sailed boats to Cypia and Takus…little rafts…if they made land, they stayed.  Many perished.  I lived in the monastery with my surviving family.  We had been ten.  My parents, four boys and four girls.  My father had been a soldier. 

 

 

 

 

My father died in the wars.  Two of my brothers went to war soon after the other two tried to flee and were hung.   They were twins and only ten years old.  Two girls were in the wars as well.  My mother and I and baby Ann fled to the monastery.  I was older than my sisters, but had been able to avoid going to war by serving a Lady with my mother.  Ann was only three years old and too young to fight.  She was still very dependent on my mother.  The Lady fled to the monastery with her only surviving family member, her daughter, Leanna.  We arrived safely at the monastery and I began to study the word of the Monks and learned much about the world.  My mother continued to serve the Lady, but the Lady soon died and my mother became mother to Leanna as well.  We believe her heart broke.  My mother died soon after.  The weight of the world was too much.  She heard of her other son's deaths at war and how her daughters had been captured by the enemy and made to bear children for the enemy.  They would be killed after they were no longer useful.  The Lady had been able to provide us with a supplement to the bread and water diet the monks allowed for time of war for refugees, but when she died, Ann became sick because the bread and water were not enough.  Then mother passed.  Luckily, Leanna and I were able to obtain work in the gardens and I began to serve the monks, who had taken a liking to me and Ann.  They had not cared much for Leanna until she had proved her worth in the gardens.  She had the gift with plants and animals.  The garden was abundant and she kept seeds and knew the best way to keep them and sew them for the next year.  She knew how to care for the animals so they would give milk and bare children and give healthy meat when their time came.  She knew how to speak to them so they would help in the fields to plant wheat and the planted all the land that was bare.  She knew how to move the crops from year to year so something could always grow and the land would always yield something wonderful and never be barren or lack nutrients to support the seeds.  She knew how to spare the water and dig trenches to use the water in the most efficient ways.  The monks cherished her gifts, and made her a saint when she died.  There is a statue that always watched over the animals and the gardens that is a likeness of her.  She was a good friend.  She died so long ago.  She was about my age.  She died right after the current King was born.  She had met Larz as a young man, and he had restored her birthright as a Lady and returned her ancestral lands to her, but she gave them to the monks for animal ranges and fields to grow gardens.”  Larz was a very young man.  He had not married yet, but had begun the peace when he was only thirteen.  He had exiled his own father, and was trying to rebuild Goodinhale.  When he came, I left with him.

 

“What happened to Ann?” 

 

“She grew up.  She was fifteen when she married another refugee, who was a young man, from Nocturn, who had found his way to the monastery in the Highlands, which is not an easy trip.  They stayed in the monastery town of Highlands and set up a school to teach the young children as she had been taught.  She had children, and grandchildren, and great grandchildren by now, that still live there.  She is long passed.  She had her children before I left with Larz.  I was much older than him, but he wanted me to serve, and I wanted to serve.  When I saw what he had done to the streets of Goodinhale, I was determined to serve.  There was still much work to do, but he put me in with one of the new younger groups, and we began the serving groups.  We were the first true group, Aura.  I was the oldest of the group.  They were older than Larz.  He was like the son or even grandson I never had.  Yes, that is why I must see him again.  I was twenty-five when I left for the monastery.  I had been there at least fifteen years.  I lost track of time.  The more time goes by, the more I lose track of it.  Yes, perhaps I was 40 or more when I left the monastery, but I still looked very young.  My sister believed it was because I had no children, but neither did Leanna.  She had been 26, I believe, and she looked old when I left.  She died when she was fifty or sixty.  I nice age to die, I’m told, but it does seem my work is never done.  The Spirits must have some great purpose for me to keep me so long and to see so much go by, and now just know such much goes by.  Soon after I returned to Goodinhale, well, a year or two, that is soon for me, the peace had been attained, and the day of the celebration in Goodinhale, the sky was lit with fireworks and everyone was at the shore feasting and dancing and watching the spectacle.  The Aura was with Larz and his entourage.  In front of us, a boat washed ashore.  We watched it drift in and tried to guess what it was.  The Aura knew it would do no harm, and the person aboard the little raft would need our help.  Larz was impressed with our progress.  A group in training was with us, the Beloura.  She loved him from the first moment she had felt his presence. The Beloura were sent to discover what drifted ashore along with some of the new guard.  It was your Grandfather, Hatalpo.  He was near death, and the Beloura were assigned to nurse him back to health.  Zandra was to be with him.  She had been a very good friend of mine.  She had been like the daughter or Granddaughter I had never had.  She was more of the age of Larz, maybe a little older. 

            For a long time, Hatalpo said nothing, though I could sense his words and feelings, and so could Zandra.  She had the gift and could have been a great anchor in a serving group.  As I watched Zandra and Hatalpo laugh as he regained his strength and walked through the streets holding her hand, I knew they had both found where they belonged. 

            We may think we know our path and where we are going and what our purpose in life is, then something crosses our path that directs us to our true path.  We may have ideas for our lives, but the Spirits will always guide us to our truth, no matter how much we may fight against the truth.  And Zandra fought.  She fought to stay true to what she believed was her destiny – to serve in the groups. 

            Oh…I’m so sorry.  You want to know about Hatalpo.  Can I help you.  That is what you want to know.  I apologize.  The memories play before my blind eyes as clear as if they are happening today.  I tell you what I see, but it is not what you need to know, but you must know something about Zandra to understand Hatalpo.  Zandra was your grandmother.  I don’t believe you were able to meet her. She had the soft white skin of Goodinhale.  That is why all your girls have the soft white skin.  I counseled both your Grandfather and Grandmother, and helped them find their true path.  Your Grandfather was a brilliant man.  Many a woman of Goodinhale would have chosen his Golden skin and talents over the men of any of the towns they had known, but his heart belonged to Zandra.  They almost did not get together.  He had learned our language and the language of many of our neighbors and had held counsel with Larz, but his heart grew homesick. 

            From what I understood, an evil had entered the land of Chromos, and your Grandfather had been exiled.  Left adrift on the Great Ocean to die.  He had survived against the will of the evil with the help of the true line of Natura.  Chromos was a land almost on the opposite end of the earth of Goodinhale.  The only way to reach Chromos was by boat.  There are no known maps, but you will get there with the treasures the Natura gave your Grandfather.  Chromos was a much more advanced civilization than ours where magic really still exists, and the Spirits still walk amongst men.  All creatures lived in a harmony.   A Spirit had fallen in love with a woman from Chromos and had born children by her, but was never allowed to sanctify her or their children.  The Spirit and his love were never allowed to become one, and he was never allowed to see his children or her ever again.  He had broken a rule of the Spirits, was exiled forever to roam the earth and do good deeds, but never to set eyes on Chromos, his love, his children, or any Spirits ever again.  He could no longer take form, but would help others by whispering to their souls. 

            The three children were separated.  One stayed with the mother and was much loved and nourished, Shanfree.  Shanfree was named after the father, Janfreez, and grew into a strong man.  One child was raised by the Spirits in the woods, and this was Natura.  She also grew beautiful and well loved.  The third child was a boy, set adrift in the universe, given no name, watched over by any who dared to cross the Spirits or were ignorant to the ways of the Spirits.  The third child was really left to die from what your Grandfather imparted to me. There were those that cared for him in Secret and knew his story.  The Natura blessed him and gave him gifts to carry with him, and watched over him from afar when she could.  The Spirits did not have the heart to keep her younger brother from her eternally.  She had watched over him since his birth, and they could not bear to break the bond completely.  Shanfree was unaware that he had siblings or who his father was.  He was raised under the idea that he was an only child and that his father had died in an accident, and was a hero.  The Natura watched over him as well.  The Natura was the only who knew the true story, and she imparted it to your Grandfather when he was exiled.  She wanted him to know what had happened.  She wanted him to know why he was being exiled.  Shanfree had been the ruler of Chromos forever.  The land prospered, and he watched as others around him aged and died, and he lived on.  The Spirits still walked amongst men, but no longer were allowed direct contact with man.  They were only allowed contact with man through the Natura.  She became the Holy person for the land of Chromos.  Shanfree grew sad as he had to watch his own children grow old and die.  Some lived quite a long time, but still died.  His heart grew sad.  The Natura, in an attempt to unburden his heart, was allowed to tell him the story of his birth.  He was not alone.  She was his sister, and somewhere, in the stars, was his younger brother.  He had disappeared from her sight many years ago.  She had searched for him, and so had the Spirits, but he was nowhere to be found.  He was eternal as they were, but some things can kill even the Spirits.  The Spirits had assumed this is what had happened to the boy they had set adrift in the universe to perish.  They had let Janfreez know about the death of his youngest son, and the pains of his oldest son.  The rains came.  The rains came hard and long.  Janfreez cried for his love that had been lost to him so long, his children that suffered because of his error, but he thought, “No!  Because of jealous Spirits.  The one who had swayed the Spirits in his punishment, Laliti.”  Laliti, a strong Spirit with much power over the other Spirits had coveted Janfreez, who had never adored her the way the other Spirits had.  The other Spirits were voting to remove Janfreez from the Spirit world and let him be mortal to live out his life with the Chromos in the choice that he made.  They had not been so cruel in their decision, but Laliti had proposed the punishment to be an example to all Spirits that they should never cross the line.  The vote followed her wishes.  His anger and tears filled the sky.  Laliti had perished long ago.  She had broken her own Spirit by exiling Janfreez.  She had tried to find him to make things right, but his cloak of punishment was too strong.  Laliti disappeared in the haze between sunset and night.  Janfreez cried for his children.   The Spirits removed his cloak of punishment.  Naliee was the strongest Spirit and had watched over the Natura.  Naliee had become the adopted mother of the Natura and the Natura line.  She stopped the rains and brought Janfreez home to the Spirits and his children.  She allowed Shanfree and the Natura to be mortal, but gave their lineage long life and the gifts of the original children, and started another search for the one not named, but her efforts were too late. 

            The youngest boy had survived the foolishness of the Spirits.  He had become an angry and powerful Spirit that could take any form he wished.  He learned his story from Zota, another jealous Spirit who had been the play thing of Laliti.  Zota disappeared soon after Lalita, but not before telling the nameless boy all he knew and teaching him the ways of the Spirits and showing him the path to learn about man.  The boy took human form and began his tutelage on humans with a farmer, named Bran.  The boy left Bran and traveled the lands of Boron, Goshonon, Goodinhale, Highlands, and all the neighboring civilizations.  There had been no wars until the boy.  Once he cut his teeth and refined his taste for blood and revenge, he set his sights on Chromos and the Spirits.

              The boy, not named, found his sister and brother aging, and killed them.  He then took their forms and placed his line in theirs.  He would have killed the heirs, but he could not see them.  He replaced the Natura line with his, and that is who had exiled your Grandfather.  His eyes are different.  There is something about his look that is not the same as the true line of Natura.  The same could be said about the true line of Shanfree, but not all of Chromos could see the difference.  Your Grandfather and his family could.  They were all killed, except for your Grandfather, who was to be set adrift to die, as the no named boy was set adrift to die.  

            I don’t know if they ever named him.  Your Grandfather does not know.  I don’t know if they ever discovered that the Shanfree and Natura had been replaced by something unholy and evil.  Your Grandfather did not know, but he did know that one day his line would return to set the world right again.  He did know, because Janfreez still lives as a Spirit and whispered to him, that his youngest son still lives and exiled Naliee.  His youngest son is the strongest Spirit.  Janfreez kept his cloak of punishment and used it to escape his son’s wrath, and to find the Chromosal that would help the Spirits correct the error of jealous Spirits.”

 

“Do you think he whispers to me?  Why can’t I hear him?” 

 

“Yes.  You have heard him.  That is why you are here.”

 

“Is that what this is all about?”

 

“Wait.  You ask me now, but you are hearing Janfreez, are you not?”

 

“Yes.  This was all meant to be.  Even the Spirits are someone’s children.  The Great Spirit guides all.  My Grandfather had great purpose.  We serve, yes, but we first served the Great Spirit in the lands beyond death.  My Grandfather was saved so his line could join the world together.  My Grandfather’s line is not of one world or culture, but of all.  This world and all others.  This is not the first time our line has been sent ahead to be first contact with other life forms, and it won’t be the last.  Because we serve, we are never looked upon as a threat.  Because we know how to see and listen and find the truth, we become where we are and invaluable to any we encounter on our path.  But I must believe in my purpose and the greatness of my line for this journey to be successful.  The no named one is powerful, and also knows the plan of the Great Spirit, and is prepared.  The no named one is now searching for me and the Great Spirit, which none has done before.  The youngest son of Janfreez wants to put an end to all life on all levels and has many of the keys to do so, but cannot do it with my line alive and the Great Spirit giving strength to all the other Spirits. “

 

“It sounds confusing.”

 

“I must believe.  I don’t know if I can.”

 

“You must not tell a soul of any of this either.  The secret stays with you and me.”

 

“I know.  The more that they know, the more danger they will be in.”

 

“So you are alone in this.”

 

“Until you set foot on Cypia, yes.”

 

“Not even your Jora will be with you then, but what about Jacinta.  She has the gift and could see it in you.”

 

“This all goes much deeper than just saving Catalie.  I don’t know if I can do this.”

 

“If you can’t, your children will be sent.  If they cannot, then their children will be sent.  Yes.  You are right.  What about Janfreez’s son?  He searches.  Perhaps that is why there are some far off lands that begin to believe in no Spirits.  This weakens the Great Spirits and all Spirits, but would not weaken a Spirit that can also be part man.  He would survive because of his human form then take form when all other Spirits are gone or have changed form to survive.  He could switch back before all others, and then freeze them in the form they took.”

 

“I do not want to visit this task upon my children.  I believe my children will have their own paths and challenges.  I must do this.  I must believe.  I just look to the Great Spirit and Janfreez to help me, and the true line of Natura and Shanfreez to guide me.”

 

“All you can do is try your best and believe in the Spirits.”

 

Hatalie’s conversation with Zanear had been exhausting.  He was hungry, but more sleepy.  Without having to say a word, Zanear tucked Hatalie back into bed.  He slept and dreamt of Chromos.

 

Chapter 5

 

            The land was different here.  The leaves were large and shining in the sun.  The colors were so vibrant that Hatalie had to blink several times before he could see clearly.  The land looked just as Hatalie had imagined a land that had been kissed by the Spirits would look.  He was filled with a great love and sense of belonging.  He wanted to sing and jump and skip, but he heard a soft whisper from behind the large leaves of a nearby bush, “I am glad you are pleased, but you must stay quiet and join me in this bush…quietly now.”  Hatalie gently moved the leaves aside and discovered a girl child no larger than his youngest daughter, but this was not his daughter.  For the girl had golden skin and the brightest white hair he had ever seen.  As Hatalie joined the girl in their hiding place, he noticed her eyes had a lavender glow to them, but otherwise looked slightly green.  “Who are you?” 

 

“They call me Liela, but that is not my true name, is it?  You know my true name and will call me when it is safe for us to reveal ourselves.  Even in dreams it is dangerous to speak.  He can be anywhere, but in dreams, we are the most safe.”

 

“I do know you, yet I do not.”

 

“Hatalie, you must come soon.  His power grows everyday over the worlds of humans and Spirits.  He tries to capture your good Kings soul.  He has put anger in the minds of some men who will begin wars.  They are far from your lands, but nearer Chromos.  I do not know if they will sail their ships toward the setting sun or the rising sun, but either way, we must try to help the Spirits stop them before they can kill.  Please tell your King and his wiseman that it is time to leave.  You have all you need to find me.”

 

“There is a festival that creates goodwill among two nations.  If we sail after the festival, will this suffice?”

 

“Yes. I know men will have to work through the festival to prepare, but that is the latest that you can leave or more terrible things will happen, and you will never leave, and the Chromos will be lost, and so will I.  The rest of the world will follow, and then the Spirits will not be able to survive.  Come quickly, even before the festival ends, if you can, please…” a dark cloud seemed to cover the sky, and rain fell heavy.  Hatalie had to adjust his sight again, but when he looked back at the spot where Liela had been standing under the bush, there was nothing but the echo of he soft voice…”please.”  Hatalie was drenched from the downpour, even though the sky had brightened again, and he felt it strange that he had not left the dream.  Then he heard another voice speak loud and clear, “I know you are there.  Why not come out and join me?”  He peeked around a large leaf of the bush and saw a young golden man standing near the shore of a great ocean.  The man was some distance way, but his voice was so strong.  “You do not need to hide from me.  I am your friend.”

 

Hatalie did not trust the voice.  Although it seemed to be full of love, it also seemed to be full of confusion.  The young man turned away from the ocean and looked towards where Hatalie was peaking out from under the leaf, but didn’t seem to be able to see him.  His eyes were a dark green, but there was no lavender glow.  There was no glow at all.  In fact, his eyes were such a dark green; they seemed black or that there were no eyes there at all.  Hatalie wondered if he was blind because he walked up to where Hatalie was staring right at him, then he turned and pulled back the branches of the bush next to Hatalie.  “I know you are here.  I know you are.  Why do you not show yourself?  I have many things to show you.  Do you not want to know the answers to all your questions?”  Hatalie was not even tempted by the calls of the golden skinned man that could not see him. 

 

Then, Hatalie was no longer there, he was nowhere.  He seemed to be floating in the mists of nothing.  A voice like none he had ever heard before washed over him.  “You were right not to show yourself.  You know who that is, don’t you?  You will.  Don’t worry.  Now you know what may be in your path.  Do not let it stop you.  I will be with you.  It does not matter if he takes our lives.  They are little compared to the universe.”

 

Then Hatalie was back home.  Back in Boron with Bethany.  Their hands had touched lightly as they had reached for the same dish to dry.  Her touch still thrilled him after all the years they had spent together, even though time and children had changed her form and added interesting wrinkles here and there, her touch was the same.  She never knew this.  How he would watch her long after the accidental brushing of skin, admiring her and adoring her.  She didn’t even look his way.  She just kept washing dishes.  He would snap himself out of the daze long before the dishes were done, and long before she turned to say, “Would my husband like a glass of wine and a slice of fresh baked bread?”  She would never wait for an answer.  He would sit down at the kitchen table, and she would return with the wine and bread steaming from the oven.  This was their moment alone.  The time of day they could talk about the children or what had happened that day.  They could see each others eyes and really be with one another.  There was that moment before they drifted off to sleep and the one when they just woke up (unless a child had woken them) that they had to smile at one another.  They never said it, but they loved their life, they loved serving, they loved each other, and they loved their children, and were glad to wake up to each other every morning.  It was much better than any dream could have possibly been.  But as she returned with the wine and bread and sat across the table from him this time, something was different.  Something had changed.

“What is it my love?” 

“Come home.”

“Is there something wrong?”

“Come home.”

“But I can’t.”

“Come home.”  The voice that was not Bethany’s kept saying, but the eyes, were gone.  She had no eyes.  She reached out to touch his hand, but before she could touch him, he pulled away his hand.  He knew he would not feel the thrill of her touch.  This was not her.

“Come home, come home, come home.”  She would never say this.  She knew the rules.  She would ask for nothing.  She was as accustomed to serving as he was.  She would never ask him to deny his purpose.  Not for anything.  Why did she have no eyes?

 

He did not drink the wine nor eat the bread.  He stood up and said, “Be gone demon.  Haunt my dreams no more.  You have no power over me.”

 

“Where are you, my beloved? Speak your name so I can hold it in my heart.”

 

Hatalie wanted to say something.  He wanted to spit a curse at what had walked back into the room of his dream and interrupted his time with Bethany.  He wanted to sting what had stung him.  He thought of not replying and just leaving the creature, but he thought of something to answer.  “Janfreez!”  The creature that looked somewhat like his wife, changed and contorted, screamed and howled pulling hair that changed hue by the minute.  The demon fumed in smoke and haze and howled and stumbled about the dream room blindly reaching for the voice that had answered him.  “You shall pay!”

 

Hatalie woke up.  His clothes and bed were soaked with sweat.  Tora stood by him. 

 

“We will care for you.  You had a terrible dream.  You need a bath, new clothes, new bedding, and food and drink.  You have had only drink today, and it is almost time for the nighttime meal.  I know Zanear filled your head with much.  Your dreams must have been very informative too.  I watched you toss and turn and then you were wet.  In one second, you were soaked as if you had been in a rain storm.  You spoke in your sleep, “Janfreez!” you said then you woke up.”

 

The Jora took care of Hatalie.  He decided to have dinner on his terrace after he had been washed and dressed.  He had pen and paper brought to him, and walked out on the terrace.  He looked down upon the glowing city of Goodinhale.  How small everything seemed.  Now that he knew the truth of things, how small every little worry, every little thing, seemed to him.  He leaned over the balcony and took a deep breath, then exhaled.  He turned and saw that there were three other place settings at his table.  Ora, stood in the doorway of his terrace, and as if in reply said, “Yes.  You will be joined by three others.  They have heard of some of your experiences of the last two days, and are anxious to speak with you.  They have also missed you.  Polaris was pacing the floor to see you when you were asleep.  He is bursting with things to tell you and questions to ask you.  Our good King was worried, but also in need of some reassurance of you health and purpose.  Gronchel was asking after you as well.  You have grown in his eyes to be a brother.  So, they will join you.  We could not deny them, and you should have the company.”

 

“Thank you, Jora.”

 

Ora smiled then lit some lamps around the terrace though the sun had not gone down.  She knew these men would not speak briefly to one another.

 

Hatalie began to pen some things he needed to mull over.  He had finished just as Polaris burst through his bedroom door with Ora attempting to guide him in. 

 

“So you keep yourself from us good friend!  We have two days before the festivities begin, and you hide yourself away when there is so much work to be done for our adventure!  Oh, I do have such good news my friend, and some questions, but let us wait until our King arrives.  We must all share our enlightenments and questions of the last two days.”

 

As if answering the call of Polaris, King Goodinhale walked through the door.  He lacked the bravado and good cheer that beamed from Polaris’ face.  King Goodinhale looked as if he had not slept and had been plagued by worrisome thoughts for some time.  There was a quiet darkness about his face and his movements that was unlike him.  He barely seemed to be able to speak coherently.

 

“Yes.  And we have Polaris here, and the golden man.  Yes.  As it should be.”

 

Gronchel entered the room behind the King and almost knocked him over with his enthusiasm.  He had a book in his hands full of loose leaf paper.  He seemed quite excited and energetic as youth often is.

 

“I’ve found some interesting information, and have progress notes on the building of ships, crew lists, and provisions for our voyage.”

 

“Take a seat on the balcony terrace with Hatalie.  We will provide the nourishment that each of you needs, and your companions will provide the rest,” Jacinta bowed the way to the terrace doors.   Ora and Tora helped the King to his seat, and helped him drink some from a goblet as the rest of the dinner guests took their places.  

 

“My dreams!” The King sputtered after taking a few sips from the goblet.  He sipped some more on his own without the Jora help.  “My dreams!” He announced again.

 

“Tell me of your dreams,” said Hatalie softly as he began to eat the food and drink from his own goblet that the Jora placed in front of him.

 

“They were twisted and strange.  War and deaths if I leave on the voyage with you.  If any of us leave, my wife burning alive in the castle, my children, skinned alive.  Everyone was blind.  Blind!”

 

“They weren’t blind.  They could not see you.  Where their eyes should be, only blackness.  Yes, I saw the demon that is full of lies too.”

 

“I sent men one way, then another.  I tried to bring peace and save everyone, but it did not work.  I …. I….grew angry, vengeful.”

 

“You told the demon your name.”

 

“I… I…I…killed them all.  All of them.  The rings got larger and larger.  I could not move.  I froze.  But first, I slashed and burned and raped and poked their eyes out.  I killed them all!”  The King screamed with horror in his voice.  His eyes grew big then he wept and let his face fall in his hands.

 

Polaris, who sat on the King’s left, and Gronchel, who sat on the King’s right, both placed their hands on the King’s back.  The King’s chair was facing toward the open air, and Hatalie sat facing his room.

 

Polaris spoke, “Lounge, they are dreams.  You are a great King.  A great leader, my friend.    Only a demon, as Hatalie spoke, could make such visions disturb your mind.”

 

“It seemed so real,” Lounge lifted his head from his hands.  His eyes did not look so tired anymore, and his voice began to sound as if he were himself again.  “It knows I’m King Goodinhale.  It has known from the start, but it does not have my first name, nor the names of my companions.  It is trying to keep us here.   It…it…is afraid of us.”

 

“Well, right it should be!”  Said Gronchel with the vigor of his station and youth.

 

“We are an awesome force,” replied Polaris chewing on some food and winking towards the King.

 

“Together, we are quite a team.  I must admit.  I was afraid.  I may still be afraid, but I serve.  I serve all.  I do not want to see our children try to complete this task, and by then, it may be too late.  Not to change, the subject, but to change the subject since Lounge seems to have recovered a bit from the drain of the demon, I must speak of many things.”

 

“You, Hatalie, must speak of many things, so must I!”

 

“I have great news as well, Polaris.”

 

Lounge looked at the group gathered around the table.  They were almost fighting like children to see who should share their good news first.  The King’s glow and good nature returned fully.  The demon may try to capture him with the rings in his dreams, but he would gain strength from his companions, and the truth.  If he is captured, these men would go on.  They would succeed.

 

“Gronchel.  Please speak first.”  The King commanded.

 

“Yes, Sire!  Well, you see here, this paper, it has the route to Takus, to see your father.  I have obtained some route information for some of the Seas on the other side of the Island.  See here.”

 

“Yes.  I see.”  Lounge’s eyes lit up.

 

“The largest and most sea worthy vessel is almost complete.  We have a full compliment of crew for each ship, good men, all ready to leave anytime.  Many of the men that volunteered for crew duty could not pass the rigorous tests, but we still have men that will be staying home that passed the test since there were already so many able and experienced seaman assigned to each ship.  The provisions for the voyage are two-thirds stocked, thus far, but that is also with preparations for the festival underway as well.  With halting work for the festival, we should have another two or three weeks more of work, without incident, to be done before we can sail.”

 

“That is great news indeed!”  Lounge said beginning to eat his meal and feel revived.  His voice was back to its normal timber.

 

“Not so.  We must leave sooner than that.”

 

“But how can we, Hatalie?  Most of the men have been working shifts, day and night, to have such great achievements in so short a time.  I told them they could enjoy the Festival of Lights and participate in the games, but especially attend the ball where Princess Natalie and Oronia will most definitely be looking for men amongst my Lords and Guards and Seamen to woo them.  King Noctorn has made it clear that the peace between us will be solidified only if his he can leave a daughter behind, and hopefully marry them both to Goodinhale men.  One of his sons had married a Torrezian, and the peace talks seem to be going well with the land of Torrez, his eldest son is looking for a Noctorn Lady to marry so she can stand beside him as Queen when his father retires.  The youngest son is still wild and in school.  He is looking forward to having all his children out from under his feet within the next year or two, and would be grateful if we could help with the daughter situation.  I cannot leave until after the Ball.  Maybe not for a week.  I must entertain my guests. “

 

“Couldn’t Neopolis entertain your guests?  Have you not been training him to keep the peace in your absence?  Did he not attend to most of your duties and please the Monks of the Highlands while you stayed long in Boron?  King Noctorn accepts Neopolis as a good Council and knows he speaks as you would.  If I am not mistaken, Neopolis and Natalie danced much at the Dancing Lights Ball last year.  He may have answers to the question of peace that you cannot provide, my Good Lounge.  Hatalie, could we not leave after the Ball?”

 

“No, Polaris, we must leave as soon as we can.”

 

“Gronchel, how soon can the stores, ship, and men be prepared to leave?”

 

Gronchel rifled through his papers, scribbled numbers here and there, brushed his hair back from his face and said, “King Goodinhale, if we really push it, maybe five days to a week.  No sooner.  That would mean pulling many men from the Festival preparations, which is in three days.  We need more men.”

 

There was a light tapping on the terrace above them, and the sound of someone clearing their throat.  A soft voice said, “Excuse me, gentlemen, but I could not help but overhear your dilemma.   I am most appalled at the fact that you only say you need more “men.”  What about women.  The women could chip in more.  I would be glad to help.  I have grown much since last year and do not appreciate the girlish occupations I once did.  I would be willing to help, and may even get you more “men” to help if you allow me to go on this adventure with you.  May I come join you on the terrace below?”

 

“(Now this was really something.  A woman, in the top balcony, at least 20 or 30 feet above Hatalie’s, not only heard their conversation, but wanted to join in.   She had some good thoughts.  Was this a trick?  How could she find more men to help?  What was the catch?  …and a woman on such an adventure…could he allow this?  Let us see her and hear her fully before deciding.  Yes.)”  Thought King Goodinhale.

 

“Yes.  Join us.  Do you require….” But before King Goodinhale could finish his sentence, the lady hopped from her balcony to the railing of Hatalie’s balcony.  She balance there, against the fading sun for some time, then walked along the railing to the edge, then jumped onto the balcony’s floor.  She swept her arms in a bow with great flourish, then stood and smiled.

 

She was tall and slender, but muscular.  Not like a man, but fit and strong, and very much a woman.  Hatalie had never seen anyone like her, ever.  Her skin was dark, black as the night sky without any stars.  Her hair was just as black, straight and thick.  Her nose came to a very sharp point, as did her chin and her ears.  Her fingers and toes were long and slim, they looked so delicate, but almost dangerous.  She had a strange beauty and red glow about her cheeks.  Her eyes were blue.  The woman seemed to stare back at Hatalie with the same curiosity.

 

“What strange creature is this?”  She said, pointing at Hatalie.

 

Polaris began to laugh, and Hatalie did not seem to catch the reason.  Then everyone, except Hatalie was laughing.  Tetora brought another chair around and a goblet for the lady who had entered the conversation in such a dangerous manner.

 

When the laughter quieted, Polaris spoke first, “This is our good friend, who is the central reason for us even being able to think of this adventure, let alone attempt it, Hatalie.”

 

“I apologize.  I tend to speak what I think.  Some say this is a good thing, for I have nothing to hide, and none had to guess with me, but others believe I was cursed since I often speak out of turn.  I just never have seen a Golden Man in my life.  I can’t imagine how you were made.  I first thought that you must be an invention of Polaris’.  He breathed life into gold, and here you are!  Amazing and strangely different and wonderful. ”

 

“I must also apologize, for I was staring just as you were.  I have never seen anyone like you.  Stunning and dangerously beautiful.”

 

”Dangerously beautiful?  You must be a married man!”

 

Everyone laughed again, but this time Hatalie laughed too.

 

“If you have not guessed yet, my good friend, Hatalie, our rude intruder is Oronia, King Noctorn’s second daughter.  The Noctornians all look the same.”

 

“Polaris, don’t forget, only the women have these,” and Oronia lifted her hair to show to eyes at the base of her neck on her back.  The same color and size as the one’s on her head.

 

“So the song goes, Oronia, “beware of the four eyed beauties, that walk as dark as the night, and slip in the shadows, and see everything, and hear the whispers of the ants.”

 

“Yes.  We are known for our stealth, and great senses: sight, sound, smell, taste, touch, intuition, and logic.”

 

“I’m not so sure about the logic part.”

 

“Hmmph.”    Everyone laughed again.

 

“Let us get back to business.  We have much work to do.”  King Goodinhale interrupted the laughter.  He could see how Oronia could help, but would her father agree to send his daughter on such a perilous voyage.  A journey where none might return.

 

Chapter 6

 

“If it was up to me, I would say – “Not on your life!”  But do you think such a willful child would obey my wishes.  She also has a way of getting whatever she wants.  She knows how to manipulate me well.  Always has…just like her mother, maybe worse.  Yes, of course she will go with you.  I will lend my guards to help with any preparations you need.  If any men wish to go with you, they can.  Though, our men are not as adventuresome and brave as our women.   We will miss you at the Ball, but Neopolis is fine man and substitute for you.  I fear your wife and children will miss you most.  The journey sounds so very dangerous.  We will watch you children, people, and lands for you while you are gone.  I will leave Natalie with Neopolis.  We have all seen the way they are together, and know it is not long before he asks to become her husband.  She is not as clever as Oronia, but is more beautiful, if that is possible.  I must sound like a proud father and not the King I should be, but I will miss my ‘Little Feather’.”

 

King Noctorn seemed resigned yet excited about sending his daughter on the quest to save Catalie and discover new lands and uncover mysteries.  He almost seemed jealous of his daughter’s youth and freedom.  He was a King tired of war, tired of the life of a statesman and wished to have adventures, but he was also a father worried about his daughter.

 

“So, everything is settled, then.  With your help, we will be able to leave in five days.  Gronchel has crunched the numbers.”

 

“Well, I can see this saddens you more than delights you.  You will miss the festival and many things, I guess.  I understand how it is to be away from home, facing the unknown, hoping for guidance, and wanting peace and freedom.   I will hold what you hold dear until your return.”

 

King Goodinhale did not feel any more at ease. The rush to prepare for the festival and the voyage, the dreams, trying to spend time with his family, trying to be a good King;  all this weighed heavy on him.  For the first time in his life, he felt tired, and frightened, and wanted to stay home and protect the ones he loved the most.  Spending time with his children and wife alleviated most of his thoughts and burdens.  Chasing his daughter Cassy through the topiary hedges in one garden or playing badminton with his family on one of the lawns brought him joy, but then Polaris would interrupt with some crisis or Gronchel would approach with numbers.  Only the presence of Oronia and Hatalie eased him as much as his family and helped him make peace with the journey ahead of him.  Spending time with Hatalie helped because he was already long away from his home and had many burdens put upon him even more unexpectedly than the King.  Hatalie was not even a man that was trained all his life to expect and accept such burdens and responsibilities since he was a child as the King had been trained.  After spending time with Hatalie, he found his dreams were not so bad either, and he could hide who he was better from the force that seemed to be trying to drag him down.  Oronia was as a wide-eyed child, but sure and strong and unafraid of death or any horror that might arise.  Her only fear seemed to be that they would be unsuccessful in saving Catalie in time.  That they might fail somehow, not just Catalie, but everyone who was depending on them, though she only lit on her fear once, and then it seemed to disappear as if she wiped away a piece a dust from her hand.  King Goodinhale felt the responsibility of their journey as a heavy weight he carried all the time.  The more he felt this way, the more he knew he was right.  Oronia and Hatalie would have to lead most of the quest.  Hatalie, because he was there to serve.  Servants always put the best of the all before themselves.  He would die rather than fail.  Oronia was the same way, though she would never serve another.  She was a Princess who was as brave as any warrior he had.  How did they every convince Noctorn to settle for peace?  The women certainly could overpower any of his warriors, but then he remembered, the women were also very intelligent and had been the overwhelming influence for the push towards peace.  King Noctorn was right.  No one could deny the women of Noctorn anything they wanted. 

 

As he sat and watched his children dance under the stars, on the lawn as his wife sat next to him on the ornate bench holding his hand quietly as he ruminated, he thought of how they would see the same moon, the same stars, and he could look up and know by the stars that they were safe, just as he had done in the days of traveling for peace and trade.   He squeezed his wife’s hand, and she leaned her head on his shoulder then said, “Five more days?”  Then sighed.  “Yes,” he replied.  “Well, I know you will do what you have to do to come home safe to us.  I don’t think any country or family could ask for a better leader, a truer soul, a braver King, and stronger shoulder than what we have.  You will not fail, and we will be safe.  Neopolis and Natalie are already quite helpful, but both say they will not wed until you return.  They know it may be years, but they say they will serve me and our Kingdom until you return.  They are such children still.  Remember when we were their age?”

 

“Yes.  I remember my first Light Ball when I met you.  You shown brighter than all the lights.  I couldn’t take my eyes off of you.  I was sure you had placed a spell on me.”

 

“Only the same one you place on me.”   A ball fell in Eileen’s lap.  She threw the glowing ball back to her girls.

 

“The Light Ball is in three days, the festival starts tomorrow.  I hope you will be able to enjoy some of the festivities.”

 

“I’m sure I will.”

 

“Then smile.”  She was torn.  Should she tell him?  She knew that it would burden him further, but how could she not tell him?  “Lounge, I must tell you.  I am pregnant.”

 

Lounge’s face lit up, then his brow furrowed, and he looked at his hands, and whispered, “I must go, but you have helped me.  I will go as Lounge, not as a Sire or King.  That will hide my name and true identity from the demon.  Hatalie will lead.  I will be his servant.”

 

“No.”  Hatalie came around the corner of the cat topiary.

 

“Hatalie.”

 

“Oronia.  If you do not lead – Oronia.”

 

“But some men will not follow a woman.”

 

“I beg your pardon.” Eileen looked cross.

 

“You know it is true.” Lounge replied somewhat defeated.

 

“Perhaps, but Neopolis was not the only entertaining, planning, and working for the Festival of Grapes for the Highland Monks in your absence.  They actually told me that Neopolis did a fine job, but it was I that made their visit and the festivities successful.  Oronia is ten times the woman I am, and that maker her twenty times better to lead than any man!”

 

“Thank you, “Oronia, aid as she seemed to materialize from the air.

 

“It is true that the women of Nocturn are irresistible.  If you ask, I could not deny you,” said Lounge with a smile at seeing both Hatalie and Oronia, while his daughters played wish ball behind them.  He felt a sense of peace wash over him.  He even began to truly feel wonderful about a new baby.

 

“You are right.  There are some men who will not follow a woman, but no one said there had to be one leader either.  On the ships, Captain Towmes knows the most.  Lounge – we will always look to you for guidance.  Whoever you look to, we will follow, and your men will follow.  You should still be the one, but I think you are right about everyone calling you Lounge.”

 

Lounge took a deep breath and exhaled.  A weight had been lifted.

 

“You are right.  I just feel the need to hide myself further.  I must be the one.  I just haven’t trusted myself without you and Hatalie.”

 

“I felt that,” said Eileen.  “It is as if a cloud follows his heart, and he cannot breathe, but then you two appear, and he becomes himself again.”

 

“We will stay by you then.  If you need us before the journey, you know where we are,” Oronia seemed to disappear into a curtsy and was gone.  Hatalie remained, “May I play wish ball with the girls awhile before we leave for supper?  They were teaching me yesterday, but I think I need some practice since they beat me quite handily last evening.”

 

Lounge smiled his full smile, “Perhaps, they are cheating, and two against one hardly seems fair.  What if I help even the odds?”

 

Lounge stood up and rushed towards his girls.  His confidence had returned, and he felt relaxed for the first time since the bad dreams had started.

 

Lounge and Hatalie made the wish ball game fun and exciting for the girls, but in the end, both fathers had to let Cassie and Talia win.

 

“I think they cheat, somehow,” Lounge said breathing heavy and smiling.

 

Eileen laughed as the two men played against her daughters.  She felt as if they were finally a family again; she had her Lounge back.  She stood up at the end of the game and ran towards him and jumped into his arms, giggling like a young girl.  “We better get inside for supper before Cook spanks us for being late!”

 

“One, you are a not a young girl and are much heavier, now that you are pregnant, again, and are lucky I didn’t drop you or but a rib.  Two, if anyone is going to spank you, it will be me!”  At this, Lounge placed Eileen back on the ground and patted her behind.  Eileen ran away, dashing between hedges and topiary, giggling and shrieking with joy as Lounge skipped after her.  Talia and Cassie rolled on the ground holding their stomachs and laughing with complete abandon until tears ran down their cheeks. 

 

Hatalie stood in awe at the scene.  He found himself joyful, yet sad.  He was glad to see Lounge relaxed and happy, but he missed his old life.  He was homesick for his family and Catalie.  He missed the Sosna’s and his daily routine.  As he watched the magical family painting moving in front of him, he felt a hand gently touch his shoulder.  For a moment he dreamt his wife was standing next to him, watching his children play.  He felt some peace, and heard a voice inside of him say, “Don’t worry.  I am with you.  There is a power higher than even the Gods that guides us.  All was intended to be, but the story has not been written yet, and no one knows what will happen.  Do your best, and what is meant to be will be, and even when time seems to end, and there appears to be no new road to travel, and you think the story is over, do not be surprised if you continue.  I must go and whisper to other souls, but will be with you when you need me.”

 

Time went by so slow for the moment the voice filled him then sped up again.  Someone was speaking to him. “…your family.”  The voice was feminine, yet strong.  Hatalie turned his head, and realized Oronia was standing next to him with her arm around him, and was talking.  He seemed to be looking through her.  “Hatalie?”  He blinked his eyelids a few times.  “Are you ok?” 

 

“Yes, just someplace else.”

 

“I thought you whispered something.”

 

“What?”

 

“There is something more powerful than the Gods.”

 

“That is true.”

 

“Hey!  That’s a married man, Oronia!” Lounge teased.  “I will have to keep Hatalie safe from you for his wife!”

 

“But first, we should all have supper, “said Eileen, breathless from the chase.

 

Chapter 7

 

Eileen woke early the next morning before the sun.  She bathed and freshened and put on a sparkling day gown.  She knew the parade merry-makers were doing the same.  Her Jora came and made her shine and feel beautiful and young.  She would be riding on the Refraction Float with millions of prisms creating rainbows everywhere.  Her daughters would be riding on the float with her.  The Jora had tended them first.  Lounge would sit in the Royal Box with Polaris Hatalie, and Oronio.  King Som and Natalie would be on the Shadows Float.  Bands would play and march in the parade as well as clowns.  Birds would fly through the air with garlands of flowers.  Other floats would be mirror floats, seashell floats, and a big glass bowl float with ladies dressed like fish.  Song and merriment would fill the air. 

            The sun was not up yet, but Eileen could feel the excitement of the day buzzing in the air.  Eileen never had a plan for her life.  She had no regrets.  She hoped the child was a son, but, besides that, there was nothing she lacked.  Her life had been one great surprise.  She felt guided by something and followed the path.  She was a woman of infinite grace, wisdom, and strength.  She had decided to write to Hatalie’s family.  She had a feeling that Bethany would be a kindred spirit.  She looked at herself in the mirror once more and decided she was the essence of rainbows.  “Truly prismatic!”  She smiled and the Jora opened the doors as she opened her arms to receive her two rainbow girls.

            Hatalie awoke before the sun had peaked over the edge of the horizon.  He had slept well.  It was a day of joy and celebration, and he felt like celebrating.  He felt different, somehow, today.  A weight had been lifted from the air, and he could move and breathe again.

            Polaris had not slept.  He had found another section of the locket that was a puzzle:  four compartments that had dry minerals of some sort, but under water, which he could not pour out to get to the minerals.  He had tried many ways to remove the water, but could not.  Tetora and Jacinta Jora entered through Polaris’ trapdoor before the sun came up. 

 

                                    “Polaris, “spoke Tetora.

                         “Hmmmmm. Oh, Jora!   I hadn’t noticed your arrival.” 

            “You have not slept,” said Jacinta.

                        “No.”

                                    “You must prepare for the festivities.  Hatalie will await you on his balcony for breakfast.  Gronchel, Lounge, and Oronia will join you there as well,” said Tetora.

            “Wait.  All night you have tried to figure out the puzzle – and you will go nowhere without a solution or some progress.  Have you tried asking the water to move?”  Jacinta understood.

                        “Why, Jacinta Jora, that is the silliest unscientific thing I have ever heard. “

            “You would have to believe it would work.”

                                    “She does have the sight.”

 

            Polaris felt beaten, but he had to trust the Jora, but he could not seem to muster belief.

           

            “What if I ask first?  You would have proof then you could believe and ask yourself.”

                        “Yes, Jacinta.  That does sound reasonable.”  Polaris opened the section of the locket and held the puzzle in the palm of his hand in front of Jacinta’s face.

            “Water, would you please move aside.  Polaris would like to see the dry dirt under you.  He will only take a little bit to study then you can return to your place.  He would be most appreciative.”

            The still water came in waves, lapping the edge of the locket then lifted into the air in one piece.

            Polaris stared in wonderment and amazement at the sight. “Take only what you need, “said Jacinta touching Polaris’ hand lightly to move him from his frozen silence.

            “Yes,” he grabbed four clean vials and four small clean scoops.  He carefully scooped one dry mineral into a vial, leaving the scoop, then Tetora handed him a new pair of clean vial and scoop.  As he finished with the last, the water returned to its place and was still again.

                        “Thank you,” said all three at the same time to the water.  They smiled at each other with the understanding they were now bound by this one moment.  None would ever be the same.

            “I will be on Hatalie’s balcony presently.”

The Jora bowed and exited the room backwards, as they always did.

 

            Polaris verified the vials were secure then prepared for a breakfast.  He felt refreshed, as if he had slept all night.

 

            Oronia slept well, rose, dressed for the day, then hopped down to Hatalie’s balcony.  Sazly Jora had poured a cup of saphire tea for Oronia then disappeared. 

            Oronia expected Hatalie to walk out on the balcony next, but Gronchel came out with some papers in hand, rubbing the top of his head and flipping pages.

            Sazly floated by him with two plates of food and a cup of onyx brew for the soldier.  She placed a plate and the cup in front of Gronchel as he sat in an empty chair – unaware of his surroundings and staring at the papers still.  Sazly place the other plate in front of Oronia.  The Jora always amazed her.  She began to eat, silently.  The pungent smell of the onyx brew and plat of food finally broke Gronchel from his papers, which he peeked over, saw the food, put the papers on an empty chair, and grabbed the cup of onyx brew.  He sipped then looked over at Oronia.

            “Good morning.  How did I get here?  How long have you been here?”

                        “Oh, I was first – as usual.  You must’ve just gone by instincts to Hatalie’s balcony.

            “Yes. Yes.  Hatalie is trying to squeeze another day out of me.  I think I’ve been able to do it.  Just checking my numbers.  Will have to check with the Queen, sometime.  She wanted a day without Festivals and duties for family and goodbyes, and I thought we would need that day for preparations as well, but I’ve got women and a few Jora’s working too –“

                        “Yes?”

            “Well, we could probably leave tomorrow or the last day of the Festival, honestly.  Everyone should be able to enjoy the last Festival day.  Then, we leave the next morning.”

                        “Well, Hatalie would prefer earlier, and the Queen would prefer later.  I believe the compromise is fair.  You would be taking a day away from each.”

            “True.  If I phrase the point that way – I just need to schedule with her Jora a moment to approach her on the subject – today.”

                        “Oh, is that all – Good-luck with that!” Oronia laughed.  Gronchel smiled.  Eyes locked then turned to Polaris walking through the door.

            Oronia thought, “What was that?  I mean.  He’s a common Gronchel.  I felt something odd.  I’m not sure if I like that.”  Gronchel wasn’t sure in his mind what had happened.  Polaris was talking.  He was eating and sipping his brew and nodding at Polaris, but, mostly, he seemed locked in the laughter and eyes of Oronia at that one moment in time.  He didn’t dare look her way again.  It was as if something inside him had been broken, and he was afraid.  Sazly touched his shoulder, and the world came back into focus again.  She didn’t’ say a word, just replaced his plate of food with more and refilled his cup.

            “…so, anyhow, then I tried fire.  Thank you, Sazly.  The Jora are so wonderful.  I was just thinking of a berry tart after my mean and more onyx brew.  Anyhow, as you can imagine, that didn’t work either.”  Gronchel still felt lost, but Oronia said, “Amazing!”

            “Yes. Yes.”

                        “Hatalie!”  Gronchel was grateful for Hatalies’ entrance.  “Where have you been?”

                                    “For a walk in the gardens.  The decorations are so beautiful.  No one could claim Goodinhale to be a lazy town.”

            Sazly flitted about with two more plates and cups.  As soon as Hatalie sat down, Lounge walked through the balcony doors.  “And, where have you been?” Asked Polaris.

            “I slept in.  I just got out of bed, really.  Best sleep in… a long time, it seems.”

                        “Is the Queen still about?”

            “Oh, no, Gronchel.  The Queen and the girls were gone long before I awoke.  I didn’t wake until I heard the music playing to greet the dawn.  We should be able to see the musicians and crowd at the shore from here.  The Queen and the girls are probably at the floats getting prepared for the parade.”

                                    “We do have some time before we have to take our seats in the Royal Box.  Don’t we?” Asked Polaris.

            “Sure.  We have a few hours, at least.”

                                    “As I was telling Oronia and Gronchel, I found another secret section of the locket-compass, quite by accident, sometime after dinner last night.  I want to get back to it.  I was up all night getting nowhere then Tetora and Jacinta came to get me going for breakfast, and – Walla!  A breakthrough!  I can’t wait to get back to it, but I’m sure Hatalie’s Jora will not let me miss my duties at the parade and elsewhere.”

                                                “Why don’t you have your own Jora?” Asked Hatalie.

            “None could serve Polaris well, only by accident.”  Lounge laughed.

                                    Polaris blushed, “It is true.  I do best alone, for the most part.  My lifestyle is not suited for the Jora groups.”

                                                “Though you feel free to depend on my Jora?”  Hatalie smiled.

                                    “Well, only by accident and association, or to please you – which is their job.  Right?”

 

The company around the table joined in laughter.

            “Now, now- we should not laugh at Polaris’ expense.  We would all miss him at the parade.  My Jora are too busy with my family,” said King Lounge.

                                    “With that, I shall take my leave, good friends, and join you later.” Polaris smiled.

Gronchel then excused himself to find the Queen.

            Oronia said, “Well, what shall the three of us do until duty calls?”

            “Well, I think I will pack up more stuff for the trip, if the Queen agrees to us leaving a day earlier.  Then I’ll go to the seashore to enjoy some of the festivities, “Lounge said.

                                    “You still have packing to do?” Oronia asked.

                                                “I, too, am packed and ready to go,” said Hatalie to Oronia.

            “I have been dragging my feet.  It is hard to leave again, so soon, but I will be ready,” replied Lounge.

                                    “Hatalie and I could go to the seashore, and you could meet us there later.”

            “Okay.  See you then.”

 

            As Hatalie walked to the seashore, lights seemed to be falling from the sky.  Bright objects full of light floated down from above, but when they landed on him, the objects would burst with color and cool his skin without leaving a mark.

                                    “Fizzles.” Oronia said.  “Refreshing.  The first time I came to the Festival of Lights, they were my favorite part.  Polaris invented them.  I believe it was one of his first inventions.  I’m not sure how they work, but they do bring memories...”

            “Oronia! Oronia!”

                                    “Oh, my!”  It is Mesme from Freetle!”

            “Who is your golden friend?”

                                    “Mesme, it is so good to see you!  I haven’t seen you since…”

            “The first lights festival- I know!”

 

Mesme looked like she could be from Boron or Goshonon, but also was different somehow.  Lighter?  Brighter?  Taller?  Hatalie, usually the most observant in the room, could not decipher the difference.  The ladies talked while they walked, and he tried to figure out what Mesme was.

                                    “Hatalie, this is Mesme, my best friend.  We write, often, but haven’t seen each other in years.  She is from Freetle.  The lands over the mountains past Boron.”

            “You have to cross a few rivers too – eh?”

                                    “Oh, yeah!  I remember the time I came to visit!  How could I forget?”

The ladies laughed, sharing a private joke.

                                    “Hatalie is from Chromos, across the ocean.  On the other side of the world.”

            “My word!”

                                    “In a few days, we are taking him home.”

            “You’re leaving?”

                                    “Yes.”

            “Oh.”

                                    “Hey!  Come with!”

            “Really?”

                                    “Yeah-after the Jora and Zanear leave on Cypia, I’m the only female.”

            “Company.” Mesme said shaking her head up and down and smiling.

                                    “Y’dad?”

            “Choicesmuch? – no.”

                                    “Yeah, but you practically run Freetle now.  Who would take your place?”

            “Deeter?” Both ladies busted-out laughing. “Hey, have some light-candy – it melts in your mouth.”  Mesme handed sticks with some type of white glowing material spun on top of each stick.  Hatalie bit into the sweet light material that did melt in his mouth.  “Wow!” He said. 

            “He speaks?”  The ladies laughed again.  “Between dad and Nesa, they can lead.”

                                    “Yeah.  True.  Sizen could help.”

            “Sure. See.  It is settled.  I will come.”

                                                “We’d have to talk to the group.”

                                    “Hatalie, they won’t hesitate to have Mesme along.”

                                                “Why?”

                                    “Oh, that is right.  Not many know about Freetles.”

            “Don’t you have to be a royal pain to know about Freetles?”

                                    “No, Mesme, that is to know Calpisians!” More laughter Hatalie did not understand.

            “You better be careful.  Zon, from Calpi, is here too.”

                                    “Everyone came this year.”

            “I also saw some monks, Takusans, Cypians, Syties, and even a Golden Man!”

                                                “So, what is special about Freetles?  She almost looks like a Boron, but is obviously different in many ways I can detect, and perhaps some ways I cannot detect?”

                                    “True.”

            “Yes.  Leave it until tonight.  Come to my room.  We can go to the balcony – I will show you some.”

                                                “What shall we do until then?” Asked Hatalie.

“I know!  Enjoy the seashore, watch the parade, feast, swim, see the Light Drama Show, feast, enjoy the pyrotechnics, make wishes, sleep – then more!  And maybe you should ask what is so special about a Golden Man –eh?”

 

            “Hello, King Goodin….”

“Lounge, please.  Especially, if you join us on our voyage.”

            “Yes. King….Lounge.”

“Looks like we might catch the beginning of the marathon on the sea.”

            “Yes, Lounge.”

 

-                                   -                                   -                                   -                                   -                                  

 

 

            Polaris entered his room.  Something had changed.  Something smelled different about the air.  He looked towards the vials.  Out of one vial grew a large tree that had flowers and fruit growing on it. “Amazing.”  He began testing the fruit, the flowers, the tree, and the other powders in the vials.  A grain of powder and a touch of water.  Nothing.  A touch of fire.  Nothing.  A touch from my finger.  “Well, here’s something.”

 

-                                   -                                   -                                   -                                   -

 

“She said yes.”  Gronchel imparted to the group in the King’s Box. 

            “Did you have to say much?” Asked Lounge.

“No.  She looked at me and smiled, then said, “ You do what must be done.” Cassie gave me a kiss on the cheek and told me to come home safe.”

            “Yes.  That is my Cassie.”

                        “Gronchel, meet Mesme.”

“Nice to meet you.  Are you from Boron?”

                                    “No.”

“Goshonon?”

                                    “No.”

“Hmmm. I can’t place you.”

                        “She is my best friend from Freetle,”Oronia said almost angrily.

                                    “Oronia, he is a common soldier in times of peace.  Though he does have a spark about him, so I don’t blame you – sweet- but don’t get angry for me.   Really.”

“I have heard of Freetle.  I’ve just never seen anyone…”

                        “Of course not.  Freetles are private beings.”

“I heard once, from an old soldier that Freetles…”

                                    “Curiousmuch?  Come to my room tonight, and I will satisfy…”

                        “Hey, he doesn’t have to come, does he?” Asked Oronia.

                                    “The voyage will be long.  You think more won’t be discovered in time?” Answered Mesme.

                                                “Amazing.” Polaris said as he joined the group.  “Oh, Mesme – good to see you.  How’s Nesa, Deeter, Frill, and Zeffier.”

                                    “Good.”

                                                “Tripp’nmuch?”

                                    “Voyagyn.  Wity’all.”

                                                “Sweetness.  Dangerousmuch.”

                                    “DPT. Whatever.”

                                                “Yono. Pissn, but cited.”

                                    “Infinite.”

                                                “Yeah.”

 

            Hatalie hoped they would stop talking like that.  It was annoying.  He didn’t know why he didn’t like Freetlespeak.  He just didn’t.  It was if they had a secret, but let you hear enough of the conversation so you understand bits and pieces, but then were curious for the complete picture, but you weren’t going to be let in on the secret.  They were a private people.  Perhaps, they had to develop their speech in such a way for survival.  Though it still felt like a tease or manipulation, but…

                                    “…But if you understand it, you can preserve your words and breath.”  Mesme whispered in his ear finishing his thought.

 

            “Do you also feel free to read minds whenever you please?”  Hatalie said angrily.

                                    “Oh.  We don’t have that talent.  But I have seen the look on your face many times before.”

            “You picked up on my thoughts.”

                                    “No.  We can’t do that.  I so wanted you to like me.  I thought we might understand each other better than most.  Being different, outcast and all of that.”

            “You don’t look any different than most on that side of the world.”

                        “But looks can be deceiving.  Let’s watch the parade, and perhaps, you will give me another chance at your friendship?”

            “Of course.”

 

The parade started with marching musicians and a float with a seashore motif with the top eight winners of the marathon.  A Nocturn woman came in first place.  Swimming, running, sailing, then running – but on their hands.  The shadows float came next.  Moving darkness with hints of light.  Some clowns, dancers, more musicians then the mirror float.  Acrobats, jugglers, horses, then the water float.  Creatures of various types, musicians, then the rainbow float.  Marching soldiers, flame throwers, baton twirlers then the last float with the Queen of the Light Festival singing a song and light streaming under her and up to the sky.  The Queen of the Light Festival had been chosen from all the Goodinhale women by the Royal family.  There were many contests and tests she had to complete to become Queen of the Light Festival.  Hatalie thought her singing was beautiful.

            The parade ended, and the crowds started to disburse. 

“After lunch, we have to attend the awards ceremony.  Best float and such stuff.  Lunch consists of various items the townspeople have made.  They will all have to be judged and give prizes.  Their prizes come tomorrow.  Then swimming.  Is it hot today?”

                        “Yes!”

“Let’s go judge some food!”

 

-                                   -                                   -                                   -

 

The night was filled with glowing wishes floating up to the darkness of the night sky.  Hatalie had joined Gronchel and Oronia in Mesme's room.  They stood on the balcony and watched all the wishes floating up in the sky.  Mesme’s Jora had drinks appropriate for each person.

“Okay.  Mesme of Freetle.  What makes you different?”

            She looked at Gronchel and Hatalie then began to glow.  Wings unfurled from her back.  The wings were colorful, and not feathered like a bird's, but more like a butterflies.  She flew up in the sky, slightly glowing, while darting around the orb wishes floating up.  She landed on the balcony, in precisely the same spot then did a pirouette. 

“Lovely,” said Gronchel.

            “In the past, our people were caged, kept as pets, used for experiments, usually involving wings being ripped off.  Trophies and decoration.  We all once spoke eloquently all the time, as I do now, but created a shorthand language to protect ourselves and each other.  Those that could, left Freetle and flew up to the highest mountain tops that they could find.  We lived in caves and trees.  We lived far from the grasp of land dwellers.  We learned to hide our wings.  My grandfather returned to the land of Freetle.  It was in ruins, deserted, and desolate.  He was sitting on a bench in the overgrown gardens of the castle.  His father had told him stories of sitting in the garden on the same bench as a child.  He had hidden his wings and was throwing stoned into a pond.  He heard horses coming, but he did not move.  A handful of white skinned land dwellers road up to him.  Larz did not leave his horse, but spoke – “May we let our horses drink from your pond?”  My grandfather, not a young man any longer, just looked up at Larz.  “Do you know where the mythical land of Freetle might be?  I’m King Goodinhale.  I’m hoping to find some Freetles…”

            “To eat?” Said my grandfather.

“No, to befriend.  I have set the peace.  I have traveled far to spread the word and find those that still live from the Barbaric Days and the more recent Days of War.  We have found very little literature or maps of these lands, but had one reference for the lands of Freetle.  We guess this may be where a people once lived and flourished, but besides you, we have seen no others and fear we may have come too late with peace to Freetle.”

            “I have only arrived here today.  I was searching for a home, a peace, a memory of a life I never knew.  What do you know of Freetles?”

“Nothing.  There were children’s stories that mentioned Freetles, but they were described as creatures to stay away from.  Evil creatures that would steal children if the did not behave.  They would eat the children.  Such stories have been banned and are only kept in the library of the past so we never forget.”

            “I am a Freetle.”

“Are you the last?”

            “No, but I won’t lead you to the others.  I do not trust you.”

“That would have to be earned.”

            “Yes.”

“You do not look like an evil creature.  You look like a lighter, slenderer, politer, and more graceful Boronian.  You seem to have a bit of a glow about you, but other than that – the buildings and evidence that is left of Freetle looks like a peaceful, cultured, and highly intelligent society.  So why the stories?”

            “Sometimes, people fear what they do not understand or that is different than themselves.”

“Yes.  I have found this to be true.  Also, trust is hard to come by when so much abuse and war have only prepared many peoples for distrust.  The Highland Monks begin to trust, but put us to task.  The said, if we found any surviving Freetle and gained even the slightest confidence from one Freetle then they might allow us to use the pass more freely to enter Nocturn.  Since you are the only Freetle I know, I desire your confidence – how may I gain it?”

 

My poor grandfather did not know what to do.  “Do you have an extra horse?”

 

“We can repack the horses.  I will take a pack horse, and you can have mine.”

            “Then I will ride with you to see what you do.  I am not young, and if you wish to kill me, then only an old Freetle is lost.  The risk for hope and a return to our homelands is worth the cost.  A man proves his truth through his actions not his words.  This is the only way.”

 

My grandfather, Sile, road with King Larz and ten of the King’s men.  There was no one to be seen in any of the Freetle towns.  No evidence of flight or wings.  Sile did not reveal his wings.  Calpi was the next stop.  Calpisians were kind people who where hurt  much by Barbarians and War –though they fought and became strong and survived, they were not open and trusting as they had once been.  The Calpisians shot arrows first, asked questions – never.

            Sile and Larz left some men behind as they drew nearer to the gated fortress of the heart of Calpi.  Sile had traveled long in the company of land dwellers, and found Larz’s company very pleasant.  The stories of peace and trials that lead to the present day.  They had found food together, got lost, talked about the stars, and shared some secrets, but not all.  They had met pockets of survivors and breathed new life into their hopeless faces.  They helped rebuild little villages – taught agricultural techniques and shared cooking secrets as well as hygiene rituals.  They gave gifts of clothes, wine, and horses when they could.  Some Calpisians joined the group traveling towards the heart of Calpi and the main gates.  They thought they may have better luck surviving if a Calpisian was with them.  On the way, they met five men on horseback, who immediately charged Larz’s men with spears and swords drawn, killing several in the group.  Larz shouted, “Kill me if you must, but spare Sile, he may be the last Freetle – please!”

            The men stopped their attack.  “A Freetle.  But they’ve been gone so long.  None survived your people: The Boron, the Goshonon, the Torrez, and the Goodinhale.  Their beauty will never be seen again.  They were our friends.”

            “I am a Freetle, but not the last.  Do you see?  You have killed two Calpisians and three of Larz’s men.  They were not allowed to fight back.  You can kill us all or help us spread the peace to Calpi.”

 

“Prove you are a Freetle.”

            “I will only do so when I stand in front of the Calpisian King with Larz, alone.”

“Say something the way Freetles would say after the horrors began, and before the disappeared.  The talk they made to hide the words.”

            Know you the way?”

“Freetle once held sand slip. Calpi sand.”

            “Catchnit.”

“Tagious?”

            “Frinkintink.”

“Hale?”

            “Hale.”

“Trippn.  I’ll go with you.  The rest better stay here.  Calpi’s look for food.  That is why we are out in the open.  Sile, my name is Zoronic.  You, Larz, come too.”

            “He is the King of Goodinhale.”

“What? But why would you travel and risk yourself.  Our King would never do such a thing.  Fear rules our day.  Our people starve because the gate will not be allowed open to hunt.  The dirt cannot be shoveled in case our enemies try to tunnel under the walls or someone tries to tunnel out; thus, allowing our enemies in. The heart of Calpi is not a refuge – it is a prison.  Everything must be approved through the King.  For five soldiers to come hunting and foraging for a week starting today, we submitted for approval last winter.  It was approved, with exceptions, a week ago.  Most requests for anything are denied.  Women are killed if they get pregnant without approval.”

            “Sani.”

“Yes.  Perhaps, not a prison, but a Sanitarium.  The Queen and her daughter try to help the people as much as possible and work around the King the best they can.  His daughter won’t eat; she is ill and weak now.  She won’t eat until there is enough food for all.  We were approved quickly for this trip – comparatively speaking – because of her hunger strike.”

 

                        “It appears I may have also come here too late, Sile.”

            “No.  Let us try.”

The three road up to the gates.  The arrows flew past as warning shots. “Zoronic? Who do you have there?”

 

“A King from Goodinhale, and a Freetle.  Met on the road – need immediate audience with King Ziron.”

 

“Ciao.”

 

“QB.”

 

“SitchSec.”

 

“We speak the Freetle taught to hide from King Loyals to try to make things better.  My friend, Zalion, will get us in.”

 

The gat squeaked open, slightly.  The men dismounted the horses and rolled under the small opening.  A young woman greeted them.  “Follow me-“ she said.  They ducked down back allies, went through houses, stuck to shadows, and lifted a bed n one house and were under the city being led, quickly, by torch light.  They had heard a loud voice yelling about the gate opening, but upon further investigation, it was apparent that a spring had snapped; thus, opening the gate slightly.  The repair was made quickly.  They were climbing stairs, then ladders on walls.  Finally, the young lady tapped a rhythm on a ceiling – and light flooded into the underground passage where the three men hung on a ladder affixed to a dirt wall.  A frail, gently hand reached down and helped each person out of the darkness.  They were in a stately room, walking out from a hidden door in the floor of a huge fireplace.  There was an opulent bed across from the fireplace.  If she hadn’t moved, you would not know she was there, a wisp of a young woman, sat up, and smiled. The effort must’ve been enormous for her.  Another woman, older, dressed beautifully, with dark circles under her eyes greeted them.  “You have met Ziash, my lady in waiting.  You see my daughter, Zfini, and I, your humble servant, Zenia.”

            All bowed to the Queen.  But she did not look up form her bow, and tears dripped on the floor from her face.  King Larz lifted her head, gently, with his hand, found a handkerchief that was clean in his pocket, knelt and handed the white linen to her.  “As fair a lady as yourself should never have a tear grace her face – ever.”

“Thank you.  My husband…the fear that once protected us and helped us survive has grown.  It is now killing us.  He will not hear this from anyone.  He will not be moved.  My hope- a Freetle may awake him from the blinding, cancerous fear.  King Larz, you are as good as dead if the Freetle cannot save you.  We all are.”  She looked toward her daughter.  “The King is coming to this room to see his daughter.  Even though we have told him she is ill, he does not hear it.  He says our enemies have breached the castle and poisoned her.  They will pay – or someone who he decides is the enemy will pay.  Hide behind those curtains.  He will be here…” a knock in rhythmic staccato with several bells and whistles was heard at the door.  Ziash was at the door and knocked and whistled and clucked.  There were more knocks and a snort then Ziash opened the door. “How is my daughter today?  You must eat and drink more to flush our enemies poison out of you.”

 

“I want you to meet some friends.”

            “We have no friends.”

“A Freetle.”

            “The Freetle are extinct.”

 

Zoronic opened the curtain revealing himself, Sile and Larz. 

            “You will all die.  You poisoners!” Ziron drew his sword.  Sile unfurled his wings and flew up into the air and glowed.  Silence, swords dropped, all fell to their knees and looked up.  Sile said to Ziron, “Yold. Canst. Halestime. Freetlesin FreetleZbak.”  Sile landed.  Larz said, “I’m not sure what Sile said, but as for me, I bring peace, prosperity, tools, food, whatever you need to come back to the world.”

 

            “If a Freetle be with you, then you are true.  Open the gates.  Let us find the merriment again that history tells can be amongst the world.  Let us never let the darkness and fear touch us again.”

 

“Only Royal will see a Freetle’s wings besides a Freetle.  We will wish for secrecy, privacy, community, until we can rebuild and rejoice truly with the world.”

 

                        “Why? You are beautiful.”

“We were hunted and kept and tortured – like animals.  We may never completely feel comfortable amongst land dwellers who are all the same.”

 

                        “Have you ever met a Nocturn woman or a sea dweller who lives between the islands of Cypia and Takus?”


”No.”

                        “Then, wait, my good friend, Sile.  You have many adventures and discoveries before you, but your secret is safe.  Look in our eyes.  You can see, we will be true and do as you wish.  We all just want the Freetles to come home.  I must return home – but want to hear from you all if you have needs.  I want to see you all at a Festival of Merriment in Goodinhale before Winter takes ahold of the sea.  You will come, and we will discover together the merriment of the world read in the histories. Will you agree?”

 

“Yes.”

 

The rule has not changed.  Though we use our own discretion as to who we reveal ourselves to.  The myths still talk of Freetles that fly, but we still keep to ourselves, and show ourselves to few.  As time has gone by, the trust has returned, but the rule stands and serves us well.”

 

Chapter 8

 

The morning was full of song.  Hatalie could hear birds singing, people singing, songs from everywhere.  Notes floated in on the breeze, and melodies glided across the sky.  He bathed and dressed and stepped out on his balcony and took a deep breath.  The sun sat on the horizon of infinite water.  The rays of the sun glistened on the waves. The songs ended and complete silence enveloped the world.  All he could hear were the waves whispering against the shore.  The moment of silence.  Programs had been handed out yesterday morning.  The songs would be heard, then a moment of silence would be observed for those who could attend this year, for one reason, or another, for the past that once battered these shores and made the air thick with the smoke of the dead, for the present that fills hearts with joy, and for the future that is full of hope and promise.  Hatalie wondered what his wife and children were doing.  How the Sosna family was surviving the frozen Catalie.  He wondered about the people that looked like him, who lived so far away, no others had ever seen them or journeyed to their lands.  He thought of the Spirits and Janfreez and his three children.  How had the world become such a mess?  How had the Spirits let their world become such a mess, and how could they let the mess affect the people?  From the stories, the reasons sounded the same as most reasons: jealousy, envy, misunderstandings, hate, and judging before knowing.  He almost felt sorry for the son with no name, and didn’t want to fight him or hurt him, but he didn’t see a way yet to restore Catalie without doing some harm to him.  No name did not understand how Janfreez loved him, but maybe now hated him for killing his other two children.  But could he?  Would Hatalie hate any of his children for this reason?  He couldn’t even imagine having to ever answer that question.

            Sazly had walked onto the balcony and left a plate of food and some prettle tea.  She stopped beside Hatalie and bowed her head.  Then the silence ended with shouts or hooray and other such words meaning the same thing.  Sazly turned to walk away, but Hatalie stopped her.  “Sazly, I hardly ever see you take a moment to yourself.  Do you mind me asking why?”

            “I have many friends who no longer grace this world with their presence.  I always take a moment in the silence to connect with them again.  The rest is serving.  That is my joy.  I do have a pet cat that also brings me purring joy, but that would be all.  I do not appreciate the frivolities of the world.  A purpose is what most fills my heart and makes each new day a joy to wake up to.  With the Jora, I do not have much need for anything or other relationships.  I have read all the books I can and know as much as I can.  I do like to learn new things, but that would be all.  I’m afraid there isn’t much else to Sazly.  Must seem boring to you.”

            “Not at all Sazly.  Your life seems peaceful and uncomplicated.  Mine was, fairly, once.”

“Except, you are the only man, or family, with golden skin.  That has created complications for you often.  Just as I am very white, thin, no hair, and purple eyes.  You do not see many like me, but my history is here.  Before the wars, most Goodinhale looked more like me than the Goodinhales of today.  I look at myself as an early stage in evolution.”  A dazzling smile rarely seen on Sazly appeared, then quickly disappeared, just as she did.  She returned quickly with another plate and onyx brew.  Hatalie could tell Gronchel would be walking through the door any moment.  He sat down to his own breakfast and watched Sazly bring another plate and cup as she followed behind Gronchel.

*If you have been reading, then here is more: 10/08/2008-

            “A bright and beautiful day,” said Gronchel. 

 

            “I must agree,” said Oronia hopping down from her balcony to Hatalie’s.

 

            Memse flew in, then Polaris, and King Lounge joined the group on Hatalie’s balcony.  All agreed the day was a spectacularly bright and beautiful one.  Gronchel informed everyone that the preparations should be finished by this evening.  “Well, today we have the horse races,  kite flying, surfing competitions, hot air balloon rides, award ceremonies, bow and arrow competitions, the History Drama play, the school children’s presentations, and the sand sculpture contest.  We will end the day with the ocean of light ceremony and dancing on the beach,” said King Lounge.

            “Why can’t you do some of that tomorrow?” Asked Hatalie.  “There doesn’t appear to be much on the program tomorrow besides the Festival of Lights Ball and a little ceremony in the morning.

            “Because, the women take most of the day “preparing” for the Ball,” answered Lounge.

 

            “What do the men do?” Asked Hatalie.

           

            “We prepare too.  Mostly, we relax, eat, get massages, watch the kids, maybe,” answered Lounge. 

 

            “Last year, we hung out by the pool, played ping pong, pool, swam, had food brought to us, and had massages,” said Polaris.  “The girls went with Eileen last year to get all pretty like mom.”

 

“True.”

 

“The year before, we went on the duck hunt that happens between the morning ceremony and the Ball.”

 

“True.”

 

“The year before we went on the deep sea fishing boat, that is also the other event that is between the morning and the Ball.”

 

“True, but is that not the way we prepare.  We only have one really nice suit, and it only takes a moment to shave and comb my hair.”

 

Us ladies do more than just get pretty, we have our own special not programmed events we attend every year.”

 

“Oh, really?” Asked Gronchel.

 

“Something other than the dash for a new dress or jewelry because you waited to the last minute, or maybe just got asked to go to the Ball?” Asked Polaris.

 

“Yes.  And that is all I will say,” Answered Oronia while Mesme laughed.

 

“Eileen and the girls will be joining us today at the horse stables and continuing through the day today.  The ladies and the men are separated for the day, between the morning ceremony and the Ball, tomorrow.”

 

            The day had gone as planned.  Hatalie felt the day had been surreal, as if he had been walking through clouds of laughter and joy.  Although, part of him was always absent.  Perhaps it was the constant presence of Cassie and Talia that pulled his thoughts home to his wife and children and Catalie, or maybe, he just realized, they were leaving to go across the sea in one more day, and he missed them.The candlelight floating on the waves of the ocean, out to sea, and the stars shining through the black of the sky swirled about him with his memories as people danced in the sand along the shoreline, twirling and looking up and out at the lights laughing.  He crawled into bed, exhausted from the day, and his heart reached out to the Spirits, then he was calm and fell asleep as if he received an answer.

 

            The next morning, they all met in the Great Hall.  The large table was full of people and Hatalie was led to his place between Polaris and Oronia.  The King had not yet arrived, and people were talking and laughing, eating and drinking.  “…that would be nice, but we basically have only figured out up and down, and a little movement with a wind, but that does not give you a purposeful direction.  That would be one of the many things I would like to work on some day,” Polaris was saying to Oronia as Hatalie sat down. 

 

            “Well, I hope you do get back to it some day.  A hot air balloon ride from Nocturn would be so much more pleasant than the treacherous path through the Highlands and back down again.”

 

            Ora attended Hatalie by pouring some prettle tea and asked, “Would you like us to take your plate and get your favorite items from the table, or would you prefer to help yourself today?”  Tora dropped a plate in front of Hatalie with food on it, and said, “I’ve got it, Ora,” then skipped off with a smile.  Tora laughed then skipped after her.

 

            The Sire, King Lounge Goodinhale appeared.  The crowd became quiet. He lifted his glass and said,”To Beauty, Truth, and Love, but, mostly, to the light, that illuminates all these things.”

 

The crowd responded, “May the Peace always keep.  My Beauty, Truth, and Love always shine so we may know the way.”

 

Everyone sipped from their cups. 

 

            Hatalie was quiet this morning.  Gronchel was trying to get Oronia’s attention.  Mesme was sitting with a short odd looking man.  Hatalie guessed the man was a Calpisian.  People were finishing their breakfast and started to slowly wander out to the ocean’s edge.  Hatalie was done with his meal, but he sat observing the crowd and the interactions of people.  He could tell that the woman sitting across the table from him was married to the man next to her, but that she had been lying to him about something and was having a hard time keeping the secret.  He wondered why people ever thought they could lie without ever being discovered.  When she had said the words of the toast, she could not get the word “Truth” to come out of her mouth.  Deception was never a good plan.  In a blink of an eye, Hatalie knew what the lady was lying about.  How to reveal the truth or knowledge of the truth, without defense mechanisms flying up, denial shields being held out, or retaliation being wrought?  Then he knew what to say, “Lady, my name is Hatalie.  You haven’t eaten much.  Are you feeling well.  The husband looked at her, puzzled.  “Oh, just a case of the nerves, I’m sure.  I’ve never been invited to the King’s table before, and there are so many dignitaries and famous people in the room.  I’m sure I’m just overwhelmed by the presence of greatness.”   She looked down at her husband and smiled with such love, yet fear.  Holding on to a lie, no matter how small, can tear love, beauty, and peace apart.  How could he serve this lady best?  How could he help her?  “You are so in love with your husband.  I miss my wife.  It is good to see a couple like you in my loneliness.  Is this your first marriage? You know, friends are good to have as well.”  She looked at Hatalie strangely then said, “I was married once before, but he died.  I’ve had many friends, and it took me a long time to find my best friend, I don’t want to lose him ever.” 

 

“Sometimes, a lie can tear things apart.  Sometimes, we must trust that being honest will only prove that love is stronger.”

 

“And if it doesn’t?”

 

“Then maybe, it was never meant to be, but this is the Light Festival.  I don’t believe any lie or fear can hide here.  Beauty, Truth, and Love illuminated.”

 

“Yes.  I lie can tear things up.”

 

“Darling, you and your new friend need to stop philosophying, or the day will be gone.  Isn’t there much to do to prepare for tonight?”

 

“Yes. Tonight will be good.”

 

            Oronia grabbed Hatalie and said, ”We are going to miss the morning ceremony, and I won’t see you until tonight, so let’s go!”

 

            “Wait!  Don’t I need a date for tonight?”

 

“You can go with Polaris.”

 

“I’m sure he would dress pretty for me, but why can’t you be my date?”

 

“I already have a date, silly.”

 

            The shore was full of people waiting for the morning ceremony.  There was much talk about “illumination” and physical light versus ethereal light.  There were testimonials on Beauty, Truth, and Love.  Hatalie realized there were platforms down the beach where people stood up and asked others to go to the Ball with them or where testimonials and speeches of all sorts were given.  None were very long, and most were formatted the same.  He guessed there was a time limit to get your licks in, then everyone sang the same song, and doves were released from the castle towers.  They flew out over the ocean and out to sea.  They were beautiful.  He realized many people had brought umbrellas for the flyover or were wearing hats.  Then the crowd sang another song.  Hatalie didn’t know the songs, but he listened.  He decided that Oronia was many wonderful things, but a good singer was not one of them.  She didn’t seem to care or notice how out of tune she was, and sang at the top of her lungs anyway.  She was spirited.  He had to give her that. 

            The song ended, and butterflies filled the air.  They tickled Hatalie’s face, then disappeared.  He looked around and noticed that some of the color from the wings of the butterflies had rubbed off on some people’s faces in the crowd.  He knew that this meant those butterflies would not live much longer, but he did not feel sad.  He normally would have, but he didn’t.  It was meant to be.  Water goes the way it goes, and so does life.  There are things you cannot change, and things you should not force.

            The crowd slowly moved back toward the land.  Women going in one direction, men in the other.  “For someone who has great sight and great hearing…”  

 

“….I don’t have a great voice.  Yes.  I know.  My sister has that talent.  I was not blessed with that talent.”

 

“But you still sing loud and proudly for the world to hear. “

 

“What do I have to lose?  I enjoy singing, even if not well.  Those who love me allow me this because they love me.  Those who don’t, don’t really matter.  Do they?”

 

“Has anyone been rude to you about it?”

 

“If they are, they better watch out.  No one is perfect, and I can find most other people’s imperfections easily.  I don’t think they would want that battle.  What do you think?”

 

“I’m the only Golden man in town.  I thank you for not pointing out all my imperfections.”

 

“You said what you said from jest and love.  I was not offended.  You are my only Golden friend.  I’d like to keep you a friend.  See you later, Hatalie.  I’ll save a dance for you.  I’m sure you won’t want to dance with Polaris.  I think you might be a fair dancer too.”  She smiled and waved her hand as she walked away with the other women.

 

Gronchel grabbed Hatalie’s sleeve and pulled him in the direction of the castle gardens away from where most men were going.  He found a spot then said breathlessly, “What did she say?”

 

“What?  Who?”

 

“Oronia.”

 

“See me later?  Save a dance? What?  What do you want to know?”

 

“She didn’t tell you I was her date for the Ball?”

 

“No, but I guessed.  You two have been acting strangely since a few breakfasts on the balcony ago.”

 

“Is it that obvious?”

 

“Only to a blind man.  No it is not.  But, what are you thinking.  The sea voyage, long periods of time.  Lots of men.  Jealousy.  You know what I’m saying?”

 

“Yes. Yes.  It’s stupid, stupid, stupid.  Gronchel is a stupid lug of a guy.  What she sees in me, I don’t know.  I was so surprised she said “yes.”  She isn’t normally my type.  I just… I don’t know…there’s something about her eyes or her smile…I just can’t stop thinking about her, but then it is hard to look at her without losing all thought or consciousness.  I’m just…I don’t know.  This is messed up isn’t it.  I messed up, I mean…what was I thinking?”