"I'm going to see Ocean." Ildrianna told the family as they gathered around the hearth. It was a common thing to find them there in the evening.
"Alright dear, just be careful." Came Nessa's brisk retort, her mind was on other things like the scrap of satin and velvet in her hands. She had been laboriously cleaning and restoring Ildrianna's tattered dress, the one she had arrived in when she came into this world.
The young queen's heart warmed at the gallant gesture but honestly the dress was just another painful reminder of that terrible night, something that she could hardly stand to look at. So as an act of good will and as a small thank you Dria said Nessa could do what she will with the dress.
"Use it as to make another dress, a new and better one. Or use the scraps to beautify one of your own." Dria had suggested.
Nessa was beside herself with joy, "Oh I donna need anythin' so fancy." She fluttered about like a mother hen, already severing a piece of thread and pulling apart the dress. "Mayhap my girls would like it very much if I spruced up one of their frocks." She had carefully pulled out the silk thread, marveling at the quality and sheen. The dress was made of deep blues and creamy white satin and silk and velvet. All materials were made of the finest quality and hand stitched with tender care.
"Oh, mam! Do you mean it?" Squealed Rosslyn and Sheena, jumping up and down in pure wonderment to have one of their finest dresses to be altered with material from a noblewoman's old dress. Something like that didn't happen everyday.
"Oh aye, loves, but only if ye remain in my good graces and get your bonny selves to doin' ye chores." Nessa winked secretively at Dria, pleased that her daughters were rushing about and causing such a ruckus. "While ye at it, why not clean your rooms. Make sure you get under the bed, Sheena." Nessa gave her daughter one of those unmistakable motherly looks that said you-better-do-it-or-else, and you never wanted to find out what that 'or else' was. "An' pick out your nicest dress!" She shouted to their backs, chuckling to herself.
She cast a wondering glance at Dria, "Are ye sure, lady?"
Dria miled broadly, happy to bring any kind of happiness to the family who had saved her and took her in. "Oh yes, I wish I could give you more as thanks."
"There be none of that, ye be doin' quite fine, lass." Nessa nodded off, eyes fully intent on tearing apart the dress in the most delicate way possible.
"I'll be in the barn." And with that she smiled at Artair who raised his pipe towards her in acknowledgement and returned to his musings. Logen caught her attention but she refused to speak with him at the moment and left out the door.
Logen hung his head, rubbing his hands over his face as he moaned in defeat.
"What did you say to the lass?" Asked his father, reverting back to Gaelic as he always did when Dria was out of the room, or out of earshot. The English tongue never agreed with his mouth.
"Obviously somethin' that the lass dinna agree with." Nessa mused aloud, separating the priceless antique lace from the silk slip of the dress. The lace alone could be sold for a fortune. The delicate frothy fabric was tedious and time consuming to create. Such labor came at a high price. She was inwardly debating whether to accent her daughters' dresses in it or just go to the market and sell the damned thing. The extra money wouldn't hurt seeing as how there was an extra mouth to feed.
"I merely spoke the truth, ma. Nothin' more and nothin' less." Logen sighed as he fell back onto the stone floor, his limbs spread like that of a starfish.
"As I said, it dinna agree with her." His mother set down her new sewing project and glared down at her son but sighed, returning her attention to the article in her lap. Her son wasn't even looking to appreciate the gaze anyways.
"'Tis been nearly a fortnight. Whatever it is you said to her must 'ave been rough, lad, else she wouldna 'ave been givin' you the cold shoulder." Artair puffed some more on his pipe. "I thought you two were gettin' along quite well."
"More than quite well." Nessa added in a steamy voice.
Logen cringed, like he wanted to have his parents knee deep in his romantic life. Not that he believed he had one with Dria. Anytime he made advancements she would withdraw from him. And the kiss she had given him really wasn't what he had had in mind. He remembered the feather soft caress of her rosy lips upon his brow. The kiss had reminded him of how noble ladies kissed their champions. A peck on the brow or the cheek and that was it. He didn't feel any intimacy within the act, only graciousness.
"Ma, it's not like that. She doesna see me like… that." Logen sighed, staring up at the ceiling but seeing only nothingness. He shut his green eyes painfully; it was as if he were a wee lady complaining to his mam when something didn't go his way.
"No woman is too good for my son." Nessa said sharply, staring intently at her son, willing him to look at her. He had the grace to lift his head. "No one, ye hear?"
"Aye, mother." He let his head fall back with an audible thud. "Och." It hurt.
Artair listened to the two-way for a moment before looking thoughtful. "Me thinks that mayhap to lady looks tenderly upon you." He drawled slowly. "Did she say if she was goin' with us to see Inverness?"
"How do you ken, da?" Logen sat up, ignoring his father's question.
"I've seen the way she looks at you, she's bewitched by you." He smiled before his face suddenly looked sad. "But the lady looks wistful too, full of sorrow. Somethin' fashed her in the past."
Logen digested the information. He had been slowly telling his family about Dria's past, what little he really knew, though he edited it a bit. They understood that she had nowhere to go.
"She did say she had a betrothed." Logen muttered darkly.
"Then she's missing him, perhaps." Artair suggested.
"She thinks him a bastard." Logen all but laughed. "That she can't stand him."
"So she says." Nessa said aloud, slowly separating the thread from fabric.
Logen's face suddenly turned a shade whiter. It could be true, he thought to himself. She was nobility after all; perhaps her betrothed was also a blue blood. How could he compete with that? He was dirt poor, a mere commoner in her eyes.
"She hasna told me if she'll be comin' to Inverness." He bit out bitterly.
Dria settled next to Ocean's flank, laying her head on his barrel and listening to his lungs breath in and then out. Her eyes fluttered closed, the dark fan of her lashes resting on her cheek. She was utterly and completely at ease.
Ocean let out a little rumble in his chest in contentment as well.
Since their last confrontation at the loch Ildrianna had had little to do with Logen. Any time she did speak with him it was always in clipped frigid tones and to the point. She just wasn't ready to speak with him openly yet. The one being that she desperately needed to speak to was Ocean and he was as silent as ever. Over the past two weeks she had been babbling to him nonstop, going over various thoughts that had been bouncing around her head. Ocean followed her everywhere she went like a shadow, or like a dog, as Artair had said in amusement.
Ocean hung on her every word, comprehending most of what she said to him and somewhat answering her by shaking or nodding his head.
Through this process she had been more at ease.
She fished inside her pocket and unraveled an old and ratty scarf, revealing the shards of Ocean's acorna. For the most part she had every piece except one, it seemed. She had been scouring the land, opening her senses to their fullest extent. They would ride alone for hours and hours, roaming from place to place where she would stop him and sit, eyes closed and magical senses spreading out and searching. She had become quite astute with the method.
With it she had discovered small pockets of wild magic all around her, so miniscule that she never would have noticed them if she had not been searching for anything magical. Each time she had found a small bubble of essence she had carefully gathered it, funneling it into the dead shard. She wasn't sure at all if the idea was working but when she proposed the thought to Ocean he had nodded his head vigorously.
Try anything; he seemed to be telling her.
She felt a faint pulsing from the shard every now and then but nothing to tell her that it definitely was working. Finding those pockets of magic was rare.
Dria lightly caressed each shard, staring down at them, willing them to tell her what to do.
"You know Ocean, I'm beginning to think that the last shard isn't around here." She considered aloud.
Ocean swiveled his head sharply upon his rider.
She stared into his azure eyes. "Remember when you took me back to the sight where Logen found me?"
Ocean nodded his head.
"In the snow, there had been ruts. They looked like they had been made by wagons. Maybe someone picked up the shard and carried it with them." She looked back to the shards. If the last one was mobile then it would be nearly impossible to find it, but she didn't tell Ocean that.
She sighed heavily; the night was finally catching up with her. "We need to think about leaving here to go find it." But she was afraid. Nessa, Logen, and even Artair were always warning her of traveling alone. She rubbed Ocean's belly, thinking. Before she knew it sleep had stolen her from the waking world.
Almost instantly she had begun to dream of Balinor. She stood alone and saw verdant fields filled with people working the land, she saw aged forests filled with animals, she saw her home. Everything was peaceful.
Then suddenly day turned into night and a large moon rose above her in the sky. For a moment she watched it change, phasing through its nocturnal cycle again and again until it was suddenly full again.. From it soft rays of moonlight gently lanced the world. From it she watched as tear drop of silver slipped from the silver disk and fell to the world below. In its shining luster pranced a lavender unicorn with a silver mane and tail.
Dria's hope was dashed as she beheld the young celestial.
"Where is Aurora?" She found herself asking.
The lavender unicorn danced upon the tips of her hooves, performing an intricate pattern around Dria. The queen had to keep twisting her body to follow the flutterings of the yearling.
"She is recovering from battle. I am her apprentice, Atalanta." The unicorn paused to bow deeply before her, "Your majesty."
Dria curtsied back. "Has something happened?"
"Nothing more than usual. The Dreamspeaker wishes I not say anything." Atalanta half reared and changed direction.
"Has she spoken with my sister? How is she? Where is she? Tell me, please! What has happened since I've left? Why haven't I've been contacted sooner?"
"Your sister is alive, though in dire circumstances. The Prince of Darkness has her in thrall, though we do not believe he will kill her just yet." Atalanta interrupted.
Ildrianna shuddered at the statement and waited for more questions to be answered from the purple unicorn. "Then its true? My family is dead?" She blurted out, trying to blot out the silence.
Atalanta finally stopped in her wayward dance, sympathy seeping from her purple eyes. She tossed her silver mane about, "But your sister is still alive. The prince has put her for auction, a rouse," Atalanta rushed on to reassure the queen, "To either bring out the Resistance, the Celestials, or you yourself. But do not worry, Aurora has been keeping a close eye on her." The lavender nodded her head. "You need not worry about her just yet."
"My sister is at Rhalluan's mercy! And you tell me not to worry?!" Ildrianna began her own pacing. "What has been happening in Balinor?"
"That is not why I am here, your majesty." Atalanta's instructions were clear; she would not deviate. Keeping up the concentration needed to sustain this conversation going was hard enough.
"Oh no? Then why are you here?" Dria said caustically, furious. She had wanted to speak with Aurora, not her incompetent student. She wanted answers and she wasn't getting them!
Atalanta scowled, "I can hear your thoughts, whether you say them aloud or not." The lavender huffed. "I'm here to help with this." Atalanta waved about her head.
Dria stared blankly, "With what?"
"This!" Atalanta swept her horn along the ground, creating sparks of intense light as the horn made contact.
Dria watched in awe. So they had been watching! They had come up with an idea. "Please, I don't know what to do."
"We know, we don't really either." The apprentice admitted. "But the art of manipulating acorna has been unleashed unto Balinor. You must find the Mourner if you want to piece together lord Ocean's horn."
"Who is the Mourner?" Dria had never heard of such a person before.
"An immortal who crossed into Balinor by accident. He's gone by many names, his current one is still unknown. He is the only one who would still know how to craft together a broken acorna."
"That's not much help, Atalanta." She was supposed to find an immortal who has had several different aliases through out his very long life. Once she did find him she had to get him to help her, and she was assuming that he would.
"I know, but we are looking into it." The lavender's form started to waver.
"Wait, how am I supposed to find the Mourner in Balinor? I don't even know how to return."
"We will return you to your home, my queen, and you will retake your throne." Atalanta's voice was suddenly getting more and more distant. "The Dreamspeaker tells me to tell you to take the journey."The moon began to shift and phase, growing smaller and smaller until it disappeared from the sky- becoming a new moon.
Ildrianna suddenly bolted upright, disturbing Ocean out of his doze. She ran a hand through her hair, puffing out a frustrated sigh. She finally got a message from Balinor and it was been a shoddy one at that. The last bit took little time to interpret.
"Ocean, we're going to Inverness."
"You mean to tell me," Rhalluan pinched the bridge of his nose, his cold eyes shut tight, "That my wards failed because there was not one but two Dreamspeakers?" He looked at the four guards, specifically Daeroc. He knew that the guard has a soft spot for the little princess.
Around the prince a darkness slithered; inky tendrils of blackness swam about his form. The souls could not take on form in the weak torchlight and so writhed in affliction. Rhalluan did nothing to relieve their sufferings.
The darkness clutched at him with phantom arms, passing through him harmlessly. One hissed in obvious frustration at having no physical manifestation.
Yes. At one we could have snuffed her, but the second brought the moon and with it pain. A soul reported, hovering on the brink of light.
The dark prince's mouth curled into a snarl. He could bring more pain than any little yearling every could. "You were there to perform a task, as simple as it was."
You said there would be only one. Suddenly the darkness stilled and gave way to another more intense aura, the likes of which extinguished the frail torches.
Rhalluan turned. "You're getting better at that, Ciaran."
The soul radiated itself out in a vast spread, enshrouding the entire camp site. The men began feeling the ill effects of the venomous soul. Daeroc's skin began to crawl, a violent shiver lanced painfully down his side. He began to sweat, his armor suddenly felt light it weighed two tons, crushing and suffocating him. He couldn't get enough space around him- it was suddenly crowded. The guard swore to the gods above that the very life was leaving him in small degrees. He glanced towards Estellana out of habit and saw her cringe where she sat in a heap on the muddy ground whimpering quietly.
"That's quite enough, Ciaran."
Immediately the air lifted and the night became a thousand times less threatening now that the giant soul sucking black abyss known charmingly as Ciaran retreated upon herself. Daeroc thought back to his younger days of schooling. Ciaran, pronounced with a hard 'K' sound, meant darkness and shadow. How befitting.
You said there would be only one, the darkness roared, launching herself at Rhalluan with every intent to attack yet reigning in her fury, stopping herself mere inches from the prince's porcelain face. From that steely darkness emerged a phantom face of a unicorn, writhing in shadows and sightless eyes turned hatefully upon her master.
"Clearly I did not know that the Dreamspeaker had taken on an apprentice." Rhalluan spoke evenly, obviously, curbing the urge to wilt under her blistering stare.
One of my own was destroyed. Ciaran's voice was silky smooth, the sweetest of poisons, a drug to lull the unsuspecting into familiarity and comfort. But taste too much and the toxin pulls the switch, to Rhalluan her sweet voice made his nerves grate and his stomach queasy yet he would never reveal that to those around him.
At hearing that Rhalluan's black brow raised. "Explain."
We always yield to purified light, a soul whispered, crouching on the fringes of camp.
And to purified light we must return, another spoke, sneering as it inched closer and closer towards Estellana. The princess quelled in fright. She could not clearly see the dark soul but she could hear it and feel it.
"And this light would be?" Rhalluan probed.
As if summoned the clouds in the night sky departed giving way to the gentle radiance of the luminous moon. The heavenly body was now waning, the full moon having come and gone. With its silver rays softly combing the land below the dark souls fled for cover in the shadows, all except Ciaran. Rhalluan had to give her credit, only through sheer hatred did the soul even withstand the infinitesimal amount of time within the moon's rays before suddenly erupting into nothingness and scatterings into safety.
"It only proves that you will fail, then fall." Estellana decreed, bolstered by the silvery light.
Without warning Rhalluan turned upon the girl and cuffed her across the cheek.
Pain blossomed across the blond's face as she laid sprawled upon the ground. The sight had gone from her right eye and her left was seeing stars. She could feel something wet slide down her skin as she reached a hand up to cover the bruising wound, letting the tears well up.
"Step aside, Daeroc." Rhalluan growled out, not believing that the guard had thrown him off the girl.
"No."
The prince paused and all his soldiers breathing had stopped as they awaited what would happen next.
"No?" He asked coldly, his inflection furious yet curious.
Daeroc's hands shook but he remained resolute. "I cannot abide anyone hitting a woman, my lord."
Rhalluan glanced sharply at Daeroc, taking in the guard's protective stance as he crowded over the young princess, how his hand was placed tenderly on the crown of her head. He saw how Estellana pressed herself closer to his form, cheeks wet with tears as she bit her lip to keep from sobbing out loud. She trembled in fright, glassy eyes staring blindly above her, unknowingly locking eyes with Rhalluan. Her sadistic crown and torque gleaming wickedly in the moonlight.
He inwardly cringed as he saw her right eye was red from a burst blood vessel. In his mind's eye he was reliving the memory, only this time it was he in Daeroc's place and his father in his. He remembered the fear roiling off his mother's exposed form. He remembered when he was younger he vowed to never let it happen again, or ever let himself be like his father.
Disgust and loathing filled his heart and mind as he saw himself becoming more and more like his father, guilt gnawed at his insides until they were raw. He looked about himself helplessly until Harbinger came into view. Without any words spoken the steed knelt by his feet and offered him an escape.
He mounted quickly and tossed over his shoulder, "Get her cleaned up." And rode off, disappearing into the night.
"You are nothing like your father." Harbinger told his rider between jagged puffs of breath. He was at a full out gallop, allowing his rider to run away from himself for a while. It was something that was happening with more frequency. The black stallion could feel the inner struggle within his bond-pair as if it were his own.
The Prince of Darkness tried to take some comfort in those words but he found himself with bad company. The dark souls were bound to him and there fore went where ever he went. He could feel the malevolence of Ciaran as she uttered gleefully, Oh but you are.
Those words tore to the depths of Rhalluan's tattered soul.
Was he any different? He was selling off his body and soul to accomplish goals that were never really his to begin with, forced into a cruel game with the highest stakes. He clutched at his heart, feeling the heavy breastplate beneath his hand, feeling the hot burning skin penetrating the layers, feeling the brand upon his heart.
Aurora curled her slender legs underneath her body and sighed heavily. She felt drained, body and soul. Since her run in with the vicious souls she had been commanded by Numinor himself to rest. She looked about herself in wonderment and took in the sight of the valley of Celestials grazing peacefully. She was on the King's Rock, the great cavern of the reigning Celestial leaders of ancestors past. Only the king and his chosen mate and queen could sleep and live within the Rock.
There was not any stretch of the imagination within Aurora's mind that made her consider herself as Numinor's new consort. For one she was too old and he far too young and inexperienced with life. They could barely stand each other on the best of days.
She recalled his scorching yellow eyes blazing through her, over her as she stood before him on trembling legs. She knew that he knew that it was not out of fear. His eyes focused in on her exhausted condition and he had snorted unhappily before telling her to 'come with me'.
Her pace had been slow and full of stumbles but he remained by her side, offering his support and balance when ever she needed it. He had commanded his staff away, telling Atalanta to leave and return to her frantic mother. His voice had been so full of authority that the filly had no room to question it.
"Where are we going?" Aurora asked tiredly.
Numinor shook his head before glancing at his companion. "I am taking you too my humble dwelling."
The words had stopped her in her tracks. No one visited the King's Rock. No one was invited inside, as he was suggesting. The only time she ever glimpsed it was when they preformed the rainbow Ceremony to greet the sun each morning, when the light hit it at just such an angle.
Humble dwelling had been an understatement. The cave was a dazzling cavern brimming with the most precious metals and gems that mankind would ever covet. Yet here in the Celestial Valley they were merely pleasant to look upon. The ground was a speckled granite that was worn smooth. Behind the cavern was a winding passage way that had a private meadow of which Numinor could graze undisturbed. There was even a babbling brook and a spring. The entire garden was encircled by towering rock that was unclimbable by unicorns, and really that was the only creatures it was meant to keep out.
It was lavish and grand and majestic and everything a wanting unicorn could ever think of. Aurora was deep in her own private musings and didn't hear the Golden One's approach.
"Have you regained some strength?" He asked quietly, his voice was knocked around the walls of the cave.
The Dreamspeaker's head jerked, started. She thought about it for a moment. She did feel better.
"I do not condone your actions. What you did was foolish and dangerous. But," Numinor trailed off and tilted his head to the side as he gazed down upon the maroon mare. "What you did was very brave."
Aurora squirmed under the compliment. Such words coming from him seemed extremely strange to hear.
"I have been thinking about the problem with the Gap." Numinor went on, pacing a bit. "I have sought out the Old Mare of the Mountain- I believe she can shed some light upon the situation."
Aurora followed his pacing with her eyes, which considerably widened at the mentioning of the Old One.
"Will you be able to find her?"
"She is under my rule." Numinor said plainly. "I have summoned her."
Aurora fought the urge to roll her eyes. He should know that the Old Mare was and always will be more obstinate and whimsy than Aurora could ever be. She wouldn't hold her breath and wait for the Mare's arrival. She merely kept quiet on her thoughts, let him figure out that the Old Mare went where the wind blew her.
"Numinor," Aurora began, taking in a large gush of air.
The golden stallion stopped his pacing, showing that he was listening.
"What exactly are the Shadow unicorns?" She spoke so softly that there was no resounding echo, in fact the cave suddenly seemed stifling and small.
Numinor gazed out upon the meadow at his herd mates, their coats a riot of technicolors involving every color within the visible spectrum. It was truly a sight to behold and how he cherished the vision. He closed his amber eyes and turned away. From Aurora's position Numinor's body suddenly eclipsed the sun's rays that lanced their way into the King's Rock. His form was illuminated from behind and his eyes and jewel blazed in the scorching darkness. The Golden One suddenly became dark and brooding, the shadows throwing a sinister veil over the scene before her and she sucked in a startled breath.
"The first Shadow unicorns were born right here in the Celestial Valley." Came an old and withered voice whispering through the cave.
Aurora started and got to her feet, looking about her.
"I was beginning to become impatient." Numinor sighed, eyes darting around his home. A bit of amethyst began to heave and shiver as it morphed into the Old Mare of the Mountain. Her frame was thin and wizened, her mane and tail rather sparse and fragile and swept about her in a wild frenzy. Her milky eyes seemed unfocused yet hard. With one knobby limb she stepped out from the rock and into the Celestial plain.
"As mortals would say, I could become lavishly rich from your impatience." The Old Mare chuckled a bit. She gazed with watery eyes upon the pair of unicorns. "Talk of shadows and darkness. I thought you summoned me for a different purpose." She snorted and shook her mane.
"I have. You merely joined us in the beginnings of a conversation." Numinor responded.
"Our dark brethren are hardly subjects of quality conversation." The Mare said rudely.
"I was merely trying to understand what they truly are." Aurora jumped in. The Mare was a force to be reckoned with. Her aura was vast and insurmountable, reeking of so much Deep Magic that the Dreamspeaker could taste it in her mouth it was so potent. She felt bowed under the onslaught. She glanced at Numinor, he hardly flicked an ear in response.
The Mare turned her gaze upon the Lady of th Moon and looked a bit thoughtful. "From the moment that light was born so too was darkness. For every single Celestial unicorn there is also a Shadow. There are those who still live who are from the days before the birthing of light who have damned themselves to darkness- those who walk the very earth below even now. And just like there are those born into the light against their will there are those born unwillingly under darkness.
"They are condemned to the Dunes, their hell, for unspeakable betrayals to the Father and to their herd." The Mare began hobbling out of the cave to the back, stepping out onto the tender blades of grass of Numinor's private meadow.
"They were once our herd mates?" Aurora asked, incredulous as she followed the Mare.
"Oh yes, so very long ago."
"And you say the the First Betrayers are alive and loose upon Balinor?" Numinor was trying not to sound too alarmed about that bit of news. The thought was very chilling.
"Varying degrees of the term 'alive', but yes." The Mare answered, ignoring the Dreamspeaker.
"How many?" Numinor asked severely.
"The dark Archons have all but vanished, only a select few still remain. You will know one when you see it. As to their precise numbers I haven't the faintest clue." She bent her head to drink from the babbling brook.
The very word sent chills down Numinor's and Aurora's spine. The air around them took on a darker hue, the temperature dropped. Only the Old Mare seemed unaffected. Lifting up her head she shook her mane again, whipping about her translucent horn effectively shooing the shadows away.
"I, myself, in my aimless wanderings of the world below have come across an Archon of a different kind, dead if you will. Quite curious, since the Prince of Darkness has summoned the blasted creature himself. He will regret that."
The Dreamspeaker continued to listen, drinking in Numinor's presence as he conversed so openly with the Old Mare. "He didn't form an accord, did he?"
The Old Mare merely gave him a long stare but said nothing.
Numinor hung his head and sighed heavily.
"Enough talk of such trivial things," The Mare sniffed, "What did you really summon me for?"
Numinor began to pace again. "The Gap. It is an uncontrollable force. Queen Ildrianna and Ocean were sent to the Other Side yet establishing contact with them had been haphazardous." He gave a poignant look at Aurora now blushing under his gaze but suddenly sobered when the Old One turned her eternal gaze towards her.
"I've ordered a special glory of unicorns to descend upon Balinor to examine the Gap." At Aurora's snort he turned upon her. "Yes I have been sending small parties down to the world below. They can open the Gap however," He stopped his pacing and looked helplessly upon the Old Mare of the Mountain. "They cannot connect to the world in which Ildrianna resides."
The Old One nodded. "That is a problem."
"I do not understand it." Numinor added.
The Mare heaved a great sigh and suddenly looked world weary and listless. Slowly her gaze returned to the Dreamspeaker and she looked thoughtful. "All this fuss about the Gap. Why did you summon me when it could easily be answered by your little Dreamspeaker?"
Numinor turned swiftly towards Aurora who backed away from the sudden onslaught of attention.
"I've already told you, Numinor, that I don't know why the Gap is no longer working." She spoke defensively.
Numinor was about to say something otherwise before the Old Mare cut him off. "Tell me, do you know in what part of the cycle was the moon when Queen Ildrianna left this world?"
Aurora straightened and tossed her head as she thought for a moment. If she recalled correctly she had been watching the entire escape from the pool, and she had such clarity and control over the image that it could have only been under the light of- "The full moon." She finished the thought aloud.
"Then tell me, what was it like on the Other Side?" The Mare went on, bending her head down to munch on some grass.
Aurora's eyes widened. "It was a full moon..." She whispered.
Numinor looked between the two of them, nostrils wide as he tried to control his breathing. "So?" He thundered.
Aurora began to shiver as her mind raced. "Don't you see? The reason I've found it so difficult to see into the Other Side wasn't merely just a lack of magic, though that is a factor. When I looked for Ildrianna I had to strain and I couldn't always find her."
The Old Mare nodded with slight enthusiasm, a little put out that the Dreamspeaker couldn't figure this out fully on her own or that Numinor still seemed in the dark.
"So?" Numinor repeated sternly as he gritted his teeth.
The Old One smiled. Aurora turned to Numinor. "It seems as though that time flows differently between our world and the world Ildrianna resides. When we opened the Gap we opened it to a world that had a corresponding full moon in which the Deep Magic draws power- no matter how weak it may be.
"It could have been any place, any world in which we could have forced her to, any time in that world. I could only see her when our two moons correlated to each other, and it seems that time must align itself again to our world if we want to open the portal to the Other Side and retrieve the queen." Aurora finished, her mind racing with thoughts, she turned towards the Old Mare and gasped, alarmed that the Mare was morphing into rock once more.
"Old One, wait! There are still many more things I must ask you!" Aurora wanted to know fully what they were dealing with, know at what times their worlds would realign again.
"You don't need me." The Old Mare of the Mountain sighed as she faded away to nothingness.
"I never even dismissed her." Numinor pawed angrily at the ground. He turned to the Dreamspeaker. "You must contact Ildrianna and ask about their moon, tell her to find the Gap on her side, that she must hurry and return to us. The fate of Balinor hangs on her shoulders."
Hooray for another update. Thank you all for reviewing. This chapter took longer than I expected. I wanted to jump right into the Inverness scene but there was more preparation that needed to be done before I get to it. And then finally Dria can return to Balinor!
I know its taking forever but I plan on keeping up with this story. I've got so many ideas for it.
Hope you enjoyed this chapter and happy Friday! Please review!
BVR