AN: This part of the story delves deep into the culture of Mornth and the People...yadda yadda. (in other words...bor-ing!) Sorry if you learn more than you'll ever want to know about the Mornth (or if you don't learn enough!) and the People. Just a warning for those of you who get bored with that type of stuff....come back when you're in a more awake and tolerant mood, but don't skip this chapter 'cause it has some pretty informative stuff.
Child of Snow
Part Seven
Chapter Nineteen~
"Stupid mirror," Queen Minerva fumed, draining another goblet of wine. "W-wouldn't answer me, stupid thing; the s-simple girrrl."
She stood tipsidly and attempted to walk across the darkened chamber, only to sink to the floor in exhaustion. The queen of Fendel had spent the last few days poring over ancient book and scrolls for some sign, some HINT of where Evelwyn's Gift could be hidden. All she could find were histories of Evelwyn's life, and these were very short and vague, since she had simply disappeared one day. There was no description of Evelwyn's Gift, except that it was wrapped in golden leaves when Imyrs* Nmeh, the second Imyrs of Mornth, had presented it to her. No one had actually seen the object except the people in the room at the time it was opened.
"'Course, would be easierrr if sh-she'd just tell me," Queen Minerva muttered. Perita had refused to answer her question and vanished, as she was now beginning to do more and more often.
Queen Minerva turned the pages of a book to her right, then squinted to read the words through her blurring vision. She had never, in her memory, felt so angry with herself.
Mama would be ashamed, she thought. Queen Minerva had never realized before how dependent she had become on the mirror, on Perita. It seemed that every time she had trouble, she'd go running to her magic mirror, seeking the magical solution to a problem.
So she had grown accustomed to it, and she began to assume that the mirror would always be there to answer her questions. It never occured to her that the mirror was, well, alive.
Now, when she finally knew, her time was running out. Queen Minerva had been six when the tale of Evelwyn's Gift had first been told to her, and she had been eight when the tale of Lady Lleilanellyn and her Mirror was first spun for her by a royal bard. Immediately she had seen, when none others had, that the key to Evelwyn's Gift was through the Lady's Mirror.
It had not been for nothing that her dear mother, ever since her birth, had sacrificed so much for the sake of her beauty. Charms from local witches were bought with great gold. These guaranteed her long life and youth. Titles were given to traveling religious men, who blessed Minerva with health and beauty. Wizards were hired to give Minerva wisdom, grace, and elegance. Ever she had teared to Minerva and told her, "My daughter, you will be the fairest."
Evelwyn's Gift was an obsession that she had pursued eagerly in her youth, passionately. Then, when at last she had obtained the Mirror of Lady Lleilanellyn, she had...relaxed. After all, the power of the Mirror was common knowledge, and she rested assured that when the time came to call for the location of Evelwyn's Gift, the Mirror would be there with a ready answer.
So she waited, pursuing other childhood dreams, pushing aside the task of searching for Evelwyn's Gift for later. After all, the matter of Victor and his other wife, Elyce, was far more pressing. That was more urgent, something that needed to be handled with immediately.
After that, there was Silvea. Queen Minerva redirected her energy to assuring that her daughter was named heiress and arranged a bethrothal with a noble of high standing. Once that was fixed, Icelynai had to be thwarted. She had to assure that her daughter, Victor's true child, was always placed above Icelynai, in all matters.
Somewhere along the way, Evelwyn's Gift had been forgotten. Yet she had not failed yet. There was still time, though very little. Perhaps she was approaching this the wrong way.
Though at the moment Queen Minerva couldn't think of such matters. After another drink of the strong wine, she fell into drunken stupor.
MORNTH-HE, 148 YEARS EARLIER
"For she who is lovelier than the stars and more graceful than the trees of the He, I give these gifts, the spoils of war," he announced proudly, and clapped.
A string of people, wearing ragged clothing, dirty and travel-weary, dragged themselves into the hall. Most did not meet her eyes, by Evelwyn was chilled by those who did. Their eyes were haunted, dark, encircled by black rings. All were thin and near starving.
"Slaves of our dreaded enemy, those who call themselves people of Fendel," he continued. Evelwyn glanced sharply to her father, standing proudly in his regal clothing. Surely he would not accept this?
"Imyrs Nmeh, this is indeed impressive," Drui MeNatth said, his pleasure evident in his voice as the last of the people trudged into the hall. "My daughter thanks you for your gifts."
"But Majesty," Nmeh protested, "I have more. Something that was found in the treasury of the Fendel noble Earl Guillame from the North."
Some of the court gasped. Treasures from the North were hard to come by, and they were especially valuable in Mornth. Nmeh placed a box at Evelwyn's feet. It was thickly wrapped in golden leaves, leaves of the trees Notta-He*, the smallest woods in Mornth. It was the custom for people of Notta-He*, such as Nmeh, to give gifts wrapped this way.
"How lovely," Evelwyn said dully. "And my birthday only a few weeks away."
"Indeed. Would you like to wait until then to open it?"
"Yes," Evelwyn said but knew that she would never open it, ever.
"Earl Guillame tells me that it was won from the People by his ancestors. He claims that it once belonged to the Northern Queen herself, and for that information I allowed him to go free."
"Really?" Evelwyn asked, interested despite herself. Perhaps she would open it after all, just to see what it was. To think that maybe what she held in her hands had once belonged to the Northern Queen...
"So what do you think of this one?" her father asked her later, when they were alone in his study, sipping tea. Evelwyn sighed heavily.
"What do you think of him?" she asked, though she knew the answer.
"He is a valiant warrior, certainly not lacking courage. He leads his people into battle with strategic genius. Nmeh is handsome, as well. Daughter, he is the sort of husband most women want," he said gently.
Evelwyn was silent as she sipped more of the tea. This was a well-known routine. They repeated this after every new suitor asked for her hand. Evelwyn waited. Her father knew her well enough, and she him. Though to others he was a very proud man, stern and strict as was expected of the Drui of Mornth. To her, though, he was considerate and kind and even soft, unlike his callous exterior and face. He was the perfect father and the perfect Drui at the same time. Such was his love for her that Evelwyn did not feel lacking anything, though she had no mother.
"Yet he is not the sort that you want, do you?" he continued softly.
"Father," Evelwyn sighed, "we disagree about many things, slavery one of them. He will not win me with that."
"Is there another reason?"
"Only his...his foolishness!" Evelwyn cried. "This folly of attacking Fendel...Father, he could very well cause a war! One that may mean the end of Mornth!"
"Nonsense," MeNatth said with a frown. "Our forces are stronger than those of Fendel--"
"And yet they have much more people! They have far more allies!"
"And we have the People as our Allies," MeNatth said confidently. "Daughter, such things are not yet for you to worry about."
"It has been long since we have dealt closely with the People," Evelwyn reminded him quietly. "We lost their favor when you forced the Faeries out of their homes in the Notta Meadows, remember? The closest ally we have to one of the People is Lei, and she is only part Wood-Faerie, and that blood is diluted by her Elf and Human blood."
"Yet Lleilanellyn is friends with many of the People," MeNatth said with a frown.
"Only because they were close friends with Lei's mother! Father, I will not marry him because it would mean that I support his actions. War with Fendel--invading, raiding--and enslaving their people when they have done nothing to us..."
"Done nothing to us?" MeNatth was aghast. "Daughter, they have waged war on us since our two nations were first created!"
"So in a time of peace we must wage war simply because of the mistakes of our ancestors?" Evelwyn flared. "Father, I won't marry him. Dangle him in front of Ariadne, if you must offer him with someone of royal blood."
"What does your cousin have to do with any of this?"
"Marrying Ariadne Patience Ahgigi would make him the envy of all his rivals, and Ariadne would marry him in a heartbeat. Her beauty would surely make up for the fact that she is not a Druis**, at least in his eyes."
Her father was silent for a moment before he burst into delighted laughter. "Ah, my Evelwyn! You will be a fine Drui!"
"I should hope so," Evelwyn said with a wry smile. "I learned from the best."
Chapter Twenty~
"How do you suppose I'm to work it?" Cel asked as she sat atop the rug. "Maybe if I just command it? Fly, carpet!"
"Maybe, 'up, carpet'?" Leander suggested.
"Or 'giddyap?'" Kistur offered.
"I don't think just commanding it to move will work," Sen told her. "Supposing that flying carpets are, well, living--"
"Livin'?" Adon burst, interrupting. "Sen, ye've cracked now! Carpets aren't ALIVE!"
"I never said they were," Sen pointed out. "Just that if you THINK of them as that way...? Try persuading it to fly, or reasoning with it."
"Why don't I try them all?" Cel said diplomatically. "Up, Carpet!" She waited a moment, and nothing happened. "Giddyap!" Again, nothing happened. "Wonderful, beautiful carpet, would you please take me someplace? Skilled, talented carpet, please raise into the air?"
"Maybe you could try it in another language?" Sen said. "What others do you know?"
"Not enough to say, 'fly,'" Cel said. "How do you say it in Minen?"
"We don't," Adon answered with a snort. "Why have a word for somethin' ye never do?"
"Good point." Cel frowned. "Are you sure this is a flying carpet?"
A chorus of nods answered her question. Cel threw up her hands in exasperation and stepped off the carpet. "Well, if it is, I have no idea how to work it. I give up."
She stomped away and then turned to glare at the rug. To her surprise, it was hovering a few feet above the ground, the middle of it sagging considerably.
"The trick must be in gettin' off it," Gaelan murmured. "Well, lass, up!"
Needing no further encouragement, Cel fell back onto the rug, sitting with her legs outstretched before her. The rug dropped a foot. Suddenly, Cel felt very unsure about the entire venture.
"Well, don't just sit there, lass," Adon grumbled. "Order it to do somethin' interestin'!"
"Higher," Cel commanded. "And go forward." The carpet either didn't hear or chose to ignore her, as it remained unmoving, hovering. She growled and threw her body weight forward. At last the carpet inched forward. Cel changed her position so that she was lying on her belly. The carpet lurched forward and upward so quickly that her stomach dropped a few feet.
"Careful, lass!" Adon cried. Laughing, Cel leaned over the edge to wave. In response the carpet veered sharply to the left and dipped. Cel felt her lunch fighting upward.
"This is ridiculous," Cel muttered. "I can't see anything, and if I try, this stupid carpet goes crazy."
Gazing upward, Cel saw the fluffy white clouds, seemingly within reach. Straining an arm upward, she tried to grasp one but felt nothing. Withdrawing her hand, Cel felt that it was wet. Trying to touch the cloud again, Cel sat up. Instantly the carpet stopped moving, remaining shakily in the same place. Then, it dropped a few feet. Cursing (Mogyeun!), Cel returned to her original position.
The troublesome rug coasted forward at a fast pace. Cel relaxed for a few moments, content to stare at the clouds closeby and a scattering of birds pass. Then, another thought suddenly struck her.
How was she to find her way back??
MORNTH-HE, 148 YEARS EARLIER
"I wanted to open it with you here," Evelwyn told Lei and Amedon. They sat in Lei's tower, Nmeh's gift in the center of the table.
"Why?" Lei asked curiously. Amedon snorted.
"I say that Nmeh's lying to you. No WAY he could give you anything that once belonged to the Northern Queen! Her reign was...a thousand years ago, in the time of King Charming IV*** and Queen Briar-Rose! Everything that belonged to the Northern People was destroyed!" Amedon cried.
"I know, but suppose...?" Biting her lip, Evelwyn tugged at a golden leaf. "What was the Northern Queen's name again?"
"In their tongue? Lyc-something," Amedon said uncertainly. "Or maybe it was Shrièba? Why?"
"I think it was Bea-something," Lei said with a frown. "Not that anyone really remembers what the Northern Queen called herself. Which Northern Queen are we talking about? There were seven, I think, before King Charming IV defeated them."
"Good question." Evelwyn peeled the leaves back, unraveling them to reveal a shiny box. "A box??"
"A very pretty box," Amedon corrected as they gazed on the box. He rapped the box. "This is good wood. Definitely made from the Northern Red-Firs."
"So we know that it's from the North," Evelwyn concluded. She gazed at the glittering runes engraved and painted on the red wood of the box. "I wonder what these say? It's not any language I know, but then the only written language I can read is the Ancient Druimor**."
"This is in Faerie-Writ," Lei said, fingering the swirls. "At least the letters are, but the language is probably Northern. This on the top," Lei pointed to the large letters on the top, "are in a language I don't know."
"Look at these jewels," Amedon cried, fingering the tiny clusters of sapphires and diamonds that were embedded into the wood, forming images of snowflakes and wings and stars as well as the moon and sun.
"It's locked!" said Evelwyn as she noticed the golden lock. "No wonder Nmeh gave it to me--he doesn't know how to open it!!"
"I knew it was too good to be true," Amedon muttered.
"I think I can figure out what these letters say if you leave it here with me," Lei offered. "I have so many books...and I could ask Gemadir Hèrawyn for help."
"Please! Maybe the writings will tell how it's supposed to be opened!"
"Maybe if we knew more about the Northern Queen...that might help?" Amedon added thoughtfully. "Maybe there's some story about a Northern Queen who had a box?" He laughed. "Though I doubt it."
"If only I finished my mirror," Lei said mournfully. "Then we would have the answer in moments!"
"You STILL haven't finished? You've been working on it for over a year now!"
"I know," Lei said. "I've done everything I was supposed to, but it still won't work. I need a spirit."
"A spirit!" Evelwyn exclaimed. "That method of creating magic mirrors is so old-fashioned! No one's used that since...since Lovely Queen Ra*** outlawed it."
"But I've tried everything else!"
"Then why doesn't it work?"
"I don't know!!"
"Why don't we start deciphering this box?" Amedon suggested. He stood and crossed the room, pulling several books from Lei's bookshelf and setting them on the table.
"This one is about the history of the Northern People," he said, and set it before Evelwyn. "You can search that. This one is about the the cultures and languages of the Northern People." Amedon put it in Lei's hands. "You look through that. I will look through this book, a reference book for the Faerie-Writ."
"We should switch," Lei said, taking the thick book from him and handing him the smaller, velvet-covered one. "You don't know anything about the Faerie-Writ."
"What exactly am I supposed to be looking for?" Evelwyn demanded.
"Anything that mentions a pretty box and a Northern Queen," Amedon answered. "Patience, dear Evel, is the key."
"Why do we even bother?" Evelwyn muttered.
"I don't know about you, but I'm curious," Lei said. "Just think--what if this really did belong to the Northern Queen? Maybe we're holding the crown jewels, or some map of the country, maybe even her diary!"
"Or just a petty box of beautifying tools," Evelwyn grumbled. "Of course I'm curious, but the idea of spending hours of research doesn't appeal to me."
"It won't take that long. I've already found something. This symbol right here means 'beautiful' or 'fair,'" Lei explained, pointing to a lock of loops.
"You see!" Evelwyn crowed triumphantly. "It IS a petty box of beautifying tools! Why else would it say 'beautiful' on the side of it?"
"They could be describing anything," Amedon protested. "So be quiet."
Evelwyn made a face.
Chapter Twenty-One~
Sen followed the carpet worriedly, running swiftly through the woods with his face upturned, watching the movement of the flying object. After a few moments of watching the unstable craft, they had all agreed that Sen should follow Cel, just in case something went wrong.
That seemed more and more likely with every passing moment, Sen thought. The flying carpet was definitely not a reliable source of transportation. It was utterly unstable, jerking and dipping and turning randomly.
Sen felt his stomach clutch in anxiety when the carpet suddenly tipped and then began to dive. Darting forward, he quickly began to calculate where the carpet would land. At the speed and angle it was dropping, Cel could be entangled in a cluster of trees nearby.
The carpet, however, had other plans. It flattened into a perfectly vertical dive. Cel, eyes wide with terror, slipped off and began to fall alongside the carpet.
Horrified, Sen ran toward the area where he hoped that Cel would land. The seconds seemed like agonizing hours as Cel fell faster and faster. The treacherous carpet peeled away and flew off to the right. Cel continued to fall, Sen adjusting his position every moment. At last, Cel dropped into Sen's awaiting arms, her momentum knocking them both to the ground.
"The stupid carpet," Cel spat, glaring at where it had been seen last. "I think you're right, Sen. The thing IS alive, and it tried to kill me!"
"Princess, if I had known--"
"Don't worry Sen; it's not your fault," Cel reassured him. "I'm fine, and all in one piece, thanks to you."
"I suppose you should talk to Bazek about a different birthday gift?" Sen said mildly. Cel laughed, running fingers through her wind-tossed hair.
"Yes, I suppose so. Think he'll give me something?"
"He should. You nearly lost your life!"
"But it wasn't his fault." Cel sighed. "Maybe he'll give me less chores as a birthday gift? That'd be nice, I guess, though actually I don't really have that many chores."
"Might I suggest something, princess?" Sen stood and brushed the snow off his clothes. "You're always complaining about how we don't let you wander far enough--"
"That's perfect!" Cel cried, springing to her feet. "I'll ask him if he'll be less...less...what's the word? Well, if he'll let me go--"
"To Salpas," Sen finished. "You see, because you cooked and cleaned instead of Leander, we've had an extra hand in our mining. So this year, we have twice as much to show for our hard work."
"What's Salpas?"
"A small village nearby," Sen explained. "We trade with them every year; usually half of our finds go to the people of Salpas in exchange for things that we need."
"So THAT's where you get all that cloth! I knew none of you could spin! So what does this have to do with me?"
"Usually, Gaelan and I go to Salpas every year, but since this year we have more to bring with us...it shouldn't be hard to twist Bazek's arm into letting you go. If you want to," Sen added.
"Of course I want to go!"
"Then ask him. Now, we'd best try to find our way back. Everyone's worried sick about you," said Sen. "Especially Adon."
"He was right," Cel laughed. "I AM better off with my feet on the ground."
"I don't know how she did it," Zachiriah said gloomily.
"Never underestimate my mother," Silvea said. "I learned that too late. The best we can do now is make sure your father lives a long and healthy life."
"I still don't know how she managed to convince the council!" Zachiriah burst. "I know those nobles, Silvea! They're not easily swayed into doing anything!"
"She probably slipped potions into their drinks," Silvea muttered. "Why else would they vote in favor of her? It would definitely be in Telren's best interests if Fendel and Telren joined immediately, rather than waiting until after the deaths of both my mother and father."
"And still, those nobles are old-fashioned traditionalists! The treaty was signed before we were even wed! They would never vote against a binding document! It clearly stated that Fendel would become a provence of Telren precisely thirty days after the death of your father! Yet she managed to convince the council to make ammendments!"
"What we need is a royal mage," Silvea said slowly. "To prevent her from doing anything of this sort ever again."
"Where will we find a royal mage?" Zachiriah demanded. "I suppose we'll just pluck one out a local village?"
"Make a royal announcement," Silvea said sensibly. "Offer a high pay. Make sure to mention that we will have them demonstrate their skill."
"And how are we to prevent ourselves from being dazzled by hocus-pocus tricks?" Zachiriah muttered. Silvea laughed.
"Oh, I'm not easily dazzled by hocus-pocus tricks." Silvea sobered. "My sister performed them all the time, though I have no idea where she learned them."
"So we hire a royal mage. Then what?"
"Then our royal mage will tell us whenever someone's using spells or potions to...to...hmmm, I see your point." Silvea bit her lip. "Our royal mage will tell us whenever someone's using spells or potions to evil ends."
"'Evil ends'?"
"Just whenever someone's using a spell or potion, or any other form of magic," Silvea said crossly. "My mother isn't the only threat, you know. There are so many sorcerers in Telren, and none of them take too kindly to royalty after what your father did to them. Think of Aramys, at least!"
"Then so be it," Zachiriah said with a sigh.
It was so simple a plan that Queen Minerva was shocked that she hadn't thought of it earlier. It would be so easy to simply kill Icelynai. Then, she would be the fairest in the land. Then she wouldn't have to worry about finding Evelwyn's Gift, either, for if it was prophecised, would not Evelwyn's Gift find its way to her?
"Minerva, you sly fox," she crooned to herself as she thought of ways to murder Icelynai. Strangle her, or drown her, or poison her? Which would be more fulfilling, more rewarding?
"She's been a thorn in my side for long enough," Queen Minerva muttered under her breath. Indeed, Icelynai had been an obstacle, a source of constant annoyance and trouble since she first entered her life.
Or, Queen Minerva thought suddenly, better yet, she could take Icelynai's youth. Perhaps that would be best of all, to restore herself to her old loveliness and destroy Icelynai in one stroke. Brilliance.
She almost asked her magic mirror for advice but stopped herself in time. Yes, she would do this by herself and gloat later.
"Naturally the spell would be complicated," she mumbled. Yet her powers are grown steadily over the past few years. Surely she was strong enough now to do such a spell?
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*Imyrs Nmeh is the second Imyrs of Mornth. Imyrs is a title, or a rank. The Imyrses of Mornth control the military forces in times of peace. Notta-he, Nmeh's home, is one of the many forests of Mornth (He, the 'e' pronounced like a grunt--'uh', means forest). A few generations ago, Notta-he was heavily populated by the People, mostly troublesome sprites and specters, until the people of Mornth--the Duriu--drove them out.
**The Drui are the rulers of Mornth. The monarchies of Mornth ended with the death of King Charming the V, only to be started again after the death of Drui MeNatth. Druis are equivalent of princes and princesses. The Drui are actually not Duriu but descendants of Elves. (the Duriu are descendant from the People) Mornth nobility are usually neither like the Drui or the Duriu but purely Human (Lei is an exception). The Ancint Druimor is the alphabet used in all legal writings and anything concerning the Drui.
***Lovely Queen Ra is the nickname for the queen of about nine hundred years ago (her real name is Rapunzel). Of peasant origin, she changed many of the more barbaric laws, including the banning necromacy and execution by dissection. After wedding Prince Willem, she gave away her Tower to Lei's family because of their aid when she was lost in the wilderness. King Charming the IV and Queen Briar-Rose (also known as the Sleeping Beauty) ruled during the time when Mornth stretched far to the north, into part of which is now the Slivitt and Kikasc Provences. The Northern Queen was pressing her realm downward, and there was a battle in which King Charming IV defeated the Northern People. Most of the Northern People were killed, and their belongings burned, but a small company of about two hundred managed to escape and fled into the heart of what it now Telren.
****The Northern People is the Mornth term for the Snow Children, or snow sprites, or the Snow People. There were seven Northern Queens (known as the Kiasci-skkia) who conquered much of the world for the Northern People until their rule was stopped by King Charming the IV.
A note: Obviously, in this story, Dwarves and Elves are not included in the term "People", which usually means all magical, humanoid beings, but in this case applies to mostly faeries, sprites, and specters. Therefore, Goblins, Trolls, etc. are not considered part of the term "People" either.
AN: I'm SOO sorry about having to immerse you all in the culture of Mornth...but I just thought we needed a different culture, to give the story more flavor and make it more interesting (and now it's proving to be more trouble than it's worth!!) I promise that I won't make you learn all about the culture of Telren (though it IS tempting...)
AN: Just a question...because this story is dragging on MUCH longer than I originally expected!...do you want me to just do a poisoned apple (i.e., Disney) or the whole works (poisoned comb, corset laces, and THEN the apple)? Or do a poisoned comb and a poisoned apple, skipping the laces? Or come up with my own way of killing her (hehe)?Personally, doing the whole works would take WAYYYY too long (right now, this story is lookin' like it'll need near 12 parts to finish!!!!!)
Child of Snow
Part Seven
Chapter Nineteen~
"Stupid mirror," Queen Minerva fumed, draining another goblet of wine. "W-wouldn't answer me, stupid thing; the s-simple girrrl."
She stood tipsidly and attempted to walk across the darkened chamber, only to sink to the floor in exhaustion. The queen of Fendel had spent the last few days poring over ancient book and scrolls for some sign, some HINT of where Evelwyn's Gift could be hidden. All she could find were histories of Evelwyn's life, and these were very short and vague, since she had simply disappeared one day. There was no description of Evelwyn's Gift, except that it was wrapped in golden leaves when Imyrs* Nmeh, the second Imyrs of Mornth, had presented it to her. No one had actually seen the object except the people in the room at the time it was opened.
"'Course, would be easierrr if sh-she'd just tell me," Queen Minerva muttered. Perita had refused to answer her question and vanished, as she was now beginning to do more and more often.
Queen Minerva turned the pages of a book to her right, then squinted to read the words through her blurring vision. She had never, in her memory, felt so angry with herself.
Mama would be ashamed, she thought. Queen Minerva had never realized before how dependent she had become on the mirror, on Perita. It seemed that every time she had trouble, she'd go running to her magic mirror, seeking the magical solution to a problem.
So she had grown accustomed to it, and she began to assume that the mirror would always be there to answer her questions. It never occured to her that the mirror was, well, alive.
Now, when she finally knew, her time was running out. Queen Minerva had been six when the tale of Evelwyn's Gift had first been told to her, and she had been eight when the tale of Lady Lleilanellyn and her Mirror was first spun for her by a royal bard. Immediately she had seen, when none others had, that the key to Evelwyn's Gift was through the Lady's Mirror.
It had not been for nothing that her dear mother, ever since her birth, had sacrificed so much for the sake of her beauty. Charms from local witches were bought with great gold. These guaranteed her long life and youth. Titles were given to traveling religious men, who blessed Minerva with health and beauty. Wizards were hired to give Minerva wisdom, grace, and elegance. Ever she had teared to Minerva and told her, "My daughter, you will be the fairest."
Evelwyn's Gift was an obsession that she had pursued eagerly in her youth, passionately. Then, when at last she had obtained the Mirror of Lady Lleilanellyn, she had...relaxed. After all, the power of the Mirror was common knowledge, and she rested assured that when the time came to call for the location of Evelwyn's Gift, the Mirror would be there with a ready answer.
So she waited, pursuing other childhood dreams, pushing aside the task of searching for Evelwyn's Gift for later. After all, the matter of Victor and his other wife, Elyce, was far more pressing. That was more urgent, something that needed to be handled with immediately.
After that, there was Silvea. Queen Minerva redirected her energy to assuring that her daughter was named heiress and arranged a bethrothal with a noble of high standing. Once that was fixed, Icelynai had to be thwarted. She had to assure that her daughter, Victor's true child, was always placed above Icelynai, in all matters.
Somewhere along the way, Evelwyn's Gift had been forgotten. Yet she had not failed yet. There was still time, though very little. Perhaps she was approaching this the wrong way.
Though at the moment Queen Minerva couldn't think of such matters. After another drink of the strong wine, she fell into drunken stupor.
MORNTH-HE, 148 YEARS EARLIER
"For she who is lovelier than the stars and more graceful than the trees of the He, I give these gifts, the spoils of war," he announced proudly, and clapped.
A string of people, wearing ragged clothing, dirty and travel-weary, dragged themselves into the hall. Most did not meet her eyes, by Evelwyn was chilled by those who did. Their eyes were haunted, dark, encircled by black rings. All were thin and near starving.
"Slaves of our dreaded enemy, those who call themselves people of Fendel," he continued. Evelwyn glanced sharply to her father, standing proudly in his regal clothing. Surely he would not accept this?
"Imyrs Nmeh, this is indeed impressive," Drui MeNatth said, his pleasure evident in his voice as the last of the people trudged into the hall. "My daughter thanks you for your gifts."
"But Majesty," Nmeh protested, "I have more. Something that was found in the treasury of the Fendel noble Earl Guillame from the North."
Some of the court gasped. Treasures from the North were hard to come by, and they were especially valuable in Mornth. Nmeh placed a box at Evelwyn's feet. It was thickly wrapped in golden leaves, leaves of the trees Notta-He*, the smallest woods in Mornth. It was the custom for people of Notta-He*, such as Nmeh, to give gifts wrapped this way.
"How lovely," Evelwyn said dully. "And my birthday only a few weeks away."
"Indeed. Would you like to wait until then to open it?"
"Yes," Evelwyn said but knew that she would never open it, ever.
"Earl Guillame tells me that it was won from the People by his ancestors. He claims that it once belonged to the Northern Queen herself, and for that information I allowed him to go free."
"Really?" Evelwyn asked, interested despite herself. Perhaps she would open it after all, just to see what it was. To think that maybe what she held in her hands had once belonged to the Northern Queen...
"So what do you think of this one?" her father asked her later, when they were alone in his study, sipping tea. Evelwyn sighed heavily.
"What do you think of him?" she asked, though she knew the answer.
"He is a valiant warrior, certainly not lacking courage. He leads his people into battle with strategic genius. Nmeh is handsome, as well. Daughter, he is the sort of husband most women want," he said gently.
Evelwyn was silent as she sipped more of the tea. This was a well-known routine. They repeated this after every new suitor asked for her hand. Evelwyn waited. Her father knew her well enough, and she him. Though to others he was a very proud man, stern and strict as was expected of the Drui of Mornth. To her, though, he was considerate and kind and even soft, unlike his callous exterior and face. He was the perfect father and the perfect Drui at the same time. Such was his love for her that Evelwyn did not feel lacking anything, though she had no mother.
"Yet he is not the sort that you want, do you?" he continued softly.
"Father," Evelwyn sighed, "we disagree about many things, slavery one of them. He will not win me with that."
"Is there another reason?"
"Only his...his foolishness!" Evelwyn cried. "This folly of attacking Fendel...Father, he could very well cause a war! One that may mean the end of Mornth!"
"Nonsense," MeNatth said with a frown. "Our forces are stronger than those of Fendel--"
"And yet they have much more people! They have far more allies!"
"And we have the People as our Allies," MeNatth said confidently. "Daughter, such things are not yet for you to worry about."
"It has been long since we have dealt closely with the People," Evelwyn reminded him quietly. "We lost their favor when you forced the Faeries out of their homes in the Notta Meadows, remember? The closest ally we have to one of the People is Lei, and she is only part Wood-Faerie, and that blood is diluted by her Elf and Human blood."
"Yet Lleilanellyn is friends with many of the People," MeNatth said with a frown.
"Only because they were close friends with Lei's mother! Father, I will not marry him because it would mean that I support his actions. War with Fendel--invading, raiding--and enslaving their people when they have done nothing to us..."
"Done nothing to us?" MeNatth was aghast. "Daughter, they have waged war on us since our two nations were first created!"
"So in a time of peace we must wage war simply because of the mistakes of our ancestors?" Evelwyn flared. "Father, I won't marry him. Dangle him in front of Ariadne, if you must offer him with someone of royal blood."
"What does your cousin have to do with any of this?"
"Marrying Ariadne Patience Ahgigi would make him the envy of all his rivals, and Ariadne would marry him in a heartbeat. Her beauty would surely make up for the fact that she is not a Druis**, at least in his eyes."
Her father was silent for a moment before he burst into delighted laughter. "Ah, my Evelwyn! You will be a fine Drui!"
"I should hope so," Evelwyn said with a wry smile. "I learned from the best."
Chapter Twenty~
"How do you suppose I'm to work it?" Cel asked as she sat atop the rug. "Maybe if I just command it? Fly, carpet!"
"Maybe, 'up, carpet'?" Leander suggested.
"Or 'giddyap?'" Kistur offered.
"I don't think just commanding it to move will work," Sen told her. "Supposing that flying carpets are, well, living--"
"Livin'?" Adon burst, interrupting. "Sen, ye've cracked now! Carpets aren't ALIVE!"
"I never said they were," Sen pointed out. "Just that if you THINK of them as that way...? Try persuading it to fly, or reasoning with it."
"Why don't I try them all?" Cel said diplomatically. "Up, Carpet!" She waited a moment, and nothing happened. "Giddyap!" Again, nothing happened. "Wonderful, beautiful carpet, would you please take me someplace? Skilled, talented carpet, please raise into the air?"
"Maybe you could try it in another language?" Sen said. "What others do you know?"
"Not enough to say, 'fly,'" Cel said. "How do you say it in Minen?"
"We don't," Adon answered with a snort. "Why have a word for somethin' ye never do?"
"Good point." Cel frowned. "Are you sure this is a flying carpet?"
A chorus of nods answered her question. Cel threw up her hands in exasperation and stepped off the carpet. "Well, if it is, I have no idea how to work it. I give up."
She stomped away and then turned to glare at the rug. To her surprise, it was hovering a few feet above the ground, the middle of it sagging considerably.
"The trick must be in gettin' off it," Gaelan murmured. "Well, lass, up!"
Needing no further encouragement, Cel fell back onto the rug, sitting with her legs outstretched before her. The rug dropped a foot. Suddenly, Cel felt very unsure about the entire venture.
"Well, don't just sit there, lass," Adon grumbled. "Order it to do somethin' interestin'!"
"Higher," Cel commanded. "And go forward." The carpet either didn't hear or chose to ignore her, as it remained unmoving, hovering. She growled and threw her body weight forward. At last the carpet inched forward. Cel changed her position so that she was lying on her belly. The carpet lurched forward and upward so quickly that her stomach dropped a few feet.
"Careful, lass!" Adon cried. Laughing, Cel leaned over the edge to wave. In response the carpet veered sharply to the left and dipped. Cel felt her lunch fighting upward.
"This is ridiculous," Cel muttered. "I can't see anything, and if I try, this stupid carpet goes crazy."
Gazing upward, Cel saw the fluffy white clouds, seemingly within reach. Straining an arm upward, she tried to grasp one but felt nothing. Withdrawing her hand, Cel felt that it was wet. Trying to touch the cloud again, Cel sat up. Instantly the carpet stopped moving, remaining shakily in the same place. Then, it dropped a few feet. Cursing (Mogyeun!), Cel returned to her original position.
The troublesome rug coasted forward at a fast pace. Cel relaxed for a few moments, content to stare at the clouds closeby and a scattering of birds pass. Then, another thought suddenly struck her.
How was she to find her way back??
MORNTH-HE, 148 YEARS EARLIER
"I wanted to open it with you here," Evelwyn told Lei and Amedon. They sat in Lei's tower, Nmeh's gift in the center of the table.
"Why?" Lei asked curiously. Amedon snorted.
"I say that Nmeh's lying to you. No WAY he could give you anything that once belonged to the Northern Queen! Her reign was...a thousand years ago, in the time of King Charming IV*** and Queen Briar-Rose! Everything that belonged to the Northern People was destroyed!" Amedon cried.
"I know, but suppose...?" Biting her lip, Evelwyn tugged at a golden leaf. "What was the Northern Queen's name again?"
"In their tongue? Lyc-something," Amedon said uncertainly. "Or maybe it was Shrièba? Why?"
"I think it was Bea-something," Lei said with a frown. "Not that anyone really remembers what the Northern Queen called herself. Which Northern Queen are we talking about? There were seven, I think, before King Charming IV defeated them."
"Good question." Evelwyn peeled the leaves back, unraveling them to reveal a shiny box. "A box??"
"A very pretty box," Amedon corrected as they gazed on the box. He rapped the box. "This is good wood. Definitely made from the Northern Red-Firs."
"So we know that it's from the North," Evelwyn concluded. She gazed at the glittering runes engraved and painted on the red wood of the box. "I wonder what these say? It's not any language I know, but then the only written language I can read is the Ancient Druimor**."
"This is in Faerie-Writ," Lei said, fingering the swirls. "At least the letters are, but the language is probably Northern. This on the top," Lei pointed to the large letters on the top, "are in a language I don't know."
"Look at these jewels," Amedon cried, fingering the tiny clusters of sapphires and diamonds that were embedded into the wood, forming images of snowflakes and wings and stars as well as the moon and sun.
"It's locked!" said Evelwyn as she noticed the golden lock. "No wonder Nmeh gave it to me--he doesn't know how to open it!!"
"I knew it was too good to be true," Amedon muttered.
"I think I can figure out what these letters say if you leave it here with me," Lei offered. "I have so many books...and I could ask Gemadir Hèrawyn for help."
"Please! Maybe the writings will tell how it's supposed to be opened!"
"Maybe if we knew more about the Northern Queen...that might help?" Amedon added thoughtfully. "Maybe there's some story about a Northern Queen who had a box?" He laughed. "Though I doubt it."
"If only I finished my mirror," Lei said mournfully. "Then we would have the answer in moments!"
"You STILL haven't finished? You've been working on it for over a year now!"
"I know," Lei said. "I've done everything I was supposed to, but it still won't work. I need a spirit."
"A spirit!" Evelwyn exclaimed. "That method of creating magic mirrors is so old-fashioned! No one's used that since...since Lovely Queen Ra*** outlawed it."
"But I've tried everything else!"
"Then why doesn't it work?"
"I don't know!!"
"Why don't we start deciphering this box?" Amedon suggested. He stood and crossed the room, pulling several books from Lei's bookshelf and setting them on the table.
"This one is about the history of the Northern People," he said, and set it before Evelwyn. "You can search that. This one is about the the cultures and languages of the Northern People." Amedon put it in Lei's hands. "You look through that. I will look through this book, a reference book for the Faerie-Writ."
"We should switch," Lei said, taking the thick book from him and handing him the smaller, velvet-covered one. "You don't know anything about the Faerie-Writ."
"What exactly am I supposed to be looking for?" Evelwyn demanded.
"Anything that mentions a pretty box and a Northern Queen," Amedon answered. "Patience, dear Evel, is the key."
"Why do we even bother?" Evelwyn muttered.
"I don't know about you, but I'm curious," Lei said. "Just think--what if this really did belong to the Northern Queen? Maybe we're holding the crown jewels, or some map of the country, maybe even her diary!"
"Or just a petty box of beautifying tools," Evelwyn grumbled. "Of course I'm curious, but the idea of spending hours of research doesn't appeal to me."
"It won't take that long. I've already found something. This symbol right here means 'beautiful' or 'fair,'" Lei explained, pointing to a lock of loops.
"You see!" Evelwyn crowed triumphantly. "It IS a petty box of beautifying tools! Why else would it say 'beautiful' on the side of it?"
"They could be describing anything," Amedon protested. "So be quiet."
Evelwyn made a face.
Chapter Twenty-One~
Sen followed the carpet worriedly, running swiftly through the woods with his face upturned, watching the movement of the flying object. After a few moments of watching the unstable craft, they had all agreed that Sen should follow Cel, just in case something went wrong.
That seemed more and more likely with every passing moment, Sen thought. The flying carpet was definitely not a reliable source of transportation. It was utterly unstable, jerking and dipping and turning randomly.
Sen felt his stomach clutch in anxiety when the carpet suddenly tipped and then began to dive. Darting forward, he quickly began to calculate where the carpet would land. At the speed and angle it was dropping, Cel could be entangled in a cluster of trees nearby.
The carpet, however, had other plans. It flattened into a perfectly vertical dive. Cel, eyes wide with terror, slipped off and began to fall alongside the carpet.
Horrified, Sen ran toward the area where he hoped that Cel would land. The seconds seemed like agonizing hours as Cel fell faster and faster. The treacherous carpet peeled away and flew off to the right. Cel continued to fall, Sen adjusting his position every moment. At last, Cel dropped into Sen's awaiting arms, her momentum knocking them both to the ground.
"The stupid carpet," Cel spat, glaring at where it had been seen last. "I think you're right, Sen. The thing IS alive, and it tried to kill me!"
"Princess, if I had known--"
"Don't worry Sen; it's not your fault," Cel reassured him. "I'm fine, and all in one piece, thanks to you."
"I suppose you should talk to Bazek about a different birthday gift?" Sen said mildly. Cel laughed, running fingers through her wind-tossed hair.
"Yes, I suppose so. Think he'll give me something?"
"He should. You nearly lost your life!"
"But it wasn't his fault." Cel sighed. "Maybe he'll give me less chores as a birthday gift? That'd be nice, I guess, though actually I don't really have that many chores."
"Might I suggest something, princess?" Sen stood and brushed the snow off his clothes. "You're always complaining about how we don't let you wander far enough--"
"That's perfect!" Cel cried, springing to her feet. "I'll ask him if he'll be less...less...what's the word? Well, if he'll let me go--"
"To Salpas," Sen finished. "You see, because you cooked and cleaned instead of Leander, we've had an extra hand in our mining. So this year, we have twice as much to show for our hard work."
"What's Salpas?"
"A small village nearby," Sen explained. "We trade with them every year; usually half of our finds go to the people of Salpas in exchange for things that we need."
"So THAT's where you get all that cloth! I knew none of you could spin! So what does this have to do with me?"
"Usually, Gaelan and I go to Salpas every year, but since this year we have more to bring with us...it shouldn't be hard to twist Bazek's arm into letting you go. If you want to," Sen added.
"Of course I want to go!"
"Then ask him. Now, we'd best try to find our way back. Everyone's worried sick about you," said Sen. "Especially Adon."
"He was right," Cel laughed. "I AM better off with my feet on the ground."
"I don't know how she did it," Zachiriah said gloomily.
"Never underestimate my mother," Silvea said. "I learned that too late. The best we can do now is make sure your father lives a long and healthy life."
"I still don't know how she managed to convince the council!" Zachiriah burst. "I know those nobles, Silvea! They're not easily swayed into doing anything!"
"She probably slipped potions into their drinks," Silvea muttered. "Why else would they vote in favor of her? It would definitely be in Telren's best interests if Fendel and Telren joined immediately, rather than waiting until after the deaths of both my mother and father."
"And still, those nobles are old-fashioned traditionalists! The treaty was signed before we were even wed! They would never vote against a binding document! It clearly stated that Fendel would become a provence of Telren precisely thirty days after the death of your father! Yet she managed to convince the council to make ammendments!"
"What we need is a royal mage," Silvea said slowly. "To prevent her from doing anything of this sort ever again."
"Where will we find a royal mage?" Zachiriah demanded. "I suppose we'll just pluck one out a local village?"
"Make a royal announcement," Silvea said sensibly. "Offer a high pay. Make sure to mention that we will have them demonstrate their skill."
"And how are we to prevent ourselves from being dazzled by hocus-pocus tricks?" Zachiriah muttered. Silvea laughed.
"Oh, I'm not easily dazzled by hocus-pocus tricks." Silvea sobered. "My sister performed them all the time, though I have no idea where she learned them."
"So we hire a royal mage. Then what?"
"Then our royal mage will tell us whenever someone's using spells or potions to...to...hmmm, I see your point." Silvea bit her lip. "Our royal mage will tell us whenever someone's using spells or potions to evil ends."
"'Evil ends'?"
"Just whenever someone's using a spell or potion, or any other form of magic," Silvea said crossly. "My mother isn't the only threat, you know. There are so many sorcerers in Telren, and none of them take too kindly to royalty after what your father did to them. Think of Aramys, at least!"
"Then so be it," Zachiriah said with a sigh.
It was so simple a plan that Queen Minerva was shocked that she hadn't thought of it earlier. It would be so easy to simply kill Icelynai. Then, she would be the fairest in the land. Then she wouldn't have to worry about finding Evelwyn's Gift, either, for if it was prophecised, would not Evelwyn's Gift find its way to her?
"Minerva, you sly fox," she crooned to herself as she thought of ways to murder Icelynai. Strangle her, or drown her, or poison her? Which would be more fulfilling, more rewarding?
"She's been a thorn in my side for long enough," Queen Minerva muttered under her breath. Indeed, Icelynai had been an obstacle, a source of constant annoyance and trouble since she first entered her life.
Or, Queen Minerva thought suddenly, better yet, she could take Icelynai's youth. Perhaps that would be best of all, to restore herself to her old loveliness and destroy Icelynai in one stroke. Brilliance.
She almost asked her magic mirror for advice but stopped herself in time. Yes, she would do this by herself and gloat later.
"Naturally the spell would be complicated," she mumbled. Yet her powers are grown steadily over the past few years. Surely she was strong enough now to do such a spell?
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*Imyrs Nmeh is the second Imyrs of Mornth. Imyrs is a title, or a rank. The Imyrses of Mornth control the military forces in times of peace. Notta-he, Nmeh's home, is one of the many forests of Mornth (He, the 'e' pronounced like a grunt--'uh', means forest). A few generations ago, Notta-he was heavily populated by the People, mostly troublesome sprites and specters, until the people of Mornth--the Duriu--drove them out.
**The Drui are the rulers of Mornth. The monarchies of Mornth ended with the death of King Charming the V, only to be started again after the death of Drui MeNatth. Druis are equivalent of princes and princesses. The Drui are actually not Duriu but descendants of Elves. (the Duriu are descendant from the People) Mornth nobility are usually neither like the Drui or the Duriu but purely Human (Lei is an exception). The Ancint Druimor is the alphabet used in all legal writings and anything concerning the Drui.
***Lovely Queen Ra is the nickname for the queen of about nine hundred years ago (her real name is Rapunzel). Of peasant origin, she changed many of the more barbaric laws, including the banning necromacy and execution by dissection. After wedding Prince Willem, she gave away her Tower to Lei's family because of their aid when she was lost in the wilderness. King Charming the IV and Queen Briar-Rose (also known as the Sleeping Beauty) ruled during the time when Mornth stretched far to the north, into part of which is now the Slivitt and Kikasc Provences. The Northern Queen was pressing her realm downward, and there was a battle in which King Charming IV defeated the Northern People. Most of the Northern People were killed, and their belongings burned, but a small company of about two hundred managed to escape and fled into the heart of what it now Telren.
****The Northern People is the Mornth term for the Snow Children, or snow sprites, or the Snow People. There were seven Northern Queens (known as the Kiasci-skkia) who conquered much of the world for the Northern People until their rule was stopped by King Charming the IV.
A note: Obviously, in this story, Dwarves and Elves are not included in the term "People", which usually means all magical, humanoid beings, but in this case applies to mostly faeries, sprites, and specters. Therefore, Goblins, Trolls, etc. are not considered part of the term "People" either.
AN: I'm SOO sorry about having to immerse you all in the culture of Mornth...but I just thought we needed a different culture, to give the story more flavor and make it more interesting (and now it's proving to be more trouble than it's worth!!) I promise that I won't make you learn all about the culture of Telren (though it IS tempting...)
AN: Just a question...because this story is dragging on MUCH longer than I originally expected!...do you want me to just do a poisoned apple (i.e., Disney) or the whole works (poisoned comb, corset laces, and THEN the apple)? Or do a poisoned comb and a poisoned apple, skipping the laces? Or come up with my own way of killing her (hehe)?Personally, doing the whole works would take WAYYYY too long (right now, this story is lookin' like it'll need near 12 parts to finish!!!!!)