Chapter 4
I spent five days with the Royal Family of Kyrria. Between sliding down stair rails and walking through the gardens, I forced myself to think about my teacher. On the evening of my fifth day in their company, I announced to them I was to return home the next day. They were very understanding, and did not press me as to my decision.
I woke early the next morning. I grabbed some food from the kitchens to eat and preceded to wrap them in a small bag that had been given to me, along with the dress I had worn when I first encountered the family. I tied my sword across my waist and, at the last minute, tucked my knife into my bag, while leaving my hair down.
I was just walking out the door when I heard Osian call my name and tell me to wait. I turned around and saw him tying his own sword to his waist and running down the stairs.
"Yes?" I said. I wanted to be off as soon as possible.
"I'm coming with you," he informed me.
"No, you are not," I corrected him. Hardly the way to talk to the future ruler of Kyrria, but I could not have him fallowing me.
"I insist upon it," he stated in a voice that told me there was no use in arguing. I proceeded not to listen to it.
"You can not fallow me and that is that," I replied in a brisk manner. "I do not want you to know me more then you have to. You would not like what you saw."
"Is that so?" He questioned.
"Yes, that is so. And now, if you will excuse me," I turned to leave.
"Ophelia!"
Great! Now the queen was in on the action. Was the whole town of Frell planning to fallow me?
I turned around again to see not only the queen, but the King and Adriana as well. They descended down the opposite staircase and walked toward me.
"You look wonderful today!" were the first words out of Adriana's mouth. I looked down. The white dress I was wearing I had bought in town the previous day. I did not see anything wonderful about it, or my appearance as a whole for that matter. I thanked her.
"We know you want to be off and we just wanted to wish you farewell," the King said with a smile. "I hope you come back and visit us from time to time."
I was unsure how to respond to this comment, so I just nodded. The queen then noticed the sword Osian wore and asked if he was to go hunting.
"I am escorting Ophelia back home," he said. I knew then I had lost the battle. So did he. The king made some comment to his son about that being a noble gesture as I opened my bag and withdrew my knife. I was in no mood to have to watch over a prince who could not fight half a dozen ogres without a dozen men. I was sure that he was good in hand- to- hand combat, but one never uses hand- to- hand combat when fighting with ogres. In such cases as these I knew that the more weapons I had at easy access, the better off I was. I held the knife behind my back and with a few quick arm movements I had my hair up in a bun. Adriana stared at me, shocked.
"How did you do that?" she asked.
"Years of practice," I replied briefly, for I was anxious to go.
"Well, we will not detain you any longer," The king said. "'Till our next meeting!" He nodded.
I curtsied and walked out the door, the prince close on my heels. He proceeded to pump me with questions:
"Where exactly do you live?"
"In the forest."
"I knew that much. What town do you live near?"
"We go to Yent."
"Yent?"
"Yes."
"How far do you live from Yent?"
"Three miles."
"Really? How far are you from here?"
"Six miles."
"Oh."
We walked in silence through the forest. As much as I loved open fields and meadows, I felt sure that I would live my entire life in the forest. Who could choose a flat plain over canopy of emerald trees?
As we neared my "home," I took pity on Osian. He had no idea what he was getting himself into. We entered the clearing where I lived, and I felt a pang of longing. I had missed this place more then I realized; indeed, I had lived here for nearly fifteen years. I looked around at the campsite, almost laughing at how shocked Osian was.
"This is where you live?" He asked, his voice full of disbelief.
"Yes." I could understand why he was shocked. In the center of the clearing, which was no more then 30 paces wide, was where the fire used to burn. One could still see the ashes. Spanning where the fire used to burn was a pole (suspended by two other poles) that a pot hung from. On the side of the clearing where we were, was a small circle of about ten paces completely clear of twigs and leaves, so that only the dirt was seen. A rope marked the perimeter of the circle. Across the clearing was a table, stacked high with books and papers in an unorganized fashion. There were two stools carved out of wood, one on either side of the long, low table, also made of wood. On the left and right sides of the clearing, there were two sets of trees (one on either side) with a hammock strung between them. The trees were old and carved out to make shelves, in which books were stored. I looked to the right hammock, and I could still see the body of my teacher: dead.
We made our way slowly across to the body, and I stood and watched as Osian turned it over. Thank goodness his eyes were closed. He looked at the reminisce of blood on my teacher's shirt, and there was no need to ask what had happened. He had been stabbed through the heart. Although I was sure he had seen many dead bodies, this one was rather different. Whether it was where we were or who he had been, it made our blood run cold. We stood there standing, just staring at the body, when I heard a voice I had wanted to hear call my name:
"Ophelia!" he hollered. I whipped around and saw a tall, tan figure with deep blue eyes and disheveled brown hair. I ran and threw my arms around his neck, standing on tiptoe. He lifted me as if I were a little child up off my feet and swung me around, narrowly missing a pile of books.
"Adelio!" I cried. I was thrilled to see him. He set me down on my feet and looked me up and down, as if examining me.
"You look extremely pretty today."
I blushed deeply and murmured thanks.
"I saw what happened to your teacher three days ago, and have been coming back every day since in hopes you would return." He informed me. He then looked deep into my eyes, and I blushed again. "Ophelia, what happened?"
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Osian looking uncomfortable; as if not knowing what to do while we talked. I knew I owed him an explanation. After introductions on both parts I grabbed the two chairs from the table and placed them in front of my hammock. They moved over and sat in the two chairs, as I was sitting on the hammock. I took a deep breath and started my narrative:
"Around a week and a half ago," I started, "My teacher told me a story, of one of his first students." I then preceded to tell them about a knight that my teacher used to teach, and all the things he learned while under my teacher's tutelage. One day, the knight left my teacher, for my teacher did not want to use what he knew to gain power, while the knight did. This knight wrote him a letter recently, threatening him. He said that if my teacher interfered with his new work, he would be punished. I concluded with "He was killed a few days later."
I informed Adelio of what I had been doing since my teacher had been killed, and we then sat in silence.
"Have you any idea why this knight feared your teacher?" Osian suddenly asked, breaking the silence.
"I had thought it was because he was the only one who could stop him from doing whatever it is he is planning to do," I said.
"There is one way to find out," Adelio said, looking at me. He was, of course, right. He was always right.
"I'll take the bookshelves, you two take the table," I said, jumping off the hammock and running across the clearing. They headed over to the table and started shifting through the papers.
"What are we looking for?" Osian asked.
"Anything of importance," I responded. I grabbed a book from the top of one shelf and skimmed the pages. Skimming was yet another thing that I had been taught.
"Seven vulnerable 'knock-out places' on the human body?" Osian read with shock. He looked at me in disbelief.
"What? It's very useful to know," I defended myself, reaching for another book.
"I'll never forget the time you were mad at me and used one of them!" Adelio said laughing. "I don't even remember why you were mad at me now! All I remember is that to make up to you I kissed you on the cheek and you ran your fingers through my hair, and the next thing I knew I was tied to a tree!" he laughed some more. "You were standing in front of me, almost fuming with anger!"
Osian looked at me with surprise.
"For your information," I said with some annoyance, "There is a nerve just behind the ear that, when pressed, can knock someone unconscious."
"Oh! Is that why you ran your fingers through my hair? I thought you were in love with me!" Adelio said, grinning.
"You wish!" I retorted.
After five minutes more of searching, Adelio announced:
"Sheesh! How long have you lived here? 15 years, right?"
"Yes, ever since I was 5."
"And you learned all this in just 15 years? How did you manage to read all these books and memorize all of these lists?"
"What?" I said looking over. "Oh, those are just for this year. Actually, my teacher had a house in Bast where he kept all of these books. He would take one big trip there every year or so to return the books and lists we'd finished and pick up new ones. I've never been there though."
"Was that why you borrowed the cart every year?" Adelio asked.
"Yes."
"Will we be finished sorting these this year, do you think?" Osian pitched in. "Maybe then we can visit his house and take the rest of our lives searching that."
"Quit complaining, I-" I broke off speaking. I had just reached back to grab another book on one of the lower shelves and noticed another book hidden behind it. I dropped the book I had in my hands with a loud thud and grabbed the other book. It was a thin, worn, black book. There was no author, but the title was in Ogrese and the book was about Dragons. Why would he want to hide this? I thought.
"What is it?" Adelio asked, as he stopped shifting through is papers to look. The two walked over.
"I'm not quite sure," I said. "The book is about dragons, and it is in Ogrese, but it was hidden behind the other books. I can't seem to figure out why."
"It looks very old," Osian said. He had a gift for stating the obvious.
"It looks familiar, but I do not- Oh!" I suddenly exclaimed. "He used to read this book late at night, when he thought I was asleep." I tried to open the book. I could not. "Well that's just great!" I said. "It won't open!"
"Maybe there is a latch or something," Osian said. It sounded stupid but it was all we could think of, so I ran my hands over the book, trying to get it.
"It's not working at- Whoa!" The last word was dedicated to the title. As I ran my hands over it, the letters moved. "I think we are supposed to rearrange the letters or something."
As I pushed the letters around the book into different words, I thought it was just like my teacher to have something like this. After nearly fifteen minutes of arranging and rearranging the letters. I pulled on the cover and, to my great astonishment, it opened.
"Let me see that," Osian demanded. He looked at the cover. "I thought you said it was in Ogrese."
"It was."
"But that looks like Elfian."
"It is."
"Huh?"
"The original cover is in Ogrese, but the rearranged letters spell out the Elfian words for 'Private Journal,'" I explained.
"Oh."
I flipped through the pages. So maybe he was writing in it, not reading. All of them were encoded; no doubt he did it as much for his own amusement as to prevent people from reading it.
"It's in code," I informed them.
"Well, that's just great! How are we supposed to read it now?" said Adelio.
I said nothing but flipped through the last pages of the journal. As I reached the end, I saw a letter between the last writing page and the back cover. I picked it up.
"What is that?" Adelio asked.
"A letter," I responded. "A letter; addressed to me."
*Author's Note(s): First and foremost I want to thank you for reading this, and I want to ask you to review it. A big thanks to GreenTyger, PrincessDangerCow, Dincristiel, and Johanna May for reviewing it! I hope you like the longer chapter, its 2 more pages then I usually write, but it's not as good as I would like it to be. And I should probably add a disclaimer, so here goes (it's really pathetic):
I do not claim credit to any of the fallowing characters: King Charmont, Queen Eleanor. I do not claim credit to their setting. I do not claim credit to the nerve behind the ear (Amelia Peabody series). I do claim credit to what happens to the characters, and request that the plot not be copied.*
I spent five days with the Royal Family of Kyrria. Between sliding down stair rails and walking through the gardens, I forced myself to think about my teacher. On the evening of my fifth day in their company, I announced to them I was to return home the next day. They were very understanding, and did not press me as to my decision.
I woke early the next morning. I grabbed some food from the kitchens to eat and preceded to wrap them in a small bag that had been given to me, along with the dress I had worn when I first encountered the family. I tied my sword across my waist and, at the last minute, tucked my knife into my bag, while leaving my hair down.
I was just walking out the door when I heard Osian call my name and tell me to wait. I turned around and saw him tying his own sword to his waist and running down the stairs.
"Yes?" I said. I wanted to be off as soon as possible.
"I'm coming with you," he informed me.
"No, you are not," I corrected him. Hardly the way to talk to the future ruler of Kyrria, but I could not have him fallowing me.
"I insist upon it," he stated in a voice that told me there was no use in arguing. I proceeded not to listen to it.
"You can not fallow me and that is that," I replied in a brisk manner. "I do not want you to know me more then you have to. You would not like what you saw."
"Is that so?" He questioned.
"Yes, that is so. And now, if you will excuse me," I turned to leave.
"Ophelia!"
Great! Now the queen was in on the action. Was the whole town of Frell planning to fallow me?
I turned around again to see not only the queen, but the King and Adriana as well. They descended down the opposite staircase and walked toward me.
"You look wonderful today!" were the first words out of Adriana's mouth. I looked down. The white dress I was wearing I had bought in town the previous day. I did not see anything wonderful about it, or my appearance as a whole for that matter. I thanked her.
"We know you want to be off and we just wanted to wish you farewell," the King said with a smile. "I hope you come back and visit us from time to time."
I was unsure how to respond to this comment, so I just nodded. The queen then noticed the sword Osian wore and asked if he was to go hunting.
"I am escorting Ophelia back home," he said. I knew then I had lost the battle. So did he. The king made some comment to his son about that being a noble gesture as I opened my bag and withdrew my knife. I was in no mood to have to watch over a prince who could not fight half a dozen ogres without a dozen men. I was sure that he was good in hand- to- hand combat, but one never uses hand- to- hand combat when fighting with ogres. In such cases as these I knew that the more weapons I had at easy access, the better off I was. I held the knife behind my back and with a few quick arm movements I had my hair up in a bun. Adriana stared at me, shocked.
"How did you do that?" she asked.
"Years of practice," I replied briefly, for I was anxious to go.
"Well, we will not detain you any longer," The king said. "'Till our next meeting!" He nodded.
I curtsied and walked out the door, the prince close on my heels. He proceeded to pump me with questions:
"Where exactly do you live?"
"In the forest."
"I knew that much. What town do you live near?"
"We go to Yent."
"Yent?"
"Yes."
"How far do you live from Yent?"
"Three miles."
"Really? How far are you from here?"
"Six miles."
"Oh."
We walked in silence through the forest. As much as I loved open fields and meadows, I felt sure that I would live my entire life in the forest. Who could choose a flat plain over canopy of emerald trees?
As we neared my "home," I took pity on Osian. He had no idea what he was getting himself into. We entered the clearing where I lived, and I felt a pang of longing. I had missed this place more then I realized; indeed, I had lived here for nearly fifteen years. I looked around at the campsite, almost laughing at how shocked Osian was.
"This is where you live?" He asked, his voice full of disbelief.
"Yes." I could understand why he was shocked. In the center of the clearing, which was no more then 30 paces wide, was where the fire used to burn. One could still see the ashes. Spanning where the fire used to burn was a pole (suspended by two other poles) that a pot hung from. On the side of the clearing where we were, was a small circle of about ten paces completely clear of twigs and leaves, so that only the dirt was seen. A rope marked the perimeter of the circle. Across the clearing was a table, stacked high with books and papers in an unorganized fashion. There were two stools carved out of wood, one on either side of the long, low table, also made of wood. On the left and right sides of the clearing, there were two sets of trees (one on either side) with a hammock strung between them. The trees were old and carved out to make shelves, in which books were stored. I looked to the right hammock, and I could still see the body of my teacher: dead.
We made our way slowly across to the body, and I stood and watched as Osian turned it over. Thank goodness his eyes were closed. He looked at the reminisce of blood on my teacher's shirt, and there was no need to ask what had happened. He had been stabbed through the heart. Although I was sure he had seen many dead bodies, this one was rather different. Whether it was where we were or who he had been, it made our blood run cold. We stood there standing, just staring at the body, when I heard a voice I had wanted to hear call my name:
"Ophelia!" he hollered. I whipped around and saw a tall, tan figure with deep blue eyes and disheveled brown hair. I ran and threw my arms around his neck, standing on tiptoe. He lifted me as if I were a little child up off my feet and swung me around, narrowly missing a pile of books.
"Adelio!" I cried. I was thrilled to see him. He set me down on my feet and looked me up and down, as if examining me.
"You look extremely pretty today."
I blushed deeply and murmured thanks.
"I saw what happened to your teacher three days ago, and have been coming back every day since in hopes you would return." He informed me. He then looked deep into my eyes, and I blushed again. "Ophelia, what happened?"
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Osian looking uncomfortable; as if not knowing what to do while we talked. I knew I owed him an explanation. After introductions on both parts I grabbed the two chairs from the table and placed them in front of my hammock. They moved over and sat in the two chairs, as I was sitting on the hammock. I took a deep breath and started my narrative:
"Around a week and a half ago," I started, "My teacher told me a story, of one of his first students." I then preceded to tell them about a knight that my teacher used to teach, and all the things he learned while under my teacher's tutelage. One day, the knight left my teacher, for my teacher did not want to use what he knew to gain power, while the knight did. This knight wrote him a letter recently, threatening him. He said that if my teacher interfered with his new work, he would be punished. I concluded with "He was killed a few days later."
I informed Adelio of what I had been doing since my teacher had been killed, and we then sat in silence.
"Have you any idea why this knight feared your teacher?" Osian suddenly asked, breaking the silence.
"I had thought it was because he was the only one who could stop him from doing whatever it is he is planning to do," I said.
"There is one way to find out," Adelio said, looking at me. He was, of course, right. He was always right.
"I'll take the bookshelves, you two take the table," I said, jumping off the hammock and running across the clearing. They headed over to the table and started shifting through the papers.
"What are we looking for?" Osian asked.
"Anything of importance," I responded. I grabbed a book from the top of one shelf and skimmed the pages. Skimming was yet another thing that I had been taught.
"Seven vulnerable 'knock-out places' on the human body?" Osian read with shock. He looked at me in disbelief.
"What? It's very useful to know," I defended myself, reaching for another book.
"I'll never forget the time you were mad at me and used one of them!" Adelio said laughing. "I don't even remember why you were mad at me now! All I remember is that to make up to you I kissed you on the cheek and you ran your fingers through my hair, and the next thing I knew I was tied to a tree!" he laughed some more. "You were standing in front of me, almost fuming with anger!"
Osian looked at me with surprise.
"For your information," I said with some annoyance, "There is a nerve just behind the ear that, when pressed, can knock someone unconscious."
"Oh! Is that why you ran your fingers through my hair? I thought you were in love with me!" Adelio said, grinning.
"You wish!" I retorted.
After five minutes more of searching, Adelio announced:
"Sheesh! How long have you lived here? 15 years, right?"
"Yes, ever since I was 5."
"And you learned all this in just 15 years? How did you manage to read all these books and memorize all of these lists?"
"What?" I said looking over. "Oh, those are just for this year. Actually, my teacher had a house in Bast where he kept all of these books. He would take one big trip there every year or so to return the books and lists we'd finished and pick up new ones. I've never been there though."
"Was that why you borrowed the cart every year?" Adelio asked.
"Yes."
"Will we be finished sorting these this year, do you think?" Osian pitched in. "Maybe then we can visit his house and take the rest of our lives searching that."
"Quit complaining, I-" I broke off speaking. I had just reached back to grab another book on one of the lower shelves and noticed another book hidden behind it. I dropped the book I had in my hands with a loud thud and grabbed the other book. It was a thin, worn, black book. There was no author, but the title was in Ogrese and the book was about Dragons. Why would he want to hide this? I thought.
"What is it?" Adelio asked, as he stopped shifting through is papers to look. The two walked over.
"I'm not quite sure," I said. "The book is about dragons, and it is in Ogrese, but it was hidden behind the other books. I can't seem to figure out why."
"It looks very old," Osian said. He had a gift for stating the obvious.
"It looks familiar, but I do not- Oh!" I suddenly exclaimed. "He used to read this book late at night, when he thought I was asleep." I tried to open the book. I could not. "Well that's just great!" I said. "It won't open!"
"Maybe there is a latch or something," Osian said. It sounded stupid but it was all we could think of, so I ran my hands over the book, trying to get it.
"It's not working at- Whoa!" The last word was dedicated to the title. As I ran my hands over it, the letters moved. "I think we are supposed to rearrange the letters or something."
As I pushed the letters around the book into different words, I thought it was just like my teacher to have something like this. After nearly fifteen minutes of arranging and rearranging the letters. I pulled on the cover and, to my great astonishment, it opened.
"Let me see that," Osian demanded. He looked at the cover. "I thought you said it was in Ogrese."
"It was."
"But that looks like Elfian."
"It is."
"Huh?"
"The original cover is in Ogrese, but the rearranged letters spell out the Elfian words for 'Private Journal,'" I explained.
"Oh."
I flipped through the pages. So maybe he was writing in it, not reading. All of them were encoded; no doubt he did it as much for his own amusement as to prevent people from reading it.
"It's in code," I informed them.
"Well, that's just great! How are we supposed to read it now?" said Adelio.
I said nothing but flipped through the last pages of the journal. As I reached the end, I saw a letter between the last writing page and the back cover. I picked it up.
"What is that?" Adelio asked.
"A letter," I responded. "A letter; addressed to me."
*Author's Note(s): First and foremost I want to thank you for reading this, and I want to ask you to review it. A big thanks to GreenTyger, PrincessDangerCow, Dincristiel, and Johanna May for reviewing it! I hope you like the longer chapter, its 2 more pages then I usually write, but it's not as good as I would like it to be. And I should probably add a disclaimer, so here goes (it's really pathetic):
I do not claim credit to any of the fallowing characters: King Charmont, Queen Eleanor. I do not claim credit to their setting. I do not claim credit to the nerve behind the ear (Amelia Peabody series). I do claim credit to what happens to the characters, and request that the plot not be copied.*