She was a woman, yes, a woman far gone in years, but still beautiful and
treacherous.
Her life was a strange one, filled often with pain, regrets, and happiness too, sometimes at the oddest moments.
So much had happened to change her, and yet the core of her being was always the same. Time passed, but the woman with the black hair remained fundamentally the same. The Tree reminded her of this.
Her education had begun early, her teachers; a father whom she believed, foolishly, to feel no love for, and a mother whom resided only inside her mind. She spoke to birds as though they were people, and cared for them as though they were her own children. She had brothers, but not in the sibling like sense of the word. They were powerful, as she was, and tough, even while living with a hidden compassion. She had learned much from them, over the years.
And then there was her sister. Beautiful, blond haired Beldaran. Always the pretty one. So willing to forgive, to forget, to give love even to those undeserving. Beneath Beldaran's sunny exterior stood a will of stone that the dark-haired girl could never hope to replicate. She had tried. Sometimes she felt as though her whole life had been given to living up to Beldaran's standards. She gave in willingly, even now, when her sister had been gone for so many years. With so powerful a family, the raven haired child had no choice but to grow up and become powerful herself. Yet still she refused to live with the trappings of that power.
Her life changed forever when her sister died. She became a mother to the world, fighting to protect the only things worthwhile in her life.
She stood watch over a city for 600 years; a city that was beautiful and pure, a city that was destined to be destroyed. She loved a man that was destined to die, even as he fought for her and her love. He was gentle, poetic, and completley unavailable to her. Mortality was his to live and die for, while she had the grace to pass mortality by.
Her attentions, then, went to raising all those small, sandy haired children, in hopes that one day, one would come that would save the world from the Dark God's insane wrath. Wave after wave of serious faced little boys were born, raised, grown, and then died, all before her ageless eyes. She had never gotten used to death, and each time, the "emotionless" woman cried tears of sorrow for those that had left her. The last little boy, hardly little any longer, had finally given her hope, when she had at last begun to lose sight of it. His red-haired wife kept him happy and busy, and he had grown up to be more that she could have ever dreamed him to be.
A single tear slid down her face, now, as she marched towards the Tree, her children in tow. She had something to do, and while she wasn't sure what it was, she knew the Tree would have her answers.
She stood atop the grassy hill, staring down upon the Tree in all it's glory. The day had begun to wane, and the sun was setting, falling to it's nightly rest. Orange-red light played among the gently swaying leaves of the ancient tree, making it seem as though it were dancing.
Her eyes, now a dark, contented blue, gazed solemnly at the peaceful scene around her. She was not sure what force brought her to this familiar place tonight. Perhaps she wanted her two children, twins, to see the Tree, the being that had begun everything for the black haired beauty. Her life had started here. Here she had begun her education, watched a sister grow further from her heart, endured seeming abandonment by both her mother, and her father. Here she had raged when her father returned, in silent fury and angst. The Tree had taught her much. But she still had one lesson yet to learn.
Polgara held her two children in arms, gently rocking them as she approached the ancient creature. She had never thought of it as just a tree, but always as a living, sentient being, one that achieved agelessness throughout time and history. The Tree had always been there, waiting.
She was surpised to find tears in her eyes, even as the knowledge of what she must do was set upon her. Raising her children high towards the branches, she let each child touch the Tree's bark, lovingly, and for the first time. She knew what would happen. And to the children, a window seemed to open inside their brains, and they saw, even for a moment, what they would become. They smiled, in infant happiness, content with what the Tree has blessed them with.
Polgara, too, smiled her rare smile, and snuggled her children close.
"I know not what will become of you as you grow older. But know, that through it all, I will be by your side, when you realize what it is you must do."
Her life was a strange one, filled often with pain, regrets, and happiness too, sometimes at the oddest moments.
So much had happened to change her, and yet the core of her being was always the same. Time passed, but the woman with the black hair remained fundamentally the same. The Tree reminded her of this.
Her education had begun early, her teachers; a father whom she believed, foolishly, to feel no love for, and a mother whom resided only inside her mind. She spoke to birds as though they were people, and cared for them as though they were her own children. She had brothers, but not in the sibling like sense of the word. They were powerful, as she was, and tough, even while living with a hidden compassion. She had learned much from them, over the years.
And then there was her sister. Beautiful, blond haired Beldaran. Always the pretty one. So willing to forgive, to forget, to give love even to those undeserving. Beneath Beldaran's sunny exterior stood a will of stone that the dark-haired girl could never hope to replicate. She had tried. Sometimes she felt as though her whole life had been given to living up to Beldaran's standards. She gave in willingly, even now, when her sister had been gone for so many years. With so powerful a family, the raven haired child had no choice but to grow up and become powerful herself. Yet still she refused to live with the trappings of that power.
Her life changed forever when her sister died. She became a mother to the world, fighting to protect the only things worthwhile in her life.
She stood watch over a city for 600 years; a city that was beautiful and pure, a city that was destined to be destroyed. She loved a man that was destined to die, even as he fought for her and her love. He was gentle, poetic, and completley unavailable to her. Mortality was his to live and die for, while she had the grace to pass mortality by.
Her attentions, then, went to raising all those small, sandy haired children, in hopes that one day, one would come that would save the world from the Dark God's insane wrath. Wave after wave of serious faced little boys were born, raised, grown, and then died, all before her ageless eyes. She had never gotten used to death, and each time, the "emotionless" woman cried tears of sorrow for those that had left her. The last little boy, hardly little any longer, had finally given her hope, when she had at last begun to lose sight of it. His red-haired wife kept him happy and busy, and he had grown up to be more that she could have ever dreamed him to be.
A single tear slid down her face, now, as she marched towards the Tree, her children in tow. She had something to do, and while she wasn't sure what it was, she knew the Tree would have her answers.
She stood atop the grassy hill, staring down upon the Tree in all it's glory. The day had begun to wane, and the sun was setting, falling to it's nightly rest. Orange-red light played among the gently swaying leaves of the ancient tree, making it seem as though it were dancing.
Her eyes, now a dark, contented blue, gazed solemnly at the peaceful scene around her. She was not sure what force brought her to this familiar place tonight. Perhaps she wanted her two children, twins, to see the Tree, the being that had begun everything for the black haired beauty. Her life had started here. Here she had begun her education, watched a sister grow further from her heart, endured seeming abandonment by both her mother, and her father. Here she had raged when her father returned, in silent fury and angst. The Tree had taught her much. But she still had one lesson yet to learn.
Polgara held her two children in arms, gently rocking them as she approached the ancient creature. She had never thought of it as just a tree, but always as a living, sentient being, one that achieved agelessness throughout time and history. The Tree had always been there, waiting.
She was surpised to find tears in her eyes, even as the knowledge of what she must do was set upon her. Raising her children high towards the branches, she let each child touch the Tree's bark, lovingly, and for the first time. She knew what would happen. And to the children, a window seemed to open inside their brains, and they saw, even for a moment, what they would become. They smiled, in infant happiness, content with what the Tree has blessed them with.
Polgara, too, smiled her rare smile, and snuggled her children close.
"I know not what will become of you as you grow older. But know, that through it all, I will be by your side, when you realize what it is you must do."