The Golden Tree

The First edition of The Secret World Emma 'Emmelyn' Ward

This is dedicated to my friend Jana I'll never forget her. She is the kindest, sweetest person. She always has a smile on her face and is always there to help. I love you, Jana. You are a wonderful friend to have.

Under the moonlight and the stars
Comes she, beneath the cloud and rain
Below the white gulls flying overhead
Come crying, through the darkness, the dead

Comes the radiant angel of the stars
To bring the sad fate of doom and death
Comes the lone and cold maiden of sorrow
The days and dawns are hers to borrow

Fall the dusk that shields the beaming moon
The dead do not rest, and the living shall sleep
When the Engel shall fail her ever-binding task
Will forever be doomed to wander under veiling mask

Life's secrets are revealed before the end
It's purpose exposed and past remembered
When death is commanded and followed by men
Unter dem Mondlicht und den Sternen

Janyn - Prologue

'...Unter dem Mondlicht und den Sternen.' The kneeling maiden whispered to herself. Under the moonlight and the stars. She was clothed in a purple gown, which poured gently over the yellow flowers that covered the ground, and her deep brown hair was a waterfall of silk. She leaned over a pool of silver water, and ran her hand gracefully along the surface, making small ripples with her fingertips. She blew slightly on the water's surface and peered at the man beside her from the corner of her eye.
The man, cautious, asked, 'Who are you?' But the maiden stayed silent. With a smile barely visible on her lips, she beckoned for him to come to the pond. He started, willingly, but soon faltered. He realized that he did not know who this maiden was, or in fact, where he was. 'Who are you?' he asked once more.
But she only replied, 'Will you look into the water, Aragorn Elessar?' The man, quite surprised she knew who he was, did not move. She stared at him through scared, dark eyes until he found it too painful to hold her gaze. Her eyes seemed oddly bright and flickered with excitement. She looked down at the gleaming water and waited for a response from Aragorn. At last, he moved forward once more, never lifting his untrusting eyes from her face. Aragorn, the king of Gondor, the largest kingdom of Men in Middle Earth, was touched with wisdom, and could sense a fear that lay upon her. He slowly knelt down beside her and peered into the silver water.
The tiny ripples became still and Aragorn could see his reflection perfectly imitated. His dark chocolate hair was like velvet. He felt the soft, fair skin on his face, and his scruffy brown beard. With a look of confusion he glanced quickly at the woman sitting beside him. She gave a slight smile and nodded down at the water. Aragorn did the same, but this time the silver water became a white mist that swirled. Aragorn was lost in a trance, eager for the fog to clear. Eventually colour stirred within the mist and an image of Cerin Amroth appeared. Aragorn recognized this place; it was where he and his beloved wife, Arwen, had made their promise to bind themselves to each other's fate and life, for she was an elf, immortal, and he was a human doomed for death. The vision became dark, as it showed his wife walking beneath the tall, glorious trees of Lórien. She was clad in black cloth and her face was veiled. She ventured to Cerin Amroth, a tear on her cheek. Her walk was slow and mournful, her head was bowed, and her usually gentle and amiable presence was now cold and distant. And under the setting sun and rising moon, she closed her eyes and lay motionless on a green hill until all breath of life had left her body.
Suddenly, the image was interrupted by the ripple effect of a tear falling into the water. The image vanished and was taken over by the calm silver water that now only mirrored Aragorn's reflection. He sat, quietly weeping, for quite some time, but still the maiden just intently watched. After he had collected himself he turned to her, shaking, and said. 'Who are you? What is this sorcery?' The maiden did not answer, but pretended to be examining a yellow flower beside her. 'What's happened to Arwen?' Asked the king in a raised voice, 'Why am I here?'
'My name is Janyn.' She said solemnly. 'You are dead, my lord, and so is she.'