A/N: Well, here's the next chapter, actually on time for a change. I am still going through chaos; I completed an assignment due today only this morning, and forgot to hand my lab report in on time, and left my article reviews to the last minute… anyway, it's crazy. But I'll get this up now so I can concentrate on homework this weekend. Enjoy!

Special thanks to Vanilla Bean CEO for reviewing the last chapter and urging an update! I'm so very appreciative of the reviews; you deserve a prize. Maybe I'll name a minor character after you…

Daughters of the Clayr

Six women and one girl stood inside an enormous ice cave. They shivered with cold, their breath issuing in fragile clouds from between their trembling lips. Light refracted off the craggy blue walls, glittered on the tiny icicles that powdered them.

The daughters of the Clayr had gathered. High above them, between the peaks of Starmount and Sunfall, the Wallmakers were working on crafting their new home. But this vast subterranean cave remained as yet untouched. The seven sisters were to gather within this long-forgotten cave, and await Mosrael's appearance. By Neryl's reckoning he was an hour late, but who was she to scold one of the Bright Shiners? Perhaps they did not think of time as humans did. Half an hour to them could be half a minute to Mosrael.

Neryl stamped her feet, trying to stay warm. Although she was a born and bred Northerner, she was still chilled to the bone, despite the layers of heavy fur that swathed her from head to toe. Outside the cave and down a narrow passageway, her mother waited with King Berillan and a few Wallmakers. No doubt they were staying nice and toasty warm with their Charter spells, but this cave was a strange place, and it was difficult to perform Charter Magic here.

Of the gathered women, Neryl was the eldest. At her age, her mother had already been the Clayr for many years – and a mother of six to boot! But Neryl herself was barely scratching a living. She had refused the help of her mother and sisters, travelling from village to village to read signs in the stars for a price. The tall blond woman was beautiful, but she could not bear children. Such a condition made it impossible for her to keep a husband, and thus impossible to keep a home without being labelled "witch".

Penemue was a year younger than Neryl, and much weaker in Sight. But she had something that Neryl would trade all of her remarkable talents for: Penemue was a mother and a wife, and not to any man, but the Crown Prince Dantalion. Even if this was not the perfect fairy-tale wedding, Neryl would still greatly envy her sister's three beautiful children. Neryl was quite fond of her nieces and nephew, but Penemue had not brought them with her this time. She had returned north with the King for this particular occasion, leaving her little family in Belisaere. Dantalion was ruling in his father's absence, and apparently was miserable without Penemue.

After Penemue came the identical twins, Cimeri and Berithi. They had the odd habit of either completing each other's sentences, or speaking at the exact same time, a habit that could be disconcerting for those who did not know them. Even more disconcerting was their bizarre sense of humour. They were famous among the Wallmakers for their practical jokes, and were regarded with disapproval, amusement, or dread. Ever since the Wallmakers had laid down floors of planks, they had been unable to perform their "ice-skating trick". Thank goodness. The twins had taken up residence in the glacier with their mother ever since construction of the house began, and knew the twisting caves and corridors better than anyone else.

Gressa, at twenty-four, was still very young. She was now pacing restlessly across the cave, kicking at the ground. Gressa tried Neryl's patience the most, and seemed to relish rubbing all of her sisters the wrong way. This did not stop every eligible young man in their mother's village from being infatuated with her. She had received her first proposal at fifteen, and the poor young lad had to face Gressa's enormous blacksmith uncle and his three burly sons. With Tirelle in Belisaere, Gressa had been raised by her brawny uncle and cousins, and had become proficient at making weapons – and using them.

Next in age was Saranim, whose kindness seemed to compensate for Gressa's forceful personality. Like Gressa, she had been raised by the family of one of Tirelle's older siblings. Unlike Gressa, Saranim had often visited the palace. Nobody could help loving Saranim. People at Belisaere still talked about the time the King had cancelled dinner with his brother – Prince Orrofin of Ancelstierre – to teach Saranim how to play Druque.

Last of all was little Eligora, the seventh child of a seventh child. She was a frail-looking girl, but Neryl could feel the inferno of power blazing within her. Eligora would grow to be stronger than herself, stronger even than their mother in the Sight. Tirelle had cared for Eligora as a baby, but her duties as the Clayr got in the way. Neryl had agreed to look after a four-year-old Eligora, taking her along on her travels between villages. When construction in the glacier had started a year later, she had returned the child to Tirelle and the twins.

"How much longer do you think it will be?"

Neryl turned to look at Gressa, whose arms were crossed impatiently. "I do not know," Neryl answered. "But Mosrael is a Shining One, and wondering when he will arrive will not make it happen any faster." Gressa rolled her blue eyes, but did not make any smart remarks.

Eligora hugged her arms, and shivered. Although the sisters wore the heavy furs typical of the northern people, it was bitterly cold in the icy cave. "Neryl, why did he have to choose this spot?" the girl asked, teeth chattering.

The woman wrapped her arms around her youngest sister in an attempt to warm her. Due to their difference in age, Eligora had come to be more of a daughter to her than a sister, especially during their travels together. "It is an ancient place," Neryl explained kindly. "Years ago, they say that people came to these caves in the glacier to perform rituals. It's saturated with magic. Or something like magic."

"Is it quite safe?" Penemue asked, raising her eyebrow. The thin golden coronet surrounding her brow glinted. "We can barely use Charter Magic here."

"It's safe." Neryl smiled reassuringly. "Nobody has lived here for centuries."

"I live here."

The women spun around to face the speaker. Their mouths dropped open, and their eyes widened in a manner similar to startled deer caught on a path.

The being who had spoken lumbered through the entrance of the cave, huge paws padding softly on powdered snow. The women shrank back in fear; the beast seemed to fill the entire space. Finally, Neryl took a step forward, licking her lips nervously. "Mosrael?" she asked in a trembling voice.

The enormous creature nodded his head, black eyes sparkling. "Yes," he rumbled. "I am Mosrael." He sat back on his haunches, and extended a massive clawed paw to the daughter of the Clayr. Neryl gulped and shook it.

Mosrael was a polar bear, a colossal gleaming-white beast covered in luminous fur. He glowed with an almost unearthly light, but not so bright that you could not bear to look at him. But for all of his ferocious appearance, Mosrael smiled benignly down at the young women. "Are you the daughters of the Clayr?" the Bright Shiner asked.

Neryl nodded her golden head. "Yes. I'm Neryl, the eldest. That's Penemue with the crown. The twins are Cimeri and Berithi. Then Gressa, and Saranim, and the youngest is Eligora." The women curtseyed when introduced, which was quite an accomplishment when wearing heavy fur coats.

Mosrael twinkled down at Eligora. "And how old are you?" he asked.

"I'm twelve and a half years old," the girl said stoutly.

The Bright Shiner glanced at the eldest sister, his furry brow wrinkling in concern. "Is she too young? Should I perhaps wait a few more years?"

"Eligora has had the Sight for many years, and is very powerful," Neryl answered. "We are all ready."

Mosrael smiled. With his large white teeth, the effect was quite frightening. "Oh, I doubt that," the Shining One said amicably.

He settled himself more comfortably on the floor of the cave, and opened his mouth to speak. "I have decided to bequeath my power to you seven ladies, the daughters of the Clayr," he rumbled. "It will run into your very blood, and be passed on through generations. You are already gifted with the Sight, unusually so, but combined with my power your gifts will escalate immeasurably."

Eligora leaned forward, face shining with excitement.

The bear's voice grew suddenly serious. "I am the Waker. Although the Sight has already awoken in each of you, my power in your blood will cause you to See like no other human on this world can. Your powers may be almost debilitating for some of you. You may lose track of what is real and what is vision. You may become confused as to where and when you are. Your Sight will be both gift and curse. Is this what you want?"

The seven sisters exchanged uneasy glances.

"We are willing to serve, for the preservation of the Charter," Neryl said finally.

The young woman Gressa stamped her foot. "Speak for yourself, Neryl," she snapped. "You are barren and have no home, so it's all right for you to devote your life to this." She spun to look at Penemue. "But you have three children, sister. Your husband will be King one day. Are you willing to take the chance to throw all of that away?"

"Gressa!" admonished Saranim. Her sister brushed her off.

"I'm stating the facts," Gressa said bluntly. "I don't want to see the lives of my nieces and nephew ruined because of this. I am willing to do it, but I don't think that Penemue should."

The princess shook her head slightly. "Thank you for your concern," she said softly, "But do not think for one moment that I didn't consider my children when I made this decision."

Gressa bit her lip. "Are you sure, sister?" the mollified young woman demanded.

"Yes," stated Penemue simply. "The Charter must be preserved. I am honoured to be a part of this."

"So are we," chimed Cimeri and Berithi together. "Both of us."

Neryl looked at her two youngest sisters. "Are you willing?" she asked.

Saranim gulped and muttered, "Yes".

Young Eligora gave a confident nod and smile.

"All right". Neryl took a deep breath and turned to Mosrael. "We are all agreed."

The great white bear bowed his enormous head. "Very well," he rumbled. "Join your hands together and gather around me." The women moved to surround Mosrael, peeling off their fur mittens to clasp their hands tightly. "Now reach into the Charter," said the Bright Shiner.

Neryl closed her eyes, and soon she could feel the individual power of all of her sisters. Penemue was the weakest of the sisters, but possessed great skill. The twins were double sources of carefully-controlled fire. Gressa's power, though not very strong, was fierce and unrestrained. Saranim's fresh power was still young and growing. And Eligora's power burned with the intensity of a sun. Neryl had never felt closer to her sisters in her life. She caught Penemue's eye over Eligora's head, and the two women smiled.

"Let us begin!" Mosrael announced. "Let your Sight… awaken!"

Neryl was blinded by a flash of blue light, and she would have been knocked off her feet had she not been holding her sisters' hands. She felt a ripple of energy pass through her body – no, pass into her body. For a moment, she couldn't see, or hear, or feel anything. She was floating in darkness.

Then images started to flicker before her eyes.

A silver-haired Tirelle glanced, laughing, over her shoulder. Flicker. An ancient woman was pulled onto the top of a wall by helping hands. Flicker. A crowned man resembling Dantalion signed a document. Flicker. A black-haired youth cocked his wrist to ring a bell. Flicker. A crowd of white-clad women gathered in an icy cave. Flick–

"No! NO!"

Neryl brought her hands up to her eyes, beating at her head frantically to get rid of the images. After a terrifying moment of utter blackness, she slowly realized that she was lying on the cold ground of the cave. She stared at her hands, which looked white and skeletal in the bluish light. Neryl focussed on her hands, telling herself that this was real, this was the present. She was concentrating so much on her hands that it was a few minutes before she was able to notice anything else.

When she trusted herself enough to look around her, she saw her sisters similarly sprawled on the ground. Mosrael was nowhere to be seen. Penemue appeared to be in a state of severe shock, and Saranim writhed on the ground as if caught up in the throes of a very bad dream. Neryl blinked and rubbed her eyes again: her mother and King Berillan were in the cave, and were kneeling over Eligora's motionless body. Eligora… Oh no…

Gathering what little strength she had left, Neryl managed to crawl over to her youngest sister's side. Tirelle was cradling the girl's fragile body in her arms, staring down at the little white face. The Clayr's sword, Nehima, was digging into her side, but Neryl's mother did not notice.

The King helped Neryl sit up, and she managed to croak, "Is she…?"

"No," her mother answered hastily. "She lives. She sees only vision, and she will not awake from it."

The Clayr's eldest daughter looked back down at Eligora. The seventh child of a seventh child. It appeared that Eligora's great powers, augmented by Mosrael's, were truly both gift and curse. Neryl could not imagine a life lived only in visions of the future. And to happen to one so young…

There were tears in her eyes, and Neryl saw the same grief in her mother's face, and in the King's.

"Is this what you wanted?" Berillan said finally.

Tirelle slowly looked up at him, not comprehending his words.

"Is this what you wanted?" the King repeated. "For years you wished that one of the Bright Shiners would gift your blood with their powers. Now it has been done. You finally have what you longed for. Is it truly what you wanted?" The Clayr did not speak, and bowed her blond head over the body of her youngest daughter.

Neryl placed a shaking hand on her mother's shoulder. "We will take care of her," she said with confidence that she did not feel. "With our Sight, we could not live among regular society anyway. Our home is in this glacier, away from civilization. And we will take care of each other. You'll see."

Tirelle wiped her eyes, and nodded. "Yes," she whispered, her gaze not leaving Eligora. "We will take care of our own."

A/N: Poor Tirelle. So, we've got all the bloodlines finished, and the Great Stones. Now all that's left is the Wall! That won't be done for quite a bit of time, though. Meanwhile, there's still the little problem of the Freemen plaguing the Kingdom. Telling by the way this story is going, I think it'll be another ten chapters until completion. Hang in there!

Reviews, as always, would be lovely!