George was feeling very proud of himself, he had resolved things, for the most part anyway, with Alyssa and brokered a deal with the Rechadian King about trade between their two countries. Perhaps his father would finally see him as the man he was, rather than an irresponsible child. His father the war hero had high expectations that he could never seem to meet. Where the King of Axia was hardened and battle savvy, George was compassionate and more interested in political strategy than military's armory. But no matter, George thought, this deal would prove that he too could manage a country. He would return home for now, in the mayhem after the almost collapse of a neighboring kingdom he thought it best to return to Axia. His people needed him, needed the image of a strong Prince at the helm of their nation. But it was with a heavy heart that he mounted his horse and rode west. He hoped that Alyssa would find herself, and return to him.
The King of Rechad was feeling troubled, a direct attack had been planned on his family and he hadn't even had an inkling. Surely that was indicative of a breach in security? Things would have to change now anyway, what with his country and the neighboring kingdoms in a state of unparalleled shock and uproar. He couldn't recall having seen such a political mess since his last history lesson as a boy, when they had discussed the failings of Odd King Oswald the Conquerer. That was an unfortunate piece of Rechadian history that the King often tried to forget had happened. Odd King Oswald had ruled with an iron fist, the only trouble was that he had been of questionable sanity. He had run around in his bathrobe claiming to have conquered all sorts of mythical and real lands. The trouble it caused, what with the citizens of neighboring countries forming small mobs in opposition of Oswald's "rule", when the man hadn't even set foot in their country his whole life—well. Anyhow, thought the King, best to avoid another horrendous misrepresentation of events. His people were demanding answers, not to mention the needs of the neighboring monarchs. Meanwhile his daughter the Princess, the only one aside from kind Prince George, with any answers to the entire dilemma was a changed woman. Morose one moment, and full of an unprecedented vitality to rule her country the next; well, thought the King, another puzzle to add to the list.
Sir Patrick was feeling gloomy. All of that uncontrolled vengeful yelling he'd done at the Princess the other day had ensured his continued solitude. He wasn't even worried about a possible impending execution anymore, just horrendously bored, grimy and cold. What he would give for a bucket of wash water and blanket! Didn't these people know who he was? He was Sir Patrick, more powerful than they knew and certainly not content to sit forgotten in a disgusting cell. Those idiots would pay yet for what they'd done to him! For what they'd taken from him! He pulled the chicken bone he had saved from his last pathetic meal from his pocket, and returned with renewed energy to sharpening it's end on the stone of his cell. The Duke of Belmonte had surely been scared into submission, but Sir Patrick refused to accept defeat. Besides, the Duke's men were loyal to money, not their moronic lord. These fools would regret leaving him down here to rot, he would see to it.
Alyssa was feeling angry with herself, she had yelled at George for nothing, and magic was proving to be a far more difficult subject than she had anticipated.
"Focus!" Delia said for what felt like the hundredth time.
"I'm trying," Alyssa muttered under her breath, but despite her frustration she took a moment to collect herself and will her mind to concentrate.
"Alyssa dear, you're overthinking it. Collect your thoughts and push everything aside except for what you wish to accomplish. Controlling your magic is simple if you let it be." Delia explained again, her patience apparently without limits. Alyssa nodded tersely and glared at the tumbler of water before her that she was trying to freeze.
Alyssa took a deep breath and trained her thoughts on freezing cold, on the first icy blizzard she had seen as a child, and on the burning feeling of cold in her toes while riding through the February snow. She closed her eyes and imagined the cold creeping up the side of the tumbler, taking each droplet of water in it's icy grasp.
" Freeze." She hissed at the liquid, her eyes flying open.
Nothing had changed since her eyes had last seen the tumbler.
"Ugh! This is impossible," Alyssa grumbled.
"Nothing is impossible, darling, don't be ridiculous. Even nothingness itself is possible, why even by labeling it as nothing we make it something. Rather marvelous, don't you think?" Delia rambled.
"Marvelous, absolutely splendid."
"Sarcasm is hardly the answer to this particular problem, now, let's try again shall we? Remember that the magic is eager to work with you, you have only to speak its language."
"What language is that?" Alyssa asked, trying not to sound bitter.
"Oh I don't mean a language you can find in a book darling, I mean, hmm." Delia paused for a moment, apparently trying to decide what exactly it was that she meant. "I think it's different for everyone dear, but accomplished witches, warlocks and fairies alike agree that true magical success is derived from a place where the user and the magic meet on equal ground. We feel the magic as a living essence, and as such it is something that demands respect. Without the proper communication magic is useless, or worse, dangerous."
Dangerous. That word sent reverberations into Alyssa's memory and she struggled briefly against the harsh words that Sir Patrick had flung at her. When she had regained a semblance of control over her mind, she realized that Delia had continued speaking.
"—now if you're ready, let's try it once more."
"Right." Alyssa said uncertainly.
"Confidence darling, always essential." Alyssa nodded to show that she had heard and straitened the rough fabric of the minty green dress she wore. Like most of her riding clothes, the material was of the homespun cloth that the poor often donned, but dyed with the one of the fun colors that the palace seamstress insisted on experimenting with. She shook her glossy brown curls back over her shoulder so that her glare at the water wouldn't be intercepted by annoying strands of hair.
Then, taking a last calming breath, she turned her thoughts inward. She searched and searched inside of her mind, maybe even her very soul for the place where she and the magic might connect. Where exactly did she end and the magic begin? She wasn't sure, and suddenly her search wasn't calm and methodical but full of panic and fear. What was she? Who was she? She wasn't sure anymore and the image of Sir Patrick's gloating face laughed at her confusion. And then he was screaming as she blindly clutched at him on the floor of her Father's study, George's eyes flashed with disappointment and anger, and then the world was shaking.
Or rather, Alyssa thought blearily, I'm the one being shaken and the world is still.
"Lyssa? Alyssa dear have some water, there. Swallow, yes. Can you hear me? Darling I'm afraid you fainted but it's quite alright. We're still in our special clearing in the woods you're safe. You're safe." Delia murmured to her. Alyssa sipped the water she was offered gingerly and tried to still her trembling limbs. Delia was stroking her hair back, away from her face and the steady motion calmed Alyssa.
"I see them, all the time in my dreams, but never, never like—" Alyssa tried to finish explaining but realized she wasn't making any sense, that all of it was alive only in her own head. And that thought was so scary that her body set to shivering all over again.
Delia set the flask of water on the forest floor by the side of the little pool whose contents were so still as to form a passable mirror. The fairy flicked her wrist at the ferns settled at the pool's edge and they wove together in mid air to settle over Alyssa's prostrate form. With another wave of her fingers there was a brief light green glow and the woven fern stems solidified to become a cozy knitted blanket of the warmest wool.
Alyssa was too distracted to be overly impressed by this blatant display of power and only hugged the green softness to her chin. When she had stopped her trembling, Delia helped her to lean back against a tree. Alyssa suspected that it wouldn't be half so comfortable without the assistance of Delia.
"Now that that's sorted, would you care to talk about it?" Delia asked. Alyssa tilted her head to one side and considered. It had been nearly three weeks since Alyssa had ventured down into the dungeons. As a Crown Princess, there was no one to trust with such horrible news, or such radical emotions. Her parents might fear for her happiness and sanity, but ultimately be ruled by what was best for Rechad. They had too much responsibility already without bearing the burden of their daughter's troubles. Sly was more about action than words. George might have listened and offered quiet, sage advice had she given him the chance. But instead she had yelled at him.
So, fighting back the tears that threatened to overwhelm her small form, she told Delia everything. Starting with the disconcerting revelations in the Duke's feeling, to the over powering evil she had felt from Sir Patrick, to her unconscious reaction, to the sound of his screams that still haunted her sleeping and waking hours. When she had finally finished relating their fight in the dungeons she was shaking again.
"Why am I so weak?" Alyssa practically shouted at her body, trying to force her arms and legs to still their instinctive panic. "I can't do anything like a normal person," she whispered.
Delia regarded her in silence for a long minute. "Alyssa, dear, you're not a normal person. You are the strongest person I know, and your power is not only that which we gave you on the day of your birth. If anything, that is a tiny fraction of your strength. Your true strength, the essence of it is your soul my dear, that which no magic can shape." Delia gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "Take some time each evening to write, reflect on your day. Consider questions about yourself that have scared you. Why are they scary? Together we can find the answers, alright? You are by no means alone darling." Delia said kindly and Alyssa's vision blurred with tears at the old fairy's sweetness. "Hush now, tears are never the answer." Delia rebuked softly.
This elicited a little laugh from the Crown Princess, and the two women rose to their feet to return to the palace.
"Delia?" Alyssa asked suddenly on their slow walk back to the castle.
"Yes, dear?"
"When you were assisting me in the forest, why did I not sense your emotion?"
"Ah, I was wondering if you mightn't ask me that. It is because as a fairy I have far more control over the boundaries of my mind than others. It takes little effort to block the intrusions of your untamed power. Your magic is like foal, Alyssa, its wildly curious, capable and without a purpose. Without your intention or knowledge it wanders off, you understand?"
"Hmm." Alyssa thought about that. She thought she did understand. She understood that sometimes her perceptions were stronger than others, that with people she cared for the magic almost felt bored. "Do you think," she began slowly, "that my magic is defensive? I mean to say that aside from wandering at will, when I feel threatened it feels stronger."
"That would make a great deal of sense." Delia agreed, "You've given me an idea for how we can practice your power. We'll work with your mind to hone your control. It's less about objects like with other magic; your power derives from compassion and as such is highly related to people. Tomorrow we'll begin new exercises, meet me in our clearing once more in early morning."
Alyssa nodded, and as the two women passed through the gates to the palace the moved in opposite directions: Alyssa to her chambers, and Delia to where ever fairies went in their free time. Likely to save the world, Alyssa thought to herself, only half joking.
AUTHOR's NOTE:
Hey guys! Sorry I've been so lazy, I don't even have a good excuse. Forgive me, I beg you. I know not a whole lot happens in this chapter, but I needed to accomplish rather a lot of explaining in terms of magical power.