Chapter 2 - Prophetic Night

When I finally wake up, it is still dark but I can hear the first of the morning birds begin to sing so I know that dawn is only a few hours away if not sooner. I struggled to fall asleep the night before having all these thoughts in my head about what was to happen next. Marrus mentioned that I would begin my training today but what kind? I get up and wash my face with the water from the large basin I fill up every day for that purpose. It feels cool to the touch and for a single moment, makes me feel like everything is still the same. Nothing has changed until I see the mark on my hand again. The Compass Rose symbol of a lotus flower was staring back at me. Its blue color was slightly more pronounced now and the snake that wrapped itself around the flower looks like it might jump out and bite me. I quickly put my arm to my side thinking if I don’t look at it, it might just go away. 

“Do your normal routine.” I tell myself. It is the only thing that’ll keep me from going crazy until I have no other choice but to accept it once training starts. I heat up my wood stove and begin cooking a simple porridge. I add candied chestnuts and a giant spoonful of blueberry preserves on top at the end. I sit at the kitchen table that is still set for four and get lost in my memories of when my family used to enjoy a similar simple breakfast on cold winter days. We wouldn’t have blueberries or chestnuts but my mother would slice a nice winter melon for all of us to share. Then she would also make a nice salad from fennel, endive and cardoon drizzled with her own secret recipe of herbs and spices she would find in the woods. I’ve never been able to recreate that dressing but sometimes I am reminded of it when I pass by in market. I have yet to discover what smell triggers this memory but I’m sure my mother had used it. 

The porridge is warm and the blueberry preserve is subtly sweet. A bit of mint and cardamom really brings out the flavors of the berries. Besides the few birds awake, the only noise are the thoughts racing through my head. I try to lie back down in bed to relax but soon find myself dozing off.

BANG BANG.

I jump up in bed realizing that the sun was coming through the windows.
“It’s time to wake up Claret!” I hear a tiny voice outside my door. I know it has to be Tryst. I wipe away the weariness from my eyes and rush to the door to open it.

“Must you be so loud Tryst?” I ask still sounding a bit groggy.

“Sorry but Wallon and that old man want you to meet them by the lake. The old man also said to wear something comfortable.” Tryst says with a smile. I look down at what I am wearing. My normal blouse and long skirt seems comfortable enough…I only have two other pieces of clothing and I am not going to train in my worship dress. It would get too dirty, I’m sure. 

“So what’s going on? You promised you would tell me yesterday and you never came to play.” Tryst says walking next to me down the road. 

I tussle his hair. “I’m sorry. We had a long chat and it started getting really late.” I say.

“About?” He asks.

“I’m still trying to figure that out myself.” I stop and bend over to meet him eye level. “But I promise, you’ll be the first to know when I figure it out.”

“Promise?”

I smile and give him a kiss on the forehead. “Of course. Now go on, I can walk by myself now. I’m sure you have friends waiting for you.” He smiles and runs off. I wait until he is out of view before I wipe the smile off of my face. I am definitely not in a smiling mood and were it not for Tryst, I would have probably cried instantly when he woke me up this morning.

The walk down to the lake has never been daunting until now. I make my way there and notice the two men standing at the edge of the lake looking towards it while Wallon looks like he is explaining the features of the area.

“Plenty of chestnuts grow right over there…they are wonderful in salad.” Wallon explains. Marrus hears me come up and turns around. Wallon realizes too. “Oh Claret, you’re here. Did you sleep well?” I remain silent. “I’m sure none of us got much sleep after yesterday’s news.”

“I slept like a newborn.” Marrus smirks. I shoot him a look but Wallon quickly intercepts it as he grabs me by the wrist. 

“You will not give him any grief, do you understand Claret?” He says sounding like a teacher scolding his student. I shoot him the same look. “Claret?” He says sternly.

“Fine. I won’t…but all of this is one giant trick to fool you and to fool everyone.” I say through gritted teeth. Wallon lets go of my wrist and brushes his tunic from any wrinkles he might have just caused from his sudden need to scold me. “I have a meeting to attend to so I will be leaving you here with Marrus.”

“But…” I begin.

“If either of you need me, I’ll be at town hall.” Wallon says as he gives a small bow towards Marrus who acknowledges it with a tiny tip of his head.

The light is gentle this morning and Marrus, somehow, looks a lot less daunting and intimidating as he did standing in my little cabin. He didn’t have the robe or the armor he had on last night but wore a simple taupe tunic with brown pants. As I drew closer I noticed the tunic had wonderful embroidery all over and I could tell the hours of meticulous work that had to be put into it to make such a fine piece of clothing.
“Lovely isn’t it?” He catches me staring. “It is given to the highest prophets from the king himself. Also this.” He unsheathes his sword. It is a 3 foot steel blade that glimmers in the sun. On it is the same lotus motif that was now tattooed on my arm. The gold and leather handle denotes royalty while the emblems etched on the sword tell us that Marrus is not only a first class prophet, but a fighter as well.

Without thinking I reach over to grab the sword but Marrus quickly removes it from my reach.

“Not yet.” He says. “You haven’t earned the right to hold this. This…” He pulls out from a burlap sack, “is for you to practice with.”

“A wooden sword?” I say, grabbing the flimsy weapon in my hands. It’s rough to the touch and probably will give me a splinter or two if I don’t grab it in the right spot. “It’s half the size of your sword and will break if I hit anything with it.”

Marrus looks at me and laughs. “This sword is perfect for you. It is sturdier than you think. Give it a try.” I swing the sword around, not ready to admit that I have never wielded one before. I slash through the air like the heroes did in the books I read and not hearing Marrus say a thing, I begin to think that I’m not doing half bad. I twirl the sword in my hand – I assume it’s a nifty distraction method – and pretend to slay an imaginary beast in front of me. I slash left and take its arm off. I slash right and down to take off a leg and I slash straight up to stab it in the heart and take off the head.

“What are you trying to kill, a colony of flies?” Marrus finally says. I stop with frustration all over my face because he can’t see the sheer size of the beast I had killed by myself. I put the sword down and realize I have built up a sweat. Being a warrior is tough work, I think.

“It’s obvious you’ve never fought before.” He says bluntly. “You look like a horse trying to dance on a frozen lake.”

My face turns red and I have half the mind to pick up the wooden sword and lunge at him the way I did at the beast. The other half of my mind, though, realized he would probably stop me with one finger. So I try to brush it off although I could feel my face still sizzling from the jab at me. “So…I’m not a trained warrior or anything. What did you expect?”

“That is clear with that display. But we do not have time for excuses. You have to learn fast or risk the kingdom and the world falling apart.”

“What is the danger?” I realize that I don’t have a clue as to what I was supposed to fight. The imaginary beast in front of me could have been nothing more than a warm up to what was about to come.
“We can discuss that after your training.” He says sternly. My head droops down as I stumble a bit to pick my sword up again. “And we’ll need to get you a good pair of pants. Your skirt won’t work. Now pick up the sword and follow as I do.”

The sun made its way across the sky as my training continued. At high noon, I had already been smacked around by the butt of Marrus’ sword at least four times for either missing a block or because he heard me spite him under my breath afterwards. But watching Marrus show me certain techniques was like watching a new stream form from the melted ice caps coming down the mountains. Although there is no path, it still flows so effortlessly. It’s like he is dancing with an invisible partner although I admit, at first I was unsure how these artistic movements would translate into fighting but the welt on the back of my head is proof that I still have not the slightest clue what I’m doing. 

As the sun begins to set behind the trees, Marrus decides I’m allowed to take a break. I take this opportunity to ask him about the imminent danger but he has already moved far from me, grabbing a piece of cloth from the bag strapped to his side and began polishing his sword. Even in the soft afternoon light the sword glimmers with intensity. The steel used must have been the highest quality. Perhaps even magic was used to create it. 

I plop myself by the edge of the lake, fixing my skirt to fall gently around me as I sit. The lake has been calmly watching us all day and only made a noise whenever a duck landed in the water or a frog dove in. Even the bees around the flower beds seemed to fly around with hushed buzzing. It is always an intoxicating view and I find myself getting lost in the serenity. 

“Don’t get too comfortable. We have a lot of work ahead of us.” Marrus says looking down at me as I jerk back from the surprise. 

“What are we working towards anyway? You’re being extremely secretive and I feel like I have the right to now…since I’m supposed to be fighting this anyway.”

Marrus chuckles.

“What’s so funny?” I ask, my forehead furrowed. 

“You’re not expected to fight. That’s what the Warriors of Legend are for. They’ll do all the fighting.”
“Then what’s the point of all of this!” I say jumping up and grabbing the wooden sword. I find myself so angry that I’m swinging the sword indiscriminately in the air.

“So you have a lick of a chance to survive this quest. You have no idea what’s waiting out there in your journey to find the warriors. The bubble of a life you have here in this village is a distraction from what really awaits you out there.”

“Bubble? I have never considered my life here a bubble. I’ve lost my parents in a barbarian raid. My brother disappeared without a trace. I’ve lived and survived on my own for years. I may not be able to swing a sword, Sir, but I will have you know that I am still a capable woman.” I say all of this as I dare inch closer to Marrus that I can feel his breath on my cheek.

“At least you have heart.” He says without skipping a beat and turns away from me. “I will be going back to my quarters. I will be arriving at your home later tonight with your Overlooker, expecting dinner.” 

Who does he think he is! I understand he’s a Prophet of the First Order but is being rude and condescending two criteria for them to be one? How does he expect me to cook him dinner after talking to me like that?
“You can’t take it like that, Claret.” Wallon tells me after I go to find him at town hall fuming. “He’s just being truthful about the dangers out there. No one is going to coddle you or tell you that trying your best is good enough in the wilderness. There is a real danger out there.”

“What danger! He hasn’t even told me what’s going on. I’m supposed to fight and yet I have no idea what I’m going to be fighting.” 

“I’m sure he’ll tell you when the time comes. Tonight just get dinner going and don’t speak unless spoken to. Let Marrus tell us.”

Night falls and dinner arrives along with my guests. A beautiful blue harvest moon shines through the window. It’s a good luck sign for a bright harvest through the summer and the fall. I cook the two of them a nice hearty stew made from rabbit, potatoes and leek. I also bake crusty bread with poppy seeds and a fresh strawberry jam. For dessert I offer Wallon’s favorite candied water chestnuts in a pie with fresh wild rhubarb. 

“Isn’t she a marvelous cook?” Wallon asks patting his belly from having his fill. Marrus sits next to him, his chin resting on clasped hands. A thoughtful look glued on his face with his eyes closed. Wallon and I look at each other wondering what Marrus is thinking as I begin clearing the table. “Is everything okay?” Wallon asks the prophet. A few moments pass.

“I think we’ll have to cut our training short.” Marrus finally says. 

“What do you mean?”

“We’ll have to leave first thing tomorrow…the minute the sun rises over the horizon. Otherwise, I’m afraid Claret will die.”

I drop the plates in shock and immediately realize what I had done and rush to grab the broom to clean the mess up.

Wallon chokes on his wine and cleans the bit that dribbles from his mouth. “What did you say?”

“Claret will die if we don’t leave first thing in the morning. Danger is closer than we thought.”

“In the form of what!!” I say finally. I can’t continue keeping quiet as Wallon suggested. “I’m so tired of this! The last two nights I’ve asked what kind of danger I’m supposed to be stopping but you just keep telling me that you’d let me know. Now I’m going to die unless I leave first thing tomorrow? Shouldn’t I know what is coming after me? If anything?” I am now yelling.

Marrus just smiles and directs me to take a seat. “Fine, if you insist.” He gets up and grabs the rose bound book from beneath his cloak. Flipping to a page near the end, he clears his throat before he begins reading something. It doesn’t sound like a part of the legends…it sounds too profound, too cryptic…it could only be a…

“A prophecy!?” I ask.

“Yes, one of my own, actually.” He goes back to the book. “I’m not sure how I forgot this, On the eve of the harvest moon, the Key must travel towards the sun or succumb to the blade of darkness.”
“What does that mean?” I say looking at Marrus then at Wallon who is obviously just as confused.
“We don’t have much time. It’s obvious that it is a harvest moon tonight. But I will tell you, first, what danger we speak about. Wallon, can I ask of you to leave for this? It is solely a conversation between the Trusted Key and me.” 

“As an Overlooker of Pion, I am enforcing the law and putting my foot down to that request. I am staying.” Wallon says. I’m sure he’s doing that to ensure that I’m all right but at the same time I’m sure he wants to know what is going on. Marrus just stares at Wallon for a second. 

“Fine, if you insist…but don’t let your blood boil over. It won’t be a good look for you.” Marrus sits back down at the table, his face carved out by the candles around the room. I can see crevices in his face probably formed from all the things he has seen in his life. 

“The danger is Pion, specifically the King.” He says calmly.

“TRAITOR!” Wallon jumps up from his seat yelling. He pulls a long white baton from beneath his uniform. With one push on the side, the baton begins to buzz. I step back, not having seen this side of Wallon come out for a long time. The last time he reacted this way was when a Senior Overlooker was visiting and Wallon had to strictly enforce the rules. The man he punished didn’t lower his head to the Senior Overlooker when he was passing by. Wallon took his baton and electrocuted the man until he was shaking violently on the ground. Women had taken the children away from the scene as quickly as they could and the other men in the village gripped their farm tools or anything they had in their hand for the matter, tighter, ready to fight if Wallon dared try to attack them too. But I guess one punishment was enough. The Senior Overlooker smirked and had Wallon lead him away from the square to allow a few villagers to tend to the man on the ground. I remember seeing Wallon take a look back at the convulsing man with an honest sadness in his eyes. When the Senior Overlooker left, Wallon made a public apology to everyone and helped tend to the injured man until he had healed from the unprovoked attack. 

I’m not sure what kind of energy source these batons have but to see a full grown man fall like that and suffer that much pain, makes me nervous about the intensity Wallon would inflict on Marrus knowing he is truly angry this time. Electricity is a rare commodity so I don’t know much about it nor do I really want to know what it feels like to have it surge through your body.

“There is no need to act in such a brutish manner, Wallon. Just put the baton down and we can talk through this.”

Wallon stood his ground, his teeth gritted, holding the baton in his shaking hands at Marrus. The intensity in the room is suffocating and I’m glued to my place. I don’t know what’s going to happen but I can attest both men are capable fighters. Training with Marrus today showed me that he is quite talented but Wallon isn’t a pushover. If it’s true that he was kicked out of the Main for murder, there’s no telling what he might do at this moment.

In the blink of an eye, I see Wallon lunge at Marrus with his baton, scraping Marrus’ maroon cape. Even with his face away from me I can tell that Marrus has a small smirk on his face. He quickly unsheathes his sword and uses it to divert Wallon’s next lunge but with a fancy side step Wallon manages to avoid Marrus’ sword and deliver a quick blow into his back causing Marrus to back up in pain.

“Not bad.” Marrus says laughing a bit. “And I thought we would be good friends.” He whips off his maroon cape onto the floor and cracks his knuckles before grabbing his sword again. “Claret…you might want to get to a corner.”

“But…” I try to say.

“Now, Claret!” Wallon also says. I run and jump onto my bed pulling my blanket up to my chin thinking the thin fabric just might protect me from the mayhem happening before me. Shadows are projected onto the wall from the flickering candles as the two men fight in my small cabin. Dishes crash all around them as they knock in the table. The unfinished food drops to the floor and the candles are extinguished with one of the swipes of Marrus’ blade. Engulfed in the darkness, the two men continue to struggle with each other with only the light from the harvest moon to assist them. 

“Did it really have to come to this?” Marrus says. I squint my eyes to see him reach into his pocket. Wallon stands to the ready. A small glowing orb rests in Marrus’ hand. The bright white light starts off dimly but the light slowly continues to build its intensity.

“What the…” I catch myself saying.

“You don’t dare.” Wallon provokes. It’s obvious he knows what this object is. It is probably something familiar in Pion but outside those ivory walls the rest of the kingdom is oblivious to its power. I get to experience it firsthand.

Marrus tosses it quickly at Wallon. Rays of light immediately wrap around him as he emits a high pitched shriek of pain. Within seconds Wallon’s body is nothing more than a bright light struggling uselessly on the floor. I can’t help but scream and Marrus immediately runs over to me and shuts my mouth with his hand. My mind begins to race. Is he going to do that to me too? No, he can’t…I didn’t fight him. But at the moment I’m not completely sure. I’m not positive what comes over me but I bite his fingers as hard as I can to escape his grip. It gives me just enough time to run out of my cabin followed by the sound of him screaming for me to stop.

Tears cascade down my face blurring my sight already distorted by the darkness. I want to wipe them away but I’m afraid that if I divert my focus even for a second from running, Marrus will catch up to me and hurt me, if not kill me. I really want to look back to see if he is getting close, if he is even chasing me at all. Running through the small patch of woods near my cabin, I realize there is only the sound of crunching leaves beneath my feet. I crane my head around slightly and notice that I am running away from nothing. Marrus isn’t behind me and probably stayed at the cabin to finish Wallon off. I should run back and help him…he’s my friend. But I don’t stand a chance. I would die instantly. If that is what Marrus wants.

I make my way back close to the cabin and peek from behind a small herb shed my dad had built when I was younger. It was empty these days and houses spiders and a family of foxes that got through the missing chunk of the rotting wooden door. I try to refocus my eyes towards my cabin but all is silent and dark.
“Are you looking for something?” 

I turn around and instantly land a kick into someone’s stomach causing him to take a few steps back clutching the area I had hit and laughing slightly. It is Marrus.

“So you do have some fighting instinct in you.” 

“What did you do to Wallon!” I try to sound tough but secretly hiding my absolute fear. 

“Don’t worry about him. It is you we have to worry about.” He says extending his hand to me. I quickly retreat afraid he might do something to hurt me next.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“We have to get you out of here. Wallon will be fine but Overlookers from the Main will be here by the morning and if you’re still here, surely you will die.” 

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean.” I say sincerely confused. Marrus huffs and folds his arms.
“Must I explain everything to you word for word? You might have some fighting instincts, but I have yet to see if you have a brain.” I can feel myself getting angry. Marrus doesn’t notice and continues to talk. “We’ve attacked an Overlooker of the Main.”

“We’ve?!” I can’t hold myself back.

Marrus looks at me stoically. “They will find out soon enough. If your relationship with Wallon is as close as you’re making it seem, then he probably won’t reveal your identity but they’ll know a Prophet was the one who attacked him. And there aren’t that many of us left that are capable of doing what I had just done. So if you stick around, there’s a very good chance you’ll be taking the brunt of the attack. I’m not sure about you, but I’m not staying. There are warriors we need to find and standing in this tiny village, as lovely as it may be, won’t help us in our search.”

I stand there quietly taking it all in. I catch myself staring at the dark patch of earth by the shed and realize that it’s the only spot where grass wasn’t growing. Staring at the patch I couldn’t help but wonder why that was but I quickly shook it off to seriously think about what Marrus just told me.
“So?” He says.

“I’m going to need more explanation but I’ll go with you. Just promise me that Wallon, Tryst and everyone else in the village will be fine if I leave.”

“I can’t promise you that.” Marrus says bluntly.

“But…”

“Claret! We have to go.” And he begins to run ahead of me. The tears start to overflow from my eyes again as and I follow behind him. I look back at my cabin knowing that I am probably leaving something important. I am probably leaving something behind that would remind me of my family and of my life here in my tiny village.

“Will I ever return?” I scream out ahead at Marrus who is at least four paces ahead of me at all times.
He looks back but says nothing and continues to run. I don’t accept this. I yell louder.

“Will I ever return?” I scream again.

Again, he doesn’t say anything but just looks back. I’m hysterically crying as I plant my feet in the ground. I yell one more time, at the top of my lungs, to finally get an answer from him.

“Tell me! Will I ever return?!” 

He stops abruptly and turns to me. “Not unless you succeed.”

Not unless I succeed. A few days ago all I wanted to do was sell flowers and water chestnuts at market. Making enough money to buy an extra pastry for dessert was succeeding for me. Making the customers at my stall laugh and happy was succeeding to me. Now I have to succeed against an evil from Pion and find the Warriors of Legend. No big deal. I’ll probably end up dying first though.

“Now hurry up! We need to be as far away from your village before the sun rises.” He yells at me from atop a large rock he has climbed to survey the land. This is probably the furthest I’ve ever been outside my village and the terrain looks so different and alien to me. I’ve read about the outside world in books so I have a vague idea of what I should expect but even this outcropping of large rocks and low lying grass has me wondering what else is waiting for me out there. Will the beasts I’ve read about really be as vicious as they’re written? Will I get to see these extravagant cities I’ve only ever imagined seeing? Perhaps even, Goddess forbid, will I run into the same barbarian tribe that killed my parents? I have no idea what’s waiting for me but as I see Marrus looking at me impatiently I realize that we are in a race, I guess, to fend off evil. But I’m still unclear what that evil is. I quickly remind myself that I’m going to demand an explanation from Marrus.

Once I catch my breath, of course.

Chapter 1 - Compass Rose

White Lilies blossom midst spring rain

Through harsh winters they’ll bloom once again

By the waters where spritely faeries dance

‘Neath summer’s moon, a mild romance

White Lilies slumber come autumn’s chill

Their soft snowy petals, a lover’s will

A lover’s letter and a lover’s song

White Lilies keep them still and holding on

A faerie’s wish, the grass’ whistling tune

Brings a youthful glow to the summer’s moon

Youthful glow to your eyes, it too, brings

Through all my summers, my winters, my autumns and my springs

I spend the early mornings down by the lake gathering mountain lilies and water chestnuts for market. A few butterflies dance near me as I walk past them. The water glistens from the reflection of the morning sun and ripples form from the frogs and turtles hiding just below the surface. It is late spring and the water chestnuts are sprouting tall from beneath the water. My brother used to tell me that these were the heads of tiny faeries who would grant you one wish whenever you plucked them out. Being a small little girl, I would wish really hard on them every time I pulled one. They were silly wishes like hoping for blackberry pie at dinner. I would tell this to my brother and I always seemed so shocked that my wish would come true. I didn’t think at that time that he would just suggest this to my mom. She loved baking pie anyway. This spring, I would have a thousand of those wishes if I so choose to, since the water chestnuts were plentiful, or if I believed in wishes any more. 

My brother disappeared four winters back. There has never been an explanation for his disappearance. He went out to hunt one day and never came back. I overheard some of the villagers say that he was probably killed by wolves but my brother was a better hunter than that to let that happen. I didn’t believe them. I didn’t want to believe them. So for the first few springs I would run down to the lake and pluck out the water chestnuts and wish hard for him to return. After piles of the slender stalks and a trail of tears running down my pale face, I knew that the faeries had heard nothing. Then I began to believe they didn’t exist in the first place – that they were nothing but stories. Now I just gather them because they sell well at market. The lake was on my family’s plot and water chestnuts only seemed to grow there throughout my village. The women would come on Sundays to market to buy them for cakes, breads and preserves. An elderly woman named Riza always bought the biggest ones I had for her medicine. 

“These things will cure anything if you mix them with the right plants.” She would always tell me. I would only smile and give her a small nod. It is impolite not to nod down a bit to those older than you. It is a sign of respect and usually it came with the back of their hand placed on your forehead. 

I also sell my flowers at the market. When I was younger my mother taught me how to turn them into wreaths and how to weave them into a girl’s hair when you braided it. Mothers bring their daughters to me before worship and have me braid their hairs with the fresh White Mountain lilies I had gathered. They smell of crisp snow and blossom only in the right weather and once again that seemed to be by the lake on my family’s plot. Most of the girls in the village don beautiful white dresses for worship, which is customary, so they feel even more beautiful after I finish their braids. My mother used to put lilies in my hair but she, along with my father, died when I was young in a brutal manner.

My village is a generally serene place in the plains between a vast mountain range to the west and the ocean, a five days travel, to the east. Unless you had specific business in my village, it was easily passed by and although it isn’t a poor place by any means, there is no gold or riches to be had. But when I was only a young girl, a small band of red haired barbarians came from the north and attacked our village killing all the men and anyone who stood in their way. I am always adamant to state that they were red headed because of all the roaming tribes, I’ve never heard of one where all its warriors had hair of a flaming hue. I was targeted to be taken as a slave but my mother had hid me away in the forest. The barbarians tortured her to tell them my whereabouts but she wouldn’t budge. She died with a strike of an ax while she was on her knees begging for my safety. I was looking down from above in a tall tree, holding back tears. My brother survived that ordeal too. He had run far into forest for safety. We didn’t reunite for nearly a week. During that time I had buried both of my parents and helped the women and children of the town recover. The men that did survive rebuilt the village. None of us had ever experienced such an onslaught. No one was prepared. Few, if any, were even trained, let alone skilled, to fight back. It was an absolute massacre. 

For months the only discussion anyone had was about those barbarians.

My village was also a center for education in our area. Students and scholars from around the country came to study at our small but highly regarded institution of higher thought. Young children were taught in the school next door. We were taught all about worship, the legends and the history of our land. During these history lessons we were taught about the roaming tribes. There was never a mention of a red haired tribe…perhaps it was just a part of history we had missed in our books.

Those who were blessed enough to earn a spot at the institution began to learn sciences and math. My brother was one of those people. He would bring books back home and I would quietly read one while he was out hunting or doing other errands for the house. He was my sole caretaker and I looked up to him very much. I learned a lot from the books he left open on the big wooden table that was still set for four. Electricity – which was rare to come by in our village and only the richest few had it, fascinated me. Also I learned all about machinery and medicine and even found a recipe that the old woman Riza spoke about using water chestnuts – it was to remove back hair though…not my first priority. 

These books made the world open to me and I was thankful that I poured myself into them when I could because not a year after that barbarian raid, Overlookers were sent from Pion, the Main City of the land, to protect us further from the unprecedented amount of barbarian raids. The Overlookers were meant to guard the cities and villages and warn Pion to send soldiers to protect us. It became clear short after their arrival that they were here for more than just that. It began with the small things. The Overlookers would begin to dictate what could be sold at market and at what price. Then they began to dictate how the city operated. They took away the books, shut down the schools and reorganized them to meet the standards from Pion. Some even took over as mayors of the cities or clergymen who denounced the very religion the village or city had worshipped only to establish the religion of Pion – Atheism. Let me correct myself, in Pion there is a higher power, just not the ones we were accustomed to. The King of Pion is revered as a God and is worshipped by all his people. He is also said to be immortal, living behind a white horned mask made of ivory and living within his ivory tower only to be heard through advisors. Most believe he has lived since light first touched our world but I’m sure they just replace him with another king after the old one passes away. There is no such thing as immortality.

Religion had always been something that connected villages, people and classes. The kingdom, until the Overlookers were sent out, practiced hundreds of religions – some endemic to a certain village. Initially everyone believed in one religion of warriors and heroes. Then as people branched out throughout the kingdom, so did religion. Most believed in a single God or Goddess while others, usually in the wilderness of the Northern Woods, worshipped multiple entities and even animals. 

My village worshipped one Goddess who brought the harvest to us and made the crystal clear waters flow throughout the town. We honor her with a marble fountain in the middle of the square and go to worship donned all in white, a symbol of her purity. Once a year at the end of the harvest season, the entire village celebrates with a huge feast in her favor. Having that connection to a higher power brought all the people in my village closer together. We had a purpose, a reason and an explanation for our gifts and our grief. It balanced us out and it gave us faith. Having the freedom of religion gave us hope.

But Pion eliminated that in most places, especially those shadowed by its massive white marbled wall. I would have thought that these villages would have crumbled without what religion gave us. But our Overlooker told us that the reverse was actually the truth. The villagers were elated and happier than ever before to be able to worship a living God, rather than an entity that may or may not even exist. I still wonder if that’s the case but that is the mystery of The Main. 

Pion, formally known as Pionnesis the Glorious City of the Kingdom, being the largest city and the center of the king’s realm is known as the Main City throughout the land. These days people just call it Pion or “The Main.” Here’s a thing about Pion…it’s completely shrouded in mystery. No one ever leaves Pion unless instructed by the King and those who are invited within its colossal white marbled walls are usually never seen again. The Overlookers explains that people never want to leave Pion when they visit it. They say it is so self sufficient that it is possible to shut out the rest of the world and never have to step out of its white marble gates. Every time an Overlooker mentions this or talks about the king, they tend to become overwhelmed and begin to cry because they can’t be near him. It is so strange, I think. 

My village is so small that they sent only one Overlooker to us. The Overlooker in my village is a bit different though. Although he dictated a few things as would any Overlooker, he is also a bit kinder. He loves the market on the weekends and even buys my water chestnuts from time to time.

“I like them in my salads.” He would tell me and wink as he dropped an extra bronze piece on my counter. He let the mayor of the town keep his position and he let us continue to worship as we had for as long as the village stood. He closed down the schools though and brought teachers from Pion to teach the young children the required curriculum approved from the main city. And that was as far as education went.
He is a kind looking older man with white hair wisped between the dark brown. But the mothers in the market gossip and once told me that he had killed a man in Pion and was banished to our small, feeble village where he had the least influence possible. This only made me more intrigued to find out more about him.
After my brother disappeared, people from all over the village consoled me during market, which I now frequented every day to make ends meet. The Overlooker surprisingly consoled me as well. He first started paying double for the same chestnuts he bought the week before, sometimes even paying me and “accidentally” forgetting to bring his produce back. He then would pay for the White Lilies for a few of the small girls that would come to me before worship. Finally, he would give me his name and from there we began to talk.

Wallon would tell me how he lived in a small village just a stone throw away from Pion when he was my age. My village reminded him a lot of his childhood and although he didn’t admit he was placed here for one particular reason or another, he appreciated that he got to be here. He wouldn’t say much else about his past though.

“They don’t check up on me too often.” He said. “If I were in any other village, I would have other Overlookers overlooking me!” He laughed as he bit into one of the water chestnuts I brought to him boiled and sliced. I enjoyed his company. He was sort of an uncle to me. Ever since my brother disappeared I lived in my house by myself. Normally a girl my age would not be able to do that but Wallon never told anyone. He told me that he felt that I’ve seen enough in my years and don’t deserve any more unnecessary frivolities.
Now two winters have passed and because I am considered a woman by village standards, I don’t have to worry about living in my house by myself. It’s my house now although I still sometimes smell my mother’s perfume – one she made from the lilies, tea leaves and mint – linger in the air. Also on late stormy nights I still pray that my dad will come home and tuck me in at night telling me that nothing would harm me ever as long as we were together. The emptiness of the house made me feel more alone so I try to avoid coming home until I have no other choice, usually from insistence for sleep. 

So this morning I leave extra early to go to the lake to gather more things for market. The sun is still breaking through on the horizon and a streak of pink, like from a painter’s brush, runs across the sky to push the darkness away. I want to see if the blueberries are ready for picking. Every few springs there would be a good bounty of blueberries by the lake and because it was a particularly warm winter, I am sure that there will be plenty this time around. I noticed they were beginning to ripen a few days ago and remembering what my mother told me, it should be ripe within three days of a meadowlarks call. I’m not entirely sure what that meant but I figure three days is long enough to wait for these blueberries to be picked. 

I am right as I pluck one berry and toss it in my mouth. The dark purple juice spills all over my tongue and I am elated at how delicious it tastes. I pick an entire basket full that I plan to sell at market today. I pick another small basket full for me to snack on while I’m there. I place my mother’s lace handkerchief that she had made when I was younger to protect the berries from the sun while I picked lilies and chestnuts. 

The sun is finally in the sky and the birds begin to fly around the meadow along with the butterflies and the buzzing bees that help make my lilies so beautiful. I decide to sit back by the lake and watch them pollinate the flowers figuring I have a lot of time before market since I left so early this morning. My eyes start glazing over as I can feel myself beginning to enter a state between a daydream and being awake. 

“I’m glad I found you here.” I hear someone say behind me. I shake to clear my head and turn around to see a young boy with sandy blonde hair and brown freckles all over his face. He is one of the small children, probably 8 winters old, sent to run messages from one person to another. The people in the village usually rely on the younger children to do this knowing partly because they would probably be uninterested in the news they need to relay and also they would probably forget about the whole thing the next day once they were preoccupied playing games with the other children. 

“Hi Tryst,” I say. “What are you doing here? You know I’ll be at the market later. Look.” I show him the basket of blueberries I had picked. “Would you like one?”  


He shakes his head.

“Wallon is looking for you. He says it’s urgent.” Tryst says. I can tell the anxious expression on his face is reflective of how Wallon probably looked when telling him to find me.

“What is it? What’s going on?” I say getting up and brushing my skirt from any grass that might have clung onto me.

“He wouldn’t tell me. But he wasn’t alone.” Tryst says.

“Who is with him?” I ask.

“I’m not sure…I’ve never seen this man before. He said for me to tell you to hurry and meet them at your house. They’re waiting.” Tryst says and turns to leave. He turns around again. “And yes, I’d love a blueberry.” He smiles. I toss him one and he runs off plopping the berry in his mouth. 

I pick up my things and begin making my way back to my house. I lose sight of Tryst only moments later as he runs quickly ahead of me probably to continue a game of stick ball he had to leave. 

As I approach my house I notice a group of children standing on their tip toes looking through the window. I notice Tryst there too. I guess he ran back to reclaim his spot in the middle of the group. I come up behind them and tussle one of their hair as I begin to enter my house. They all look at me with interested eyes. “I’ll let you guys know later after worship. Now go on…you don’t want to be late.” They all nod their heads and run off back to the village square. My smile immediately fades as I enter and I see Wallon sitting at my dining table with a worried look on his face. The stranger has his back towards the door but I can tell he is telling Wallon something serious, perhaps even grave.

“Hi, you wanted to see me?” I say, interrupting their conversation. Wallon finally notices me standing there. Surprised he gets up to greet me. The man sitting at the table turns his head around. I first notice his glass blue eyes as he scans me. I feel a cold shiver down my spine but I just brush it off. 

“I’m glad you came. This gentleman was asking for you.” Wallon says. We both sit down at the table and I notice a map of the entire kingdom laid out flat in front of me. I immediately notice Pion, represented by a tall ivory tower, in the northeast, the unknown woodlands of the north, the vast mountain range of the west, the coastal lands of the east and the expansive barren deserts of the south. In the middle are the plains, where I live, but my village is so tiny that it would never even make a blip on a map. I catch myself completely entranced by the map. The workmanship and detail of it is quite beautiful. I’ve seen maps in the books my brother used to bring but nothing as intricate as this one.

“You must be Claret.” The man says. I look at him and nod slightly, expecting for his hand to be placed on my forehead. For a moment, nothing happens. I look up, head still bowed, and see both men looking at me. Wallon is giving me a look as if to disengage and I take his cue and sit straight up in my seat. 

“She was only giving you the sign of respect in the village.” Wallon explains to the man. The man just smiles and continues.

“Claret, do you know what this is?” He says pointing to the beautiful map on the table. 

“A map of the kingdom.” I say. 

“Do you believe it is just an ordinary map?” He asks. I scan his eyes for an answer but he is not willing to tell me. I bite my lip and shake my head. The man gives off a small chuckle.

“Place your hand here.” He says indicating to the Compass Rose in the corner of the map. It is so intricately made with laces of what seems to be gold leaf embossed on it. A symbol of a white lotus flower with a snake intertwined, sits in the middle of the rose. 

“Why?” I ask not usually questioning authority, but something just felt off.

“Claret, do as the man says!” Wallon raises his voice before catching himself and returning to his normal character. The man smiles again.

“Where are my manners? I have been so rude.” The man begins, “I didn’t even introduce myself.” He gets up and it is the first time I see how much of a presence he actually is. Standing taller than Wallon by more than a head, with broad shoulders and a strong face beneath his short white beard, I noticed a long sword tucked away at his side. Even beneath his gray robe and burgundy cape, he is an intimidating figure for sure. I get up to meet him.

“I am Marrus, Prophet of the First Order.” He says. Prophets are integral parts of many places throughout the Kingdom. Many people still rely on them to foresee the outcomes of battles, the size of the harvest or even something as simple as tomorrow’s weather. I know there aren’t many Prophets left that haven’t been brought to Pion, so to be of the First Order, Marrus must be truly gifted. 

Marrus bows his head. I just stare and become confused that after a minute he does not get up. Wallon is equally as confused as we give each other a look. Marrus lifts his head. “Isn’t this how you show respect in your village?” Yes it is, I think to myself, but it is unheard of for the reverse to happen. I can’t help but chuckle a little but stop when I catch Wallon shoot me a glare.

“I’m sorry.” I say, apologizing for my laughter. “It’s just rather odd to see someone older than myself bowing their heads before me.” 

Marrus smiles. “Claret, the name doesn’t really suit you does it?” I nod and we all sit down.

You see Claret refers to a deep red wine drink mulled with cinnamon, cloves and other spices most of the people in the villages in the plains drink during cold winters. When I was born I did in fact have beautiful auburn locks that fell gently down my fair skin. My mother told me though that by the time I was two winters old my auburn locks began to lighten and turn golden blonde. By the time I was old enough for school, I was constantly told I had the most brilliant shade of blonde hair anyone in the village had ever seen. I loved my name though. My mother had beautiful red hair and my name connected me to her as her daughter. 

“Have you ever heard of the Trusted Key?”  Marrus asks. I see Wallon’s eyes open wide. I think for a minute trying to remember where I’ve heard that term before. It sounds so familiar and it’s on the tip of my tongue but I can’t grasp at it so I shake my head no. 

“You know, the Trusted Key of the Warriors from the Legends?” He asks. Instantly I remember now. “Ah, so you do know.” I’m sure he can tell the expression on my face has changed. 

“And what about this Trusted Key?” I ask. Marrus looks at Wallon with a smile.

“You don’t think,” Wallon starts, “that Claret?” He looks at me. “You think Claret is the Trusted Key?”

 “I don’t simply think she is. It is an absolute truth.” Marrus says. 

I immediately stand up in my seat as an audible gasp escapes my lips. I cover my mouth in a failed attempt. It’s as if all the wind in my stomach was sucked out by a vacuum and the words I want to shout out cannot be found. I want to say that there is no way that I could be who he thinks I am. I want to say that Marrus must have gotten the wrong person. I’m an eighteen year old girl who sells flowers and water chestnuts at market. I’m an eighteen year old girl who likes to spend long summer days down by the lake with friends. I’m an eighteen year old girl who doesn’t even believe in the Legends he’s talking about…now I’m part of the Legends?

“What are you talking about?” I finally say. I’m becoming agitated at the thought and seeing Marrus just smile makes me want to reach over and snatch it off of his face. And this is saying much since I’m usually a very passive person.

“You are the Trusted Key of the Legends and we’re going to prove it. Just place your hand over the rose on the map. If you are in fact the Key, we will know immediately. If you’re not and I am mistaken, I will leave right away.” Marrus says. He clears his throat. “Not only will I leave right away but I will denounce my title as a Prophet of the First Order.” 

Wallon gets out of his seat and begins to pace back and forth rubbing his forehead with one hand. He looks at us as if to say something but quickly decides not to and continues his pacing. 

“Now I know this is a bit overwhelming, I understand.”  Marrus says.

“But…” Wallon begins, “Hasn’t everyone given up on the idea of the Trusted Key? I know Pion denounces the existence of one in the first place.” 

“Just because Pion denounces it doesn’t mean it isn’t true.” Marrus says. Suddenly Wallon slams his fists on the table, shaking me from where I am sitting.

“Do not speak ill of Pion.” Wallon’s face turns red.

It is one of the rare occasions I see Wallon defend Pion. With his mysterious background, he is more apt to bash The Main but when it came to certain, seemingly random things like this, he doesn’t tolerate it. 

“I did not mean to insult you or The Main in anyway but I assure you the Trusted Key does exist.” Marrus reaches into his robe and pulls out a dusty rose colored bound book. It is tied with a gold silk strand that binds the delicate yellowing pages in between. He flips through the pages until he’s satisfied he has the right one. He clears his throat and begins to explain a passage.

“The Trusted Key was created by the Warriors of Legend as the connection between them and the world they created. This person is said to possess the ability to call forth the warriors when the world comes under imminent danger…”

“Danger?” I interrupt. Marrus stares at me, his blue eyes piercing, for a second then goes back to his book.
“Yes…danger. The Trusted Key is said to possess a few characteristics that make them standout from everyone else.” He flips the page, licking his fingers to do it. “Hair gold like wheat…” He looks up at me and smiles. “Skin as soft and white as porcelain, eyes as blue as the azure waves…”

“It looks green in certain light.” I say under my breath. Marrus raises his eyebrow but continues to read. “A voice of an angel and a heart that is desired by everyone.” 

“It couldn’t possibly be me!” I yell.

“Marrus, it couldn’t. With the way she’s been acting the last hour, I can’t imagine her heart being so desired.” Wallon says trying to reprimand me for my poor behavior. I can’t help that I’m being forced to believe that I am this…this…thing that is meant to help save the world from some destructive force. My mind is racing as I dart my focus back and forth between Marrus and Wallon arguing the validity of Marrus’ claim.
“Look.” Marrus says slamming his book shut. “We can settle this issue quite easily. The girl just needs to place her hand on the rose and if she is, then we go from there. If she isn’t, then my entire life as a Prophet is over. Shall we find out?” He looks at me and directs me to the map on the table. My body begins to shake. What if he is right? My life as I know it will come to a complete stop. I’m pretty sure I won’t be going out during nice summer days just to lie in the sun and eat berries by the lake any more. I’m pretty sure I won’t be seeing market days much either. But what if I’m not? I began to think about my family. Being the Trusted Key was said to be the highest honor anyone could ask for. I’m sure if my family was still alive they would have been extremely proud to possibly have a daughter who was the Trusted Key. If I find out I’m not, I might actually be sad. Sad to have lost the possibility of making my family proud and making my village proud. To do something greater than is requested of us. 

I shake my head trying to clear my thoughts as I approach the map, my hand stretched out. As I draw closer, my hand begins to feel a slight tingle. Is it a wave of energy or am I just making myself believe that something is actually happening? Am I starting to want this to be true?

“Go on, it won’t bite.” Marrus says. I look up at both of them as a bead of sweat rolls down my forehead and over my nose. “Just do it.” I think to myself. I close my eyes and place my hand quickly on the rose expecting a giant explosion to overwhelm us and destroy everything in my home. I hold my breath and shut my eyes tighter. Nothing. No big explosion, no fancy light, no spectacle at all was happening. I open my eyes and an unexpected rush of emotion begins to overwhelm me. I don’t know why my eyes are welling up with tears but I lift up my hand to my face to try and keep it from falling, as not to embarrass myself in front of the other two.

That’s when I see it. I look at my wrist and notice a mark that definitely was not there moments before.
“I have yet to be wrong.” Marrus says beginning to put the map away.

“What is it?” Wallon asks. “I didn’t see anything happen.”

I shoot my arm out and show them my wrist. The same rose on the map was now imprinted on my arm in a light blue. Wallon’s eyes grow large as he snatches my wrist to examine the mark. “Blessed be to Pion…I never thought…”

“Training begins tomorrow.” Marrus says having already gathered his things and ready to leave. “Well aren’t you coming Wallon? I’m sure Claret is exhausted from all of this excitement. She will definitely need her rest. Please lead me to my sleeping quarters. I will be in this village for a while.” He says waving Wallon to follow.

“Oh yes of course.” Wallon comes close to me enough to whisper. “Don’t worry too much about this right now…just go to bed and we’ll figure it all out tomorrow.” I nod, not because I agree but because it was the only thing I could do to keep from crying. I am the Trusted Key. I’m supposed to stop the world from being destroyed. Sleep is definitely not going to come easy tonight.

And I am right.