It was an awful night. The storm that ripped across the kingdom of Nordes shook houses from their foundations, and made many of the older inhabitants predict that the world was close to it's final days.
Lightning ripped across the sky, and thunder followed it, light and deafening sound mixing together with the rain to create the most destructive and dangerous storm that had occurred in memory.
It was a horrid night to be out in the forest with no cover. The rain was coming down in torrents, violently striking the canopy of trees with no sign of stopping.
A young woman was taking cover underneath a large redwood, hugging the bark like it was the last thing keeping her alive. Water was pooling on the ground, and running in rivers across the forest floor, bringing mud and leaves and debris with it.
The woman was from obvious wealth and class. Her dress was fine velvet and silk, in rich hues of purple and blue, trimmed with gold. Even covered with mud and soaked from the rain that pounded all around her, it was clear to see it was of great expense.
The woman was sobbing. It was hard to tell from a first glance, because her face was already soaked from the storm and the pounding drops of rain combined with the thunder that echoed across the sky drowned out her cries.
But her body shook, and her eyes were shut tight against the rest of the world, blocking out the storm, the forest, everything around her that made her remember.
The long hours of the night passed, and the rain grew heavier and heavier around her. She still hung onto the tree for everything she was worth and cried. She hung on with every inch of life she had, and when she stopped wailing and crying out to the night, she prayed, her lips moving silently and ceaselessly.
In this manner she weathered out the worst storm in remembered history. The thunder and lightning stopped first, leaving only the sound of the rain and shifting canopy of trees behind.
And then, as the night began to end, the rain lessened into a drizzle. The clouds dispersing enough that behind them, the dawn was almost tangible.
The woman clung to the tree even still, soaked to the bone and covered with mud.
Finally, after a single, last effort to continue, the rain finally stopped.
The clouds remained over the horizon as the day truly began, and the world lightened just a little.
The woman finally collapsed into the mud, unable to hold on any longer to the waking world. Sleep and exhaustion overpowered her, and her body simply gave up. Her small body made no splash as it fell into the mud.
"There she is!" a male voice called from somewhere in the trees.
"Thank the gods we found her," another voice, this one female, said.
Two figures emerged from the trees, wearing green tunics and breeches, the man with silver trim, the woman with gold.
The man had skin the color of the redwood trees, around them, brown with a hint of red and olive in it. His hair was shock red, his eyes the vibrant green of new leaves.
The woman had skin of a twilight grey, and dark purple hair that fell around her shoulders, and was bound back from her face with white ribbons. Her eyes were purple, matching her hair.
Both carried bows and quivers with them and had the deadly and graceful look of warriors, and moved as if they were dancing.
The two were extremely different, but with a closer look, one could tell they shared similar features - almond shaped eyes and lovely, pointed faces. They also shared their strangely shaped ears, with a distinct point at the top.
The two strange figures knelt next to the woman.
"Is she still alive?" the man asked. The female figure nodded.
"Barely, but she'll make it," she said. "She is not yet beyond my skill to save."
The man nodded.
"Then we are not yet lost," he murmured. He lifted the woman laying in the mud effortlessly and held her limp body in his arms.
"She's light for a human," he grumbled.
"She was tortured into submission to that tyrant king," the woman admonished. "The woman is lucky to be alive, the poor dear," she added, brushing a lock of hair out of the woman's face.
"Yeah, that's Ilene of Merridor, lucky," he said hollowly, beginning to move away.
The woman followed him, and they moved with speed and grace through the forest with the ease of familiarity.
Within moments, they were gone.
The cloud-covered sky looked down on the trees, watching the man and woman carry Ilene of Merridor to safety, far from her home.
Far away, the Keeper of Stories slammed the book she was writing in shut. Tears shone in her eyes, in which one could see the stars and worlds of the universe, floating suspended in her black eyes.
The Keeper allowed a single tear to fall down her cheek as she watched the sphere through which she saw the events of the universe, and recorded them for the ages.
Ilene had come to the Keeper once before, seeking guidance from her history. She had desperately yearned to know how her family had been overthrown and destroyed, all save herself. The one member of her family let alive, she was smuggled out of the capitol by a good friend of her mother when she was one year old.
When she was twelve, she was found by the tyrant who had wiped out the rest of her family. That was when Ilene learned of her royal blood.
By a miracle of fate, she escaped him a second time, and found the Keeper. She stayed in the Keepers stronghold for two years, studying her families history and learning all she could of her enemy.
The keeper taught Ilene to use weapons as well. She hated to see those dainty hands roughened by mastery of the sword, and those delicate arms muscled by working a bow. But the Keeper had a feeling that Ilene would have a bigger role in this story to play yet. And so when she judged the girl ready, she urged her to return to the world and challenge the tyrant king Jamison for the throne that was rightfully hers.
The Keeper had followed her since then. She had been caught by Jamison's soldiers after a year on her own, and Jamison tortured her until she had sworn fealty to him.
Ilene had broken free of his control only two mornings before, and had run as far as her legs would take her before collapsing onto the tree, where she had sat, sobbing, and hugging the tree, all through the storm.
The Keeper signed and turned away from her sphere.
She was crying not because of her friends exile, not because she was forced to seek shelter in a land far from her own in order to live.
She cried because so much rested on Ilene's frail shoulders. So much depended on her, and the Keeper, who had something of the gift of Seeing, knew that it would be a long and difficult road for her. And she cried because the end of the road was shrouded in mist and shadow. The Keeper did not know how this would end.
Meanwhile, in the forests, the two Fey creatures moved soundlessly ad quickly through the trees, not daring to speak or stop. They had a distinct interest in keeping the human kingdom safe, and they had been charged with bringing the exiled princess back to the Fey capitol.
The clouds were tinged with brilliant gold and red when they finally reached the gate to Anor, the Fey city.
"Finally," the man said, stepping through the gate. The woman followed briskly, vanishing behind it into the insubstantial Fey world.
Everything shimmered around them, and then dimmed into midnight. The sky cleared above them, and shone with stars and planets of every color.
Around them, every living thing shone with colored fire, the flowers shining in brilliant shades of pink, orange, purple, yellow, and red. The grass was brilliant emerald, matching the leaves of the trees shining above them.
Everything else was lack and shadowy, and the two moved forward through the night to greet a woman who was sitting cross-legged, a few yards from the gate, eyes closed, and floating several feet above the ground. Her skin shone silver, and her hair curled down her back, midnight blue.
"Majesty," the woman said, kneeling. The man bent his head in respect for the Fey Queen.
Their Queen opened her eyes, which proved to be an icy and pure blue.
"Well done, Dante and Yerima, well done," she said, noting Ilene in Dante's arms.
"You are sure she will be safe here?" Yerima asked doubtfully.
"I am certain," she said. "No human may find this place unaided, and I have faith in the Fey that they will not turn on us. None of the Fey city will betray their universe. They know that the fate of our world, and the fate of the human world are hand in hand. That is why I sent Fey into the world for the first time in a thousand years."
Yerima bowed her head and stood. Dante straightened.
"Go, send her to sleep peacefully," the Queen said. "When she awakens, we will begin with the process of saving our world. I will recall our brethren, and we will close our city off from the world," the Queen uncrossed her legs and lowered as she stood, gracefully landing on her feet.
The two Fey turned and walked towards a building made of bent trees, shining with brilliant fire.
"I can only hope that this will be enough to save us from ruin," the Queen whispered as they left her side, and conjured up a ball of blue fire in front of her.
"Fey, return to Anor, we have found Ilene of Merridor," she said commandingly. "Return with haste. As soon as the princess awakens, we have the work of rebuilding the world to see to. Do not linger in the human world. We do not have time for idleness now."
MercurialInK Community Member 
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