Raven Warrior by BornlessRaven | World Anvil Manuscripts | World Anvil

Chapter 7 . Diana and Celeste in the Purple Haze.

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Chapter 7. Diana and Celeste in The Purple haze.

Diana, Princess of the Wellspring and Mistress of the Forests was leaning on her spear gazing out of the large castle window. Below her were the great gardens of King Mallus’ estate. Beauty surrounded her but she could not see any of it because of all the hurt and anger in her breast. It was unthinkable that Genia had been taken from them. Yes, she understood why, but it did not make the loss and heartache any less. Celeste was nervously pouring over her notebook of recipes for potions and spells hoping that they would have permission to go on their own quest to find Genia. Celeste’s preparations were largely medicinal whereas Diana’s consisted of how much weaponry she could carry, her bow and arrows, a spear, hunting knife, a rope, her cloak of many greens and her small woodsman’s axe from her father. He was a wise and skilled Woodsman of the Royal Forests. Her mother, one of the King’s own Glovers and guardian of the hawks, was going to give her a bird to ride with if they were allowed to go.

Lady Sage came quietly and thoughtfully into the room. They were excited and tried to talk at the same time to implore the Lady to let them go adventuring. They rushed about the room, moving here and there, hugging Lady Sage one minute, pleading and gesturing wildly the next.

Lady sage calmly sat down at her table, lit a small oil burner, placed herbs in her dainty, golden kettle and before long it was bubbling away.

“Stop my ladies, stop!”, she said and laughed.

“I have no wish to stop you from adventuring forth in pursuit of your goals. We all know that her rescue must take eighteen years, as foretold by the deities. However, it will take a good eighteen years for you to pursue your quests and find the exact position of the portal to the universe where Genia resides. If you get that wrong she may never come home and history will take a different course. If you get it right then she will still be the Queen in waiting and Demetri’s bride. We must live with loss and sorrow until that time and she probably lives in desperate hope that we can save her.”

“Therefore I shall tell you what I see in my golden kettle beneath the bubbling clouds of sparkling steam.”

Diana and Celeste leaned in and peered into the little kettle. They saw the town of Twycross, a river crossing and The Great Cleft. The Cleft was a deep and craggy gorge, with many caves and overhangs. Some watery inlets formed between the high-sided gullies as the river gushed down towards The Long Sea. Sparkling waterfalls flowed forcefully from high crevices in the sharp grey cliffs. The wide estuary of the White River poured out into the sea fed by icy streams that rose far to the north East in the mountains of Golden Stronghill and beyond. To the East of the river were the rolling Ryne Lands and to the West the land dropped sharply, then flattened abruptly into the Reedland Rides. These lowlands were covered with a maze of small river highways used by the population more than roads or tracks. Low waterways and high reeds beside glassy water made the Reedland rides a quiet place to travel. Higher ground made the building of houses and villages possible but there were no great towns as there were in the east. Down in the mists of the kettle they could see two ancient bridges crossing the White River, they thought that they should remember these.

“You must ride far into The Southern Coastal Lands. Beyond the River Brae, beyond Twycross, beyond the rivers Glan and Fetch, to Lake Yame. There you shall find the Old Soothsayer who can give you the precise information that you need. You must guard his secrets wisely and remember them carefully, then return to King Sorre’s castle where eventually all of you will meet with Demetri and Benedict again.”

“How easy!”, exclaimed Diana with bravado.

“That will take us no time at all!”

“Diana, be warned that your haste may trip you up. Time is not the problem here. Trust is the problem. Trust no one except the Old Soothsayer. There will be traps on the way and you must guard against your rashness and be wary of false words. Celeste, you are able to listen to the sounds of the rivers and streams, listen carefully to what they tell you. Diana you must listen to the trees and the birds and use your hawk wisely. You must both be constantly on your guard because there is always trickery against those who follow an honest quest. Celeste, when you approach villagers use your water maiden disguise, only reveal your true blue beauty and let down your watery blue hair when you are with friends and other water maidens who you fully trust."

“Yes Lady Sage, we shall be careful!” they said in rather a hurry because they were anxious to be off.

As soon as they had left her chambers they ran to gather their things, find their ponies and stop at the Glovery. Diana’s mother was waiting for them with a hawk.

“You look flushed Diana, you know that this is a long quest, it will not be over satisfactorily by rushing at it?”

“I know mother, we are just anxious to be on our way. We shall be careful I promise.” She kissed her mother and took Veril, the hawk, who was to ride with her.

“Rest now Veril for we shall need you later.”

With that they kicked their horses and set off down the road past the ancient statue of the deities on one side and the dead Queen Fysi’s statue on the other. Years ago King Quand, of The Southern Coastal Lands, had been wed to a most beloved wife, Fysi. Quand’s son King Sorre had happily taken over the throne in recent times as his father grew older. Sorre was well loved, as were his courageous and honourable sons, the Princes. A wonderful and mystical statue of Fysi had been placed at the gates of King Mallus’ castle to safeguard travellers. As Diana and Celeste looked into the bejewelled eyes of Fysi’s statue the gems gleamed, sparkled and shot out beautiful rays of light. They took this as a very good omen.

“Hurrah!” shouted Diana and they galloped off.

Needless to say they came across one obstacle after another. While they rode in their homelands all was well, almost as if it were nothing more than an exciting holiday. They were ill prepared for what was to come afterwards because their innocence and anticipation clouded their judgment. They dropped down into the Southern Coastal Lands following the River Grieg for a while, then turned west across the rocky hills and moorland towards Twycross. They were full of chatter and speculation.

            “It should be easy enough to find the Old Soothsayer, and who knows if we find out where the portal is perhaps we could take a look before we return to Sorre’s castle. If we have discovered everything about the magic gateway we could return as heroes of the day! By the time the others join us we shall lead them triumphantly to rescue Genia. Perhaps we don’t need to wait the full eighteen years, maybe we could find her well before that!” exclaimed Diana.

“Diana you are always in such a rush. There must be a reason why the enchantment was laid out for eighteen years. Lady Sage is never wrong about sorcery and you and I have only just come out into the world. What if we rushed ahead and made it all go wrong?”

“No, no, no!” said Diana. “ We are young and clever, we have every chance of clearing this all up by the time the war is over. When we all meet again at Sorre’s castle we shall be experienced adventurers, after all what was all our long education for if not for seeking out quests and solving them? I hope to face many challenges on our journey. Between us we have numerous powers and our magic is fresh in our minds. It’s a good idea to practise using our spells I say!”

Celeste was not so sure. Privately she thought that the cosmos would right itself and that the land and animals would guide her decisions. It was most likely that Diana’s initial enthusiasm would wane and she’d see things in a more rational light as the months rolled on.

They rode on enthusiastically before resting their horses and looking around themselves.

Diana, of The Well Spring, and sometimes wise young lady of the forests, stood on the crest of the hill, her hair blowing back hard in the strong wind. Her cloak was held tightly around her, bow slung on her shoulder and hunting knife at her belt, she shaded her eyes from the bright sunlight.

                        “ Well Celeste, we have far to go to find the Old Soothsayer . This quest seems simple enough and I will agree that we may have some difficulties on the way. We have to travel across lands that we are unaccustomed to, we shall meet many people and things will be new and strange. I shall not shrink from this quest, we must do our duty and have courage,” she said.

            “We are on a strange and perilous mission, and in a time of war too. How I wish that Lord Ivy had never started this wicked conflict. Our world has changed forever and above all things we must find Genia and bring her home. Lady Sage and Queen Rosemary said it has to  be eighteen years before the time is ripe to return Genia to our home, so we must do our part in bringing this about,” replied Celeste.

            Celeste put her silvery-blue arm around Diana’s waist as they stood surveying the blustery countryside in front of them. They had left King Mallus’ castle beside the old city of Ting two days ago. They rode sturdy trekking ponies which fared well on poor grazing, they could withstand all temperatures, had short strong legs, sharp eyes and ears both protected well by long lashes and fur. Their temperament was mild and they could go for many miles without requiring rest.

            The pair had gleaned as much information as they could from the folk of Ting city. They had learnt about the best roads and inns to stop at on their way to the edge of the Long Sea, there they would seek out the Soothsayer. They had crossed the gushing river Ting and had wound their way up the first of the many hills beyond which the border of The Ryne Lands lay. The ponies were grazing under a few trees behind them. Not far below was a rocky outcrop and some easy woodland with a small fresh steam. It was not long before they had set up their shelter amongst the trees and had a merry little fire burning beside the stream. They ate well and suddenly felt refreshed yet weary at the same time. A long-eared owl was calling a low note from its nest amongst the trees. After studying their maps they were quickly falling asleep to the sound of the tinkling brook, Celeste’s favourite sound.

            Morning saw Celeste up first, standing in the brook with her loose, turquoise trousers rolled up. She was bending low over the water with her face not far from the surface. Her silver hair fell down in front of her, the ends getting wet, tickling the surface like flies and as it did so, she thrust her silver-blue hand in swiftly and grasped a fish. She killed it, thanked it and cooked it for breakfast with four others sizzling in the pan with good oil, wild garlic and a hunk of bread. When they had eaten and cleaned the pots in the moving water they encouraged their ponies along the track. They headed down this hill and up the next. Each as green and lush as the last, each as gently wooded with oak and beech, hazel and birch. The tracks were mossy and easy on the ponies’ hooves. As they travelled they could see tree sparrows, warblers and busy little chiff-chaffs going about their business. They never felt alone in nature.

            All of a sudden they came across a boy who was crying fretfully for his poor grandmother. He sat on a hummock and told them his sad tale of woe. His grandmother had given her last coins to the cruel farmer who took all his rent and left her nothing to buy food for the animals or for her grandson.

            “Take us to your poor grandmother dear boy. Fear not, we shall help you and make all things well.”

            So Diana and Celeste followed the boy along a new track which seemed by the minute to have a darker air to it. The trees were more dense and gradually the air felt sickly, the light took on a purple hue. They looked to one another and the ponies shied and whinnied. They encouraged the ponies to follow the boy but as he turned a corner beside dense brambles he seemed to disappear and in front of them was a purple mist. They both knew that this was an enchanted mist and quietly rode along looking around them but seeing nothing. They roped the horses together and Diana held her knife under her cloak. Celeste hung her left arm down beside her saddle and silently and magically dripped water from her fingertips onto the path. Hours went by and still they rode on through the mist, along the track with no end in sight. But had they not seen the hills from the crest? Had they not seen the path meander around the hills beside the trickling stream? What was this place?

            After many hours the women were beginning to loll in their saddles and their eyes became heavy. They hankered for sleep yet the path was never ending.

            “Do not sleep Celeste,” shouted Diana to wake her up. 

            “Sing! Let’s sing to keep us awake until we can find the purpose of this mystery.”

            As they walked the ponies along they sang and sang, first one then the other being the more rousing.

            “Diana look!” said Celeste.

            As they looked down at the path it was wet with the steady stream of water that had come from Celeste’s hand.

            “We have done nothing but go round in circles. What could be the meaning of this?” whispered Diana.

            They pulled up the ponies and looked ahead as far as they were able. In the dim purple light they could see an ugly old woman sitting outside a pretty cottage waving to them.

            “However terrible she is to look upon we must do our duty and help her,” said Celeste.

            They rode towards the Old Crone and indeed she was waving, and smiling in her ugly way. As they got nearer they saw her point towards a great tapestry that she was weaving. It was far from complete but they could see clearly now that there was a beautiful palace at the centre of the picture. It seemed somehow familiar but as quickly as their focus had cleared then the whole scene disappeared. In place of the cottage and the crone with her tapestry were just trees intertwined and honeysuckle, columbine and mallow confusing the landscape.

            The air cleared and once more, birdsong resumed and they were in their green valley, with soft woodland and a tumbling brook beside them. It was as if this enchanted moment had never happened.

            The women were no strangers to magic but this had left them distracted.

            “Somehow I know that old woman. I have met her before, I felt it when she waved. That was a moment of sorcery, we saw her and yet did not see her, she was real and yet unreal,” said Diana as she dismounted and drank from the stream.

            Celeste was of the same mind.

            “I know that lady.” she said. “I vaguely know her picture, yet it is impossible! She must be a creature of magic. Perhaps she sends us a message, a warning?”

            “Perhaps. This is but the start of our quest. I dare say we shall see many more magical things on our way.”

Far away in Genia’s Glade in Londonatis she sat beside her cauldron. It had taken great energy to mix a potion powerful enough to cause a window into another universe. She had seen Diana and Celeste as clear as daylight. Of course they did not recognise her! She was now so heavily transformed into an Old Crone that no one would ever recognise her. Perhaps Demetri himself would not know her if the time came when he could travel through space to be by her side. Sadly she hobbled around crying until the evening came and it was time to make the Silver Pear for her dear daughter. Every evening she hung The Silver Pear from a tree beside The Serpentine and eating this allowed Scylla to walk as humans do in order to spend the hours of darkness with her mother in the glade. Seeing Scylla, who was her heart’s delight, made Genia’s life worth living. Goodness knows how sad she would be if this great joy was ever taken from her.

 

 

 

 

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