23A.N. Hello there readers... I revised this story *a lot*, so if you want to know what's going on you might want to reread or at least skim the old stuff if you have the chance. I'll make note of it before the next new chapter... so... enjoy. I also kinda shortened it... taking out stuff that I deemed unnecessary, so sorry if the chapters seem a bit on the short side. Also, chapter three is new... since I melded chapters one and two I needed something to go in and even out the chapters I already have... hence, that I added the chapter three. It is merely the same story as chapter two, told from a different point of view. If this doesn't interest you then please, skip it. Now... on with the show...
With the half-moon skipping across the horizon all night, it never grew dark enough to hide the old house in the comforting blackness it seemed to crave. Death perched on every chair and snoozed in every corner, waiting for the old woman to push a final breath into the autumn air and pass quietly into another place.
The widow's only daughter did all she could to hide from her mother's illness. Each night she curled up in a dimly lit corner of the kitchen with her short, slender fingers wrapped around the spine of a book. Tonight she held a history text on the Third war of Selbonaire. Her eyes were the color of fading grass, rimmed in golden-amber, hiding behind dark lashes. Her features were small and delicate, and her mud-brown hair hung limply down to brush on her shoulders.
Alaina's study of history was interrupted by the soft shuffle of feet in the hallway, coming toward her hiding place. She looked up to see the household's only maid, Corra, in the doorway. She was a tall woman, with a messy mass of grey and red hair pulled up on top of her head. Her plump arms were wrapped around a large basket of sheets and towels, ready to be washed. "Alaina," she said softly, tipping her head to the side, trying to persuade a stray lock of hair from her large, brown eyes.
Alaina smiled, dropping the book in her hands down to her lap. "What is it Corra? Do you need some help?" she asked, standing.
Corra shook her head, smiling. "No Dear, I just wanted to tell you that your mother's awake and she wants to see you."
"She asked for me?" Alaina asked, surprised. Her mother hadn't said more than a few words at a time in weeks.
Corra nodded. "And it sounded important."
"Thank you for telling me," Alaina said anxiously.
Corra just nodded, smiling, and disappeared from the room, leaving the faint scent of laundry detergent and vanilla in her wake.
Alaina quickly dropped her book onto the kitchen table and walked through a wide, swinging door into the house's elaborate dining room. The walls were covered with pale blue wallpaper and on top of that, hung numerous paintings in gold frames. The large dining table in the center of the room was always spotless and had a large candle display in the center. It was large enough to comfortably seat a substantial family, but it hadn't seen any use in years. Alaina turned and surveyed the room. All of this would go to her half-brother, Kaile, as soon as her mother passed away. Alaina and Kaile's mutual father had left the house to Kaile in his will, but he wouldn't receive it until Alaina's mother passed away. The day she died, Kaile would be the proud new owner of the house and all its surrounding property. That day would be soon. Alaina sighed and turned for the stairs.
Her bare feet slapped the dusty steps as she walked slowly up to the second floor of the house. A line of orange light beneath her mother's closed door broke the darkness of the hallway. She put her trembling fingers onto the cool brass doorknob and pushed open the heavy door.
When Alaina walked into her mother's room she felt as if she'd stepped into another world. A fire burned ravenously in the hearth, elevating the temperature of the small room to twice that of the hall. The glaring orange firelight spread dimly through the cluttered space, not quite reaching into the corners. In the center of the opposite wall stood her mother's high bed. It was heaped with heavy blankets, obscuring her mother's fragile form until she was merely a lump in a sea of material. Alaina thought that perhaps her mother would melt away and become a vapor before she had a chance to die on her own.
She stepped across the room, her bare feet quiet on the smooth wooden floor. Stopping next to her mother's bed, she looked down at the mass of cotton and wool. As she watched, her mother's pale hand slid from beneath the blankets and moved over the thick materials covering her body. "Alaina?" she heard her mother's muffled voice ask as her hand reached out into the hot air.
"I'm here Mama," Alaina said, slipping her own cool fingers into her mother's hot hand.
Her mother squeezed her hand. "Help me with these blankets Alaina," she said, stirring beneath them. "Corra is trying to smother me."
"She means well," Alaina replied, smiling and pulling four thick blankets from her mother and dropping them into a satisfying pile on the floor. "Too much?"
Alaina's mother shook her head. "Open the window too. It reeks of death in here." Alaina quickly obeyed, pushing back the curtain and sliding the stubborn glass outwards. The night air crept in quickly and seemed to drag the oppression out the narrow slit and into the November night. "I feel lighter already," her mother said softly, a smile spreading across her face. She pushed her fragile frame up with her arms, maneuvering herself into sitting position.
Alaina looked at her mother. She was immensely thin, her pale, almost white flesh clinging to her bones. Her thinning grey hair was pulled up and away from her face, and steel-blue eyes stared out at Alaina from behind pale lashes. A smile crept over her narrow lips.
"I haven't seen you this vigorous in months, Mama," Alaina said, smiling back. "You look much better." She sat down on the edge of her mother's bed and grasped her mother's hand once more.
"I feel better," she said, her smile fading away. "But I'm still going to die. It's my time."
Alaina nodded solemnly, not sure what to say to this declaration. "Why did you want to see me Mama?" she asked finally.
Her mother stared across the dark room in to the deep orange light of the fire, watching as it crackled merrily, working with the cool, night wind to make the room seem far less stifling than it had when Alaina had arrived. Just as she was growing used to her mother's silence, the old woman spoke. "How much do you know about the fire?"
"The one your grandfather died in?" Alaina asked, caught off-guard.
Her mother nodded. "You don't know how it started?"
Alaina shook her head. "All I know is that it destroyed the entire village."
Her mother nodded again. "That's all I knew too," she continued quietly. "Until my mother called me to her death-bed and told me what happened." Alaina's eyes widened and she waited for her mother to continue.
"It's a rather long story," she said softly, staring deeply into the fire. "And I only have time to tell you the basics. My brother can fill in the rest if you have the desire to know more."
"I have an uncle?" Alaina furrowed her brow; she'd never met any of her mother's family.
Her mother nodded. "I'll get to him. First let me tell you Petar's story." She cleared her throat and began the tale. "Petar was only thirteen when he first learned what his brothers could do. Sirus and Saumeal were twins, five years older than Petar. They were wild teenagers, always sneaking off into the woods and disappearing for days on end. Petar was only thirteen when he found out what his brothers could do. Sirus and Saumeal were twins, five years Petar's senior. At eighteen, they were wild teenagers, always sneaking off into the woods and disappearing for days on end. One night Petar followed them as they snuck out of the house and into the woods. He climbed a tree and watched them in a clearing.
"At first it just seemed like they were out for a midnight smoke. But, as Petar was about to climb out of the tree and join them, something very strange happened. Saumeal climbed up onto a large rock and spread his arms into the air. Nothing happened for a moment, but then Petar saw that the earth about Saumeal was moving, changing shape, and forming a high pillar in the center of the clearing." Here she paused and looked intently at Alaina's wide and curious eyes.
"Petar thought he'd gone mad," she continued, "And he nearly fell out of the tree. Sirus must have heard him because within a few minutes the twins had him. Petar was terrified, but he sat down and listened to their story. They told him that they had wandered into the valley of Mortaan and met a group of elves several weeks earlier."
Here, again, Alaina's mother halted her tale. "What is it Mama?" Alaina asked softly.
"Hand me that box," the old woman said, pointing a slender finger towards the mantle.
Alaina dropped her mother's hand and quietly crossed the room. Sitting on the mantle there was a small and solitary wooden box. Intricately carved flowers and vines wound across its glossy wooden surface. The grooves were filled with a silver-white paint that seemed to glow in the light of the happy fire.
Alaina wrapped her fingers around the box and carried it carefully back to her mother. "Here you are Mama," she said and put it into her mother's trembling hands. She sat back down on the edge of her mother's bed. "What is it?"
Her mother carefully lifted the lid from the box and dropped it into her own lap. Inside, she pushed back several layers of worn, white cotton to reveal a slender silver chain. She slipped a finger into the necklace and lifted it into the cool air. Dangling from the delicate silver rope there was a smooth and opaque white sphere the size of a large pea. It ignored the orange firelight, casting a green glow through the night air. "This is what Sirus and Saumeal had," she told Alaina, "They got it from the elves in the valley of Mortaan."
"It's beautiful," Alaina muttered, unable to pull her eyes away. "What is it?"
"It had no name that they knew of" her mother replied. "It was what it did that they found so amazing. With each wearer it brought out a certain talent specific to that person. In Saumeal it enhanced his power over the earth. Sirus, Petar learned, could create and control fire when wielding the precious tool."
"Amazing," Alaina said softly. "What about Petar? Could he use it as well?"
Her mother nodded. "Yes, they tried it out on Petar and found that he could control the fire too. But he was afraid of the power and wanted nothing to do with it. He ran home and didn't speak to anyone about it for ten years, until he met my grandmother, Leili.
"They were married in the spring of his twenty-third year, and in the winter their first and only child was born; my mother and your namesake, Alaina Mardell. Petar must have told Leili about his experience as a young man and it sparked her curiosity, for when Sirus and Saumeal returned to Bertlebridge from one of their trading excursions with the elves, she asked them about the necklace.
"They were surprised Petar had spoken of it, but had no problem showing it to Leili. They trusted her as if she were a blood sister and not just one by marriage. Petar came home as she was examining the gem, saw her with it and he flew into a fury. He snatched the necklace from her hands and began screaming at Sirus and Saumeal. He must have lost control of his powers and forgotten he had the necklace, because soon the house was in flames. Leili grabbed their baby and ran from the building, but Sirus and Saumeal stayed behind to try to stop Petar. Unfortunately, soon after Leili escaped with her life, the entire building came down, killing all three of them."
"That's horrible!" Alaina cut in.
Her mother nodded. "The fire spread, taking out the rest of the village over the next twenty-four hours. The villagers tried to fight it, but it seemed that nothing could douse the powerful flames. The only positive aspect was that the fire was very slow moving, and no one else in town was killed in the blaze.
"In the aftermath of the disaster Leili was fished the stone out of the rubble of their house. It was untouched and unharmed by the fire, and she kept it until the end of her life, when she passed it to my mother, who passed it to me."
"Awful," Alaina said quietly, "That our family was the cause of all that destruction."
Her mother nodded once more, staring at the necklace in her hands. "Yes, but no more pain has come from the necklace since that time. In fact, my mother, who found she had power over water, brought rain to Bertlebridge during a drought. She probably saved the lives and livelihoods of everyone in the village."
Alaina smiled. "I'm glad its power is not cursed," she said thoughtfully, "It may prove a tool of salvation."
Her mother nodded again, surprised at her daughters words of prophecy. "And now, as my mother gave this stone to me, I must give it to you." She held the necklace out to Alaina.
"Now?" Alaina asked, taken aback. "Why?"
Her mother smiled, tears welling in her eyes. "You know as well as I do that I'm going to die. You needed to hear its story before I gave it to you."
"Mama…" Alaina didn't know how to respond. She simply put out her hand and let her mother drop the necklace into her outstretched fingers. As it fell through the air, its green glow faded, and when in Alaina's hand it did not take on a new color but remained lifeless in her palm.
"Put it on dear," her mother said as Alaina examined it. "Keep it safe."
Alaina complied, clasping the narrow chain around her neck. "What do you want me to do with it Mama?" she asked softly.
Her mother sighed. "That is another reason I called you here tonight. You have to take it to your uncle. He can show you how to use it.
"My uncle?" Alaina had never met any of her mother's family.
"Yes, my brother Kennet. He lives in Falom Rai. You have to go there. Once I'm gone, the house will go to that dratted boy of Genen's and you'll have nowhere to stay in town." She was speaking of Alaina's half-brother Kaile. Her father, Genen Bran, had left the house to Kaile following his second wife's death.
"How do I get to Falom Rai?" Alaina asked suddenly. "I don't know the way."
Her mother smiled sympathetically. "Hire a boy from the village to take you. It's not a long journey, and I'm sure there are plenty who'd be willing to go."
Alaina nodded, frowning. "When must I leave?" she asked, grasping her mother's hand in her own trembling fingers.
"As soon as the sun rises, Alaina," her mother replied. "I'll be gone before sunset and it won't be safe for you anymore."
"What do you mean?" Alaina asked, horrified.
"Kennet can explain everything to you Alaina," she answered. "He knows more about it than I do."
"Mama." Alaina's fear was taking over and tears began to trickle down her soft cheeks.
"It's alright my sweet daughter," her mother said, pulling Alaina into a hug.
Alaina, wrapped in her mother's arms, allowed herself to cry. Hot, salty tears trickled from her green eyes, covering her face and slipping down onto her shirt and soaking into the thin material. "I love you mama," she finally said, pulling away from her mother's fragile form. "I'll miss you."
"Ohh Alaina." Her mother smiled at her. "You'll be fine; you're a strong girl." She put a hand on her daughter's shoulder. "But now you must go to your room and pack everything you need to take with you to Falom Rai."
"Now?" Alaina stood up, surprised.
Her mother nodded. "Yes, and when the sun rises you must go into Bertlebridge and find a travel companion as quickly as you can. I'll be gone before the sun sets tomorrow, and you must be as far away as you can get before that happens."
"Why the urgency Mama?" Alaina asked, bringing her arms up across her chest, warding off the chilly night air.
"I told you, it won't be safe for you here when I'm gone. My presence is acting as a barrier. He can't see you, but as soon as I die his men will come down on this place. You must be far away when that happens. He doesn't know about you."
"Who mama?" Alaina asked, casting wary glances around the room, as if the walls would descend upon her at any moment.
"Brevin," her mother answered shortly. "He is very powerful. You have to stay away from him Alaina. Don't trust anyone who gives him their allegiance."
"Who is he?"
"Again, you have to wait for your uncle to explain it to you Alaina. Now, you must go and pack your bags."
"Mama…"
"Go now Alaina," her mother cut in. "I love you. You have to be strong for me. I'm sorry I didn't warn you earlier, but I could not see it until this very evening. I did not know Brevin was so close. Go!" she shouted, pointing at the door.
Alaina let one last mournful look fall across her mother's small and fragile form before she turned and ran from the room. The dark hallway welcomed her, enveloping her as she shut her mother's heavy door behind her and turned toward the stairs. The sound of her bare feet pounding down the dry, narrow staircase echoed through the dark house, filling it with a sense of dread.
She made her way into her dark bedroom and shut the door softly behind her. Crying softly, she collapsed on her bed and shook quietly in the lonely darkness of her empty room. A ray of silent moonlight crept through her tiny window, falling across the bed before her. Sitting up, and drying her tears she spoke quietly to herself. "I've got to pack my things," she muttered. "It will be dawn soon."
Lighting an oil lamp on her nightstand, she looked around her tiny room. There were very few things she needed to take. She had a few books and some clothes to pack away. Perhaps a couple of carvings her father had done and ribbons from her mother. She pulled a large canvas bag from beneath her low bed and began filling it with all of these things. Most of her clothes, neatly folded, went in first, followed by the carvings and several books from her shelf. On top she put in her sketchpad and pocketknife and various other little things she didn't want to lose.
Her bag was packed, now it was time for her to leave. She pushed the door of her room closed behind her as she made her way into the dark hallway. Outside the world was growing grey, and, as the sun began to peek over the gentle hills near her home, she set off towards town.