Opus 0, No. 5
(Fourth Episode of An Ancient Story)
"Marah, what's wrong?" Lady Aylward asked when she noted the tears on her daughter's face. Confused, she looked to her elder sons before realizing something was wrong. Bandages. Blood. Sword. Wat.
"By the blood of Búnaithor!" Their mother rushed forward and knelt by Wat, "What happened!"
Wat grimaced as Hal pulled tight on a damp rag around his wound. "It was just an accident mother," he said.
"I see as much, but how?"
Marah stood behind her mother and hung her head, waiting for her guilt to be known.
Wat spoke first, "I was being clumsy, and I must've --"
"It was my fault, mother."
Marah's head shot up. What was this? Hal was kneeling beside Wat, but his face was turned towards his mother. Marah realized that he was still talking, but she could not understand it. Hal was apologizing for a fault that he had not done. The thought was strange to her, yet here it was, before her in a mist.
Marah's pondering thoughts were pushed aside when Lady Aylward rose from her position and announced that she would "search for a medicinal man in haste." Marah heard the rustle of her skirts fade away, but her eyes were fixed elsewhere.
Hal was unaware that her attention was fixed on him as he tightened the bloody rags or as his fingers squeezed out the water from them. Suddenly, he felt as if a small vizer was clamped around his waist, nearly pushing him off his knees. When he looked down, Hal saw the flame of his sister's hair.
"Firelily? What's wrong?" He touched her head gently and stroked her hair. Marah started to sob. She didn't know why. She wouldn't until she was old enough to understand mercy. But for now, she began to realize what love and sacrifice meant together.
Yes, Marah was able to see the Prince the next day. What joy she felt from being rewarded for her efforts; more joy than if she had been given the reward freely.
~+~
The nursery was quiet, for Prince Adalwain was asleep. When they approached the royal crib, Kirkby lifted Marah up for her to see him better. What she saw was more than she had imagined (and if you have been following along with this story, you would know that that is something young Adalwain should be rewarded for). The babe seemed to be the offspring of an angel and a Driad (reference 1). His curled hair radiated as a crown of light in her eyes, and his skin seemed as delicate as the misty dew. There was not a wrinkle on his fore, nor a frown upon his cheek.
Marah studied Adalwain, and as she looked towards his eyes, she started when she realized that they were open and studying her as well. Deep, rich eyes that watched without worry. That didn't blink or show expression.
Marah bowed her head and lowered her eyes before her future king.
Reference 1: Driads are slight, shy creatures that are rarely seen. It's thought that if you could capture one, you would have all manner of wisdom because these creatures seem to have all-knowledge of the earth, sky, and sea. Those who have seen them say that they appear as a mist and they would've passed as one if the features of a face and limbs weren't present as well. Driads are known for their benevolence. For example, if a shepherd was lost in the mountains of the northern province and then stumbled upon a path, you'd hear him say, "The bean of the driads! The path!" Driad's origins are unknown, but it's often said that though they serve no human, they serve a greater being.
It has been a while since a post! Thankfully, Natalia has happily been keeping the posts coming in a steady stream. I wish I could say the same, but I'm still trying to get over the fact that my stories aren't going to be perfect. I've still been writing on the side, but I haven't had the guts to post in a long time.
Aww, you are very welcome! Thank's for letting me use your blog!
Thanks N. T.! I was just telling my parents how you’ve been inspiring me to finish some stories recently so double thanks for that too. 😁
And that picture is really cool!
You're an amazing writer, Zabrina! I love your stories! This chapter is especially great! 😉😁😛😋