Read Return of the Crown Online

Authors: Millie Burns

Tags: #adventure, #fantasy, #magic, #young adult, #childrens, #teen, #sorcery, #hero, #good vs evil, #creature, #mythical

Return of the Crown (3 page)

BOOK: Return of the Crown
10.36Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Blade swallowed. He never lied, especially to
Captain Joff, who was like an uncle. “I have no family here,
especially if what you say is true. King Bryant was like a father
to me, the Queen my mum, and Ravyn…,” he choked back a sob. He
could not think of his friend swallowed by the sea. He brushed
tears from his cheek. “But I have an uncle in Eagle Heights, and
after I take the horses to pasture, I could walk there. It’s just a
day’s walk. Then I’ll be with family. If I stay here, I don’t know
what will happen to me. Please,” he pleaded, “No one will know you
let me out. Zelera isn’t worried about one small boy.” Tears welled
in his eyes once more. He couldn’t stop thinking about Ravyn, her
dark hair, her laughing blue eyes, her constant giggling, gone.

Captain Joff looked around nervously.
Compassion overtook him, and he opened the gate, letting the lad
and the two horses through. As the gate latched firmly shut, he
heard in the back of his mind, ‘
Protect yourself from Zelera,
and know there is hope for the future. She is behind the Darkness,
and she was not able to kill the King and Queen but only to hold
them in a timeless void. Ravyn escaped and will one day return to
challenge the usurper. Bide your time, and in nine years hence
we’ll set it all right again
.’ Joff flew up the steps to peer
over the top of the gate, looking down at Moonlight. For an
instant, he could swear he saw Connor atop the magnificent white
steed, and then the saddle was empty again. In his heart, Joff knew
he had made the right decision, and he would protect the secret
with his life.

The city gates faded from view behind them as
they turned off the main. The trees brushed against them as they
headed down a narrow lane running deep into the forest. Connor was
sagging in his saddle, but they were far too close to Zelera to let
his defenses down. She figured out he was a practitioner of the
Light quickly. She probably guessed he was a Master of the Light
and set out to frame him. He berated himself for all the mistakes
of the past few years that lead to this point in time.

He shook away the self-doubts, realizing
Blade was still unaware as to what had happened. ‘
Son, the King
and Queen are not dead but encased in a spellbound state. From my
understanding of the Dark Arts, they could stay that way
indefinitely. I believe Zelera means to deliver them into the
Darkness forever, a fate worse than death. She is not yet that
strong. Ravyn is safe; the Queen and I used magic to prevent
Zelera’s malicious spell from touching her. Because the Queen used
invisibility in her spell, I can’t locate Ravyn through the Light
Arts, until she turns sixteen, when her powers start to awaken.
Then her aural thread will be visible to any sorcerer or sorceress
to see. We must go into hiding. And, you must train in the sword,
for the time will come when you will need to defend yourself and
your country
.’

Blade heard only snippets of what Connor
said. His mind locked on the words running through his head: she’s
not dead, she’s not dead. All the extreme emotions of the day took
their toll, and the once alert boy was slipping off his horse.
Connor expended one more touch of magic in his direction, just a
tiny sliver. He eased him to sleep, while binding him gently to his
saddle. The horses continued wending their way through the dark
pine forest deeper into the surrounding hills.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 2

 

 

 

 

The face in the dark sky grew larger and
angrier, roaring with pent-up rage. A long shrill shriek filled her
ears as her parents plunged beneath a sooty torrent, and a terrible
bitter taste glutted her mouth. Ravyn sat bolt upright. Sweat ran
in rivulets down her neck. The same dream haunted her for nearly
nine years now; it came to her night after night. Nevertheless,
dawn would arrive, and she would awaken in her cozy bed on her
little island, far from any other human beings. This morning was no
different.

She rose spryly from the bed she’d built, a
lattice of reeds woven over a slender oak frame. She straightened
the coverlet, filled with the down of the geese that chose the
island as a resting spot along their migration path. Smiling to
herself, she glanced around the cozy room that had become her
home.

When the globe of Light dropped her on this
island years ago, she found herself utterly alone. The island was
small; she could march around it in a single day. It provided her
everything she needed to survive: fresh water from a spring, many
varieties of fruit trees, and a little grotto that sheltered her
from the inclement weather. Back then she thought of the island as
a temporary shelter. Someone would come to rescue her. Now, nearly
nine years later, it was home. She sighed. She missed her parents
and Blade.

At times, she imagined Blade was with her,
and she would carry on conversations, playing both parts. The only
person she had to talk to was Rowan, an elf who inhabited the
island. He’d taken her under his wing, teaching her how to survive.
The first time she’d seen him, she thought he was a trick of her
imagination. She’d seen him out of the corner of her eye; but when
she turned to look at him, all she saw were the trees.

For days he shadowed her as she explored the
island. She could feel him watching, but she never felt threatened
by his presence. He finally broke his silence as she was about to
eat some sweet looking berries. He appeared before her, knocking
the berries from her hand. “Auch, missy, you don’t want to put them
in your mouth. Those’ll make you sick, they will. Follow me, I’ll
find you some delightful vittles.” She smiled, remembering the man
who had been her size at the time, golden hair touched with
silver.

Thus their friendship was born. He showed her
which plants were edible and which were not. He taught her how to
construct a tree house, how to catch fish using a spear, how to
make bowls out of clay, and how to carve wood into utensils. He
never did things for her but guided her step by step. “There are
times, missy, when I think it’d be a far easier thing to just do it
for you,” he would declare in exasperation. “But where would you be
then? I may not always be here. You’ve got to learn how to manage
on your own, little one.”

Her rumbling tummy broke her reverie. “Rowan,
good morning, where are you?” she called, climbing down the rope
ladder from her tree house. Rowan had taught her how to weave the
fibers of some of the roots to make sturdy ropes.

“I’m just tending my trees. I was telling a
story to the little saplings. They were feeling a bit sad down here
in the shade. They’re a longing to reach the sun like their
forebears, the great oaks. So, I was a telling them about when I
came to this little pile of rocks with naught but a few seeds, all
their ancestors, and began growing them up. I told them how their
parents were edgy to reach the sky too, an’ they tweren’t even in
any shadows. That made them happier I’m thinking. Don’t they look a
bit springier and even a bit taller today?” He winked at Ravyn.

“Oh my, they are much taller today. I think
this little sprig was just to my calf yesterday, and now it’s up to
my knee,” she chuckled.

Her eyes widened as the tree visibly extended
its branches another inch or so upwards. “I never tire of seeing
you at work, Rowan. I don’t believe there are any finer trees
anywhere.”

Rowan grinned, handing Ravyn a little
package. “You cannot think I’ve forgotten what day it is today? A
Merry Birthing Day Ravyn! A sweeter sixteen-year old cannot be
found hereabouts.”

“Oh thank you, Rowan, I know you’d never
forget. But, I am the only sixteen-year old anywhere within miles
of here.” She put one hand on her hips and wagged a finger at him
in mock severity, but she only succeeded in bursting into
giggles.

“Why that’s not true,” blustered Rowan, “I
have several trees growing round the backside of the island that
are just about the same age. While they are fine and hold very
sweet fruit indeed, they cannot come close to your sweetness. None
are near as lovely either. There’s a doe with a magnificent brown
coat and eyes as big as saucers. She’s a right beauty indeed. And
again, I’d need to remind you that she cannot compare; your beauty
outshines her in a heartbeat.”

Ravyn wrapped her arms around him tightly.
“Oh, you silly man, you know what I mean. Sometimes you are so
incorrigible.”

He wiggled free of her embrace, eyeing the
package she clutched in her hands. “Well, are you gonna open that
gift or not? If you don’t want it, I can take it back. I’m sure I
can find a use for it.”

Ravyn hugged the package to her chest. “Let
me find a place to sit, and I will.” She perched on a log bench
they had built together, carved from a large oak that had fallen in
a storm. She untied the twine, spreading the paper aside. Inside
was a blouse and trousers made of a luxurious silky fabric that
echoed the colors of the forest. It slid through her hands like
water. “Oh, this is so beautiful! Where did you get this?”

“I made it myself. You know I’m a weaver. My
mum is the finest elf weaver ever. Guess a bit of that talent
rubbed off on me. Normally, I just weave us simpler fabric for our
island lifestyle, light and comfortable. But you are growing up
into a right fine lady and should be clothed as such. I’ve got
summat else for you too.” From seemingly nowhere he produced a fine
traveling cloak of deep green that sang of the woods. It was a
heavier weave than the blouse and trousers, and lined with soft
fur. It was far too warm for island weather.

“It takes my breath away. They are lovely
presents. Thank you so much.” She leaned over, pecking his cheek.
Rowan blushed.

“Aw, don’t start getting mushy on me. It was
getting necessary; you’re growing faster than I can keep you
covered. Any taller and you won’t be able to find me down here so
low to the ground.”

“Speaking of mush, shall we eat?” Ravyn
asked, reaching for the rope ladder. She threw the clothes over her
shoulders, tying the cloak loosely about her neck. Despite the
thickness of the fabric, it rested lightly on her shoulders. But
she felt heat building up against her skin, making her sticky. She
pulled herself up onto the little porch of the tree house.

“Wow, this cloak is making me hot. Might I
ask why you made the cloak so thick? I think it will be too heavy
to get much use. The weather here is mild the whole year
through.”

Sorrow blanketed his features as his head
peeked over the porch. He pulled himself upright, looked into her
eyes and sighed, “I am afraid you’ll be leaving soon. The breeze
whispers of change. I’ve been so happy having you here; I hadn’t
realized I was lonely until you came. Elves grow up knowing we will
venture out into the world to find some spot that needs tender
loving care. Some go to the woods, some to the mountains, and some
to little islands in the middle of nowhere.” He shrugged his
shoulders, looking around. “Nearly always, we go alone. There’s so
much work to be done in this world. I will be on this little island
for another century before I return home to find a wife and raise a
family of my own. I feel lucky indeed, as if I already have a
daughter. But, just as I had to grow up and leave home, so must
you. And the time is nigh at hand.” He turned his head and wiped a
tear sneaking down his cheek. “Must’ve gotten a mote of dust in my
eye.”

“Oh, I could never leave. I dream about the
day my parents died every night, and I see my aunt searching for me
in my dreams. She’s behind their deaths, and she wants me dead too.
But she doesn’t know where I am; I’m safe here.” She leaned against
the doorframe, rubbing her arms to chase away the goose bumps that
popped up along her arms despite the warmth from the cloak.

“You have been, till now. Today is your
Birthing Day, and a special one at that. You’re sixteen. From what
I’ve surmised, your mum was strong in the Light Arts. Your aunt,
though she turned to the Darkness, is strong too. The power that
allows you to manipulate the Light manifests when you reach this
ripe old age. I have no doubt that you’ll be equal to your mum in
power. You’ll start making things happen, whether you want to or
not. You cannot change your destiny.”

“Deep down I know you’re right. I know things
cannot stay the same. I’m frightened though. Frightened of the
unknown. Nothing here is evil; no one here will hurt me. The only
magic I have seen these past nine years is yours, which you employ
for the good of your plants and trees. What do I do with the power
when it comes? How will I recognize it, control it? I wasn’t old
enough to study the Light Arts when I lived in Veris. I remember
watching my mother when she was controlling the Light, but nothing
she said or did enlightens me to what I must do. Where in the world
am I, and where do I need to go? I feel so small, so inexperienced,
and so alone.” She slumped further into the doorway.

“Tsk, now, let’s not ask for trouble where
there is none. You’re the bravest lass I ever met, and I did meet a
few human folk before I came to this island. You’ve learned much
about survival, taking on the toughest tasks without batting an
eye. You are gentle and caring. For as long as I’ve known you,
you’ve never been untrue or unkind. And, you are very clever.
You’ve discovered ways of doing things that I didn’t teach you.
Most times those ways are an improvement over how I get things
done. When the magic arrives, you’ll learn to control it and use it
wisely. Fret not, love. Now, let’s get us summat for our bellies;
I’m famished.” His stomach rumbled in agreement.

Ravyn straightened, heading to the kitchen.
Rowan would never say things just to make her feel better. He never
said something unless he believed it, and she found over the years
that he was generally correct. If he said she could learn to
control the power on her own, then she could.

BOOK: Return of the Crown
10.36Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

A Whale For The Killing by Farley Mowat
Starting Point by N.R. Walker
Above by Isla Morley
Running Home by Hardenbrook, T.A.
Bay of Souls by Robert Stone