Pearl of the Stars

The brilliant meadow faded into a spindly pine forest, laden with the first glow of morning light.

It was Violet's second day in this forest, for she had many miles to travel until she reached the castle. It would have been only a few hours walk, had Violet started straight-off from her lost home in the marshes. But the journey from A'dak had set her off course.

Sleeping among the leaves and twigs and bugs was not unusual for Violet, but yet she felt out of place in this strange land. The fresh pines stood tall around her, leaving her trapped and exposed at the same instant. She felt as if sharp eyes might be watching her at any moment. Her strong grip upon the slowly emptying sack never loosened, and her head never seemed to stop looking towards the sky for sign of danger. But, suddenly, a gentle sound echoed from far away.

"Follow," came a whispered command from the distance.

Violet spun around in a circle, searching the forest floor for the owner of the voice.

"Come," the voice whispered again, like a melody floating on the wind. And it was a melody. Violet stared around her, frightened and curious at the same time as to why a flute was playing in the forest.

The flute continued to play, each note sweeter than the last, accompanied by the occasional whisper of a command. Until it slowly drifted away, leaving Violet wondering if the gentle music was even there in the first place.

She shook her head apprehensively, continuing the steady journey to her destination. But soon, the flute began to play again, this time louder. Loud enough for Violet to hear each whisper. "Come, follow me, this life shall deliver us to sea. Chase the pieces within your heart, fly across the heavens. Come, follow me, chase the wind into the sea. Come, follow me..." It was the tender singing of a young man, Violet realized as she stopped to listen closely.

Although, whomever it was, she did not wish to face them.

"Come," he breathed. "Come, follow me."

Violet could still see no sign of the young man, so she began to run. She fled with haste, away from the mysterious voice and flute. The enchanting sounds were far too sweet, too suspicious. Violet knew that creatures like faeries and goblins inhabited these forests -- creatures that meant her harm.

Her feet spluttered against the solid earth, kicking up sticky scented pine needles that pricked the flesh above her boots. Everything was so dry and hot there. Violet wished she could happen upon a trickling stream once again, for her water skin had lost its contents long ago.

Violet's travels continued slowly into the day. Each time the woods would rustle, she'd pause to listen. She listened for the voice and the flute melody, making sure whatever it was had not followed her. After a few more hours, Violet knew she was safe. She could now see the tip of a few towers that protruded from the castle, reaching their stone hands high into the sky. She brushed her hair from her face, dripping with exhaustion. The air around her smelled of sticky pine and sweat.

The stone towers grew larger as her feet pattered onward. Dying ivy wrapped around the thick walls, circling the windows that gaped down at the woods around them like empty eyes. There in the incredibly large clearing, lay the castle. The haunted castle of The Land of Night. The forbidden castle.

Violet ducked her head, lifting her cloak's hood to cover her face, as she slowly passed through the thinning trees, and then under an arch dripping with weaving plants. Everything was silent there, as if it really was a home to ghosts. The castle's heavy gate was smashed to the ground. The once admirable moat that surrounded the castle was now dried and filled with garbage. Violet felt a pang of loneliness. The castle was such a desolate place. She knew not why any creature would have the desire to live there.

The sudden sound of hurried footsteps startled Violet. She backed up slowly against the inner wall of the fallen gate, tightening the cloak around herself.

A pair of two magi came into view, their long clothes flowing like shadows behind them. "Who goes there?" said the one on the left. The one with short dark hair.

Violet tried to regain herself. "I-I am Violet of Felbourne. The witch of A'dak brings a hastened message to the Waldroms." She bowed deeply, revealing her soiled face as the hood fell from her head.

The sorcerer on the right, the one with dark auburn hair, stepped forward. "Pray tell, what is this important message?" Violet couldn't tell if he was being facetious or earnest.

"The Royal Guard has come to new terms. They plan on wiping out each of your stationed witches and sorcerers, in secret. Bartha the Witch has already... been killed. Ysmay the Witch and her husband are close to their deaths as we speak. I do not know who will perish next, but alas! We must take action and avoid these carefully planned attacks - before there is nothing left to avoid them with." Violet clutched her pounding chest with both hands, her breath quick and light. She begged the men with her eyes. Surely they would succumb to her pleas. And perhaps then she would be capable of avenging her dear Bartha.

The man with auburn hair laughed, mocking her feeble speech. But the one with dark hair glanced at his partner anxiously. Nevertheless, both men turned their backs, cloaks whipping behind them in the sudden movement. They gestured for Violet to follow them towards a small side-door that hid under a roof of thickly curled ivy. They slipped through the door. Violet followed, her eyes darting in fear.

Darkness enveloped them swiftly. Something grabbed onto Violet's hand, and began to drag her towards a row of softly flickering candles that lined up against the passageway's stone walls.

The men continued to guide Violet down the winding halls, past several bolted doors, and then into a large room filled with ancient pillars. A table stretched out across a long scarlet rug, and seated at the head of this table was a man in a dark maroon cloak, his clothes made of satin and his long white beard trimmed neatly, tied with a prim silk ribbon.

Violet watched as the two sorcerers on either side of her crouched down on one knee, their heads nearly touching the cobblestone below them.

"Kneel!" The man with dark hair hissed at her, yanking discreetly on the hem of her breeches. Violet kneeled, narrowing her eyes at the white-bearded man as he rose from his elegant chair.

"Who is this young man you've brought to me on such short notice, Bryce?" The old man inquired.

The sorcerer with auburn hair slowly lifted his head, but remained on one knee. "A young woman, sir. Her identity is unbeknown to us, but she brings news of two deaths among our stationed witches. She comes straight from A'dak with this news. Lady Bartha and Lady Ysmay have supposedly died."

"By our enemy's hand," added the younger man with dark hair, before remembering his place and dipping his head even lower than before.

"I see." The bearded man began to pace slowly, his wrinkled hands folded behind his back. "We shall need to retrieve Lady Eleanor to be sure of this... mysterious matter," he peered down at Violet suspiciously.

There was a length of tangible silence, before the bearded man finally spoke again. "Rise, and be on with yourselves. Take the young lady to a spare chamber and set someone to guard her." The old man waved his wrinkled hand, shooing them from his presence.

The two men stood, leading Violet along the dark passageways once again.

Violet could not help but feel as if she were being led into her prison. For such a seemingly honorable quest, the Waldroms had an aura set in cold stone. Quite literally.