The Forgotten Princess

By the next morning, I had reached the city. I didn't travel by the roads, to avoid any chance encounters, otherwise I would have been there earlier. When I walked into the city square, the first thing I noticed was the crowd of girls in it's center. The second thing I noticed was man the standing at the circle's center. Jonathan, of course, and wearing his armor and everything. What a fine day this was starting out to be. How had he gotten here so fast, and before me?
"Okay, ladies," I heard Jonathan say, "I'm on a journey to find The Forgotten Princess. If you are among us, princess, show yourself!"
I almost laughed out loud at the way all the girls started to scream that they were who he was searching for. Of course they all wanted to be The Forgotten Princess, they would get to marry a prince and live in a castle. They would be set for life.
Jonathan sighed. "You can't all be her."
I almost shouted, "Duh!"
"We'll just have to see which one's fit the profile. Line up, please." Jonathan indicated where he wished them to stand.
I walked to the shadows of a house, I would sell my shells to the merchant's stalls later. This was Omatara, after all, one of the largest cities in the kingdom. There were venders everywhere, the stalls lined the streets and outlined the square. There were so many smells mixed into the air, from baked bread to leather. There would be many people interested in buying the rare and beautiful shells that I offered from the ocean. That could wait until after I finished watching these girls attempt to pretend at being me.
The girls formed a line, and I watched as Jonathan looked them all up and down. The pig, he was probably enjoying this. I was surprised though, to see no trace of a smile on his face. He stepped back.
"I cannot determine based on looks, because no one knows what she looks like," Jonathan said.
"Well, wouldn't she be a thing of great beauty?" asked the prettiest of the girls, flipping her blond hair over her shoulder. "She was raised by the mermaids after all."
Jonathan shrugged. "We can't be sure all the same. No one's seen her, how can we know?"
"Well, do you even know her true name?"
I listened carefully for this answer, it was good they didn't know what I looked like, but if they knew my name....
"No," Jonathan shook his head, "We don't know her name. She ran away long ago and her parents became so angry they made themselves- with magic- forget all the details. They only remember one thing, that she had inherited a magical ability from her mother. That's all we have to go on right now, that and she'd be seventeen now."
I couldn't stop the little part of me that had longed to see my parents since I ran away all those years ago from feeling sad, and my stomach clenched. They had been angry with me, not sad. Did this mean they didn't love me, not now, not even when I had been little? They hadn't missed me? They had been so angry that they made themselves forget....Not so sad, or so scared, or so worried.....Angry. They really hadn't loved me.
I pulled my mind from these thoughts, it was bringing back too many memories. Memories that should remain locked in the back of my mind until later, when I was ready to face them. In the meantime, I directed my attention back to the scene in the square.
"So you're going to have us do magic?" asked one girl.
"Yes." Jonathan made a gesture for the girl at the far end to step forward. "You can go first, if you do even the simplest of magic, and if you are seventeen, I'll bring you with me." Jonathan snapped his fingers. "Wait, I remembered something. According to the prophecy, she also had a beautiful voice. So, you will also have to sing."
I was starting to feel sympathy for the girls, they had to do all these things in front of a crowd. I noticed several girls slip out of line, obviously they knew that in at least one of these aspects they would fail. By the time they were ready to begin, only two girls remained. The blond who had spoken earlier, and the one who had asked about magic. The blond went first.
"My name is Crystal," she sang, "And I am seventeen."
There were two aspects taken care of, she could sing quite well, and did appear seventeen. Now she just had to do magic. Crystal bent to the ground and placed a finger in the soil.
"Grow!" she said, and a small daisy grew from the ground.
As the crowd clapped, she withdrew her finger and placed it behind her back. Not before I noticed, though, that it was glowing a fiery red. So, it took quite a bit of magic just to do that simple spell? Of course I recognized the spell, it was a fairly common one. You did your special movement, or whatever you had to do, spoke the trigger word, 'grow', and pictured what it was you wanted to grow in your mind. I'm so good at it, I can produce a fully grown maple tree and only have my lips flooded with heat, but still not so much that they glow. (Almost, but still not enough. It takes something really hard to make my lips glow. My lips do get hot enough from doing this that I can melt wax, though.) The fact that her finger was fiery red, which is extremely hot, shows one thing. She wasn't a very powerful magician.
Next, the girl who had mentioned magic stepped forward.
"My name is Latrissa, and I, too, am seventeen," she sang. Her voice was pretty, not as good as Crystal's, though.
Next, Latrissa plucked one hair and placed it in the soil.
"Grow!"
This time a flower didn't spring up, but a small tree. The audience clapped, and Latrissa gave a nod of her head to them. I noticed that while before Crystal's finger had glowed after she performed magic, Latrissa's earlobe is what glowed for her. Her glow was not as bright as Crystal's, whose finger had turned fiery red, but was instead a dark shade of orange. This showed that while, yes, her magic skills are greater than Crystal's, hers still weren't very powerful. The powers I had inherited were from a powerful bloodline of magicians, and while my mother had not inherited the gift, I had. If what I heard was true, I was also the last of that bloodline. My grandmother, the only others with this blood, had died years ago.
The bloodline intermingled with that of the elves, expert spell weavers. This is why the gift is so strong, because I am part elf. The line had started with my great-great grandmother, who was a full blooded elf, that had fallen in love with a human. They had a child, who then had my grandmother, who had my mother, who had me. So, I am a little over six-percent elf. It's not much, but it makes a big difference. Other human spell casters have no where near the power I do, since their powers weren't inherited from the blood of elves, but of nymphs or some other magical creature that has little magical power. The fact that I'm part elf, and that I have had fighting, and magical training from them, the mermaids, the dwarves, and even the only dragon I'd met had taught me a spell I rarely use, makes me actually quite powerful. I may not know the most power spells of every race, but I know a mix of just about every race's magic, so I could probably counter whatever the most powerful spells are by using a spell from another race. And believe me, the races rarely ever show their magic spells and abilities to anyone. I am the only person who has this mixture of knowledge.
"Well," Jonathan's voice brought me back to the present, "I suppose you both qualify. You have beautiful voices, are both seventeen, and have a magical ability. Looks like you'll be traveling with me for a while. We'll head for the next village tomorrow, to continue our search. When we reach the castle, we'll determine who truly is The Forgotten Princess. For now, pack your belongings and we'll meet here in the morning.
The two girls scurried off, and I wondered for a moment why no one in the town told Jonathan that they weren't really the Princess. Surely the fact that they had parents would prove their accusations false? And why were they heading in the same direction? Were they sisters? My curiosity was spiked enough that I followed them, and discovered why no one had questioned them on the matter, and why they went to the same place. They lived in the capital city's orphanage. They were orphans, so no one knew where they came from or who their parents were. They had probably been found on the orphanage doorstep, or wandering lost in the woods, or something, a few years ago. So who was to say they hadn't lived with mermaids at one time? No one could prove their accusations false.
I stopped following them, my curiosity subsided. I didn't need to know more about these girls, they needn't concern me. One of them may even be believed as the Princess if she tries hard enough. That would just help me, the sooner the matter is resolved, the better.
I walked back to the market square, and found an open vender that would most likely buy my shells. I didn't really need the money, I could live off nuts and berries well enough. (Berry bushes are easy to grow.) It was nice to have some fresh bread and milk, though. They went well with the berries I grow, which were the sweetest you'd ever taste. I do not eat fish or meat, I think the elves and mermaids had something to do with that. I am, after all, part elf, and I'd lived with fish most of my life.
After collecting my coins from the merchant, I bought a loaf of bread and a bottle of milk. I placed the bottle of milk firmly in the cloth bag, making sure it was closed tight so it wouldn't spill, and the bread loaf on top of everything so it wouldn't be squished. On my way out of the town, I ran into someone as I turned a corner to follow the road into the woods.
"Sorry!" the person said. It was a male voice I recognized.
Jonathan turned around, and stood stunned when he saw who it was.
"What are you doing here?" he managed to say.
I played the innocent market girl. "What? Do I know you sir?"
"Yes! Remember? We met in the woods, three or for days ago. You left in the middle of the night, leaving me with a shell." He smiled. "Surely you remember, I had my blade against your throat."
I blinked. "Well, sir, if we truly know each other, what is my name?"
I grinned as he nibbled on his lip in concentration. Ironic, isn't it? He had forgotten the name of The Forgotten Princess, the very person he was seeking. This duke, or whatever he is, obviously doesn't pay much attention to wandering peasants he comes across in the night. I don't blame him really.
Jonathan sighed in defeat. "Okay, I don't remember your name, but it is you. That I am certain of."
"Good day, my lord." I walked past him, and continued down the road to the woods.
He called after me to wait, but I ignored him. I smiled at the last thing I heard him say.
"Weren't you supposed to be heading to Ranglesbury?"