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Authors: Nicole Burr

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“This is where all the meetings and War Councils are held,” Fynn explained.  “The statue in the center represents The Five Laws of Keepers.  Ye will get te know these soon, as we must practice them at all times.”

       He closed the door quietly and they moved directly across the foyer to the door on the right side.  They entered a large blue room with the same high ceiling and long windows but with rows upon rows of carved wooden benches.  At the far end of the room were marble steps leading up to an open platform with ten golden marble chairs bordering the sides and a larger, more elaborate one in the middle.

       “This is the Ceremonial Room.  It’s where we perform all Gifting Ceremonies after a Keeper passes a test, and where all our other formal celebrations are held.  If the occasion is informal or accompanied by a feast we use the Dining Hall.  The eleven chairs are fer the five Great Keepers, the three Elves from the Elders, the Unni-se, the Daughter of the Shendari, when there is one, and the King.  The speaker or presenter fer the event sits in the middle.  Fer Gifting Ceremonies that is always the Great Keeper who is bestowing the reward fer passing the test.  All eleven chairs have not been filled fer a very, very long time.”

       They backed out of the room, their steps echoing in the loud, empty chamber.  “The two corridors on either side of the fireplace lead te many different rooms, including the living quarters of the Great Keepers and representatives from the other races.  I honestly don’t know what all the rooms are fer.  We don’t venture back there.  I have heard that there are supposed te be some hidden rooms that no one knows about except the War Council members.”

       Peeking down the long corridors, Esra was again reminded of the sea.  The walls were made of the large rounded Yanquor Trees, but instead of cutting them flat like the rest of the rooms the Unni had left the Trees in their naturally curved state, giving the hallway the appearance of rolling waves.

       “So that’s the short of it,” Fynn walked her out through the foyer and the large river doors.  “Ye will get te know more about everything over time, but at least now ye won’t be gettin too lost.”

       “Thanks, Fynn.”

       “My pleasure, Es,” he said as he took her hand and gave it a playful kiss. “Time te get ready fer the celebration.  I’ll see ye back at the Dining Hall in two hours.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

XXI

 

 

       After a much needed bath and a few botched attempts to pin up her hair, Esra called in the aide of Nadia. 

       “It’s impossible,” Esra groaned. “I should just cut it all off.”

       “Nonsense,” Nadia laughed.  “Ye just need the help of a Keeper of Hair.”

       She twisted a few chunks of her friend’s thick blonde hair deftly and began to fasten it. “So do ye like the dress?”

       Esra glanced over at the dark blue gown laid across her bed.  After she had finished with her bath she had come into the room to find it waiting for her.

       “Well, whoever is secretly giving me clothes does seem to know my taste,” she admitted.  The dress was of a simple cut, with plain gold trimming around the bottom of the skirt and long sleeves that peaked downwards at her wrists.  The neckline was rounded and less conservative than the dresses she normally wore, dipping to show the tops of each shoulder.  It was a smooth, light material that Esra had never felt before, and the sheen caused the dark blue to shimmer with lighter shades.  A gold cord to tie around the fitted waist and gold ribboned shoes completed the ensemble.

       “It’s yer mother,” Nadia confessed.  

       “What?”  Esra asked distractedly.

       “The one who has given ye all the clothes.  She has been sewing them fer many years.  She took a chance that ye would be tall and slim like she was at yer age, and it turned out to be a good guess.”

       For some reason this struck Esra as a tender scene, the Great Keeper of Destiny sitting in her room, sewing a dress for her lost daughter.  Although it would be the fanciest thing Esra had ever worn, which made her a little uneasy, she was thankful for the gesture.  And also that her mother had known enough not to sew on hordes of lace or bows.

       “I always hated having my hair done when I was a girl,” Nadia admitted, gathering Esra’s hair into her hands.

       “The only time I would tolerate it without complaining was when my grandmother did it.  She had such an engaging and clever way of storytelling, she enraptured me.  Everyone, really.  Elves are known fer their passion of the oral traditions but even the elders had to admit that my grandmother had a special gift.  I would sit by her lap as she would tell me tale upon tale of the history of the Kingdom, about the Unni and Humans and Elves.  There was no topic she would not breach, no territory she would not try to explore with words.

       “There was a story that was my favorite, I would beg her to tell it to me over and over again until it was practically a reality to me.  I would say I had it memorized, but that was the thing about my grandmother, she never told a story the same way twice.  It was about a young girl named Anaya who was born half Bird, half Elf, with soft brown wings that stretched farther than her open arms.  She could not fly, so the Birds did not accept her, and the people of her village shunned her because of her wings.  She was too different.  Anaya was stuck in between two worlds, belonging to neither. 

“There was an accomplished sorcerer in the village, and each day she would go to him and beg fer a cure to her malady.  Something magickal that would make her either Human or Bird, but not both.  And each day he turned her away, saying that it could not be done.  After a particularly difficult day of eating noonmeal alone again after being tormented and teased, Anaya was desperate.  That night she snuck away to climb the mountains and seek the Bird chief, who was rumored to be at the highest peak.  She climbed fer days, eating Nuts and Berries she found along the way.  Finally, at the end of four long days, Anaya reached the highest peak of the mountain.  She could hardly believe her eyes when she saw the Bird chief sitting atop a rock, regally smoothing his feathers.  She stumbled forward and fell before him, tears streaming down her face.  Anaya told him the story of her birth, of her inability to be accepted by the people of her village or the tribes of Birds.  She cried fer him to help her learn to fly or else take pity on her and drop her off the mountain top so she would be gone from this in between world forever.  Fer a long moment the Bird chief stared at her with a mixture of compassion and confusion.  He said to her, ‘Anaya, you have always been able to fly.  You are born of both worlds, and have been given wings.  All you need to do is accept this gift.’  Mystified, Anaya stood up from the rocky ground and finally understood.  She ran from the highest peak of the mountain and jumped, flying off into the clouds.”

       “That’s a beautiful story.” Esra said softly.  “I’m sorry that I never got to meet yer grandmother.”

       “She would’ve loved ye.  There,” Nadia stated with satisfaction as she stood back to admire her work.  “I put yer hair half up so that it’s not so heavy and ye’ll be more comfortable.”

       “Thank ye,” Esra hugged her sincerely.  “I’ll be out in a minute after I put on my dress.”

       “Alright, I need to get dressed as well.”

       As Nadia shut the door softly Esra pulled the supple material over her head and wiggled it downwards.  Just as she had suspected, it fit perfectly.  She tied the cord around her waist, laced up her shoes and went into the wash room, where the only mirror stood.  Looking at her reflection, she was startled to see that the young woman in front of her appeared, well, lovely.  It was not often that she looked in mirrors, vaguely thinking it was a waste of time and energy.  Her hair and clothes would do what they wanted anyway.  But looking at herself now, she noticed a woman who was flushed pink with anticipation, someone who appeared mature and confident. 

       “Ready?”  Nadia called from the hall.

       “Aye.” Esra stepped out to look at her friend, who was wearing a similar material but in a beautiful golden hue that contrasted superbly with her dark skin.  Her curly hair was pinned up with several locks dangling down at various spots, resting on a dress that was well fitted to her petite frame.  It was fuller on the bottom than Esra’s and had dark blue trimmings.  Her shimmering stealth form added to the overall sparkle of her attire.

       “Ye look stunning,” Esra said truthfully.

       “Thank ye.  I must say ye look quite beautiful yerself.  Ye’ll notice a lot of blue and gold outfits as these are the official colors of the Keepers.”

       They stepped out into the cool night air and picked up their skirts to keep the dew from moistening the bottom edges of their gowns.  Esra laughed out loud. 

“I have
never
acted so dainty and ladylike.  Give me just a few more minutes, I’ll fall on my face, I swear.  Do ye normally get to wear things like this in The Veiled City?”

       “Sometimes,” Nadia answered thoughtfully.  “The Elves are a people who love tradition and customs, so there were many celebrations and official gatherings.  As much as I love the freedom of wearing trousers, I always enjoyed getting to be a real lady on certain occasions.  I was scolded more than once when I was young fer wearing my mother’s gowns and prancing about the house.”

       “Do ye miss it?  Yer home, I mean?”

       “Aye, sometimes.  The Jade Gardens are a thing of beauty, but there is also something to be said fer the strong stature of the mountains.  They were like a protective guardian, always watching over me.  As children, Arland and I would love to explore the rocky hillsides and deep caves.  But I know I belong here.  And I visit when I can.  This is not a prison, we can see our families as we please.  Ye will have a bit of an advantage on that end, since both yer parents are already here.”

       Esra gave a nervous smile and Nadia touched her arm in sympathy.  “Don’t worry, they’re good people.  And ye’ll get to see yer grandparents again soon.”

       Esra tried to believe in those words as they continued through the thick Grass.  To her right two Squirrels suddenly appeared, leaping and twirling with each other, their high pitched chatter piercing the air as they played.  A Mondeer doe walked out from behind one of the dwellings, ears perked in anticipation as the white tip of her tail flashed in the fading light.  The Animals here did not seem to mind that they were surrounded by Humans.  In fact, Esra thought that perhaps they regarded her with the same mild curiosity as she bestowed upon them.  Just another creature of The Gardens.

As they approached the main building, their arrival reminded Esra of Sorley on Trader’s Day, the noises and laughter greeting them far before reaching the entrance of the Dining Hall.  Standing outside waiting to greet them were Baelin and Fynn, both in velvety tunics embroidered with swirls of rich vines, appropriate for a representative of the Garden.  Baelin wore a darker gold against his tanned skin and Fynn had opted for the blue with his pale complexion.  Peeking out of Baelin’s left coat pocket was the blue handkerchief with the small golden Sun embroidered in the corner, the gift Esra had given him at Trader’s Day.

       “Oo-da-lah-ly!” Fynn whistled, taking each of their hands to kiss.  “Ye ladies both look absolutely astonishing.”

       “Thank ye,” Esra curtsied playfully.  “And both of ye look mighty handsome as well.”

       “I agree,” Nadia confessed.  Baelin looked over at Esra then back to Fynn, then back to Esra again.  He opened his mouth for a moment and then closed it, turning back to Fynn with a slight look of panic.

       “See, ye’ve made the big beefy one speechless!”  Fynn teased.  “Not that he talks much anyways.  May I?”

       He offered his arm to Nadia, who took it after a pause as they stepped into the hall. 

“Looks like even Fynn will get a lucky break tonight,” Esra chuckled.  Baelin swayed on his feet as he awkwardly offered his arm to Esra, who smiled kindly before linking her arm into his.  She was grateful her old friend would be with her tonight.  Beyond the entranceway awaited many people she had never met, including her own father.

       A wall of noise hit her as they walked into the overflowing Dining Hall, the tables littered with silver goblets and pitchers.  A few people turned to wave or shout a greeting at Baelin, who steered her towards a table at the back left.  Catching a glimpse of Cane, Esra called to her teacher, who nodded back at her pleasantly.  A group at one of the tables in the front started singing an upbeat tavern ballad, causing the merry energy in the hall to swell.

       Nadia and Fynn had already found seats next to Arland, who stood up and beckoned to Esra and Baelin.  He looked striking in a lighter blue tunic that brought out the color of his eyes, his hair falling seductively into his dark face.  His strong jaw softened into a smile as he looked over the young woman before him.

       “Ahoy, Esra!”  He came around the table and gave her a fierce hug.  “Ye look ravishing!”

       “Thank ye,” she said, blushing for what felt like the hundredth time.  “And ye look charming, as always.”

       He laughed at the pun and pointed out a middle aged man at the front of the Dining Hall who was bouncing up and down in an excited fashion, thick blonde hair in a jumbled mess. 

       “There’s someone who’s very excited to meet ye.”

       At that moment the man caught her eye and rushed forward with an eager grin, stumbling over a chair leg.  He hopped on one foot a couple of times, grimacing, then continued to dash towards Esra clumsily.  He encountered some trouble maneuvering around one of the tables, as he appeared to be a stout man, and by the time he reached Esra his cheeks were flushed pink with the exertion.

       “Esra!”  He exclaimed, gathering her up into a strong embrace and kissing her head four times in quick succession.

BOOK: Esra
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