In Her Element

“I woke up in Matthew’s arms to find us at the foot of the grand staircase, Matt presumably about to take me up to my room. Miss Lisle, my tutor and dearest companion, was hovering anxiously. Thankfully, Mother was out, or she too would be breathing down poor Matthew’s back as well.

I was about to tell Matthew that I was fine, when I felt, rather than heard, someone dashing down the stairs. Then, I heard Frederick’s frantic voice calling my name. Truly, it was frantic, worried. He had seen Matthew coming up the walk with me in his arms, and was concerned at the thought that I might be unconscious or worse, dead. I wonder if perhaps I was wrong about him….

“Almyra! What has happened to her? Is she terribly hurt? Is she all right?”

I kept my eyes closed in the pretense that I was still out cold. I was perversely enjoying hearing Frederick lose himself like this, especially over me. He came right up to Matthew, and the light behind my eyelids suddenly went out as Frederick leaned over me.

I willed myself to relax, to be limp in my brother’s arms, as Frederick’s fingers moved to my face, hesitantly stroking it.

At first I was angry. How dare he touch me, especially when I was unable to defend myself! But then, I felt something different, something foreign, in the pit of my stomach; I don’t know what it was. It scares me!

Matthew carried me to my room after reassuring Frederick that I had merely fainted and would come to soon enough. Miss Lisle, the Goddess bless her soul, tried to undress me to put me in a nightdress, but Matthew told her to leave me be, to let me sleep.

But I cannot possibly sleep! I am now sitting in my bed writing this. What I saw in the forest—“

There was a sharp tap on the window, causing Almyra to jump. Her hand jerked, drawing a sharp line across the page, ripping through it.

She shut her diary, hands trembling, and hung on to it as one drowning might hold on to a proffered hand—as though it could save her. Fearfully, she raised her eyes to the figure that stood there motionless in front of her, towering over her; she recognized the creature—being—that had appeared in the forest.

Almyra opened her mouth to scream, as anyone sensible person would at the materialization of a stranger in their bedchamber, but she suddenly found herself with no breath to draw. She slid off the bed and fell to her knees, grasping, clawing, at her throat, when it opened. She pulled herself onto her bed, and lay there spread-eagle, gasping to fill her lungs with much-needed oxygen.

“I do apologize for my sudden appearance, my daughter,” the voice emitted by the person—as she surmised it was by the fact that it had the capability of speech—was mild, and a bit amused, which upset her that he thought her loss of breath was laughable, “but having my presence known to anyone other than you would not bode well.”

He—obviously male by the sound of the voice—seemed to glide forward to her bed, and loomed over her while flipping off the hood of his cloak. His hair, so light it was practically white, was slicked back, with a stray curl here and there that refused to be tamed. His complexion, like his hair, was extremely pale, but on him seemed to look healthy. A cloak of midnight-blue with purple and gold trimming fell from his broad shoulders and encased his entire body; the hood had fallen and lay on his back.

Almyra met his eyes; they were a deep and dark brown, so dark they might have been black. They were smiling and serious at the same time, as though it depended on who or what they were looking at.

She suddenly realized she was still lying on her back. She shot back up into a sitting position. “Who are you” she demanded.

I am the King, Father of all beings, since the Beginning. Almyra’s eyes opened wide. He was speaking in her head! Should you ever require me or my aid, child, we are connected, you and I, and you need only call out.

He stretched his hand towards the mark on her neck, and when he touched it, she felt it tingle and in the corner of her eye, saw a slight glow the shone on to her shoulder. In her mind, she seemed to simultaneously hear, feel, and see a beautiful melody play, an experience that left her in awe, and an experience she wished she could lock away forever. You will know how, should the time ever come.

He bent over and kissed her forehead. Upon straightening, he flashed her a smile, before vanishing in a flash of light, and leaving only a beautiful, flawless flower—a lilac, not yet bloomed—on the pillow that she was leaning against, in close proximity to her head.

Almyra sat up straight now and picked up the blossom in her left hand. She focused, and the lilac opened slowly and gracefully, its petals unfurling in a slow, sensual dance. It was breathtaking in its perfection, and she rubbed the smooth petals between her fingers. She reached into the flower and she knit her brow as her fingers touched something hard.

Her frown turned to a smile of wonder when she pulled out an intricately carved purple stone, an amethyst, hanging from a long gold chain made from hundreds of minuscule links.

She gently hung it around her neck, loving the way it fit snugly in the curve between her breasts. She fondled it, then slipped it off and wrapped it in a piece of thick material before placing it deep in a draw by her vanity table.

She checked her reflection to make sure she was presentable, and went to find Matthew