Promises of Glory

“Regardless of the weather, regardless of the change in the air, I find that the world is never different.”

-The First World of Mine by Joan of Lyllis

Birds chirped, a harsh reminder of the sudden shift in seasons. It was fall, almost winter in the human realms. But it had been weeks now since her arrival. Weeks since she disappeared under Livinus’ nose. She sighed in bed, the thought of him bringing up heartache. Perhaps she would miss her first winter solstice with Livinus. Perhaps she would still be stuck here. Just for all eternity. Maybe Livinus would show up with an army and whisk her away.

It was noon before anyone came to rouse her.

With dreary eyes and a lack luster amount of energy, she got up and started the day. She dressed into the latest Fae fashion (which was a lot less classy and stuffy than upper class human fashion). It was a flowy fabric, thin and breezy, a blue that matched the sky in the spring. The bodice was heart shaped and the dress had a lovely empire waistline.

A knock came out the door, she was sitting on the edge of her bed, waiting for something to happen. Alys breezed in, an air of grace in her wake., following her was two maids, ready to do anything their mistress beckoned them to do. “How are you this morning?” She opened the window in a flurry of motion, letting in the morning noon wind. Her grandmother wore a similar gown, but the colors were that of the autumn weather, and the waistline was lower than Rhode’s. Alys smelled of citrus and young quaker trees.

Rhode ran a hand down her face, “It’s noon.”

“So?”

“It’s not morning.”

“It practically is,” her grandmother responded. With a thought she replied again, “It’s morning somewhere, besides, I really don’t keep track of time.”

She supposed that was the immortal thought process, to lose track of time and years as you surpassed it all in age and wisdom. Rhode slid from the bed, her feet hitting the warm stone floor, a weird feeling, far different from her own home. She flashed then to her old home, where she lived with her mother. The cold stones in the winter, the hellfire temperature stones in the summer. The smell of stew wafting into the air. Rhode gripped her chest just as the claw like grip of longing tugged on her heart.

“Rhode, are you okay?”

She blinked, and it was gone. The phantom hand faded as the memory receded. She turned her attention to her grandmother, a face so distant from hers. She couldn’t even see her mother in her. She smiled, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Another blink passed.

“I just wanted to wish you good morning as I won’t be able to meet you all day. I will be stuck in meetings all afternoon and preparing for a party this evening.” Alys reached down and kissed the air beside the girl’s head with a quick hug. “I’m so sorry but I’m going to miss you all the while. I’ll bring you a present just to show you how sorry I am. What would you like?”

The girl thought about it, remembering the things she enjoyed so long ago. Her mother was the first thing that popped into her head, but even a Fae was not strong enough to bring the dead back. But soon her mind was filled with sunny afternoons spent hunched over tables as her mother and her were delicately pricking needles into cloth, making patterns with the string. “Needle work, I think it’s called. Where you make designs using colorful string.”

Alys smiled softly, “A real lady you are. I’ll have a maid get started on preparing stuff for you.” She turned to a maid that had followed her in and gave the woman a nod. After that she left in a flurry of motion. Rhode watched her leave, feeling no sense of grief at her absence.

Rhode smiled as her figure disappeared and the maids had been shooed. She didn’t need anyone around her to watch her every move. The idea of that made her think of her brother, about why she ran away from him. But she shook her head before she got too deep into memories and carried on.

Then, when everyone was gone and she was alone, Rhode dropped the happy look and relaxed into a more easy expression. She slid out of the room, gazing down the long hallway, making sure the way was clear.

She tiptoed her way back to the staircase, being careful not to step on the hem of her dress. The thing was slightly too long for her short stature. Rhode crept up the attic stairs quietly, holding the door so it did not squeak. She supposed out of all the skills she had, being able to slip into rooms without the doors squeaking was her favorite. Even more than needlework and tight-rope walking. Though, the tight-rope walking was something she wasn’t very good at, all in all.

The door clicked shut and she was off, setting out to tear the attic apart until she found something.

A glint of light caught her eye, she turned, the old, wooden vanity stood off to the side, seeming to be in a different place than before. Like it was farther from the door. She squinted at it before moving towards it.

The vanity was in more tatters than the first time she saw it, like someone had tried to throw it out the window only to haul it back up here. Rhode dragged a hand across the surface, finding it come away clean. “Hmmm,” she mused to herself, “interesting.”

She pulled open a drawer, and another, and another, but found nothing. She was about to slam the whole thing into the wall when something whispered for her to try again. It was an odd sensation, like the voice was directly in her mind. She pulled open the large drawer in the middle to find a small folded piece of paper, something that wasn’t there the first time she looked.

Lavender hit her nose hard, perfume her brain clarified for her. Rhode held up the paper to her nose, sniffing hard only to pull away roughly. “Ugh, that’s way too strong.” She considered setting the paper back down and having nothing to do with it. She had a hero to wait for, she had no time to be getting into things that didn’t involve her.

The paper begged to be opened though.

So she pulled it open, the wax seal broke easily. She pulled the paper out, reading as quickly as she could- which was very slow seeing as how she had little education.

They want my child, it has yet to be born, and yet they feel the destiny of it to be great. I ask about choice and freedom, but they turn me away. They say that my child will be great, that it will give them the crown, but in the end, all that they are saying is that it will be a pawn. I do not want that for my child, I want this child to choose its destiny. I think it’s a boy. He’s very active, I feel him. He moves a lot, I think he will grow up strong. I hope he will grow up stronger than I ever was.

Rhode paused, thinking through the magic and the words, but mostly the mention of the crown. The pieces started to click together. The girl started to formulate a plan, it seemed that Livinus wasn’t on his way anyway (not that waiting for him was a good plan anyway), and ran out of the attic. Her foot slipped halfway down, as she took in the crowded hallway and lost her footing.

Her face soon met the soft embrace of a bodice as she tumbled down the last stair. Rhode pushed herself from the body that she landed against, looking up she spied the face of a maid. “Sorry,” she quietly said.

The maid huffed and spun on her heel, briskly walking away.

“Rude.”

She didn’t dwell on it though, there were more important things to do. But first things first, she needed paper.