Wings of Fate: The Lost Ones

Nicolaus watched two blue birds chased each other in boredom, trailing behind in the wake of the group, sometimes rushing ahead. For awhile, he watched them. He watched until they grew tired of the sport and dove straight up through the air, crashing through the branches overhead.

Several green leaves tore away from the branches and spiraled to the ground. Other than the birds thrashing, the only sound was the near silent stepping of horse hooves against the soft leaves scattered across the path.

With one hand on the pommel of his saddle, Nicolaus smoothed a hand along the soft blonde mane flowing down the neck of his gray horse, Zuman. His father gifted the horse to him on his eighth birthday as a surprise for the training he would receive riding a steed instead of a child’s pony.

But then his dad disappeared -- his body decayed somewhere in the miles covering Camelion Kingdom.

Picking at the saddle stitches, Nicolaus considered the situation he was in. He was a runaway – had been for weeks. At times, loneliness threatened to send him home and when those days came about he resisted the urge by talking to Zuman. His horse just shook his head and neighed, though Nicolaus knew the animal had no idea what he responded to.

The three white ladies and Raven all rode solid white horses. Raven told him, as they were getting ready to leave camp, her horse’s name was Rohan. When he asked what the name meant she shrugged and said the horse belonged to the Moirai, which was when he learned the three white ladies had a group name.

They belonged to some kind of group. But I’ve never heard of anything like Moirai before, he thought with a frown, wondering what their purpose was with Raven. When Atropos pulled him out of camp the previous night she asked questions about his mother. She asked if he knew anything about his father’s whereabouts. She asked a lot of questions.

But she was quiet now. Klotho joined Atropos at the head of the group sometime earlier to engage in a muted conversation with her and while their heads were bent together, he watched to see if they glanced at anyone, but neither of the sisters turned around.

Shifting his attention, Nicolaus stared into the dim area beside him, watching and listening for something, or someone, following them. Earlier Logan did the same thing. Occasionally the man would pull his horse to the side, waiting for everyone to pass, before turning back the way they came.

The horse Logan rode was undoubtedly stolen from the castle but Nicolaus shrugged the thought away as being unimportant. What did it matter to him if someone stole from his mother? It meant one less horse for the Queen to use when she sent a force to track them down. And send a force she would.

Nicolaus glanced over his shoulder now, scanning the forest behind them until he found the man riding between the trees, bent over in his saddle and staring at the ground as he moved, looking for tracks.

Nicolaus’ eyes fell on Raven’s face as he turned around again. He had not expected her.

A year ago his mother received a visitor in her council chamber -- a man about his father’s age. Nicolaus got a brief glimpse of him through a hole in the wall he made after finding the secret passageway. After his father went missing, he made several holes all over the castle walls, in fear he would go missing next.

The servants whispered about his father’s disappearance and how it somehow tied in with the death of the ruler of the planet. They whispered the Queen Mother was responsible.

But on that afternoon, when he listened at the walls, his mother and the visitor were not discussing his father. The man told her the fate of the kingdom would ride on the interference of the raven, and if something were not done to change the tide, she would lose her crown and, most likely, her life.

He informed her in a near whisper that within a year she would be required to act. She must send her soldiers out and return with the raven so she could dispense with it at once. If allowed to roam free, he added, it would bond with her son and bring about the end of everything the Queen held dear.

The prophecy said the raven would destroy her, wrest control of power and deliver hope to the lands. None of it made much sense at the time because there wasn’t anyone with enough power to wrest the kingdom from his family as long as there was an heir. But he returned to his room, inching through the passageway, to think about the prophecy -- the consequences of a raven meant to arrive within a year and why it was of such serious import that a strange man would deliver the message to his mother. The fact that his mother talked to the man as though she respected him made Nicolaus nervous.

It was not until a few days ago that he gained some insight into at least part of that old conversation. He spent over a week following the white ladies and the woman who was carried to the castle. Unsure why it mattered, Nicolaus found himself drawn to the woman -- even knowing she was heading towards certain death at his mother’s hands.

The white ladies camped along the wall, hidden within the shadows of the forest, whispering plans to break into the castle. He listened to their conversation long enough to determine their idea of rescue would get them killed, as well as the woman inside.

When he approached with the offer of his services long enough to sneak in and bring the girl out Atropos accepted, nodding her head with a sigh of relief as though expecting him. She barked out a brief description of the girl, though he already knew what she looked like.

“Blonde hair, blue-green eyes, blue pants, and white shirt.”

He stepped away from the women, towards the castle, and glanced over his shoulder as he moved into the shadows, “What’s her name?”

Lachesis answered. “Raven.”

Nicolaus stumbled over his feet. The raven. He had not expected it to be a person, though it made more sense than what he envisioned, and was even more surprised the raven was the woman he was inexplicably drawn towards. He watched her now as she sighed, her thoughts somewhere far away and when Logan glided by, the man looked down at her hands. It was apparent Logan cared for her. He followed her and backtracked to watch her back as though taking personal responsibility for her safety.

Logan stared at her as the fire flit across her face last night. But Raven never looked at Logan. Nicolaus did not know what happened between them prior to Logan showing up at camp but whatever it was seemed to have a lasting effect on her.

The sticky heat was almost unbearable as humidity descended upon them, causing Raven’s hair to plaster against her neck and forehead. Cringing, she tried to ignore the sweat where it ran in rivulets down her spine. The trees stood tall and thick, forcing the sunlight to filter through the leaves to touch the ground below.

The woods were quiet, the only sound being the soft thud of horseshoes striking the ground and the occasional cracking of a twig in their path. Soft green leaves fluttered across the path as they moved resolutely towards Treis-Soarta. The silence was unnerving -- as though something was out of place -- or missing. Raven felt more alone than ever before. When her parents died she was left alone and devastated, and yet -- it hadn’t been as thorough a devastation as being stranded on DeSolar.

Atropos did not mention how long it would be before she would see Austin again and, even though she knew she would be busy, Raven couldn’t help thinking about him. Like her, he was stranded on an isolated planet -- having been forced away from everything they ever knew.

The group moved non-stop all morning. The scenery changed from the sporadic trees dotting the edge of the Queen Mother’s castle, to the wooded area they camped in, to the full-fledged forest they traipsed through now. Earlier, they reached a point in the forest where Lachesis suggested walking the horses, as the trees grew too close for riding.

The lowest branch hung some sixty-feet above their heads and each branch was covered in fat, dark-green leaves, creating a blanket of grass in the air to block out the sun. Because of the lack of sunlight and the closeness of so many trees, the forest grew darker the farther they moved from the border entrance.

Occasionally, a solitary leaf would separate from a branch and float down, spinning in a lazy arch, to the forest floor to become lost amid many others of its kind. Twice those leaves landed on Prince Nicolaus’ head. The second time it happened, Raven smiled as he yanked the offending leaf off to scowl at it.

Above the trees, the wind blew briskly; swaying the canopy of leaves and, for a brief moment, sunlight would illuminate a spot on the ground. The alternation between sunlight and shadow created an illusionary dance of nature, which oft times caught Raven’s distracted gaze.

Those in her group were silent now, like so many students reading in the library back home. Raven found the quiet disturbing. Logan walked behind the others but ahead of her and Prince Nicolaus. He held his right arm away from his body, reins dangling between his fingers as though his horse were an after thought.

Raven figured if the horse decided to go its own way then it would be some time before Logan realized it had abandoned him. She watched the play of muscles in his back as he moved. His shirt, folded and tucked into the waistband of his blue jeans, slapped against his backside and, holding his back ramrod straight, he walked with his head hung forward.

By nightfall they made it through the forest to camp in the Woodlands. Lachesis whispered when she said the word ‘woodlands’ as though it was a sacred place. As they entered the border of the Woodlands, Raven didn’t see anything different from the same land two feet behind them. The trees seemed identical, the air smelled the same, and the grass was just as high.

Lachesis strode beside her as they moved through the trees. “Atropos is trying to get us to where we need to be before it is too dark, but if we move too fast it will cause offense.” She explained.

“Offense to whom?” Raven asked, glancing at her.

“The Woodland Nymph Faeries.” She whispered in answer.

“The Woodland Nymph Faeries.” Raven repeated, monotone.

Lachesis nodded, “Yes. They have lived here in the Woodlands for -- well since forever. Sometimes they will not show themselves, though they are good friends of ours so we should most definitely see them. Well, probably.” She added with a shrug, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Usually, if they are not known to you or vice versa, they will not show themselves but allow the person or people to walk unfettered through the area unless those people do or say something to convince the faeries the travelers mean trouble. If they do not cause trouble, the party just goes on their way never knowing where they were. But if trouble is on your mind -- well, people have been known to never be seen again, which is why some refer to these woods as cursed.”

Raven stared at the Lachesis’ fading features and tried to judge her level of concern so she would know whether she should be concerned as well. Raven could barely see her in the growing darkness. “Cursed.” Raven said in the same tone.

“Oh! But it isn’t, Raven. Truly. The Woodland Nymph Faeries are beautiful and the most sincere beings you will ever meet.”

“Then why do people have instances of ‘never being seen again’?” Raven asked.

“Oh, well, the Faeries are guardians, too, and when you have to guard something, sometimes you have to do things you would not choose to do. Does that make sense?”

The idea of the faeries guarding something was distracting and Raven wondered it was.

“Raven?”

“Yeah, it makes sense Lachesis, th- wow,” she breathed in wonder, “what is that?”

Several yards ahead of them the trees began to glow an incandescent yellow. The glow circled slowly and expanded outwards, covering the land between each tree, ever widening and widening until it faded away at a spot no more than twenty feet ahead of them.

As far into the forest as she could see down their path the glow illuminated the forest floor and hundreds of trees. Raven glanced over at Lachesis, whose skin turned an eerie shade of green and the solid white of her outfit was altered into bright yellow. When Lachesis met her gaze, her lavender eyes were darkened except for the pupils, which reflected the glow. She looked like a demon.

“You are green,” Lachesis laughed in an undertone.

Raven smiled and Lachesis broke into quickly muffled guffaws. “I would not smile like that at the Faeries, were I you,” she laughed.

“Why not?” Raven asked and in answer, Lachesis widened her lips, flashing neon-green teeth. “I see what you mean,” Raven responded in a low laugh.

Lachesis ran a gentle finger against the bruise marking Raven’s right jaw line, before moving her hand to touch the one above her eye.

“Its okay, Lachesis, really.” Raven assured her, pulling away from the woman’s hand. Lachesis nodded as she looked away. Whoever was healing her had not shown their hand at it and so the wounds healed magically. Some things on this cursed planet were easier to believe than others were, such as faeries, she thought with a sardonic twist of her lips. Or magical healing.

Glancing back up the path, Raven allowed her eyes to rest on the leader’s back. Atropos was at the front of the group, Klotho behind her, then Logan, Prince Nicolaus, with her and Lachesis bringing up the rear. As their group continued through the forest, they became ensconced in the golden halo of the night air.

“Glow of Twilight.”

Raven looked at Lachesis, who pulled her horse as close to her right side as she could with the trees pulling closer and closer together. “What?”

“You asked what the glow was,” Lachesis answered, glancing at her, “it’s the Glow of Twilight -- made by the faeries. When the forest begins to turn dark in the twilight, the faeries’ spirits begin to glow. They can, of course, hold the Glow of Twilight at bay in case there are intruders, but if it is unnecessary -- well, the forest becomes daylight again when their spirits light up.”

“So the whole forest lights up?”

Lachesis shook her head. “No, the faeries don’t live all over the forest, just in this one area. If we were to keep walking another mile we would not be able to see the glow.”

Ahead of them Atropos halted in the middle of the path. They each came to stand behind her as a glowing orb of light glided down from one of the trees. Indistinct at first, the ball of light seemed to approach them with caution until it was within a few feet of where they stood.

Raven stared in amazement at the tiniest human-bodied creature she had ever seen.

“What have you learned, Bosnik?”

Nadia sat on her throne in the council chamber with both legs covered in thick, silken layers of a red cashmere dress. Watching the tips of her red slippers bounce beneath the hem of her dress, she waited for her assistant to disclose his findings. The man lay on the floor like a sniveling rat.

Whiny people were bothersome.

Thin strands of short, silver hair fell over his ears, trembling when he spoke. “My Queen, word has just been received the girl is moving through the Pandemic Forest with a group of travelers. They are heading north and will soon be entering the protected region of the Woodlands.” Because his lips were close to the stone floor, his words came out garbled.

Nadia glanced through one of the windows in her sanctuary. The evening light was waning, guiding the surrounding forest into darkness. Soon it would be impossible to see in the forest. On the flatlands and hillside, stretching for miles around her castle, the moon would shine down with a midnight chill, the cool glow touching every blade of grass as though with outstretched fingers. But in the forest, it would be an indelible darkness.

Calculating the distance between her castle and the location Bosnik claimed the girl was, she asked, “Can we stop them before they enter the Woodlands?”

With the girl safe and secured within the castle walls, Nadia finally had a good night’s sleep, without having to worry about the glow of a blade arching towards her heart. For years her sleep had been nightmarish as she waited -- waited -- waited for the prophesized black bird to appear. That it had come in the form of a weak female delighted her to no end. Raven had no idea who she was supposed to be; what she was supposed to do.

But Nadia did.

Before the girl could get her hands near her throat she ordered the execution. Others would not be pleased with her choice for Raven was a wanted woman. But Nadia did not intend to allow the girl to live -- not if she was the prophesized killer.

She spent years waiting for her, but Nadia did not spend the time idle. The ruler got in her way, which was unfortunate, because he was a magnificent man -- virile and dark. His rejection of her repeated romantic suggestions was infuriating but not more than his attempt to stand against her. If he would only have joined her…

Ordering his demise was a painful but necessary choice. When Michael learned of it, though, he railed against her, demanding she release more than half of the soldiers working for her, requiring she dismiss Bosnik and several other of her most trusted men. He forbade her access to castle funds and prohibited her travels.

Ordering her husband’s execution was an easier decision.

For the past several years since their deaths, Nadia amassed an army far surpassing the one the ruler of DeSolar had -- in part because his soldiers were threatened into joining her ranks and in part because her soldiers spent their time recruiting and training civilians. She did not try to deceive herself, Nadia knew how her soldiers ‘recruited’ the new men, but she didn’t care.

Today she possessed close to ten thousand men spread over Camelion land, residing in various homesteads and castles as they trained, readying for the battle she always knew would come. But she was prepared for it.

There was no way those pesky fates could have as many men as she had, for she had them all. When they chose to launch their attack against her, they would learn why the gods should never mess with the Queen Mother. She was lord over DeSolar, the new ruler, and they would bow to her.

The plan would have been easier had the girl not somehow managed to escape her prison. An hour ago she would already have been dead and her head, chopped off by the ax man, would have graced the Queen’s wall as a trophy -- the horror and despair etched in permanence across Raven’s face.

But now the plan was ruined. They would have to devise a way to retrieve her.

Nadia watched the clouds drift by through one of the rectangular windows in the council room. Touching her chest, she rested a hand over her heart in a pantomime of protection. With a hard swallow she acknowledged tonight, at least, the terror would return to her dreams.

“No we cannot stop them before they enter the Woodlands.” Bosnik answered, interrupting her thoughts. “They would have already entered those woods before the message reached us.

Two of our scouts were sent but they are outnumbered by the girl’s group. We can capture the girl and kill the others -- our chances are a bit slimmer than we would like because…” he hesitated and she glared down at the quivering bones beneath the gray tunic he always wore.

“Because what, Bosnik?” she asked angrily. She didn’t care what the odds were, she just wanted that girl.

“Because one of our own is with them.” He murmured.

Nadia’s head jerked up as she stared down at him in unthinking fury. “I told you she had to have had help from one of our own.” She bit out.

“Yes, my Queen, you were correct.”

“Well, who is it? Denish? Franklin? One of the younger, newer recruits who could be swayed by a pretty face?” she demanded, picturing all the newer recruits, trying to figure out which one could have committed treason against her.

“No, my Queen. It was -- Logan.”

“Logan?” she whispered, thinking about the beautiful bald-headed man who showed up many years ago. He was one of her most unflinching and loyal soldiers. How could he have turned against her? Anger lit her insides, sending blood boiling through her veins. She took him in! He came to her claiming to have lost his memory -- claiming to have no clue as to where he came from.

His eyes sold her on him, those soulful dark brown eyes, because they reminded her of the chocolate treats bought off of the Elvin trade boats. To earn his favor she put her best men in charge of his training, made certain his name was suggested for promotions within the ranks. How could he do something to bring her to death?

He could not have known, she reminded herself. It did not lessen her fury. He was in her castle for a long time -- for years! Had he been a spy the entire time? She wondered, nervous, and tried to remember what all the man might know, what he might have overheard. She trusted him!

She glared down at the back of Bosnik’s head and snarled at him. “Tell the scouts to kill them all. Bring me the girl and send Clarissa to me.” When Bosnik hesitated she bellowed at him. “Now!”