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Knock, knock.
No, there it was again.
I took a few creeping steps forward to the door, and gently opened it - only just a crack, to be greeted by giant white moose of all things. His large velvet antlers bent low, angling to knock on the door once more - his giant frame standing enormous in front of me. Upon noticing the door opening, the huge creature took a slow step back, lowering his head in a stiff but impressive bow - low to the forest floor.
“Dear Prince Lumo - pardon my interruption but I couldn’t help my excitement to see your cabin sport life yet again,” the great beast spoke in a low huffing voice, still in a deep bow, “It has been many moons since you last graced our forest… I wish you would have told us earlier. I would have better prepared for your visit.”
The great white moose then slowly rose - before freezing upon meeting my eyes.
“You are not Prince Lumo…” he huffed, eyes growing wild, “You are an imposter. How dare you wear his clothes -”
As he began to lower his head, ready for charge, I slammed the door closed. There was a rumble in the tiny cabin as the giant moose made impact - but the golden seal at the door held strong.
“You are a fake, a fraud. I will not allow a trickster in my woods,” the moose bellowed before another heavy hit landed against the door, sending a cascade of books to fall from the high shelf.
I held my back against the door - completely terrified. Of course, I had opened the door to a mighty forest champion. I had read many stories of such great beasts - protecting their domains with utmost pride - pity on all those who crossed their path with any malintent. They were to be respected - and followed a chivalrous and moral code more than any other wild beast. I searched through my memories - every story I had ever read, searching for any sort of reference I could use.
“Please, please stop,” I begged through gritted teeth - bracing for the next impact, “I am but a - I am but a guest here.”
A guest. It was worth a shot. I was not a mere intruder - but an invited guest.
There was a sudden pause outside the cabin door, and I tensed in anticipation. Had it worked?
“A guest?” the great moose huffed behind the door, “Prince Lumo has never once had a guest.”
“Yes,” I shouted, “I am but a guest - and I doubt Prince Lumo would be happy to hear that I have received such an undignified display of hospitality. You had not even introduced yourself before charging at this door.”
There was another frustrated huff outside.
“I would expect a mighty forest champion such as yourself to have a bit more tact - although I do say such a demonstration of your force and strength was indeed impressive. If I may open the door again, perhaps we can try a more traditional introduction more becoming of a fearsome creature such as yourself?” I said, wincing with anticipation.
I held my ear to the door - listening carefully with fingers crossed.
“Hm…” the beast huffed, “Perhaps I was too hasty in my judgment. However - It was not I who invited you.”
“Do you not trust dear Prince Lumo’s intentions?” I spoke.
There was a pause, and I felt sweat begin to bead at my brow.
“Open the door so that I might see your face. It is undignified to be shouting through doors, especially at this hour,” he finally said.
“Only if you promise to treat me with the same decorum that I have shown you.”
“That is fair.”
And with that, I slowly opened the cabin door, doing all that I could to hide the terror creeping up to my face. I stood tall - emanating the proud stance of a noble lady, or even Limenta’s sordid confidence.
I dared not look away from the black, shining eyes of the great white beast, chin held high. I watched as he pawed a mighty hoof in the dirt - a test to see if I were to flinch, but I held strong.
“I am known as Gaelenod, humble servant and protector of these ancient woods of Yormen. Servant to Solia and follower of Herculea,” he said, slightly lowering his head in polite bow, “And who might you be, if not intruder?”
I considered my choices. To say I was a practitioner of Blood Magic and on the run and I would better yet jump on his antlers and skewer myself. No, I had to be careful with my words.
“I am but a ward of Prince Lumo - who invited me here in the form of a crow. I go by Mira. He should be here soon to explain himself; I assure you.”
“Ah,” Gaelenod nodded. “It is unlike Prince Lumo to take human lovers, but I suppose it was bound to happen one day.”
“Wait, no, I-” I stuttered, but the great beast continued.
“I’d thought the Prince to be more polite than to leave you alone here without even a gown of your own. But I suppose that he is a bit out of practice…” he mused.
“Wait - I… You call me ‘human’ as if that is something he is not,” I interjected despite myself, “Or… or are his tastes not often… human?”
The great beast made a billowing laugh, shaking the leaves off the darkening trees around him.
“Prince Lumo is many things, but human he is not,” Gaelenod huffed softly, “But I do not wish to betray his confidence if he has not told you these things himself. Speaking of so, I should leave now while there is still a sliver of night in the sky. To be at his lover’s door alone in the light of the stars is to ask for trouble, though beast I may be. Goodnight, Lady Mira.”
But before I could protest, the great white moose Gaelenod disappeared in a fine mist, swirling through the distant trees before being swallowed by the growing night. I let the door close behind me, drifting to the wooden floor, trying to get the tension to leave my tightly wound nerves.
The bizarre encounter left me with many things to consider - although being perceived as Lumo’s secret lover made me more embarrassed than anything, I couldn’t help but focus on the ‘Prince’ title he was given by the great forest beast. There was no “Prince Lumo” in any of the stories I had read or any titles matching such in the high courts. I was also unnerved by the prospect that he was perhaps not human. If not human - then what was he? Void beast?
I thought through the possibilities. There were instances of imps and fae that could glamor themselves to appear human - but it was very rare. Those few creatures who did change their form could only do so temporarily and at the cost of losing their own voice. Not only could Lumo speak, but he could cast spells with a single word without hesitation. He was a being of powerful magic - but if not human - then what?
He hid his face - but why?
The highest deemed followers of the Four Guides hid behind veils also, as a sign of dedication to their guardian - whether Tumet, Herculea, Myrot, or Selphena. They did so to match the veils that the guardians wore themselves. But it was only symbolic - they could take off the face covers whenever they pleased.
So why did he cover his face?
He was certainly not Tumet or Myrot - no. I had seen depictions of the masculine half of the four guardians time and time again in etched illustrations in many of my books. Tumet was depicted as the ancient, wise, and blind, with a long gray beard flowing around him as billows of smoke. Myrot of the sea had long white hair, almost touching the floor in most depictions, with silver and pearl armor adorning him head to toe.
I lay on the bed and pulled the heavy covers to my chin. I wondered if Mother or Limenta had realized I was gone yet - maybe convincing themselves that I had taken a vow of silence, barricading myself in my room the entire day. By now, Dearest Mary might have clawed completely through the door when not allowed passage to her designated warm spot on my pillow.
Had the two cloaked figures that Mother let inside told her what I was? Surely, she would not have let them in otherwise. It probably made Limenta’s day - hearing that I was no better than a villain of the Barrens. I surely fit the part after ruining her special day. How fast would they have both turned against me?
It wasn’t long before I fell asleep, letting my eyes finally shut as the heavy blankets held me tight.
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I was in a field again - but this time in the bright light of morning. The morning crickets buzzed their morning hymns as I waded through knee-high golden-brown grass. I let my fingers dance above the spiked wheat tufts as I made my way up a slight incline into a vast, breezy clearing. The wind swelled around me, blanketing me as I stepped forward into a soft, white-sanded beach. Black water stretched far into the horizon, lightly lapping just before my bare feet.
I sat in the velvet sands and took a deep breath of the sea air, salt tingling on my lips. It was then when I heard a noise beside me - a fluttering of wings as a glittering-black crow landed softly at my side, joining me to watch the gentle waves.
It was then that I felt a sudden cold underneath my palm as I raked it through the sands. I looked down to find the small silver chained pin wrapped around my fingers. I held it to the light, watching the filigreed needle and chain dazzle in the bright suns above. As before, holding the delicate chain filled me with a sudden comfort - a primal familiarity.
I looked to the crow, half-expecting the creature to get upset at me for holding such a cursed object. The Binding Chain - the silver instrument used by the Blood mages, practitioners of the forbidden Blood Magic. But the crow seemed unbothered - preening itself with black feathers flicking about with the beach breeze.
As I strung the silver chain through my fingers, letting it flow between my palms like water, I couldn’t help but think of the strangeness of it all. To be born a disciple of Solia was to be born a traitor - the only magic path was that used one’s own lifeblood as a vessel. One’s own existence was an affront to Solia herself - only she had the power to create life - and to destroy it.
Yet here I was - given a path I did not choose, forced to either spend the rest of my entire life in hiding or to join my ill-fated brethren in the Barrens, fighting an eternal war. A mistress to my own circumstance.
I had not yet lived my life - only finding adventure in the stacks of storybooks. Never was I to attend one of the four schools like my peers. Never was I to find a common bond with like-gifted friends, sharing stories of their own craven siblings. There was no schoolhood crush to meet my eyes across the buzzing lecture hall.
No, that was not my path.
I shut my eyes and fell back against the soft sand, letting myself drift. Maybe this was another test for me to fail. Maybe I was supposed to have thrown the Binding Chain deep into the black sea, redeeming myself from this callous existence. Perhaps now the great golden hand of Solia herself, metal claws sharp and menacing, would reach from the clouds and take me herself to pay for my apparent rebellion.
But no, I was only met with the continuous and meditative lapping of waves at my feet - lulling me deeper into my own dream.
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