Authors: Lisa Ann Brown
“I’ve brought along a friend, Elemental, and I hope he will be able to travel to see you as well!”
The Elemental turned his gaze toward Zander. The bearded tree creature peered intently into Zander’s astute green eyes. The Elemental nodded solemnly.
“He may join us,” he decided and the golden rope split instantly into two separate coils. One coil slithered magically toward Arabel and the other toward Zander. Arabel uttered a quick mental goodbye to Ira as the bird flew up to the top of the crooked spike to await their return from the tree dimension.
Arabel felt the familiar rush of travel and the dirt in her lungs. Zander sputtered in confusion as they entered the tree root, the dark inter-dimensional waiting place. Arabel was relieved to feel no panic this time and she waited patiently for the Elemental to claim them. Telepathically she relayed to Zander the process by which they gained access to the Elemental’s sky realm and shortly thereafter, the blinding light flashed suddenly and Arabel quickly shut her eyes against its retina-blinding glare.
When she re-opened her eyes, Arabel was pleased to see the tree creature had fetched them and she stepped out once again into the white sky realm of beauty and peace. Arabel breathed deeply of the enchanted air and saw the wonder and delight she felt mirrored in Zander’s eyes as he viewed the oak groves for the first time. The Elemental towered over them and so he sat, oddly nimble despite his large, flowing frame, and now his black-pooled eyes were at equal height as the humans.
“Tea?” the Elemental inquired solicitously, to which both Arabel and Zander nodded assent. Instantly, two ancient looking teacups filled with steaming honey, jasmine and mint appeared in the Elemental’s large, tree-limbed hands. He offered them to his guests and they each gratefully took a cup.
Arabel inhaled the fragrant scent and was content to sit for a moment, simply enjoying the calm vista and serene ease of companionship.
“What place is this, sir?” Zander queried the Elemental.
“’Tis the Glen of the Cloudless Dawn,” the Elemental replied proudly.
“You possess an almost completely impenetrable layer of magic here,” Zander proclaimed in astonished regard.
The Elemental nodded sagely. “I am the Elemental; the last one. When I am gone, the forest will not have this layer, this magical safety.” The great creature sighed sadly, a somewhat disturbing, gusty-blustery sound amongst the quiet serenity.
“Have all of the old ways been lost then, sir?” Zander questioned respectfully.
The Elemental nodded slowly. “I am the tree-blood, both the seed and the tree. I am the root of the forest; destroy me and you destroy the protection we offer.”
“Can we not assist you, Elemental, in continuing on your tradition? Is there no way to restore your lineage?” Arabel felt a strong yearning to comfort the tree being who had been a dear friend of her mother’s. “Tell us what must need to be done!”
The Elemental fixed his penetrating, great black eyes upon Arabel. “Have you completed the earlier task I set upon you, small human? You have destroyed the shield of death?”
Arabel nodded. “Yes, sir. Two shields have thus been destroyed and we have captured many of the forces of darkness. We still seek the leaders of the dark forces, but we are closing in on their ranks, I assure you.”
The Elemental said nothing but continued to peer at Arabel. She felt the tendrils of the tree being searching her mind, much as she experienced the mental probing from Xavier.
“You have suffered a loss,” the Elemental said gravely, after some time of silence.
Arabel felt tears prick her eyelids, immediately. She nodded.
The Elemental reached out his long tree arm and enclosed Arabel’s form within it.
“Be at peace, daughter of Vio-letta,” the Elemental murmured and Arabel felt the last vestiges of her lingering sadness disperse into droplets of acceptance. The disturbed edges of her heart smoothed out, levelled off, and Arabel felt a long awaited serenity enclose her in a softly humming nest of comfort. The Elemental released her and Arabel sipped her tea slowly, grounding herself in the new contentment.
Zander watched the exchange intently. He was determined they must help the Elemental.
“You have seen many of the skirmishes between our forces and those of the Dorojenja, have you not, sir?” he asked.
The Elemental nodded ruefully. “I have witnesses many battles, seen many slain, and the visions of what is imminent speak to me of further such instances.”
“More war is to come, then?” Arabel asked quietly.
“The time has not yet come when peace will be restored. Although fractions of previously trapped light are making themselves now known, will it be enough? Well, that is what we shall soon see!” the Elemental answered implacably.
Arabel finished her tea and set the cup down on a small table that magically appeared at her elbow exactly when she needed it. She laughed in delight. “I would that I could manifest physical objects with such ease!” she enthused and the Elemental smiled at her easily.
“Return when the darkness has gone and I shall teach you this small magic,” he offered.
“That would please me, sir!” Arabel replied earnestly. She let her eyes travel upward, to the endless white sky, the vast dome of light overhead. She sighed in sweet relief. The peace was palpable in this realm and Arabel could almost feel the essence of her mother here. She revelled in the soft delicate energy of Violetta; it was as if she could feel the beat of her generous heart and the warmth of her loving arms.
Zander felt the drowsy contentment of the tea saturating his system and he breathed in deeply of the enchanted air. The gleeful sound of nearby birds was the only noise his ears detected and he felt the heavy stresses of his mind give way to the free-flowing ease of the Elemental’s white sky realm.
“It will be hard to leave this enchanted place,” Zander reflected with a small sigh. “I dare say, I could fall asleep, I am so relaxed!”
Arabel laughed. “Dear Elemental, you will think us rude, to be falling asleep during our visit!”
The Elemental smiled back. “You might rest awhile, small humans. The tea is a calming blend; it does tend to make one sleepy. I will turn back the hands of time so you will lose no part of your day.”
“Turn the time back?” Arabel inquired sharply, her attention focused once more.
The Elemental nodded. “I possess the gift of bending time,” he replied. “Rest now, daughter of Vio-letta, and I shall show you upon your waking.” The Elemental clapped his hands and both Arabel and Zander were instantly asleep.
Arabel knew she was sleeping and yet she was conscious of her physical location. The quality of the slumber was unlike anything she had ever experienced prior. This sleep felt glorious, somehow limitless, it felt nourishing and delicious. Arabel felt herself smiling and she was certain she laughed out loud, at least once, in sheer delight.
And then she went deeper, into a cotton-wrapped world of muffled purple and white energy, a soft bouncing dimension of light and reflected color. Joy coursed throughout Arabel’s veins and her head and body were imbued with a blissful, twisting cord of sensory well-being.
The slumber seemed to go on forever. Arabel gave herself to it entirely; she held nothing back as she revelled in the ease of surrender. She thought she heard Zander laughing and she smiled and lost herself in the moment.
And then, it changed.
Arabel saw herself standing outside of a small, faded blue cottage. The cottage was dark and hidden deeply within the foreboding and gloomy forest of monstrous and ancient trees. Which haunted forest this was, Arabel couldn’t be quite sure. But everywhere she looked, tall, green giants crowded up to the reach the sky; they groped and competed with each other for the highest peak, the bushiest of branches and the most extensive of root canals. The massive trees had been there long before the first settlers landed in The Corvids, Arabel would wager.
The forest was indeed old and the cottage not much its junior, judging by the drab and peeling paint and the neglected air its shabby exterior exuded. Arabel walked toward the cottage on a long row of stone steps laid within the grassy carpet of the forest floor. The scarce view of the sun began to sink into the sky; the hazy glare of the white-yellow orb descended quickly, leaving darkness in its wake.
The cabin was a one-story structure with a smoking, stout chimney stack protruding out of the matted roof. There were large bushels of numerous and varied flower offerings at the front door and what also looked like candles, foodstuffs and knitted blankets. Arabel approached curiously.
Should she have brought a token of respect, she wondered? There were no windows that Arabel could see but the door magically swung open at precisely the moment Arabel’s light step reached the cottage entrance.
The old Gypsy woman with the gnarled hands who’d read Arabel’s palm stood there. Her sharp black eyes surveyed Arabel with interest but no surprise.
“Hello, Paloma,” Arabel said easily, brushing past the old Gypsy and stepping into the cottage briskly. Inside the room, Arabel marched up to the figure standing pensively in front of the peat fire.
“Hello, Grandmother,” Arabel said.
Amelia Bodean smiled briefly at her granddaughter. “I knew it was only a matter of time before you would locate me here.”
“What is going on?” Arabel demanded.
“Paloma and I have been trying to reason with Saul’s forces. It has not gone well. He won’t see her, his own mother, and most folk are too frightened to go up against the Dorojenja.”
Paloma broke in. “We have tried to balance the old fortunes,” she said sadly. She shrugged philosophically. “There is much resistance.”
“Did you know my father was a spy for the Gypsies? That he risked his life infiltrating the Dorojenja?” Arabel questioned, eyeing her grandmother thoughtfully.
Amelia Bodean did not answer Arabel’s question either directly, or immediately. She stared, instead, at images she viewed beyond her granddaughter’s physical form, as she delved into a past where the stubborn ghosts that would not die haunted her as surely as the sordid old tale itself. Her voice sounded far away and Arabel moved in closer to better hear her.
“My world ended when Raoul Porchetto told me my husband was the lover of his wife,” Amelia Bodean began softly. “He swore to destroy my family as he said his had been compromised. He gave me one chance to avenge my name; one opportunity to keep the life of my unborn child safe from his wrath. If I wanted my family to remain untouched, I must poison my husband to punish him for his actions. Porchetto would, of course, supply me with the necessary fatal potion, but I must be the one to administer it to Markus Leon. I was forced to watch him suffer, compelled blindly to bring upon the end his life, if I wanted to protect my unborn child.”
Amelia Bodean bowed her head; she shut her eyes as she paused. The room was eerily silent as Arabel waited intently for her grandmother to resume speaking. After a tense moment, Amelia Bodean appeared to collect herself; she steadied her voice and continued with her sad disclosure.
Arabel said nothing, but held her breath tightly in her chest, utterly transfixed by the dark tale of her grandmother’s murderous activities and the horrific disclosure of her grandfather’s subsequent disposal.
Amelia Bodean continued slowly, her eyes focused once more upon the fateful shadows that had governed her life for so very many tormented years.
“I loved your mother, already, more than anything. I vowed I would murder my deceitful husband to keep my unborn and innocent baby safe. There was no choice to be made! One world ended with my husband’s adultery and another one began with the birth of my daughter. We were safe from the evil! I had destroyed the man I loved to appease the terrible rage of Raoul Porchetto! Our debt had been more than fully paid to the Dorojenja!”