Authors: L. M. Roth
“I shall be
traveling within the month to meet you in Solone,” her mother’s letter ran. “It
will be earlier than we anticipated bringing you to Lycenium, but in view of
what happened with that wild girl who eloped with a young man, I do not feel
that the class of girls you are keeping company with is healthy for you, and I
do not intend to leave you in such company a moment longer than is possible.”
Felicia
crumpled up the missive and threw it on the ground. Then she flung herself down
after it. Her fists pounded the ground as howls of rage erupted from her
throat. No! Her mother had promised she could stay a year, and that was not
complete until July. She would
not
go before the year was up, she would
not!
Was it her
fault that Hypatia had run away with a young man? No, it was not! Why,
therefore, should she be punished for it? She would not share in the guilt for
such a scandal. To expect her to do so would be to violate the very tenets that
Alexandrians held to of grace and mercy. And Felicia had had no involvement in
the incident with Hypatia, making Tullia’s precaution ludicrous in the eyes of
her daughter.
And as for her
mother’s comment about the class of girls that she was keeping company with,
how like her that was! That came straight out of Grandmother Drusilla’s mouth
that did, and there was no bigger snob in all of Lycenium than her! Did they
not remember that there was no class distinction to Alexandrians? All were
equal in the sight of Dominio, a lesson her father told her once that he
learned long ago.
She recalled
the stories he had told her of his friend Dag, a wild man from the north, and
as true a friend and as great a man as any to be found in all the world. His
father’s friends in Valerium and Lycenium would no doubt look upon him with
scorn, but Dag was a man that he was proud to call his friend. He looked as
fearsome as a bear, but was as gentle as a dove. And what a man to depend on in
trouble! There was none better.
Felicia had
met this man on a few rare occasions when he visited her father in Valerium, and
she was at first overawed by his towering height and his intimidating
appearance. It was true, however, that he was kind and gentle, and she soon
grew at ease in his presence. Indeed, she found him to be a refreshing
fragrance of something solid and earthy in the vapid aristocratic atmosphere of
Potentus, where so many curried for favor with the Emperor, and the noble
ladies vied with one another to see who could host the most illustrious gatherings
based on the number of notables who attended.
She remembered
that Dag lived with his family in Eirinia, another place renowned for wild
inhabitants. And strange legends and tales. With a shudder, she recalled some
of the most terrifying. The spirit of a woman who roamed after dark, crying for
her dead child, and who might snatch another woman’s baby to replace the one
she lost. The demon creature that lay in wait for any hapless enough to cross
its path. Those unfortunate to do so were never seen again. It was little
wonder that the natives made sure to be home by nightfall, where they barred
their doors and did not emerge until after the sun had risen…
Of course, her
father had told her that in the villages of Leith and Annick where Dag and his friends
lived, there was nothing to fear, Dag having evicted every spirit within fifty
miles after he arrived there. No demon or spirit would dare cross the path of
such an intrepid man she was sure. What a man he must be if all the tales about
him were true! And how she would love to see Eirinia!
She sighed and
reluctantly came back to her present dilemma. How could her mother break her
promise to permit her to stay a year in Solone? Had she not done everything
that was asked of her? Was it fair to penalize her for what Hypatia did? And
what could she do about it?
She was
interrupted from her brooding by the presence of Xanthe. Her friend took one
look at her face and slowed her approach, carefully peering closer into
Felicia’s eyes to determine whether it was safe to come nearer.
“Well, is the
volcano nearing eruption, or are the natives safe for the present time?” Xanthe
inquired with one hand on her robe, prepared for flight should the necessity
occur.
“Oh, really;
life is too cruel!” Felicia huffed.
“Why, what is
the matter, Felicia?” Xanthe inquired as a frown of concern wrinkled her smooth
young brow.
For answer
Felicia picked up the letter from the ground and tossed it to her friend.
“Read this and
you will understand all.”
Xanthe quickly
skimmed through the contents, murmuring as she did so. When she finished she
handed the letter back to Felicia and abruptly sat down beside her on a nearby
rock.
“I see,” was
all she had to offer in condolence. “What is to be done?”
“Something
must
be done! For I shall not go with her to Lycenium. She promised me a year in
Solone, and I will have that year if I have to do something about it myself!”
“But what can
you do, Felicia? You are only seventeen, far too young to have any say in the
matter. Your parents can drag you forcibly back to Lycenium and you could do
nothing to stop them.”
“Could I not?”
Felicia fumed with mounting indignation. “They can not very well drag me
anywhere if I am not here to be taken, now can they?”
Xanthe gasped.
“What do you
mean? Would you run away?”
In spite of
the rules of obedience and honoring parents, Xanthe was excited and her eyes
sparkled in spite of her attempts to subdue herself. Felicia continued to
surprise her with her unpredictable behavior.
Never
would she have
thought this girl a daughter of the aristocracy!
“Yes! Yes, I
would run away! For she promised and she is breaking that promise. I do not
believe it is because of Hypatia at all: she knows in her heart that I do not
want to go to Lycenium under any circumstances and Hypatia’s escapade is but an
excuse to make me go to Lycenium earlier than we agreed. She is my mother: she
senses that I do not want to go at all, and she fears if I stay here any longer
I shall refuse to go with her when she comes.”
“And is that
true? Would you refuse to go with her, Felicia?”
“I do not
know. If she had kept our agreement I suppose I would be the dutiful daughter
and accompany her to Lycenium, even though I know I should hate it. I would die
a thousand deaths a day in that atmosphere of frivolity, while here is where I
long to be. But as she is breaking that agreement, I do not feel I have to keep
it either!”
“But where
would you go? You can not hide in Solone, for someone would find you. You can
not return to Valerium for the persecution there. You do not have a choice but
to return with your mother.”
Felicia’s eyes
gazed off into the distance as Xanthe presented her options, or rather, the
lack of them. As the other girl spoke, she weighed her options, and came to the
realization that all was not lost: she had one more option available to her. A
smile crept slowly across her face, and she turned with an air of triumph to
face her friend.
“You are
wrong, Xanthe. There
is
a place I can go. A place where I may be able to
both pursue my training as a prophet, and to put my gift to very good use. Very
good use indeed.”
Had it not
been for Xanthe, she could not have done it. She it was who knew every fisherman
with a boat in Solone, and every way out of it, both secret and public.
Felicia met
her at the dock one morning before Kyrene had risen, letting herself out of the
house quietly. She left a note for her mentor, thanking her for her hospitality
and training, but wrote that in order to pursue her calling she must leave
before her mother came to take her to Lycenium. She had one moment of regret
when she left it, knowing that Tullia would be furious and blame Kyrene for her
daughter’s flight.
The thought
brought a momentary wavering of her plan, but she knew she could not back out
now. She left the note on the little table in the upstairs hallway, and then
crept with as much stealth as she could muster to Kyrene’s door. She opened it
slowly, grateful that Kyrene was so meticulous about oiling hinges, and that
the door did not betray her with a creak. She looked through the crack of the
opening at the woman who had been both strict and gentle with her these past
months. Kyrene’s hair lay unbound and the tawny waves streamed around her face
with a freedom so like the spirit of the woman they adorned.
She should
have been my mother, Felicia mused before she could stifle the disloyal
thought. We are alike, she and I, far more so than my mother and I will ever
be.
She took her
leave of Kyrene with one long look, and silently blew a kiss through the door;
then she closed it gently as though closing the chapter in a book. She edged
carefully down the stairs and out the front door. Ahead of her lay freedom;
from this day on her life was her own and not the scheduled regimen of social
frivolity that her mother would lay out for her.
The ship
plowed through the waves as friskily as a dolphin leaping in frolic. What a joy
to be free at last! Felicia could not believe it; it still had not completely
penetrated her understanding.
She did not
fear any want; her father sent her an allowance regularly, most of it unspent
as she had few needs. She had given some to the local poor, aghast at the sight
of their suffering. The rest of it she had saved in case the need ever arose to
use it.
No, she did
not fear anything for her adventure had begun at last! She had carefully mapped
out her course, and after this ship took her through the last of the Isles of
Solone they would enter the strait that took them into true ocean. She stood at
the deck looking back at Solone.
What a sight
it was, with steep cliffs of varying colors, the remnants of the eruption that
had splintered it from one island so long ago. In the pale light of dawn a
faint rosy glow encircled it, and Felicia thought of how happy she had been the
months that she spent here. Would she ever see it again? And Kyrene? Would she
ever see her mentor again?
She could not
know that her own father had pondered on these very thoughts when he left the
Isles of Solone and his mentor Xenon behind him so long ago.
They would
stop for a respite at the shores of Florindia, the Captain informed the
passengers. They needed to restock their provisions of food, and it would be
good to feel land under their feet again.
Felicia did
not care to stop, indeed, would have preferred to continue straight on to her
destination. But the decision was not hers to make.
Once they
arrived at Florindia, however, she was delighted that they had done so; for
never had she seen such a fair land. The April day was glorious, and the
country upon which she looked was adorned with flowers of every kind imaginable,
growing all the way down to the shore itself, leaving very little coastline.
She had never seen its like.
When they
disembarked to go ashore for the day, she luxuriated in the aroma of flowers
that wafted across the shore. Was that roses that she smelled, and lilac? It
was too early for their blooming in Valerium, but the land was warmer here and
the delights of the spring season already abounded.
She lingered
for a deep whiff; then hastened to the local market. How she longed for some
fresh fruit! It was true that the food on board was monotonous in its dreary repetition;
the crew having taken only what would best keep for a lengthy voyage. But she
soon abandoned the idea of the fruit stall when she saw the glory of the floral
displays that stretched the length of a city block.
“What shall
you have, dearie,” an old woman at the first stall she patronized inquired of
her. “I have lilac for heartache, roses to win your true love, violets for
secrets, and lavender for healing. Of course, there are also hydrangeas for
ambition, see how high they climb! and tulips for beauty, none lovelier!
Jasmine will grant you power, but be careful how you use it; for some have come
to a grievous end by the aid of it.”
Felicia
marveled. What magic was this? And was it good or evil?
“Why, what do
you mean?” she asked.
“What will you
have? Do you have need of anything? Take the flower of your choice to bring
your heart’s desire. Take it, clasp it to your heart, and the good Floris will
grant you whatever you wish.”
The old woman
gave Felicia a crafty look, and slyly inspected her apparel, to ascertain
whether her young patroness might be able to pay the required fee.
“Oh, do you
mean like a talisman; something that will bring me luck?” Felicia inquired.
Such a thing
was forbidden by Dominio, she knew. Yet the thought was intriguing: take the
flower of your choice to grant your heart’s desire. If only life were truly that
easy!
“But of
course!” the old woman cackled in a distinctly unpleasant voice. “It is that
simple; buy your flower to have your wish granted. Now what shall it be?”
Felicia
hesitated only for a moment. She knew that such a thing was forbidden, the
practice of carrying a talisman being akin to witchcraft indeed. After a moment
of consideration, she made up her mind.
“I shall have
none of it!” she declared. “For such a thing is wicked, and does not bring the
hoped for desire. You must repent of such evil and turn to Dominio who will
grant you the desires that He deems good for you!”
The old woman
drew in her breath indignantly, but the young girl at the next stall turned
with curious eyes to Felicia.
“Dominio?” she
asked. “Who is He? Is He a god like Floris? For we revere only Floris in this
land, yet I have heard that there are many gods.”
“No!” Felicia
cried. “There are
no
other gods! There is only One true God, and Dominio
is His name! You were made to know Him, that is the source of your desires and
the secret longings of your heart. Do you not feel it, that yearning for
something more, more than what you have ever beheld with your eyes? For who has
not wept in secret for what, they can not say at times. Yet, there is
something, something in us that cries out for more than what we know. And it is
this: to know Dominio, and to love Him as we were meant to know Him, from the
foundation of the world.”
By now a small
crowd had gathered around Felicia, some curious, others seeming pierced to the
heart by her words.
“Oh, yes!”
cried one young girl. “It is as you say: I have felt something here, here where
no one else has ever been admitted. It is not the yearning for a lover, but the
yearning to be loved. It is this which makes me wake in the night and cry out
for I know not what.”
“Yes, it is
this!” Felicia proclaimed. “And I shall tell you how to satisfy that longing.”
It did not
take her long to tell the women, young and old, the Good News of Alexandros,
and his coming to rescue mankind.
“It is He who
is our true Champion, our Hero,” she whispered with reverence. “For who could
resist One who would die to save you? Not I!” she said.
“Nor I!”
“Nor I!”
All over the
square they came, besieging Felicia with questions, some praying with her on
the spot, others resisting, needing time to think it over.
“Yet I would
not take too much time to think it over,” she warned. “For life is short and
who can say when you may be called into eternity. And after you enter Hades
there is no going back.”
Felicia spent
the next few hours with several young women who gave their pledge to serve
Dominio and advance His Kingdom of Heaven. She taught them all that she could
remember, and prayed that Dominio would send someone who could teach them more.
They promised
to remember all that she had said, and to serve Dominio and Him alone. Yet
Felicia fretted at the thought of leaving them. She knew that what she shared
would not stay with them long if there were none to reinforce the teaching, for
they would forget it as quickly as the rain dries in the heat of the sun. And
in a pagan culture such as this, how could they remain faithful for long?