10. Chapter 10

Chapter ten

I always hated the word destiny. And fate. They were just flowery ways of saying you have no control of your life so nothing you do matters.

“No,” I said, giving Corym my best defiant glare.

“Apologies, Princess, but I do not understand," he replied, furrowing his brow.

“Did I stutter? I said 'no.' As in, 'no, I don’t give a shit about some ancient prophecy.' Or maybe 'hell no am I going to get sucked into this madness.' Take your pick, but it still comes out as 'no.'”

I knew I was being a bitch, but I didn’t care anymore. I’d been at the whims of these people ever since I landed in this strange world, and I was done with it.

Shock didn’t really describe Corym’s expression so much as horrified. Like the thought of someone not wanting to fulfill a prophecy was unfathomable.

“But… but…” he sputtered, at a loss for words.

I handed him the scroll, then wandered back over to the chairs where I slumped down, leaning my head back to view the mural again. It really was spectacular.

“Look, I get it. You guys think I’m the one all this refers to. And maybe I am. I’m willing to accept that the king of this place is my father because he looks just like me, and I’m not surprised to hear my mom was human. But none of this means anything to me. I have a life back home and someone who needs me. I’m sorry, but I can’t help you. You’re going to have to wait for the next human and king offspring.”

Dey joined me, kneeling beside my chair. “Princess…”

“Stop. I’m not a princess. I’m not a savior. I’m just Rain.”

He shook his head sadly. “You are wrong. This…” he gestured to the mural, “…is who you are . You are not just some girl from the Other Realm. You never were. Surely you must have realized at some point that you did not belong there?”

I hated that he was right. I always thought I didn’t fit in because I was an orphan. I didn’t know anything about my parents, and by extension I didn’t know anything about me. I had no siblings. No grandparents. No one to tell me how I might turn out based on my genetics. Of course I would feel lost.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” I croaked out, trying to hide the catch in my voice. “I get it. You grew up with all this. It’s very real for you, but it’s just a story for me. Saying I’m the chosen one doesn’t magically make me believe it.”

I stood up, threw back my shoulders and faced Corym, giving him a look of firm resolution. “I can’t help you,” I insisted, staring him down and daring him to say anything to the contrary.

“I am afraid it is not that simple,” came a voice from behind me, and I whipped around to see my father standing in the doorway.

“Thank you for your help, old friend,” he said, crossing the room to clap Corym on the shoulder. “I will take over from here. Raynella and I have much to discuss.”

“Yes, of course,” Corym said, rolling up the scroll he had been clutching for dear life. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Raynella. If you have any questions after speaking with your father, I am most often here in the library.”

“Thanks,” I said, then left to follow my father, leaving Corym sitting on his desk looking a little like a lost puppy.

“Where are we going?” I asked as my father led Dey and I back up into the castle proper.

“The Sylvarium,” he replied without pausing his brisk pace. “It was one of your mother’s favorite places in the palace.”

“I’d love to see where she spent her time,” I said, feeling a tingle of excitement to learn more about my mom. “But what’s a Sylvarium?”

My father gave me a sideways glance and smiled. “Wait and see, my little Raynella.”

I was tempted to remind him that my name was Rain, and also I wasn’t little, but something kept the words from coming out of my mouth. Maybe I still really wanted him to like me. To think of me as his daughter.

We rounded another corner, and I saw the hall ended at a set of tall glass and metal doors. As we neared, it became evident that the glass panes were not actually glass.

“You have doors made of diamonds?” I didn’t know if I should be disgusted at the opulence or amazed at how beautiful they were. Up close, I could see all the different carvings of trees, animals and flowers that made up the eight panels.

“The Sylvarium is built mostly from glass. My own mother, however, decided many years ago that the doors needed an upgrade. She spent a lot of time here as well and felt it deserved a more elegant entry.”

At the mention of his mother, it dawned on me that I might have more than just a father. I might have grandparents or even siblings.

My mind was reeling with the familial possibilities when he pushed open the diamond-accented doors, and all other thoughts were lost to the wonders within.

Frosted glass walls and ceilings inlaid with small diamond clusters shaped like flowers filtered the late morning light into the room, casting a rainbow of colors that danced across the scene before me. Numerous woven baskets hung from the ceiling, filled with exquisite flowering plants that spilled over the edges, their berry covered vines cascading toward the ground like rippling verdant curtains. Mossy cushioned benches were scattered throughout the open room, and ropes of falling ivy encircled the soft looking sofas. Narrow trees similar to skinny willows sprouted from the ground around the edges of the space. It appeared that the Sylvarium was built directly over the soil, allowing the trees and flowering bushes to grow naturally.

And all of its beauty faded into the background because I was completely mesmerized by the small creatures flying around the room. At first, I thought they were butterflies with their vibrantly colored wings, but they were closer in size to sparrows, their wingspan as wide as my hand. As they fluttered about, soft dove-like cooing and musical chitters filled the air.

I took a few steps into the room, and two of them flittered over to me. After stretching out my arm, I held perfectly still and waited for them to land so I could get a closer look. They both perched just above my elbow, and I let out a tiny gasp when I saw that they didn’t have compound insect eyes but instead had feline, oval-slitted orbs. The piqued curiosity in their expressions as they regarded me mirrored my own. One had thin, translucent crimson wings with white speckled throughout, while the other had bolder wings of deep purple with an opalescent sheen. The crimson one scooted further up my arm, and the miniscule claws at the end of its thin black legs gently dug into my skin as it moved. With one finger, I lightly caressed its velvet soft thorax.

I turned to my father and Dey who were waiting patiently, and the creatures flew away at the slight jostling. “What are they?” I whispered, a child-like wonder lighting up my face. There had to be a hundred or more flying around under the glass dome, some with wings of a solid color and others with spotted or translucent ones that sparkled in the rainbow light.

“They are crescia,” Dey answered.

I blinked at him, “But your pet I met in the garden… Thorell, right? You said he was a crescia. These don’t look anything like your hawk lizard.”

“That is because these ones are unbound. Once a crescia chooses their Vitaean, they go through a metamorphosis. Their final form is determined by the strength and soul of their bonded.”

My father came up behind me and took my arm, guiding me over to one of the sofas. “We can discuss that a little later. I do have responsibilities, Raynella, and we need time to discuss things before I am pulled away to attend to the needs of my people.”

I felt a little twinge of sadness as I claimed the cushion beside him, twisting my body and tucking one leg under me. Of course he would be too busy to hang out all day and answer questions. It’s not like you could call in sick when you were the king. The logic of the situation failed to make me feel better though.

Dey sat on a nearby sofa, seemingly content to bow out of this conversation.

“Raynella,” my father said, drawing my attention back to him. “I know that you are feeling very overwhelmed right now. I should have been the one to explain the prophecy to you, but Corym is the palace scholar and far more adept at telling the story of our people. You are a Vitaean, Raynella. You were born here. I know you feel human because you have spent your life surrounded by them, but you are not one. Not completely anyway. Your mother was human so you do have her blood in you, but your Vitaean side is much stronger.”

“I don’t even know what that means,” I replied, still trying to wrap my brain around being a different species. “You all look human to me.”

“I understand. The Gods who made all the worlds created life from the same template so we look similar, but I assure you, we are not. Dey can go over the differences at another time since I must soon return to my courtly duties. I thought perhaps that if I told you about your mother, then you would be more inclined to consider fulfilling the prophecy.”

It was only the desire to learn more about my mom that kept me from telling him that it was a waste of breath trying to convince me.

“You must know that my family has guarded the secret of the prophecy for thousands of years. When the original Diamond King returned here to the palace, he decreed that no Vitaean of the Diamond Court would be allowed to mate with a human because he was terrified of the child being born before his people were ready. He cared only for the wellbeing of his citizens and believed it was the right thing to do. His decree remained in place for thousands of years.”

“So what changed?” I asked.

My father ran a hand through his hair, hesitating. “My people started to get sick. It began about forty years ago. A plague born of the dark forest began infecting Vitaeans. The strongest healers tried everything but were unable to save those afflicted.” He closed his eyes for a second, struggling with his words. “My wife and children all succumbed to the illness.”

Oh, God. I felt like I should hug him, but the thought made me too uncomfortable, and I didn’t think he would appreciate the stiff gesture. “I’m so sorry,” I offered soberly, the weak words the best I could manage.

“It is all right, Raynella. It was a very long time ago. You have to realize that most Vitaeans live much longer than humans. I myself am 137 years old and still young compared to many that reside in the palace.”

I almost choked at the number. He barely appeared middle-aged.

“I realized that the only way to stop this plague is for the ley lines to be restored,” he continued. “The Walker created the dark forest to protect the Onyx Palace. To protect the condensed lines. Once they are separated, that forest should be no more, and stronger healers will be able to eradicate the disease. So I did the only thing I could do. I had my men search for a silver-haired human. It took over a decade, but they found her. Your mother, Leeara.”

Leeara. It was a beautiful name.

“My men told me where she was staying. The moment I saw her, with that long silver hair flowing like water around her perfect face…“ he trailed off, his eyes going distant at the memory.

“You fell for her?” I ventured.

A dreamy look claimed him. “I did indeed. I brought her here, and we were happy, Raynella. After a few months, she became pregnant with you. Not because I forced her, but because she wanted to have a child. I planned to tell her about the prophecy one day when you were older, but seven months after you were born she fled the castle with you for reasons we may never know.” He paused before continuing, bitterness now lacing his words. “She took you to the Walker that lived in the dark forest. By the time we found her, it was already too late. My men arrived just as the Walker murdered your mother and stole you away through a rift.”

My father lifted a hand to my cheek. His thumb wiped a tear away, and he held his palm there, tenderly cupping my face. “I have been searching for you ever since that day, Raynella. I found the last remaining Walker and convinced him to help me. Every lunar cycle when the rift could be opened, I sent one of my best men to seek you out. I was beginning to give up hope until now.” He pulled me into a tight hug. “You are finally home, Raynella. Rivella is where you belong.”

Ignoring the awkwardness of his touch, I let him hold me while I grieved for the mother I never knew and wondered about her possible reasons for stealing me away.

The sound of a throat clearing eventually pulled us apart. A short, elderly male in a red button-up frock hovered uncomfortably a few feet away.

My father waved a hand at him in acknowledgement, then turned back to me. “I must leave you in Dey’s very capable hands now, but I implore you, Raynella, please take some time before you reject your role in the prophecy. Now that you are in Vitaea, your magic will awaken, and you can save your people.” He gave me one last squeeze then stood. “Think about it. This could be your home.” And with that, he left the Sylvarium, his steward close behind.

Dey joined me on the bench. “Are you well, Princess?”

I was most definitely not well. My brain was reeling, and I was pretty sure my capacity for new and insane things had surpassed its limit. There was, however, one prevailing thought that begged immediate attention.

“Dey… do I have magical powers?”

The son-of-a-bitch just grinned.

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