Legends of Kepler: Age of Erin

CHAPTER I: DUCHESS OF THE FORESTS (9)

 CHAPTER I: DUCHESS OF THE FORESTS (9)

The musicians were ready by nightfall. The banquet was bright and fresh. The food and beverage appealed the people in a rush.  An anticipated community, and a celebration ready to flourish. The festival started in the sophisticated cathedral. The elves arrived with unique tigers from the hidden nation. The place was fast becoming a thriving newsroom. If Zaragad had something, was the fierce to celebrate, for they really know how to do it; the night felt eternal; the dance portals became the main joy. The cathedral usually covered the adventure, until midnight, when their partners were taken by their own souls to lose themselves into the nearby lagoons; entering an incandescent show of underwater lights. Where love for neighbor was declared, and commitment to the fellow one was establish, by love.

Inside the cathedral’s main atelier, were those from the royal council, and a couple more elves. The community dispersed into small refined groups, throughout the event. People cheered while touring around the singing of the night. Some of them, held candles as gesture of welcome to the great woman, who was there, celebrating with her new town, as a royal comrade, upon the prosperous eventide.

Flashing amps lit the night; fire poles, pleasant streets. The banquet was compelling. It was far from midnight, and the duchess was already flying with an innocent and joyful spirit, and a little bit of drunkenness. She was near the banquet, in a small bar table, where she remained tipsy; she spoke to young warriors, future fiancées, great thinkers, as they all were stunned by the woman's impressive ideas; deep thoughts, that served as an excuse for more cold yeast. Numbing the energetic woman's nerves, and allowed her to unleash her wisdom, without the silence that sometimes consumed her.

After a while, the woman goes to the giant table of the banquet; and while she was gathering some breads and fruits to fill her plate for a second round, she overhears the conversation of two women who stood behind her.  

"What happened to that kingdom?" asks one of the women.

"How do you forget everything so quickly, Vitelia?" answers the other woman. “That was the kingdom that made a blasphemy to Elgoneth, and the father rearrange their rebellious behavior. Don’t you remember? It was about five or six rimmers ago. "

"I remember now!" replies Vitelia, "that day opened like a beautiful sunset, and closed with underlying thunders."

“It fell brutally,” whispers the other woman, “it was a disgrace, indeed.”

"They all died," the woman continues, "for their acts, were unforgivable."

"But what did they do?" asks Vitelia

"No one really knows, although a few days ago, Mrs. Ethel told me something terrible about that," the woman replies. "I can tell you later, but believe me, that is certainly something that would cost this king's life."

"That was the one who stole the tiara of Eleanor, for his queen!" exclaims Vitelia. "What happened to her?"

"That witch died too,” responds the other woman, “and worst, along with our crown!"

"But hey, you know, the god of life was right," the woman continues. “He declared on his word he would take care of them, and he did. They fell like the kingdom of every premature king. Amid the greed for their riches."

"Well then, thank god our queen won't be wearing a crown." says Vitelia.

"That’s not a relief, that’s sadness!" the woman answers. "Could you imagine? We will be the only nation where their queen will not wear the golden crown! If the myth becomes true, how is Queen Eleanor going to greet us when she returns and sees us? With regret! With disappointment! And all because of that poor, arrogant, liar, tyrant, bark–Leyra, my dear love! We were looking for you! You're good? You seem exhausted!"

"I'm fine, thank you Jenara." exclaims Leyra.

"Pork?" the woman asks.

"I'm vegetarian, sorry," replies Leyra.

"Really?" exclaims the woman. “Don't you think it's because you've been in the forest for years? You are here already! You can grab some with confidence! "

"Thanks, but I think I'll pass." exclaims Leyra.

"Are you sure? There is nothing wrong with it!"

"Jenara, don't be rude!" exclaims Vitelia. “Why the heck are we talking about more food, anyway? Let's finish eating, and let’s dance!"

The women sit in a near round table, as they started talking nonsense to each other. The beers kept coming, and they began to rave among the exotic dances of the great party. The daughter of the woods in fact, was full of laughter, at the occurrences of her companions. She took her attitude for what it was, a great moment, as they danced in front of the duchess.

"What are you waiting woman?!" says Jenara, “Come on!”

"Yes! What are you waiting for Leyra?! " exclaims Vitelia, giving out her hand. "Let´s dance!"

Leyra stands up abruptly, holding her friend's hand, but in the speed of her rise, combined with her uncoordinated steps, she tangled her foot with the chair; about to stumble, she manages to grab the arm of a man who suddenly held her, preventing her fall. He had a bluish garment, a narrow jaw, light eyes, and a dark hood; as he introduces himself, to the heated woman.

"How are you?" exclaims the man. "I think we haven't met yet."

"I'm afraid we haven´t," replies Leyra, "are you the sir–"

"I am Gėovan, Clarice II of the kingdom*," interrupts the man, proudly. "Congratulations! I hear from you almost everywhere; your story is one to admire."

"Thank you," replies Leyra, "but, do you think it will be of my bad wits to ask the Clarice, why he doesn't have traits of an elf?"

"It’s because this Clarice is not any elf, my sweet lady" replies Gėovan. “This Clarice is a Solarian; the half-blood gods, inside terrestrial flesh. I went on an expedition among the mountains, some years ago; It was in my plans to return to my land, but when the kingdom find me, I found myself in it. It gave me purpose, and I returned devotion to it, as a gesture of gratitude. And from there on, I’ve enjoyed these years as roads of growth, and progress. "

"I started as a cadet of the Edoer’s Wall, and now look at me!" continues Gėovan. “I just need one more medal of copper, to reach the position of Clarice I; the highest guardian of the temple. Although, there is no one as such, yet. In fact, the last time this city saw one, was a hundred and forty-six years ago."

"So what must this passionate, young man, needs to do to get his medal?" asks Leyra.

" ‘Save the town from imminent destruction’, as transcribed from the Töran." the man responds. “But that doesn't matter right now, my lady. What matters is that you have arrived! We have a new seneschal, and you now have a new home. It’s the happiness you deserve, and that now glimpses your gleaming beauty."

“Thank you very much,” exclaims Leyra, “you are very polite, and courteous. Although, given the circumstances, I would like to ask you a personal question. "

"Whatever for you, my lady." Gėovan responds.

“Along these days, people have asked me several times, if I am from the Congregation of Solari,” explains the woman. “I did not understand what it was, but they then explained to me that it’s a kingdom of sorcerers. The nation hidden among the groves of the north. And since you come from there, I would like to ask you, do you think I’m one of them?"

"A Solarian?" asks Gėovan. "Not at all."

"You don’t think so?" says Leyra.

"You are far more beautiful than that," exclaims Gėovan. “You are different; you are something better. I'm not saying you're an elf either, or a common earthling. I’m just saying you’re one of a kind. And I also believe, the father planned to create you exactly this way; from the roots of mystery, from the springs of uniqueness."

"I have never seen someone like you,” continues Gėovan. "That’s the most beautiful thing about you."

"You are indeed charming," the woman replies. "These are words that’d make anyone fall in love."

"Oh ma'am, don´t talk to me about love," exclaims the man. “It’s one of the reasons why I decided not to return. With a clumsy excuse, I left the nation, for not getting the right romances. Even after years of putting my heart and soul into it. So I leave, towards the mountains; trying to forget love, for it has forgotten me. As soon as I find it, it vanishes from my hands."

"Don't say that," exclaims Leyra. “The right one always arrives; you just have to wait patiently, until life grants you the honor for the right day. It’ll always be your duty, to prepare your home to receive the guest."

The man was silent and bowed his head slightly; suddenly, he extended his hand to the duchess.

"Would you like to dance?"

"Sorry, I really should go now," responds Leyra. "I’m feeling kind of, dizzy. Maybe the next time, all right?"

The man then, politely let the women go away, as she leaved the place. She went out to the outskirts, it was late; her body called her to rest. She began to walk among the descending hills, singing a solid song of harmony. The mystical moons felt alive upon the floodgates of a small forest within the city. The sweet winds of the nocturnal caressed the cheeks of the smiling woman, who was delirious by the beauty that projected in the heights of the kingdom. In the mysticism of a journey; in the kindness of a wish. She felt at home, she felt in company. She became a testimony of the infinite love of her father, whom after a couple of years, had blessed her again with a home, a family. Just what she needed, even if she didn't know it. And so the woman raved, in the night of tenderness and appease; under the gaze of hundreds of stars.

In the figure of the heights, two beings prostrated themselves on the cusp of a giant stone; they balanced in the edges of the highest mountains of Eldrįner; delineating towards the back of the cliff. A golden dragon, and light’s angel, continued a conversation.

"Well, everything is going perfectly!" exclaims the floating angel.

"Do you think it will work?" asks the golden dragon.

"It is working!" responds the being of light. "Just look at her! I've never seen her this happy!”

"Well, I hope you are right, my lord." says the dragon.

"What happened to your optimism, Wėzhreem?" ask the light’s spectrum. "Don't you believe in your father anymore?"

"I am trying, my lord." replies Wėzhreem. “I try to connect with your vision, but my optimism does not rest in these lands. I do not see earthlings like you do, sir. My optimism rests in the garden, as your divine creatures continue to bring glory to your name; better than ever, with pride in your neatest heights. Even if you have your eyes, on others."

"I know, Wėzhreem," the being replies. “You don't have to remind me of that. Just because I don't comment on it, does not mean I’m not aware of it."

The angel struck the golden dragon’s shoulder, on a gently way, and when he looked into his eyes, his angelic soul remembered the number of winters they had crossed together.

"How is the little girl?" the spectrum asks.

"The little girl?" asks the dragon.

"You know, Erin." answers the spectrum. “The gaze of the light is still on her."

“Her name is Hera now, Elgoneth. " replies Wėzhreem. "With the dignity of a Raēn."

"Calm down son!” responds the angel spectrum. “You never told me they would be dragons now. I just assumed it."

“Everything is calm, my lord,” replies Wėzhreem, “it's just that the past must remain where it belongs: behind us. Their lives are already ingrained in the gardens, like the princes and princesses of it. And they feel like ones. They are like my children! She couldn't be happier. "

"Doesn’t she ask about her parents?" asks Elgoneth.

"She does, just like her brothers." exclaims Wėzhreem. “But they understand. They adore their parents. They watch them upon the clouds from time to time; and they don't miss being earthlings. On the contrary, they enjoy their freedom now! And sir, Hera is displaying impressive might in the battle zone. Dracko is now helping her to manage her powers, for although the uncle repudiates her intensity, the affection of his niece lulls him to his most beautiful emotions. He can't deny it to me."

"It happens usually," exclaims Elgoneth. “Now, I must move towards the Ruins of Mérendel. I'll be back in five hundred days. Wait for me upon the east sides, at the first rays of dawn."

The god then, vanished like a blowing of the winds in the curvature of the mountain downsides, and slowly caressed the face of his daughter, who felt a strange a warm sensation of pride in her heart, around the gelid air of the night. The woman continued her singing, as she arrives at the portal of the little red hut, dancing under the miracle of her first night in the hidden city.

Until she stopped, among the golden energies that surrounded her, for she felt a familiar presence between the bushes and the depths. She turned her back on this energy, knowing it was the innocence itself. And her delirious ventured into a vast, lost look. As a witness of red and gold effulgence, that lost in the fabulous drawing of the waterfalls and the steams of infinity.

"Incredible, this transition," exclaims the floating energy.

"The most beautiful of them all." the woman answers. "Where have you been? You have never been so absent as today. "

“The trials falling in your path, will lower your recurrence to perceive your spirit guides,” replies the energy, “but here we are, Leyra. Do not doubt your way. The light is right in front of you."

The woman looked ahead, after she turned around, and a blast of reddish light raced through the deep forest of within.

"I'm scared, Athäir." exclaims Leyra.

"You're fine." responds the floating energy. "Your time, has come."