The Moonstone Blade (I)
1202 Words
Ayana was stuck in memories. She could not get little Ryan out of her head. His words, his gestures and his promises. Not much about him had changed as he grew up. It was only after she slipped back into the Inn without anyone noticing, she had spent the night wondering, out of nowhere, if he had any of the memories of their previous life too?
It did not seem possible now. He did not act like it.
The staying up late had its repercussions and the rocking of the carriage had put her to a light sleep.
When the carriage came to a stop, Ayana jerked awake. It took her a few seconds to realize that they had reached Dandi. In her previous life, Dandi was barely a blip of memory, a place that had never mattered, but now that she is here, she could not help but appreciate the quiet and serenity the small village and its inhabitants radiated. Excitement rolled off her in waves and she was about to throw open the door to jump out when Martha grabbed her by shoulders.
“Your highness!” she chided, “You cannot go out like that. It’s really cold. You must wear this!”
And before she could even form a protest on her lips, a heavy and warm something was dropped on her head. Ayana squeaked and then went red with embarrassment when she heard Aunt Daphne, who had been watching her silently till now, giggled.
Oh, it was a dark and heavily fur lined cloak with a hood to keep her arm. Any complaints she had on her lips died the instant she stepped out of the carriage. A shiver ran down her spine and that did not escape Martha’s sharp gaze and Ayana was bundled in another scarf that hid the lower half of face.
She pouted when Aunt Daphne hid her smile with a gloved hand and offered her another. She slipped her small gloved one into hers and let herself be tugged along.
They had chosen to leave most of their knights behind to attract lesser attention but Ayana knew her Auntie had a sword strapped to her waist beneath her cloak.
Dandi was beautiful. They were surrounded by snow capped mountains, lush vegetations on the valley sides and clouds swimming beneath them. It was a lovely sight. So different from the grandeur of manmade structures Ayana was acquainted with.
“Enjoying the view?” Daphne smiled down at her.
Ayana grinned. “Am I that transparent?”
That made her Aunt laugh. “You don’t even know how much you resemble your mother. It’s almost hilarious!”
Ayana blinked. Her Aunt often talked of the late Queen as a great and respectable figure and a loving mother...but she generally tended to avoid personal things. In her previous life, she had known Briana Isa Ruvesta nee Vivianak as what she meant to other people.
A Queen.
A Sister.
A Wife.
And a mother.
But, never as a person. Never about the desserts she liked or her favorite tea. She wondered if it was too painful, for both Daphne and her father to talk about the woman they both loved so dearly. She was pulled out of her musings when Daphne announced that they were here.
“I will stay here with the knights when the Princess and the Duchess go in.” Martha nodded towards the other end of the road where a small hut like something stood. “If you need help, please shout or signal. I am here.”
Aunt Daphne gave a nod in agreement and then pulled Ayana towards the far end of the road.
The oracle’s cottage, made of dark wood with white smoke billowing from the chimney, was situated in the outskirts of the village, surrounded by weird looking plants and barbed fences.
They walked to the door and Aunt Daphne gave it a polite knock.
“Go away!” A senile, muffled voice replied back and Ayana bristled at the tone used.
She was the princess of Ruvesta and no one living on her land had the right to deny her except for her father and older brothers, let alone an old hag living in the outskirts of a remote village at the edge of her kingdom.
Probably sensing her thoughts, Aunt Daphne gave her hand a warning squeeze.
“Oh great oracle, we have travelled great lengths to reach here because we are in dire need of your distance.”
Ayana could hardly believe her ears. Her Aunt, the powerful and famous Dame Adira was...requesting a little bit of someone’s time like that.
She straightened up when she heard some shuffling behind the doors. Two seconds later, the door opened to reveal an extremely short, old and wrinkled, crooked woman with long white hair, dressed in grey and black fur robes appeared on the doorstep.
“What do you want?” She hissed, glaring up at her Aunt and then her gaze flickered to Ayana. Her eyes went wide, they looked almost out of sockets. She raised her hand in a gesture of silence to her Aunt and then shuffled inside Ayana’s personal space, making her take half a step towards her Aunt. The woman spent a full minute staring at Ayana and she had to believe that this might have been the most uncomfortable moment of her two lifetimes. And that’s saying something.
After a minute, she slid aside from the door and gestured to them to come in.
They stepped inside and Ayana felt uncomfortably warm instantly. It was like a furnace inside. The place was littered with all kinds of weird objects and Ayana thinks if not for the presence of her Aunt, even as an adult she wouldn’t have stepped inside. The old woman said nothing as she wobbled to some shelves and started shuffling some jars and boxes containing things she wanted to know nothing about probably.
“This child,” she pointed her one bony finger at Ayana, “Did you come here for this child?”
“Yes, great oracle.” Aunt was quick to reply.
“Oh, is she dead? This child’s mother?”
What kind of question was that? Aunt seemed to share her sentiments as she had her brows furrowed and answered after a bit of hesitation. “...Yes.”
“Hmm…” The oracle said nothing but simply stared at Ayana again and then let out a long sigh.
“You...used it? Didn’t you?”
She muttered to herself and Ayana shared a glance with Daphne looking for a clue if she understood what the old lady was bumbling about.
“I’m talking to you, brat.” The old woman hissed and Ayana frowned at the disrespectful tone she was using, so she made a face and gave a huffy reply.
“Used what?”
The old woman stopped sorting through her shelves and then turned to Ayana, and raised her wrinkled brows deliberately.
“The blade? The Moonstone blade?”
- Writer
