Esmerelda's Triumph

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Storm Clouds

The next day, Rosewood tried to take a more tactful approach. Esmerelda watched her slip up behind him and whisper, "Wouldn’t it be nice to return to Dream Glade and the coolness of the forest for the girls’ birthdays?"

She fretted as her father took a while before he answered. Papa, don’t yell. Please.

Instead, he muttered, "Rosewood, we’ve only just begun, and besides, we…"

But Castelia cut him off and finished it. "We can’t abandon Snodgrass, Mama."

She was vexed. She didn’t let her mother reply; she barged in with her hands on her hips. "There’s no such thing as house brownies. The bowl of cream you put out for him is untouched and has gone sour."

"Yes－" Mama began, "if there were such things, I seriously doubt that they would pick a house in the middle of nowhere."

Papa burst out, "Who offended him this time?"

"It wasn’t me," Castelia contended. "I like Snodgrass."

"All right!" their mother shouted. "Let’s not have a war of the kings over it." Esmerelda followed her into the house as she marched off, downcast. Her mother tossed a remark over her shoulder, "And you know how that turned out."

She winced. She had heard that old myth before. Something about a bunch of kings fighting until no one was left alive, and it had become inhabited by monsters and demons from the depths of Hell. It was so old it had become a legend.

Castelia asked, "Papa… how come we never see Snodgrass?"

Thalanar smiled and winked as he replied, "Because house brownies are too wise and clever to let themselves be seen."

Castelia just looked into her father’s eyes with a quirky stare.

He momentarily looked askance and quietly sighed to himself. He was glad he had Castelia on his side. She usually supported him. Esmerelda loved him as well, but she sided with her mother because she believed her to be the wisest.

When they entered the house, her mother turned and called to Castelia, "Come inside and help your sister sweep the floor, please." As Castelia trudged inside, their mother said, "I’ll just be a minute. I have to talk to your father."

As Castelia stomped into the house, she left the door wide open. Esmerelda swept the floor but kept an eye on her parents while they talked. She casually posed the question, "What could be so important that they don’t want us to hear?"

"It is our birthday today," Castelia brusquely retorted as she grabbed the other broom and began swinging it wildly.

Esmerelda commented, "I hope they give us a dog this time."

"Fat chance!" Castelia grumbled. "We’ve asked them how many times?"

She still kept her parents in sight as their mother headed back toward the house and her father proceeded to one of the caves. Their mother stopped midway and waved for them to come outside. She eagerly dropped the broom and headed for the door but stopped to notify her sister. "Mom wants us to meet her outside."

When they reached their mother, she bade them, "Sit."

Rosewood directed them until they were positioned cross-legged, with their knees touching. Castelia pouted and asked, "Why?"

"Be patient. Now hold hands and close your eyes," their mother gently replied.

Reluctantly, they followed their mother’s instructions for what seemed like a very long time. Just as it seemed like hell had frozen over, a furry bundle was dropped into their laps. Castelia opened her eyes almost immediately and gasped with glee.

Esmerelda kept her eyes shut, hoping but not daring to be disappointed until her mother told her that she could open hers. When she saw the furry gray pup with black stripes, she shouted with glee as she noticed that it also had wings. "What kind of dog is this?" she blurted out.

"It’s not quite a dog," Thalanar explained.

Castelia scrunched up her nose and remarked, "It looks more like a wolf to me."

"It’s not quite a wolf either," their father sighed. "Legends say it’s a Semargl after the Norse god Semargl who created it."

"If you can believe that." Mama scoffed. She looked at the children and cynically noted, "Like I believe that legend about the War of the Kings."

The Semargl was already being unmercifully hugged by Castelia but Esmerelda grasped it in her arms as well and proposed, "Let’s call it Wolfy."

"Yes," Castelia concurred.

One unwanted creature that their farm had attracted was a very large hawk. It was larger than a raven but smaller than a goose, with a red tail, a pale underbelly, and a rich brown on top. Its wings were broad and rounded. It soon became clear that it had found their animals easy prey, especially the chickens. The bird was very wary, ever on the move, giving their father the worst possible target and watching every unguarded moment. They had tried making traps to catch it, but the raptor was so intelligent that it found a way around the snare and often escaped with the bait.

Esmerelda learned a spell from her grandmother. Her biggest hurdle was learning to control the karma that exists in all things. What she learned was that karma must be converted into magical energy, often called "mojo." At first, her attempts were exhausting. At that time, she was able to manage it in small amounts. But she was dauntless, so over time, it seemed to come to her naturally.

Magic is fickle, but every enchantment needs mojo in various amounts, depending on the spell. Some spells also require a gesture, such as waving a wand or snapping the fingers. Other spells may require some material items, such as a feather or the hind leg of a grasshopper. Quite often, they may require some verbal component (magic word). She found that she had to watch every word. Magic always － always － ALWAYS took things literally. Some spells will require two, three, or even all four of the arcane components. Magic is fickle!

After a lot of practice with a new spell, Esmerelda camouflaged herself with brush in the shade of a boulder some distance from the trap and waited, hoping that the bird would take the bait. Anyway, it was a long, hot wait that lulled her into drowsiness. She almost missed the opportunity but woke to the sound of frightened squawking. The chicken bait she had put out was definitely upset. She spotted the avian thief about to take flight with the bait in tow. It had cleverly pulled the twine and the stake it was attached to from the ground.

She was so amazed by the hawk’s cleverness that she almost forgot to employ her Fireball spell. She stretched out her hand with her fingers tightly held together, uttered the magic cant, "flamma ad accipiter," and forced the bird to drop the bait and fly away with a smoking tail. The cutpurse never returned again.

Her pride was unbounded at having mastered another spell, not to mention foiling the thief. Images of becoming a master magician flooded her childlike mind.

She detested those scurvy rats plaguing the farm, and she found enjoyment in devising traps to catch them. Half of the time, the rats were too wily to be caught and found ways to avoid her best-laid plans. She continued to practice the Fireball spell on them.

Another activity she and her sister adored was riding the backs of those flightless, winged hogs, even though the swine didn’t share their delight.

A few days later, they started the day complaining about Wolfy’s absence. At breakfast, Esmerelda grumbled as she berated her father, "Why did you get us a pet that is gone more than he is here?"

At first, Wolfy was all fun and games, but he grew quickly, and as his wings developed, he began to fly. At first, it was just local, but he soon began to lengthen his range, and he would disappear for longer periods of time. In time, they discovered that if they sincerely wished, they could wish him back into their presence. But it was not a sure thing, and sometimes wishing didn’t work.

Thalanar ducked his head and offered a weak apology. "Sorry, children, I didn’t realize he would be like this." He then buried himself in the porridge set before him.

Esmerelda had lost the slightest desire for food, so she just sipped her porridge now and then. She didn’t try to keep her disappointment hidden and scowled mercilessly at Thalanar. He was looking at her out of the corner of his eye while putting a spoonful of porridge to his lips. As she stared at him with a fervent scowl, he sighed and gazed up at the ceiling.

"I know how disappointing it is," he conceded. "Maybe we should take a trip to the glade? "It’s not much, I admit, but that is all I have to offer."

Her hopes soared at the thought that she would get to see her grandmother again and learn another spell. That wasn’t the only thing that delighted her. On the prior trip, a certain young boy named Cyrillus caught her attention. She was certain that she had caught his attention, too. He and another elfin boy had been sword fighting with sticks. She stopped to watch, and he almost got whacked when his gaze fell on her instead. After that, he seemed to strut his stuff just for her as she laughed and giggled at his antics. They didn’t exchange any words, but she was smitten with him.

However, when they reached the glade, they found her grandmother dispirited. Not only that, but the whole village seemed vexed. Everyone looked at them with foreboding. She couldn’t fathom what was going on until her grandmother told her father to see his sister. My aunt, the one who fancied herself a visionary, had a disturbing dream the night before.

"Stay! Do not return," she warned us. "If you do, death and a fate worse than death await you except for Esmerelda."

Shock erupted like a volcano within her and disturbed her tranquility as her family and friends focused on her. She shrank in their presence and had no idea what to say. Her joy had been turned upside down.

What was worse, Thalanar exploded with anger and left immediately. Their travel had been slowed because their parents argued all the way home.

"She’s a deranged lunatic," her father yelled.

"Think of your family. Her predictions have been more right than wrong," her mother screamed.

Her mother almost turned around and headed back to the glade with them. They arrived home late at night.

She felt the weight of immense pressure upon her, not just because of the heated row between her parents, but also because of her aunt’s prophecy that she would rise to greatness. She remained silent and did not say a word during the whole trip. When they got home, she jumped into bed. She didn’t even change into her nightclothes but just pulled the covers over her head and wished that morning would never come.

For the next three days, all that Rosewood could get out of Thalanar was a halfhearted promise to think about it. During that time, they never once saw the unicorn. In addition, the detestable black rats had disappeared from sight. The animals were nervous and refused to eat.

The twins tried to ameliorate their woeful circumstances with bouts of frivolity. They loved riding the backs of those flightless, winged hogs, even though the swine did not share in their delight. They decided to have a hoggy race. (Hoggy was the pet name that they gave to the winged pigs.) Because they were fat, they were also generally slow, unless given the right motivation, such as a kick in the ribs. They had spotted two hoggies that were basking in mud as they cooled off in the sweltering heat of an early spring afternoon. One of them was black with white spots, while the other was brown with a white underbelly and jaw. Although they could hardly discern the difference due to the fresh mud caked on them, the grimy pigs would make the race all the more exciting.

Castelia giggled as she said, "I’ll take the black one and you take the brown." Esmerelda readily agreed, and the race had begun.

The first obstacle in the race was cornering the swine. The swine’s domestic traits did not include being docile partners in little children’s fantasies. Likewise, the very thought of even getting next to their slimy bodies was repulsive, but nevertheless, that was part of the challenge. To refuse would mean automatic disqualification.

Castelia was the first to overcome her squeamishness and wrapped her arms around the unsuspecting pig, which was almost as tall as she was. Unfortunately, her arms were not long enough to get a firm grasp around the swine’s neck. The slick grime that clung to the hog made it as slippery as an eel, and she was left flat on the ground with a muck covered dress as the reluctant pig refused to cooperate.

Esmerelda fell into a fit of laughter and momentarily forgot about catching and mounting her own until Castelia got back up to try again. She was laughing nearly as hard as Esmerelda as she tried to catch her intended mount. Esmerelda found it hard to corner her own because it had become alarmed by the other hog, but she managed to grab it by one ear, which elicited a raucous squeal of disapproval. Though the pig’s howl deafened her, the sheer excitement provoked a scream of delight in both girls even though they found themselves lying on the ground covered in mud; so much mud that they had nearly wiped the hoggies clean with their dresses.

It was Esmerelda who first successfully mounted her hoggy. But from there, the task was to be the first to guide it back to the pen, which was about seventy-five hoggy strides away. Castelia succeeded in mounting hers shortly after, but she was the closer of the two. Esmerelda gulped, realizing her disadvantage, and gave her mount a quick jab in the ribs. It was premature because she had failed to get the boar headed in the right direction. Not to be outdone, Castelia followed suit just as hastily.

Well…at least both hogs were headed in the same direction, although it wasn’t where they had intended. Some rats scurried to get out of Esmerelda’s way, and the hoggy veered left into the path of the other hog. Both hogs nearly collided with one another. Both girls lost their grip and fell to the ground, right in front of their father.

After checking to make sure that neither was harmed, he silently escorted them to the house, where they both underwent a thorough bath and a scolding from their mother. It was a fond time, though, and it helped to strengthen their bonds.

By the end of the third day, her father finally agreed to let the animals go the next morning, and they would return to the glade. Esmerelda sighed with relief as she settled down and finally slept in peace… for once… in three nights. It was a tragic peace. As they would soon learn, it would be one night too many.

They woke at sunrise the next morning, as they always did, but instead of the usual chores, they ate first. The plan was to leave as soon as they had released the animals. Rosewood didn’t want to delay their departure more than necessary. She also wanted to beat the heat of the day as much as possible.

Their mother served them first and then sat down to eat. Esmerelda was both hopeful and nervous about the trip. Hoping to see Grandmother and Cyrillus and nervous about what kind of reception they would get. Unusual for her, she held her bowl close to her lips and gobbled down her porridge as fast as she could. Before she had finished, an icy chill fell over her. She looked behind her and saw small pieces of debris blowing under the door. Nothing like that had ever happened during the time they had lived there.

After dipping a piece of bread in the soft, mushy serving and taking a bite, her mother shivered as another draft of air found its way beneath the door. She said, "Thalanar, a cold draft of air just came through the door." He barely took notice and grunted as he spooned another mouthful of food into his mouth.

"I felt it too," Esmerelda agreed, shivering along with her mother.

"Oh," Castelia chimed in, "that would be such a relief." Hardly had Castelia spoken when it grew dark outside, and they heard raindrops tapping on the roof. This was followed by the frightened reactions of the animals outside.

That got Thalanar’s attention, and he tipped his bowl to his mouth as he wolfed down the last of his meal. He leaped from his chair, which fell to the floor in his haste to get out the door. "Sorry," he apologized. "I had better release the animals."

His voice was calm, but Esmerelda realized that he was very alarmed. In all the time that they had lived there, they had never seen a hint of rain. It might not have been so unusual elsewhere, but it was extremely unusual there. As her father opened the door, she gulped when she saw rolling black clouds filling the sky with a loud thunderclap right above them. The house even shook as if there had been an earthquake. She began to wonder if this was the reason the house had been abandoned in the first place.

Her first thoughts were about the animals, in particular, those in cages. The rest could reach safety by themselves once they were released. The animals panicked, which made Thalanar’s efforts more difficult as the intensity of the storm rapidly picked up.

Even though they were frightened by the thunder, Castelia ran out to help her father. She pled, "Don’t leave without me, Papa!"

"I want to help, too," Esmerelda blurted, pushing past her mother, who was standing in the doorway and looking out at the escalating storm. Before she knew it, she was sloshing in water as the stream overflowed its banks and turned into a torrent. A spontaneous gasp burst from her as the icy stream chilled her to the bone. The air had a foggy feel, as if the water had been churned into a fine mist. She had never seen a storm of this intensity, so she turned to her mother, who appeared frightened out of her wits.

Her mother tried to call them back inside. "Castelia, Esmerelda, get back in—" A clap of thunder overhead was so loud that she was drowned out. Rain pelted down in sheets. Lightning crashed down nearby, knocking them all to the ground, followed by a deafening roar.

Esmerelda hacked and spat water from her mouth as she attempted to stand up. The water was ankle-deep around her. Things had happened so fast that she was having a hard time adjusting to the surge of lightning. Some of the animals lay motionless, but the rest were rushing pell-mell through the open gate in an attempt to find safe ground.

After picking herself up, Castelia rushed into her father’s arms, who was just picking himself up, and she clung tightly to him.

Esmerelda was only slightly calmer as she tried to get a better grip on herself. When she looked around for her mother, she found her lying motionless as water swirled around her. She ran to her, but her mother was unresponsive, with an empty stare that horrified her. "Mama, Mama, get up. Don’t lie there. Get up!" She pled with tears rolling down her cheeks that mingled with the rain on her face.

Her mother’s body was limp, and she did not answer Esmerelda’s pleas. She looked back at her father, hoping for assistance. He had just picked himself up, but he had a dazed look on his face. That’s when another roar from the top of the cliffs caught their attention. They saw the waterfall swell and burst over the edge as it cascaded down in a flood.

She panicked as she found herself knee-deep in water, and her mother began to float away with the current. Her first thought was to get her to safety by pulling her into the house. But when she saw water pouring through the open doorway, she looked back at her father. He was trying to get Castelia to let go of a fence post and take his arm. He was hampered by the water swirling around them. She was mortified and confused, with no idea of what she should do next.

That was when she was almost knocked off her feet again by their boat as it smashed into her. She barely caught it as it started to float away. She had never been so terrified in her life as she held onto her mother with one hand and the boat with the other. She attempted to ignore her fear as she struggled to get her mother into the boat, which she almost swamped in the effort. She finally decided to get in first, but her mother’s limp form was not easy to manage under the circumstances, and she almost lost control a number of times. As the boat drifted away with the current, she fought to get her mother into it.

When her mother was finally in the boat, she looked for her father and Castelia again. He was trying to make it to the boat as well, but he was losing the struggle with Castelia who still clung to the fence post. The distance was widening between them as the boat floated away. She grabbed the oar and paddled with all her might. She made some headway, but the current was strong, and she was exhausted from her efforts.

Nevertheless, she had almost reached them. She didn’t get a good look at it, but something large fell from the waterfall above. Thalanar and Castelia reached out for the boat, but an enormous wall of water surged over them. The boat almost capsized as it was tossed by the wave, and the oar was torn from her grasp as she fell backward. When she looked up again, there was no sign of her father or sister, and the boat continued to drift away. She sobbed as a painful reality hit her: she feared that they might be gone forever. With it, a growing anger toward her Aunt Gossamer accompanied her grief.