“What is it?” he asked.
I ignored him, reaching out to push aside the wrinkled collar of his shirt. He wore thick brown boots and gloves, a protective vest, and a sheath that fastened a variety of weapons to his back. Pushing aside whatever husky material I could budge, I unveiled a small parcel of violet color that pulsated beneath his skin.
“Little Bear. . .” he murmured, wrapping his hands around mine.
I thought about my father's ability to elevate objects with just a simple thought, Tassadar and his ability to read minds, then Oli's gift of miraculous strength.
“You’re right, I’m sorry. I need to be happy for Jasper.”
I ached for the glow in Oli’s chest. I’d hungered after the power for so long, to become like the rest of them. I’d imagined if I could become Stone-Hearted, I’d have the capacity to escape the clutches of solitude my father had imprisoned me within.
Oli was my best friend. I loved him dearly. But without my powers to aid in an escape, he’d always find me—keeping me behind the beautiful walls of my glass prison. I entertained the idea for a moment that maybe I was jealous, that Jasper could finally escape, and I couldn’t.
Oli pressed a reassuring kiss to my forehead, then reached into his pocket. He began to dig deep into his cloak, and then swiftly pulled out something I’d nearly forgotten about. In his hand was a leather- bound book.
“You left so quickly from the castle two days ago, you forgot this.”
It was my mother's book. I carried it with me almost everywhere I went. I took it from his hands and examined the modest painting of the Spirit Tree on the dark blue cover.
“Thank you.” I hadn’t realized it had been missing. I usually slept with it beneath my pillow. The last two nights the precious piece of literature had slipped my mind.
The book was a gift from my mother. It was a story about the Aveladon kingdom and a courageous princess. In the story, she uses her Stone-Hearted power to save Aveladon from a dragon king and fights in many battles to win back the realm. It was the most precious token I had to remember my mother.
“Get some sleep, Little Bear.”
Oli nudged me back inside, and I gratefully crawled into my sheets. I tucked my mother’s book beneath my pillow upon habit and waited patiently as Oli blew out the candles on the way out the door. I heard the comforting click of the lock as it shut behind him, leaving me with nothing but the light from the moon streaming through my windows and the quiet whisper of my dreams.
TWO
Jasper spun her coin between her nimble fingers, rhythmically guiding her anxiety into captivity. If she stopped, I feared for her state of mind.
The coin had the Aveladon symbol etched into it, an intricately designed heart, with small ornate tree branches along the coin's rigid edge. It was a gift from our mother. It was thousands of years old, an heirloom I rarely saw leave Jasper's fingertips.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
We were seated inside the carriage, it was a musky fall morning. The clouds were thick on the mountains and the fog hovered densely around the trees.
“I don't know,” she responded honestly.
Jasper’s Granting had come quicker than expected. It was a tradi‐ tion for the princess to visit the Spirit Tree when gaining her Stone- Hearted power, where a Reminant would help her receive and identify her power.
We tottered down the path while the horses pulled the carriage at a brisk pace. It was just the two of us as we followed behind another carriage ahead, holding my father and Oli.
“Is it normal that part of me is afraid?” Jasper asked, her nervous expression turning on me. Another flicker of gold bounced off the carriage windows, catching my eye.
“I think everyone deserves to be afraid when things change,” I said.
Jasper let out a nervous sigh. “I wish Mother was here.”
My heart sank, mirroring Jasper’s longing. “Me too.”
The somber atmosphere between us was suddenly interrupted, by a clamoring of voices outside the carriage. The wheels began to slow, our travels abruptly coming to a stop. The door opened and Oli appeared on the other side, already waiting with his arm outstretched to help us out of the carriage.
The tree was massive. My eyes were drawn to it the minute I stepped outside. Its radiant limbs extended in all different directions above the circular walls that protected its base. I could see the colors illuminating the limbs and the foliage of the forest surrounding it. The aura of rainbow-like colors seemed to sprinkle down and onto the saplings below. The smaller species were trivial in the sight of the magnificent tree that was pulsing with life.
“This way!” my father called, from up ahead on the trail.
He was leading us towards the front gates of the tree. The gates were made of black iron and had winding metal locks and panels. The structure seemed completely immovable. I couldn’t help but wonder how it would open.
Several sentries stood in front of it as we approached, two white steeds beside them. Three horns sprouted from their beautiful heads, revealing that these weren’t just any horses but Graclings—a rare breed found in the Glamasede Mountains. They were rumored to be the most agile and graceful of any steed, their hoof beats never making a sound.
Oli approached the sentries, and they kneeled at his feet. It was an awe-inspiring reminder to see the selfless offering of their bows. Oli was captain of the Aveladon Royal Guard; I had almost forgotten the incredible title he possessed.
“Please open the gates on behalf of King Casimir Aigoviel and Princess Jasper Aigoviel.”
In response to Oli’s command, one of the guards proceeded to slide an ornate glass key from his pocket. It was much too simple. I imagined something more extravagant, not this nearly invisible key that looked as if it might shatter upon a single breath. The silence was thick as we watched the sentry turn the key into a small keyhole and the metal bars on the gates began to unravel. Like snakes, the stationary alloy twisted and curled open without a single sound.
When the gates fully opened, the warmth from the inside of the walls immediately came flooding toward us. It was overwhelming: the sweet smell of flowers and warm honey.
With a simple nod from the guards, Oli led the way inside. The moment I passed over the threshold, the air became thick and the ground became soft. It was a plush grassy terrain that caused every step I took to sink into the ripened verdure.
When I laid eyes on the tree, I let out another awed breath.
The tree glimmered so intensely; it was almost hard to look at. All the different colors were woven into the trees leaves and limbs, pulsing vividly like a steady heartbeat. Stone-Hearted sentries and trained Nurturers bustled around the tree. Its large branches and trunk held chambers and staircases that were neatly carved into the wood by some enchanting power.
To add to its magnificence, a misty cloud hovered over the top of the tree. The white, almost translucent, whirling of spirits gave the tree’s most high tips a dusty aura. Since it wasn’t noticeable from afar, it was a detail I was deprived of from my bedroom window.
The tree had large gangly roots that burst from the ground, tangling into a twisting complexity. A lengthy bridge arched over the obstacle of roots, leading to the base of the tree.
The bridge was made of glass, similar to the key. It sparkled in the reflection of the tree’s shimmering colors. Together we crossed the delicate bridge. I let myself peer over the edge as we walked, the sea of roots rather eerie—I could barely see where they started and where they ended. I imagined myself falling over the side of the bridge into the endless abyss, getting lost in the forest of roots, and never finding a way out.
“King Casimir.” A friendly voice shattered the aching quiet I hadn’t realized was so thick.
We had approached the base of the tree, and a man dressed in a soft white robe came walking toward us. His hair was pulled back into a neatly tied ponytail, revealing his kind face. When coming near my father, he immediately knelt
at his feet.
“Elsmith, no need to bow. How are you, my old friend?”
The Reminant rose and the two exchanged a friendly embrace.
“I am well, but it's been awhile Casimir, much too long.” The look in Elsmith’s eyes held some sort of sadness I didn’t quite understand, and I wondered when the two had met before.
Elsmith looked past my father’s shoulder, smiled when he caught sight of Jasper, and quickly retrieved her hand and gave it a gentle kiss. Through his white robe, I could visibly see a pulsing violet coming from his heart.
“I’m so glad to finally meet you Princess Jasper. I am Elsmith, a Reminant.”
“It’s a pleasure,” Jasper replied, giving a polite curtsy in response to his greeting.
“And you must be Princess Sabeara?” Elsmith asked, suddenly turning to me. I nodded, not expecting the acknowledgment. “It's a real pleasure to meet both of you. The resemblance to your mother is rather uncanny.” His eyes lingered on me for a moment as he said this, and I couldn't help but feel a little uncomfortable with the way he gazed at me.
After a moment of awkwardness, he finally motioned for us to follow him, and began guiding us toward an opening at the base of the tree. It was a neatly carved archway and led to a similarly designed staircase. Together we began climbing.
The staircase weaved through the entire trunk. Lanterns lit the curved corridors, and somehow it looked as if the tree had grown the hallways itself.
Nurturers were working diligently in all different sections, their sole power to help nourish the Spirit Tree, keep it alive, and make sure it was healthy. They all wore the same white robes as Elsmith. It was a symbol of equality here in the Spirit Tree, which was the very middle of all the kingdoms. The tree was a common ground for all of the surrounding territories, a place where no titled land existed.
I took a glance down as we ascended higher and higher into the tree’s trunk. The ground becoming smaller the higher we journeyed. Eventually, we reached a room unlike the others we’d previously passed.
It had large trusses on the vaulted ceiling and a waterfall in the center. The gushing current fell through an open circle in the middle of the room, leaving the air humid and smelling like wet tree wood. A magnificent throne made of soft red velvet and adorned in expensive furs sat on the far wall. Elsmith guided Jasper to the chair.
Two women dressed in white came through an open door, each one holding several different types of stones in their hands. They didn't make eye contact with anyone in the room. They simply floated gracefully around Jasper, laying each stone gently at her feet.
For several minutes we watched the Nurturers set up the stones around the chair. With perfect precision they created a circle of six stones, each one matching a color of power. There was a quiet sacred‐ ness in the room as we watched them reverently work—knowing that all unborn and dead spirits swirled in the branches above.
“Princess, we are ready to begin.” Elsmith turned toward my father. “I am sorry, but the Granting cannot happen with everyone in the room. Only one can stay.”
My father nodded in understanding, “I will stay.”
I caught Jasper's expression, and I could see the worry in her violet eyes. I gave her a small smile and a reassuring nod. She smiled back, her expression relaxing slightly.
And that was the last I saw of her before she became Stone-Hearted.
THREE
The gala was held outside during the final burning ember of fall before turning to winter. The courtyard shimmered with thousands of candles and magnificent decorations. Music played in the background by a band of talented musicians, and the trees were turning whimsical shades of reds and oranges—giving the party a mystical, fiery glow.
More food than I had ever seen before was laid out on long tables, people already feasting. The dance floor was filled with swaying bodies, couples holding each other close. The buzz of conversation surrounded me, and what I expected to be a horrific awakening, was a surprisingly warm reminder of life when I was a child.
“These noblemen and women definitely have a way of making themselves noticeable,” I said to Oli, my designated escort for the night.
“It’s a little unnecessary,” Oli admitted, also scrutinizing the flamboyant crowd.
I couldn't help but stare at those that had come to join the party that night. Even in the flashy royal blue gown my maids had coerced me into, I found I was easily the most ordinary person in the whole courtyard. They were like rare animals, all dressed in red cloaks and extravagant dresses that were handcrafted to show off their lights. It seemed a worthy trend for women to leave a scandalous scoop just above the left breast, flaunting their colored hearts. And due to their guiltless display of power, the entire gathering shined brightly with color. They were undeniably beautiful, hard to look upon without gawking.
When we arrived at our designated table, I was met with Aveladon noblemen and women I had never seen before. They sat around my father making conversation, each looking slightly intoxicated.
“Sabeara!” my father cried abruptly as he spotted us coming through the crowd. “Friends, this is my daughter, the youngest princess of Aveladon.”
He introduced me with a wide fictitious smile. His tone of voice didn’t leave room for even a sliver of doubt that he was nothing less than a loving father. In that fraudulent moment, he made all of them believe he knew me, that there was a charming bond between the two of us. Only I knew the bond he so easily conjured was merely a ghost.
“How charming, what a wonderful young lady you’ve grown up to be,” one man commented from across the table. He was sitting beside my father, a coveted position at such a gathering. Several of his friends nodded in agreement.
“Is this the youngest princess?” another man asked, seated on the far right. He had rustic brown hair and bright green eyes; he looked at me with an uncomfortable admiration.
“Yes, this is Princess Jasper's sister,” my father explained proudly.
“It’s lovely to meet you, dear,” one woman said from beside me. She batted her long eyelashes and gave me a dazzling smile that could only be described as perfection. She wore a dress much like the other women, a silvery bodice covered in sparkling beads, her breast nearly exposed to flaunt her beautiful periwinkle glow beneath her ageless skin. I knew it would be five hundred years before her porcelain skin would even begin to look aged. The Stone-Hearted race lived longer than most, another advantage to gaining our powers.
“It’s nice to meet you all,” I replied, while trying to exhibit a believable smile. I hated having the attention on me and was thankful when a servant came by and offered us all glasses of Lush Fire. The conversation quickly turned to whatever hilarious topic they’d been on previously, and I was easily forgotten.
I looked curiously at the Lush Fire I’d been handed. Lush Fire was a very strong drink I’d been raised not to consume until I was older. I remembered as a child looking at the glasses of dark orange liquid, wondering what it tasted like.
Oli caught me eyeing the drink and then leaned in to whisper in my ear. “Go ahead,” he urged, “take a sip.”
I immediately became suspicious that he was toying with me. But I was only a year away from my eighteenth birthday, the year I would become Stone-Hearted—the age the Stone-Hearted considered adulthood. It didn’t seem too big a stretch that I might be considered old enough now to drink Lush Fire.
When he looked to be seriously permitting me, I reached for the glass goblet, not expecting him to grab it before I could even skim its golden rim.
“Ah ah ah, there’s a catch.”
“What is it?” I snapped impatiently.
“You must stay in my sight the entire night.” Oli’s eyes flickered uneasily for a moment to the guards standing behind the table about ten feet away, nearly hidden in the shadows of the tree line. They were standing, watching the gathering, two large steeds positioned beside them. They were hard to see if you weren't looking for them, and I
wondered how many soldiers hidden from sight were guarding the party that night.
“Fine, Father. . .” I teased.
Pleased with himself, he handed me the goblet, and I glared at him good-naturedly while taking a sip.
The Lush Fire burned as it slid down my throat, and it was a pleasant surprise to taste the foreign fruity liquid. The sweet drink lit up my entire body and turned the party from sparkling, to scintillating.
“Whoa,” I said in surprise. Oli chuckled at my reaction and his delight was contagious. I let out a giggle, feeling a warm, numbing sensation flow through my body. Our amusement was abruptly cut off when we both caught sight of my father. He was staring at us, eyes narrowed, his mouth twisted into a frown. I quickly put the goblet down and wiped my lips with the back of my hand, not shying away from his disapproving stare.
“Oli, want to dance?”
I could tell Oli was trying not to smile as he stood from his chair and took my hand.
“I think that’s probably a good idea before your father beheads me.”
THE LUSH FIRE had inspired an unstoppable energy inside of me and we ended up dancing for hours. I was passed around to an array of dance partners, waltzing one with another until every person on the dance floor became a familiar face. I found myself to be out of breath, and thoroughly exhausted by the end of the evening. The chill of the autumn air felt heavenly against my flushed skin and helped to slow my racing heart.
“Where did you learn to dance?” I asked Oli, as we met up again. The music had slowed and I laid my hands on his shoulders as his arms wound around my waist. We fell into a content and lazy twirling. I watched the musical entertainers that night with my head on his shoulder. I was captivated by a fiddler dancing on the stage, swaying to the rhythm as he played.
“My mother was a good dancer. I would watch her and my father in the kitchen when he came home from working at the borders. Eventually, when my father became the captain of Aveladon, she had no one to dance with in the evenings, so she taught me to dance.”
Granted (Granted Series Book 1) Page 2