by Kealohilani
Then, even if he found another Half-Heart, the magic probably wouldn’t work because he would have only moved on because of a curse. The only way for Jharate to be able to be effective as a Half-Heart with her— or, unthinkably, without— was for him to make a decision about her with his heart fully-functioning and free from all evil influences.
“I promise this will all become clear in time,” Karsenia added as if reading Lani’s mind.
“I believe you… What do you recommend I do for the small acts of love to try to break the spell?”
Karsenia glanced out the window and then back to Lani.
“The sun is coming up. You must go now. Wake up, Lani.”
“No! Wait! I don’t know what to do!”
Lani felt two hands on her shoulders gently shaking her awake as the vision faded away.
“I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do!”
“Lani!” Raoul’s voice called. “Lani! Snap out of it! You’re just having a bad dream. Wake up!”
Lani opened her eyes and looked at Raoul with a bewildered expression. Seeing Raoul there felt odd. She sat up and blinked, trying to adjust to being awake.
“You just sat up on your own! That’s fantastic! Jaresh wasn’t kidding about that herbal stuff!”
Lani didn’t hear him. Her mind was replaying the vision she had just received. She still wasn’t sure exactly what she was to do, but she was on a mission to get her true love back. It would begin today.
“Hello? Lani? You there?”
Lani shook her head slightly before answering cheerfully, “Sorry! Good morning, Raoul!”
The next several days flew by. To Lani’s great relief and excitement, she healed remarkably fast. She didn’t feel completely normal yet— but she refused to let anyone else discover that, and pushed ahead as if she were perfectly healthy.
She had developed a plan to show Jharate love without giving him a chance to reject it. Whenever she could, she smiled at him and looked away first. That way he wouldn’t have time to turn away from her. She would also say hello to him and then quickly walk over to Arante and ask her a question.
She figured the less chance she gave him to cut her off, the less he would get set in his ways of ignoring her. She hoped it was working, but she couldn’t really tell— because, to keep it up, she had to keep running away first.
The other phase of the plan was much trickier to pull off, due to Jharate’s extreme ability to be alert at all times and due to the effort it took to find the resources to implement it. Lani would search for things she could write with and on— and then she would carefully tie the improvised note to his sword while he slept, whenever she could.
She couldn’t help feeling like a ninja at these times when she had to sneak up on him without making the slightest sound. She made sure that the notes expressed her love for him, encouraged him to keep hope for the future of Alamea or for himself, or praised him for something he had done well that day. Sometimes she would just write uplifting words from a book she had read long ago or quotes from Shakespeare or religious works.
Again, she had no idea how Jharate was receiving these. He never spoke to her of them. He never spoke to her at all. Whenever he looked as though he might be attempting to speak to her, the moment would fade and he would simply blink and walk away.
Regardless, it felt better to be doing something rather than nothing. And it also felt good that— because of the way she had set her plan into motion— he couldn’t actually reject her right now. A lackluster bright side, to be sure— but it was a start.
Surrounded
Lani had now regained her cheerful demeanor. A fortunate byproduct of her recent counter-intuitive efforts. By focusing on the positive every day, in order to write Jharate the little notes, she had inadvertently lifted her own spirits.
She almost felt that everything she had done for him was already worth it for that reason alone— even if Jharate never responded. Plus, with how much she loved him, doing something that might ultimately rescue him— and possibly bring him daily happiness in the meantime— also made her feel happy.
But today she was happy for another reason as well— they had crossed the border of Kelamosa into Zenastra days ago. Better still, one more night and a full day’s walk and they would be out of these mountains!
Despite her bubbly attitude and the fact that she was trying to focus on a brighter future, these mountains had represented nothing but pain and suffering to Lani. The prospect of leaving them behind was thrilling!
The morale of everyone around her was high as well— especially since some of the journey had, once again, mysteriously taken less time than expected. Though it wasn’t over yet— as they still had part of Zenastra to cross, before they could reach the Zenastran side of the Faerie Forest and navigate the underground river that would carry them into Destavnia— it didn’t matter. Success was success. They were excited that they would soon reach the sparkling magical river— a little less than two weeks from now.
The rebels found an excellent spot to make camp for the night. Before they even set up one bedroll, a sudden gust of wind blew a giant spiral of dust around them. They shielded their eyes and waited for all of the particles to settle.
Once they could see again, they looked up and saw over a hundred people who had seized the high ground in every possible direction. Each one was armed with a large and superlatively-crafted bow— arrows drawn back, pointing down at the rebels.
Lani found herself feeling more irritated than afraid as she saw the extent of their situation. She had simply had enough of being captured.
Justin’s eyes were fixed on a tall, exquisite woman who stood on an outcropping of a cliff with her head held high. Lani followed his gaze, wondering what could elicit such a jaw-dropping response from him— until she saw her.
The woman wore a teal silk shirt with brown flowers embroidered in a vine-like pattern around the sleeves and body. The shirt had a u-shaped neck— trimmed in crimson piping— that would have been too low to be decent were it not for the fact that she wore what appeared to be a teal silk tank underneath it— with highly gathered material across the bust. The top of the tank was trimmed with one-inch of brown lace, which was dotted with golden flecks that caught even the smallest beam of light and reflected it brilliantly.
The bodice was so well fitted that it was difficult to tell if it was indeed a tank and a shirt, or just one blouse. Two rows of crimson piping encircled the perfectly tailored waist, mimicking a belt. The shirt flowed freely from the waist to her mid-thigh. Sheer teal-colored three-inch ruffles trimmed the handkerchief bottom— which fluttered delicately in the wind.
The long bell sleeves flowed with the woman’s every move and her tan leggings disappeared into her knee-high tawny high-heeled leather boots. A thin brown leather strap secured her quiver to her back. However, she had not bothered to draw her bow.
Platinum blonde hair flowed down four inches past her shoulders, with shorter strands falling to frame her dainty features. Some of it blew gracefully across her face and created a slight veil effect.
Her glittery green eyes sparkled fantastically in the vanishing light of the day. Her lips, a shimmering shade of pink. She carried herself with an inherent and polished grace and elegance that Lani had only ever seen before in old movies starring Grace Kelly and Audrey Hepburn.
Next to the woman, stood a tall man with a proud and confident air. His dark wavy hair was swept back and nearly touched his shoulders. His deep brown eyes sparkled like those of his companion. He reminded Lani of a prince, and she sensed an air of easy command that was hard not to respect.
He wore beige-colored pants and a cream-colored linen tunic with bell sleeves that were gathered at the wrists. A teal leather waistcoat was the same length as the tunic it covered and had three straps in the front that were fastened by three golden buckles. Thick tawny knee-high leather boots complemented the ensemble.
A large black leather belt held the
scabbard for his sheathed sword. Across his torso was another black leather strap that held his quiver and his bow on his back. He stood with his arms crossed, looking down at the twenty rebels below.
“My name is Tierza,” the woman announced in a melodic and powerful voice, “High Priestess of the Mountain Elves.”
“And I am Laern,” the man added in a deeply resonating voice, “High Priest and joint-ruler of the Mountain Elves.”
Drakne rolled his eyes. Elves are so egotistical.
“We have been watching you for a long time,” Tierza revealed. “I saw you first deep in the Forest of Kar. I waited to see if you could be trusted or not.”
Laern continued, “When we observed you entering the Pure of Heart Sanctuary, we knew you could be trusted. We decided to wait for you to come near our home before revealing ourselves to you.”
“Wait a minute… You’ve been watching us since the Forest of Kar, and you never helped us?!” Arante raged.
“When were you in need of assistance?” Tierza asked with a delicate frown.
“Apparently you were not paying very close attention! You guys are elves! With your abilities, the two of you alone could have taken out all the soldiers in Asharen’s ambush before they could blink— not to mention the help you could have been against Drakne’s men! We lost twenty of our people and we may lose more now, thanks to this detour! We could have gone to Destavnia the fast way with your help! We would have been there weeks ago— at least!”
“We never saw you engage in battle. We merely saw you running away from Drakne’s men and into the sanctuary. That was the only trouble that we observed— and it seemed that you had the matter well in hand.”
“I knew that the elves were staying out of this war but I never knew that you were so completely and infuriatingly—”
“Arante,” Jharate warned in a low tone, before turning to face Tierza. “I am Jharate Inihma, Crown Prince of Trisakne and the rightful heir to the throne, Prince of Kar, Duke of Lahren, Duke of Zarkhan, Lord of Malukia, and Prince of Kalamora. And these are others who believe in the fight against The Great Evil.”
“Ha!” Drakne laughed to himself. He quickly placed a fist over his mouth and looked around to make sure that he had not been overheard. He exhaled carefully as he realized that no one had noticed and reminded himself that he had to be a little more careful if he wanted this game to continue.
The way in which Jharate had just spoken gave Lani chills. She didn’t usually remember that Jharate was a prince, despite his royal bearing. But the way he spoke now— it was more than apparent that he was among his peers and not a subordinate. This natural mastery of authority somehow sparked a deeper yearning in Lani to be his again— to feel his arms around her and taste his lips on hers.
“And if you wouldn’t mind dropping your weapons, that would be greatly appreciated,” Arante prompted icily.
“Of course,” answered Tierza, looking somewhat annoyed. “I was about to give that very command.”
Tierza signaled to their people on her right to lower their weapons. Laern did the same simultaneously to their people on his left. Once all of the weapons had been lowered, Tierza narrowed her eyes and zeroed in on Arante. Her voice remained perfectly modulated but her tone was icy around its edges.
“And you are?”
“Arante. My fancy title is Arante Karamatia Enaren, Princess of Trisakne and Duchess of Kelanarae. More commonly, Princess Arante to my people and our allies. Simply Arante to my friends. But since I’m really just Jharate’s cousin and one heck of a warrior— and because you are obviously not my friend or my ally— you may call me by my military rank— Lieutenant General Enaren.” Arante pointed at Jharate with her thumb when she mentioned his name.
“Charmed, I’m sure, Princess Arante.”
Arante looked as though she were one second away from launching three arrows at Tierza.
Tierza looked away from Arante, placed an inviting smile on her face, and changed back to her strong-yet-whimsical tone as she addressed the rest of them.
“You are all welcome to stay with us this night. Come. We have food and fresh water.”
Tierza gracefully waved her hand in a beckoning motion and she and Laern led the way. As they walked, Lani felt a twinge of an emotion that she couldn’t quite pinpoint. It felt somewhere between rage and terror. Whatever it was, it made her mouth feel salty.
Tierza was gorgeous, well spoken, and— worst of all— she was a new face. Lani feared Jharate might act impulsively— on the rebound. She had been working too hard to lose him now without a fight.
“Welcome to Alavnoran Sier,” Tierza greeted, as they reached the far left side of the mountain pass.
At first it looked like an ordinary solid pure-granite wall. As they followed Tierza forward, it became apparent that this was merely an illusion.
It reminded Lani of the scene in Labyrinth when Sarah finally discovers how to get into the wretched maze— only that opening was merely six feet wide, and twenty feet tall. The opening to Alavnoran Sier was easily twenty times the size. But, like the maze entrance in the movie, it maintained the illusion of being solid rock until you continued to walk “through” the rock to find that the wall wasn’t as close as it seemed.
Lani’s thoughts were happily diverted and a sense of awe overtook her as they entered the home of the Mountain Elves. Every inch of the colossal natural-rock cavern glowed with light from a white energy ball that was suspended in mid-air.
Purple crystals were embedded in the ceiling in a perfect circle above what served as the center of this hidden city and reflected the light in a million places. Streets radiated out in all directions into large elegant tunnels like the spokes of a wheel and Lani wondered how much of the mountain this wonderland occupied.
Drakne followed at the back of the group. As the last person in front of him passed inside, Drakne hit an unseen shield and an electric charge shocked him and catapulted him ten feet backwards through the air. He stood up, jerked his head to his right— cracking his vertebrae— and rolled his neck back into place. He glared at the completely invisible defense system.
“Confound those woodenheaded elves!” Drakne muttered to himself.
He glowered at the elves. They were such paranoid creatures! Apparently they had charms that protected the entrance so that only those invited in could pass— and since they could not see Drakne, he had not been invited.
He would have to wait until they came out the next day. He paced back and forth in front of the entrance. Suddenly he stopped. The right corner of his mouth curved into a twisted half-smile. He disappeared instantly from where he stood as he teleported out to put his new plan in motion.
“This way,” Tierza beckoned, as they took one of the streets that led deeper into the mountain.
The rebels followed. Lani stared in awe at the rib-vaulted ceilings and the intricate carvings on the walls and pillars that surrounded her on both sides. The indoor street/hallway they were walking through gave Lani a strong sense of having entered an enormous gothic cathedral, very similar to the interior of Notre Dame— if Notre Dame sparkled, were a little bit wider, and continued on and on, with no end in sight.
Elegant topiaries, shrubberies, and flowering trees in Provence urns on plinths lined both sides— in-between the connected pillared archways and the outer walls. The plants sparkled with miniscule orbs, which looked like diamonds catching sunlight.
With no energy ball suspended in this area, the grey granite stone of the mountain that this architectural masterpiece of a passageway had been carved into, reflected light from an unseen source— and from the radiant light of the brilliant citrine gemstones encrusting the ribs of the ceiling, which gave everything a soft warm glow.
Stained-glass windows were set at intervals on both sides to let light in. Lani theorized that this particular feature had to either be magic or illusion— based on the fact that they were literally inside of a mountain. A mystery that only made them more fa
scinating.
They continued to follow Tierza and Laern for a mile or two. There were fewer and fewer plants the further they walked— as more and more elaborate fountains and classic statues took their place.
At long last, they reached a colossal misty rose pink sandstone hemispherical dome resting on gigantic pendentives— complete with elaborate squinches— also carved into the now-sandstone metamorphosed mountain rock.
Hundreds of thousands of pink, teal, and white diamonds were embedded into the walls. With that many gems it could have easily been a gaudy disaster— but instead, it was breathtaking.
A giant white energy ball— like the one in the main entrance— floated in the center of the dome.
Fifty feet below the white energy ball, stood a large mansion that looked remarkably like the Panthéon in Paris. The columns with their Corinthian capitals. The large pediment and tympanum enclosing the elaborate frieze. The large dome sitting on top. All of it.
If Lani had not known that the portals had been closed at the time of their construction, she would have thought that a few elves had made it to Earth long ago and had helped design both the Panthéon and Notre Dame. Or— that the elves had visited Paris and had been inspired.
Regardless— there were only three real differences she could spot between the Panthéon and this building.
One, this structure was made out of a rose colored marble, which had been polished until it gleamed like glass.
Two, the scene depicted in the frieze was elven.
And three, a large glassy pool of crystal clear teal-colored water surrounded the entire building. Twenty-four dodecagonal marble stepping stones— which matched the building and looked as though they were floating on the surface of the water itself— formed the only apparent way to get across. Inlaid emerald and magenta ruby hummingbirds adorned the center of each stepping stone.