Chapter 11
Interpreting the Influence
An hour passed, and the fire continued to burn. At no point did Celesia ever have to add more wood.
Hilander slept, but she couldn’t rest. The book she had stumbled on contained information about the Royal Magical Family. She could’ve learned so much more, but that fairy wouldn’t allow her to stay. Celesia kept wondering why. Who was responsible for cursing her? And how did her mother come to possess the magical stone? When was this journey going to end? So many unanswered questions. And that fairy. She had seen an actual fairy! A sudden whirlwind commenced behind her, and Sarandretta reappeared with her fist clenched.
The chain around Celesia’s neck pulled against her as the mage released her hand. A new fragment of blue, crystal-like stone, flew from her hand. It merged into Celesia’s like two pools of molten lead. The gemstone came to rest against her chest, feeling twice as heavy.
“How remarkable!” Sarandretta cried. “We found it exactly where you said it would be. Flint told me all about your adventure with the elves, and how they had stumped themselves; clever creatures. Little elflings must have played with the gemstone and dropped it in the hollowed trunk of that tree. We saw no stumps or elves when we arrived, but we found evidence of Alkivar having visited the area. He must be onto what you and the others are searching for.”
“I know where another one is!” Celesia exclaimed. “I found this hidden chamber inside your closet, and my piece of the Heart reached for something in there.”
Sarandretta croaked. Her eyes widened with dismay “And you went inside?” She moved Celesia aside and opened the door. The same bland closet appeared. “Tell me you didn’t go in.”
“I did,” Celesia replied. “I should’ve stayed put.”
The mage shook her head. “I should’ve had sense enough to warn you first. How did you come back?”
“There was this fairy—she opened the door for me.”
“You don’t have a scratch? Taika didn’t scathe you?”
Not knowing what details to offer, Celesia shrugged.
“It’s of no matter,” Sarandretta sighed with another wide smile. “I’ll be able to fix this, but it looks like you will reach that chamber faster on foot than I can repair this damage. Doorports aren’t easy on the magic.”
“Then you know where the chamber is?”
“I don’t make a habit of opening doorports without knowing where they lead to—and this one leads to an underground study of Ereman’s, under the ruins of LaVóndia. That’s where you and your companions will be traveling next.” The mage removed her wand. “Before you say anything more, there is something I must do before I have a few last words with you.”
The mage pointed at the sleeping stallion. The horse disappeared. Groth hadn’t come back with her, either.
Celesia shivered. “You wish to speak alone?”
“What I have to say is for your ears, for now. You can divulge to them what you wish, after we are done. At least the liabilities won’t rest on me. I figure, since you’re more or less a woman of age, you have a right to know the reason behind your quirks. Have a seat.”
“Quirks?!” Celesia asked as she sat on the sofa.
“I knew your mother,” the mage answered without reprieve. “Clariön was a pupil of mine when she was about your age, when I lived in the forest. She was an orphan then, a beekeeper’s assistant in Cloverville, northeast of this swamp. The day she discovered that I was a Castor of Magic, she wanted to learn more about my craft. Thinking I could do what Ereman had done for King Axel, I began to teach her. I was mistaken. The stone you wear around your neck was a gift to her. I found it in the woods, not far from my home. Perhaps it was best for me to give it to her, for safe keeping, after she’d found favor in the eyes of Prince Lýnivad.”
Celesia couldn’t believe what she was hearing—stories of her mother that she never heard. “I knew she wasn’t a princess, but my father expects me to marry a prince. Why then, when he didn’t marry a princess?”
Sarandretta shook her head with another thin smile, and she started to pace. “That is the magic of love. It’s always been the most powerful magic that any creature can possess, because it has no boundaries. It can bind hearts, lift enchantments, and liberate the oppressed. The rules of men and creatures of myth will never hinder the power of love, even if they once felt its charm and have forgotten its warmth over time. Speaking of enchantments, this is where you come in.”
“You’re not putting a spell on me, are you?”
The mage laughed. “I would rather have you say enchantment,” Sarandretta clarified. “But no, I will not enchant you. I will rather inform you, however, of the enchantment that’s already placed on you.”
Celesia stared at the woman. “Already?”
“Yes, and before I answer that, I must enlighten you, so you will have a better understanding of my words, and not despise me.” The mage paused to catch her breath. “Your mother was able to master one form of magic—the gift of foresight. A seer’s quality. She was miraculously gifted with that power, so naturally, we expounded on it. She often visited, even after marrying your father. One day, she came to my home in tears.
“She confided in me about her expected child. I didn’t understand why she was so upset, but then she told me that the child would be a girl. That makes you, Celesia, the first Princess born in LaVóndia in a very long time. Your mother knew the story of my youth in old LaVóndia, so she feared Alkivar’s return into this world, because of her. Or rather, because of you.” The mage cleared her throat. “She then asked me if anything could be done to stop this. One solution came to mind, although the enchantment would drain her life away.”
“My mother gave her life, to enchant me?”
Sarandretta bowed her head with a mournful frown. “The power needed to complete the enchantment left her lifeless. That same power ensured your survival. You have been protected well ever since, even in your journey to find me, and in the journey you are about to continue. This also explains why my stilling charm had no effect. You have your mother’s influence.”
Influence?
Celesia’s father had said something to that effect.
“It means you are protected from magic. At least, magic that would cause you harm. It can’t touch you.”
“I see,” Celesia said. “She did that for me?”
“Yes, and that was the first and only time I had ever seen her cry. She was so strong and spirited. When she came to me in tears that night, she cried from the thought of losing you to Alkivar. He is a Castor of Magic, you see. If you were to fall under his hand, he would use you to reclaim the Dragon’s Heart. Your mother died because she loved you even before she saw your face. That love has shielded you from Alkivar’s influence, and every prince he may have impersonated.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Dearie,” the mage sighed. “Your mother asked me to enchant you against ever finding love with a prince. You were to fall into a stupor and lose consciousness the moment love was about to enter your heart.”
Celesia tried to speak. That’s it? She was enchanted against finding love with a prince? Although this was starting to make perfect sense, given how she’d always treated princes so poorly without any knowledge of ever doing so, her curse sounded completely imbecilic.
All she could do was place her hands on her knees.
“I had thought it something of a curse all this time, never to be rid of it. This truly does explains a lot.”
“Taking it rather well, I see.” Sarandretta quickly changed the subject. “If there was ever a chance that Alkivar could turn himself into a prince, he would stop at nothing to have your hand. Your birth signified his return from the Realm of no Return where the deceased dwell. Having any power over you would ensure his dominion over the land and its people, magical or not. And with the Dragon’s Heart in his care, he would be unstoppable—and you would be subjected to his will.”
> “Why me? I have no magic of my own.”
“As the only princess in LaVóndia, you do.”
The mage stood and walked for a small bookshelf next to the hearth. She flipped through an old piece of parchment, and encouraged Chelsea to read:
A name from the Princess may liberate us—
“A name?” Celesia asked. “What name?”
“When Alkivar was afoot, there were no princesses outside the Royal Magical Family.” Sarandretta placed a hand on her old chin. Her glass eye shimmered with an orange glow from the firelight. “That parchment was found beneath Flint, soon after the palace fell. Ereman conjured such a powerful spell before he shattered the Dragon’s Heart. I believe that Flint is no mere dragon.”
“What else could he be?”
“Human,” Sarandretta answered. “There is enough to suggest that Flint was saved by the transformation of a human into a dragon, by the cunning of Ereman.”
This news was too much for Celesia to handle. She moved to the other side of the room, feeling trapped inside a web of secrets, all of them crafted long before the world ever knew her. Was she destined to save her kingdom, liberate something, or someone? The mage maintained a look of patience. She hummed a calming melody, a lullaby that Celesia’s father used to sing.
“Relax, dearie,” Sarandretta assured her. “The more we uncover, the sooner we can end this. You are a piece of a puzzle, which Ereman was famous for creating.”
“But, if he died before I was born, how could he possibly choose me?”
“I knew Ereman. Understand that he created this puzzle with Alkivar in mind, to keep the alchemist from discovering his plan to restore magic. I granted you the gift of a quick mind when I enchanted you. No one is better suited for this task of finding answers than you.”
“Forgive me,” Celesia said. She couldn’t resist the truth any longer. “You’ve shared a great deal with me. Most of my questions are answered, thanks to you.”
“Are you prepared to hear more?”
Celesia nodded. “Yes, I will listen.”
“Good,” Sarandretta replied, sitting gently beside the princess. “I know how to break your enchantment, and I think I know how Flint’s can be broken as well. Your enchantment is not a complicated one. All you have to do is discover your true love and receive his kiss.”
Celesia’s first reaction was to laugh. “Just like in a fairytale.” She then placed her arms in a fold across her chest. “That will be somewhat complicated if my true love has to be a prince.”
“Is there someone in your heart now?”
“No one,” Celesia said, although that wasn’t exactly the truth. She thought of Tuke, and the stolen kiss they had shared in the stables. If he was her true love, did his kiss already lift her curse? She wouldn’t know unless she tried to fall in love with a prince again. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Prince Dálcort is Alkivar. He’s pompous and foolhardy enough. He tried to break Hilander with one riding, and he swore he would stay in my kingdom for months until I was forced to marry him.”
“Sounds like a dangerous man,” the mage uttered. “You do your best to stay away from him, but I wasn’t asking about suitors that you hate. Is there a young man whom you fancy? Any young man at all?”
It was as though the mage could see through her.
“Well, there is a boy ... His name is Tuke.”
“The throws of young love—I would advise you to think of him after your journey is through,” Sarandretta warned. “It is better if he is not involved in this, unless he can truly be of help to our cause. Only trust myself and the three companions awaiting you outside.”
It was hard for Celesia to accept this, but there was no loophole in the mage’s wisdom. For Tuke’s sake, it would be better to leave him out of this quest. Now that Celesia understood the truth, and was taking it far easier than she had anticipated, it was a comfort knowing that she was correct about a curse. Thinking of Tuke’s help when she escaped the castle made her wish to see him one more time, before traveling deeper into LaVóndia. Above all others, she missed him most. What remained a mystery was what the dragon refused to tell her.
“What of Flint’s enchantment?”
“His is far worse than yours. Alkivar tainted some of his enchantment with foul magic. Based on the piece of parchment I showed you, it is clear that a princess of LaVóndia must say his name, his true name, correctly. If a princess announced him by any other name, other than his own true name, he would stay a dragon forever. If he hints or reveals his name to another, he would die on the spot. Or rather, the dragon would take over. I learned the details of his curse by searching his mind when he came to me. What makes this more difficult is that Flint knows not what his name is. No one does.”
Celesia snapped her fingers. “I think I understand, now! When I first met Flint, I wanted to make sure I remembered his name, so I said ’your name is’ and he stopped me. Rather harshly, I might add.”
“A good thing he did stop you!” the mage agreed. “If you had finished your statement, he would’ve lost his human nature and turned into a carnal dragon for the remainder of his days. That reminds me. Please, do tell, has he shown you any act of kindness in your journey?”
“Kindness? From Flint?” Celesia couldn’t help but laugh at the idea. “He’s not exactly the easiest creature to travel with, but he did shelter me with his wing once, when it was raining over our camp.”
“Excellent!” Sarandretta jumped with elation. “No typical dragon would ever lend a wing to assist a human, or anything else. He is human under those scales, and I believe he is the last of the Royal Magical Family.”
“Then, wouldn’t that make him—a prince?”
“Indeed! For you see, Queen Rhea foresaw a sixth child,” the mage clarified. “Dragons cannot cast magic, but Flint can. How is that possible unless his parents had come from magical influences? No dragon has that! This means he didn’t absorb magic from the outcome of Ereman and Alkivar’s duel. Flint is the sixth child!”
“A prince? That stubborn creature is a prince?”
Sarandretta smiled. “And how are you taking him?”
“Well ... I haven’t tried to hurt him or anything.”
“Because he’s not human. He is impervious to your curse. That being the case, you had better find a way to reverse it, or he will remain a dragon forever!” The mage sighed quietly. “I would advise you, of all we have discussed, do not speak of this to Flint. He doesn’t know what I have told you. For many good reasons, it is better that he accepts his current state as a dragon.”
Celesia understood. “What must I do?”
“Complete three tasks: Unravel the quaternary, find and restore the Dragon’s Heart fragments, discover Flint’s true name, and make him human again.”
Celesia smirked. “That’s four tasks.”
“Well, I didn’t want to burden you with too many details,” the mage cackled. “How this is going to help you restore the land of its magic, I know not. Finding other Castors of Magic to help you is the obvious first step, and how to find Flint’s true name when there is no written history of a sixth child born, I will leave that up to your imagination. I bet your companions must be anxious to start moving for the ruins of LaVóndia. I will guide you to them after I give you a gift. Winter is upon us. You need this more than that cape of yours.”
Celesia wanted to ask more questions, but she was too tired to protest. Sarandretta opened her closet and removed an old cloak that matched the colors of her room, and a riding dress that once belonged to Clariön.
Nothing fancy, just the top and a skirt of a common maiden. She further explained how the cloak would provide its wearer with warmth in the winter, and cool air in the summer. Sarandretta waved her wand again and opened the oak door that Celesia had traversed through once before. She then followed the mage until they reached the mouth of the cave. The others were glad to see her emerge from the dark, including Flint.
He seemed to be the firs
t to notice that her stone had doubled in size. A sly smile crept up his jaw again.
Celesia imagined this smile on a human boy, where her mind’s eye created a surprisingly handsome face.
Chapter 12
Shooing the Apprentice
The company reached a leafless sylvan at the edge of the swamp before nightfall the next day. Groth gathered enough wood for a fire as Flint inspected the area above the trees. The others chattered with excitement over finding another piece of the Dragon’s Heart, all while Celesia was content on keeping to herself. A great deal of speculation and responsibility had weighed her down, both in body and in spirit. Flint seemed to notice this more than the stallion or the ogre, but he didn’t say a thing. It was wise on his part to keep to himself as well.
Winter was dawning, just as the mage had said. What few leaves remained on the trees carried a laciniated look, with strong spikes that clung to Celesia’s skirt.
What protection can this cloak offer me?
It was thinner than her old one, but more pleasant to look at. She had to admit how warm and comfortable she felt after sunset, when she noticed a thin layer of frost on the grass. Groth suddenly called for her with a panicked voice. He jumped when she answered him.
“Bless my gizzards,” Groth panted. “I didn’t see you there with your cowl on. You were but fifteen feet away and vanished—blended in with what’s behind you.”
“I see nothing different. What did you see?”
Groth held out his arm. “Lend me your cloak.”
Celesia gave it to him, and he shoved his thick arms through the sleeves. She worried that he would stretch the fabric into a tent, but Groth assured her that she had nothing to worry about. His figure meshed with the dusk and trees behind him, his outline still visible to her, because she knew where he was. Although not invisible, anyone could have easily overlooked him, as he had her.
Hilander returned from a spring, asking where Groth had gone to. The ogre then crept up to the stallion and tugged on his tail. The horse screamed and kicked the laughing ogre to the ground. The cloak slipped off.
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