Ellenessia's Curse Book 1: The Shadow's Seer

by Fran Jacobs

  "Why is it called the Rose Prophecies?" Teveriel asked curiously, reaching out to stroke the cover.

  "After Lady Elyann, the White Rose," Calran explained.

  Teveriel looked startled. "I don't understand," he said.

  Calran tilted his head. "You know the story?" he asked. "That she was prophesised to destroy her own kingdom?"

  "Yes," Teveriel said, somewhat impatiently. "Of course."

  "The prophecy came from her. Lady Elyann had visions and she saw her own kingdom fall. She also saw that a white rose, her symbol, was part of it. She knew that, somehow, it would be her fault. But she had other dreams, too, of the Shadow Seer, as both child and man, although she didn't call him that." He stroked the cover softly. "Hers is the oldest record that we have now, everything else has been lost to the ages, but even that is nearly in pieces. In fact, this book is a copy of a copy, as both the original, and the first copy, are far too old to be handled. They're kept in a glass case."

  "I wanted to see it," I said softly, unable to hide my disappointment.

  "And I will let you see it," Calran said. "But you cannot touch it. No one can. Not even Tival. It's simply too old. You can look at it through the glass." He stroked the cover of the book again, almost as though it were his lover. "Believe me, this is a perfect copy of the original. Even the copies of the copies are exact, down to their spelling mistakes." He sighed. "Soon, I fear, I will be forced to copy out this copy and have this book join the others behind glass, it's getting so old. You cannot touch the pages with your fingers, you must turn them over using these." He handed me a small pair of tweezers. "And if you must touch a page do so by the edge only." His eyes were nervous. "Please, promise me, you will take care of this book!"

  "Of course," I said. "Of course I will."

  "It was really Lady Elyann?" Teveriel whispered, incredulously. "She was her own prophet!"

  "Yes," Calran said. "She was. The story was changed to the version that we know now, about the old woman who came to her in the woods on her sixteenth birthday and revealed it to her, because it made it more exciting. But out there," he waved his arm towards the library through the open door, "is the truth. Those books recall everything that they can, from history and legend."

  Teveriel's eyes were suddenly very bright and I knew exactly what it was that he wanted to do. While I read over this book, he would want to explore the library for the sources of the songs and stories that he knew.

  "Lady Elyann was very powerful," Calran continued. "Where many seers forget their dreams and visions, straight after telling them, leaving others to write them down, she remembered everything and wrote them down herself. But this means that her journal contains both her prophecies, some of the Shadow Seer and some not, and her normal dreams, as she was not always able to tell the difference. The book is also muddled. It was written as she had the dreams and, as she didn't have them in chronological order, the ones about the Seer are recalled randomly. The ones at the start of the book are those that she had as a child, while those towards the back are the ones she had as she got older. I think the ones she had as an adult will be more useful for you, but you will need to read through the whole book, I'm afraid. Otherwise you might miss something small that may still be of importance to you."

  I nodded. "All right."

  "Now, I think that we shall leave you to it. I'll be in the main library, if you need me."

  "Thank you," I said. I drew back the plush armchair and sat down.

  "And I'll be outside this door," Trellany said.

  "All right." I didn't look back as they left me, just opened the soft leather cover of the Rose Prophecies, breathed in the musty, old book smell, picked up the small silver tweezers and, with nervous anticipation, I started to read.

  It was a long, slow process. The writing was small and curled, which made it hard to work out, at least at first, and, as Calran had warned me, the book wasn't organised. It was just page after page of writing with no dates or headings, to separate one entry from the next, so I had to read every single line or I might miss something. And it wasn't just her dreams written down there either, but her own personal comments about them, what she thought they might mean and what she had thought, or felt, during it as well. Those comments were spread randomly throughout the dream descriptions, sometimes even in the middle of one, which meant that they were impossible to avoid. Considering that the whole book was just a copy, I really couldn't understand why, whoever had copied it, hadn't at least put in some spaces, or headings. Yes, there was something to be said for copying something exactly, to have a perfect replica for historical purposes, and to give you better understanding of the woman who had written the original. But, there was even more to be said for being able to read the damn thing without going cross-eyed in the process.

  Calran had left me parchment, an inkpot and pen, and sand to dry the ink with, so that I could take down notes of anything that I found important, or wanted to keep for later reference, but I filled that page with frustrating slowness. In the early pages of the book, the only references I found were that she had had dreams of a man with violet eyes. As she had grown older, and her dreams had become a little more personal and detailed enough to bring a flush to my cheeks, the references to the man with violet eyes had become more frequent. But so had some of her thoughts about him, thoughts that made me squirm in my seat. It was an odd experience to be reading the dreams that someone else had had of you and to know that that person had thought you handsome.

  Calran came in to see me, bringing me a cup of tea and a small plate of almond biscuits. He warned me, needlessly, not to get crumbs or to spill any tea on the book. I thanked him in a distracted sort of way, but only took a sip of the tea and a bite out of one biscuit, before I turned back to the book, my drink and plate soon forgotten.

  Then I heard the sound of a bell ringing, signifying the start of the next class, following an afternoon of mage training.

  "Candale," Trellany said, rapping on the door. "We have to go."

  "Gods, I hardly got anywhere," I complained. "Can't you make some excuse?"

  "I'm the teacher of your next class," she told me. "And, no, I cannot make some excuse to myself! Your grandfather wants you to fit in here and I agree with him. For safety's sake it's the best thing. You can continue this tomorrow."

  "And the day after," I grumbled miserably. "And the day after that. This is going to take me forever. There are over three hundred pages in this book. I have to read every single one carefully and it takes hours to make out one word!"

  "You exaggerate," Trellany told me. "Come on. I want to get outside while there's still some light left, and I think the exercise will be good for you."

  "I doubt there's any light left," I told her. "And I don't think I could concentrate on anything."

  "Well," Trellany said, in a voice that allowed no arguments, "you're going to have to try."

  I grumbled under my breath as I followed her back into the main library, where Calran and Teveriel sat at a table, surrounded by books. "I will put a marker between the pages for you so that you do not lose your place," Calran told me, as I drew close to him.

  "Thank you," I said.

  "Did you find anything useful?" Teveriel asked me.

  "If you can call the fact that the Lady Elyann thought the violet eyed man in her dreams was attractive, and one of her dreams of him had him riding on horseback through the rain, then yes, what I found was very helpful." I sighed. "It's just going to take time, that's all. A long, long time. I could always come back tonight after supper?" I asked that hopefully, but Calran shook his head.

  "Not a wise idea, Prince Candale. Students might very well be in here preparing for class and we don't want anyone to know what you're doing."

  "We have the whole winter," Teveriel said cheerfully, seeing the disappointed look on my face.

  I just sighed again, more a groan, really. "Calran, is there any way you can help me? You must have read this book. Is there an
ything that you can tell me about it?"

  "I can tell you what it says, of course," Calran told me. "I can tell you about every single prophecy, concerning the Shadow Seer, that she had and also what later seers saw, as I wrote my own book on this topic many years ago, but do you really want to read everything second hand?"

  "No," I said softly. "I suppose not." Lykeia had taught me that no one could really be trusted and, with something this important, I really had to see for myself what had been said.

  "I thought as much," Calran said. "If it were me, I doubt that I'd be easily able to trust another man's words. But, if you like, I can still lend you my book. It does, at least, bring together all the various references to the Shadow Seer and will tell you in which books you will then have to look if you want to see the original. I had planned to bring it along with the Rose Prophesies, when I came to Carnia Castle in the spring, but as you're here now I can get it for you."

  "Yes," I said, trying not to snap at him. Why hadn't he offered me this book before? Even though I wanted to read the Rose Prophecies for myself, Calran's book sounded like it might be helpful reading. Perhaps it would help to break down all of Lady Elyann's complex script so that I had a better understanding of what she was talking about. "Thank you. I would really appreciate that."

  Calran smiled, a faint rose colour staining his cheeks. He was beginning to remind me of some of the girls at Court, who would blush and giggle nervously when I paid them some compliment. "I will have it brought to your rooms tonight," he told me.

  "Thank you." Then I had a sudden thought and, resting my hands on the back of a chair, I asked, "Have you ever heard about the Order of C-Culdenth Hyun?" Calran gave me a blank look of confusion. "They ... they tried to kill me because they believe that I'm the Seer. I was told that they're a really old institution and I just wondered if you knew anything about them, if you'd come across something about them while doing your research."

  "No," Calran said, his brow creased thoughtfully. "I cannot say that I have. Do you know anything more about them? It's an Idryan name; are they an Idryan organisation?"

  "I-I don't know, but the letters that mentioned them were written in Idryan," I said.

  "Ah, then it's likely that's where they're based, in which case, it's no wonder that I haven't heard of them. Idryan, as I'm sure you know, Prince Candale, is similar, in many ways, to how Carnia used to be, before King Sorron came to the throne. The majority of people cannot read or write; it's something reserved solely for nobles, the Royal Family, or a handful of scholars and advisors to the king. But, unlike in Carnia, where we've always kept very detailed records, Idryan tends to only record what's important in the annals. Everything else is passed on orally. Whoever wrote these letters must be fairly important to be able to read or write at all, a scholar at least, if not a noble or member of the Royal Family." His brow creased. "There might be more about this Order in the annals, if they're important, but those are kept very private and certainly wouldn't be available to me. Mages, as I'm sure you know, aren't welcome there."

  "Oh," I said. I tried not to be too disappointed about this. It would have been nice to have been able to offer information to my grandfather, when I saw him again, that would help him find out more about those who were such a threat to me, but it couldn't be helped. Sorron would find out what he needed to in other ways, ways that would, no doubt, involve more use of the Truth Stone.

  I turned to face Teveriel. "I have to leave now," I said. "Are you coming?"

  "No," he told me. "I'm going to stay here. I'm really interested in learning the sources for all those songs. I'll see you back in our rooms, after supper, I guess."

  "Fine," I sighed, though it really wasn't. I wanted to stay here and read some more and it was unfair that he was able to and I wasn't. I thrust my notes into his hands. "You can take these back to the room with you then."

  "All right," he said, setting them down on the table with barely a glance. "So, Calran," he said, turning back to the older man. "Prince Mortan and the fifty dragons ..."

  I sighed again and turned away. "Come on, then," I said to Trellany. "Let's get this over with."

  "That's a good attitude to have," Trellany told me dryly, "and I'm sure it will get you a long way."

  "I can't help it," I told her. "I had the book in my hands, all the answers could have been in there and they could have been mine by nightfall, but I have to do this instead."

  "You would have gone blind and become a crippled, curled up prince, Candale," she told me, opening the library door for me. "Knotted up in that chair, squinting into that book, if you had stayed there for much longer."

  I didn't want to tell her that that was how I actually felt, twisted and curled up, and my head was throbbing from trying to make out the words for so long.

  "And I would have gone mad if I'd to stand guard outside your room like that," she continued, "staring at the same shelves of books, for much longer."

  "You really just stood there? The whole time?"

  "Of course." She seemed surprised that I'd asked. "Where else would I go? I had to be prepared for anything."

  "Oh," I said. That made me feel guilty. I could handle a few hours in the practise yard if Trellany had managed three hours standing still outside the door like that.

  It was cold outside, dark and windy. The muscled weapons master was there, with eight shivering students. A little further away stood ten or so more, the remains of the weapons class I'd seen the day before. Only twenty students learnt to fight, out of the fifty or so here at the school. The others must be too young, or too old, to take part.

  The weapons master gave me an odd look as I approached with Trellany, almost a frown, probably remembering how I'd disrupted his class the day before. "These are the best students," he told her grimly. "If you can really call them that. Most seem to find it offensive to do any work with a weapon, when they have their precious magic. Try explaining to them that, in another kingdom, they might be put to death for using that magic of theirs, even to save their life, and that they should learn weapon work as a backup."

  "I'm used to that sort of attitude," Trellany said. "I've taught precious lords how to defend themselves for years, listening, all the while, to them complain about how they will always have guards around to do that for them. Try explaining to them that guards sometimes betray the ones who pay them, or even, that they might not be around should an attack come suddenly, while they're in bed, or the bathhouse." She glanced at me pointedly. "Go over there," she said, gesturing vaguely towards the other students, five girls and three boys.

  That was interesting. The girls were better than the boys. In Carnia Castle, with the exception of Aylara and two of her female friends, most of the ladies didn't bother to learn sword work because of the calluses and blisters it sometimes gave them and the damage it did to their nails, despite the gloves they insisted on wearing.

  I joined them, but found that I didn't recognise any of them, which was a shame. I had hoped that maybe Hazel, or Silver, or, at the worst, even Willow, would be here, someone that I knew. But clearly my luck just wasn't in.

  Trellany organised us into pairs so that we could spar against each other. In an attempt to avoid making it looking like favouritism she paired me up with a tall, rather gangly girl, called Belyisia, rather than with herself. For the first half an hour we sat shivering in the cold, while Trellany gave us instructions, and then, we sat around, watching two of the pairs spar with each other. I paid attention for about five minutes, just long enough to realise that they were all better than I was, faster, stronger, and with better reflexes, before I stopped paying attention to it completely. Instead I sat there, with my arms wrapped around myself, staring off into the distance, only vaguely aware of the clatter of foils, the gasps of exertion and the sound of boots scraping on the cobbles.

  When I was called up for my turn, I still wasn't paying that much attention to anything that was going on. While my body went through the movements, half
-heartedly defending myself, my mind was back in that small study. I longed to be there, reading the Rose Prophecies. My mind was filled with thoughts of what I might discover, what might have been foretold for me and how it would feel to show Teveriel, triumphantly, some small detail that was undeniable proof that I was the Seer. That would shut him up, and Trellany, too, and then they would have to believe what Talira had said, about my Companions and their own roles in my life. I was desperate to find that one small detail, but the book was back in the library with Teveriel, and I was stuck out here in the cold yard. It wasn't fair!

  A hard blow to my side brought me back to my senses and I cried out in pain, dropping my practise blade on the cobbles with a loud clatter. "Gods!" I gasped. "For Drakan's sake!"

  "I thought you'd move," Belyisia told me, her brown eyes wide with shock. She panted miserably, pushing a sweaty lock of mousy hair out her eyes. "Are you all right, Candale?"

  "It bloody hurts," I told her. I pulled up my tunic to see the bright red smear spreading slowly across my ribs. I touched it lightly with my fingers and pain speared through my body.

  Trellany slapped my hands down. "Stop playing with it," she snapped. "You're like a damn child!" But I could see worry in her eyes. "Oh, gods, I'm meant to be looking after you."

  "It's my fault," I said. "I'm distracted."

  "Yes," she agreed. "It is your fault, you are distracted, but I knew that and I should have known better than to give you a weapon, but, Candale, you really have to keep your mind on what you are doing, no matter what else is trying to draw your attention."

  "I know, I know," I told her. "I'm sorry."

  Trellany grunted. "You're a damn idiot," she told me. "Do you need to see Dynild, the healer?"

  "No," I said. "It's all right. You still have that lotion back in the suite. I think that will be enough. It's just another bruise."