The Dragoness ProphecyA Chapter by ArianaChapter One
The De La Luna Gypsies
Rika stepped away from the sad departure hug she had just shared with her father. Small strands of her ink black hair floated in the breeze around her, becoming entangled in her necklace and earrings. She ignored them, smiling into her fathers teary blue eyes. He patted her head, and smiled wearily. “I’ll miss you, papa.” She said, clenching her hands into fists at her sides out of agitation. He nodded sadly, afraid that if he spoke, he would start crying. Rika looked down at her shoeless feet and then turned to her very sullen mother. She reached for her mothers’ hands and held them. “Mother, I’m sorry.” Was all Rika had to say to her mother; she dropped her mothers’ hands suddenly, and then turned her back on her family and friends. What she saw when she turned was caravans and wagons and trailers, people and animals. She walked hastily toward them, when she was stopped by a woman in red and white robes. When Rika looked closely at her face, she saw that her eyes were completely white. Her face was that of a kind woman, but she looked younger then she probably was. She also looked very intelligent. “Who are you?” Rika asked, trying to sound polite. It was obvious this woman was blind, but it was hard not to stare at her eyes. The woman did not change her expression, and she kept her hands folded in front of her; there was a jade green, or ruby red, ring on each of her fingers. “I am Theresa, though some call me the Seer; others, Star gazer, or Star reader. Maybe I’m a fortune teller.” She said, and smiled softly. “But that matters not; the real question is, who are you?” Rika did not know what to say. She looked stunned. “I am Rikana Eleanora Palsner, daughter of Mara and Paul Palsner. That is it.” She said. The woman Theresa, smiled softly for a second time. “So you say. But that is not your true name, or title. You shall know soon enough. Come, child.” She said, reaching for Rika’s hands. Rika was stunned; how could this woman possibly say something so bafflingly crazy with such confidence? All the same, Rika placed her right hand into Theresa’s, and she was led into the middle of it all. She was greeted by all of the people in the De La Luna Circus, and being kissed on the cheeks and hands, being hugged and tossed about like a doll in a crowd of small girls. There was one lady with a large snake wrapped around her neck, which surprised Rika. She had never really liked snakes and other slimy creatures of the sort. Rika remembered the time when she was only a small child and a lizard had crawled it’s way into her bedroom. It had made a home for itself in her wardrobe, and when Sunday Church had come around, Rika discovered it in her Sunday dress. Oh, how she had screamed and cried. She laughed about it now, but at the time, she had been very frightened. Two girls, who looked like twins, each took a hold of one of Rika’s arms. They talked about how fun it would be with a new gypsy around. They smiled at her happily, and dragged her along to a wagon with a white top. The helped her inside, and soon enough it started moving. All the other wagons and trailers followed pursuit and the De La Luna Circus was on its way.
*** The two girls who had brought Rika to their wagon told her that their names were Celeste and Tamara. They showed Rika her new clothes and shoes, her makeup and jewelry, even where she was going to sleep. She smiled to her new roommates and listened politely. Then Tamara clicked her tongue and put her hands on her hips, saying, “Your hair is simply boring.” She said the word ‘boring’ as though it was the worst possible thing in the world. Celeste took a closer look at Rika and nodded in simple agreement. Tamara pushed Rika down into a small wooden chair and pulled out her hairpins. Rika’s thin black hair fell in elegant curls down to her hips, and Tamara gasped. “You have the most beautiful hair! You’ll make a gypsy for sure.” “Of course she will.” A deep, unmistakably masculine voice said from the other side of the wagon. Tamara, Celeste, and Rika all turned around quickly. Rika was surprised, and when she stood up, she knocked a mirror of the vanity table she had been seated at. Rika gasped and reached for it, but it fell to the floor and smashed. Rika was still barefoot, and she stumbled back so she wouldn’t step on the glass. She tripped over the low chair, and started to fall backwards. She shrieked, her icy blue eyes closing to prepare for impact. Tamara shrieked to, jumping back out of the way. Just before she hit the floor, a strong pair of hands gripped her arms, saving her from smashing hard into the wooden floor of the wagon. When Rika opened her eyes again, she the face of a handsome young man; he could not have been much older then she, maybe two years or so. A crooked smile formed on his face as he looked down at her. “Did you have a nice trip?” He whispered to her, trying to make a joke of it. Rika kicked her feet over the chair and planted them firmly on the ground underneath her, standing up quickly. She cleared her throat, brushing the dirt off of her velvet green dress. She looked back up at the man, and smiled, her ruby red lips stretching into a beautiful and enchanting grin. He watched her face, the crooked smile remaining on his face. Tamara cleared her throat. “Yes, well, Rika, this is James Collins. He’s a…magician, if you dare to call it that.” She said, smiling wickedly in his direction. “Now Tamara, please be kind to your fellows.” Someone else said; this voice, however, was female. Rika remembered that voice; it was Theresa. Tamara looked ashamed. “Yes, Miss Theresa.” She performed a small curtsy, even though Theresa couldn’t see it. Rika looked between Theresa and the strange man. She could sense something…familiar between the two of them. Of course, she couldn’t guess exactly what it was, but she sensed a strange history. Theresa smiled slightly. “Rika, meet my son.” She extended her hand towards James, who took a small bow. “Rika, is it?” He asked, taking hold of her right hand and planting a small kiss on it. Rika nodded. “Yes, sir.” She said in her soft voice. He smiled; he thought that voice sounded like silk, or tea and honey. “No need to be formal, miss. This is a circus, not the English Castle.” He smiled, straightening. He was wearing a sleek black suit, in which he looked very handsome. She blushed suddenly, remembering that she was still wearing her simple commoner dress; with the torn skirt with patches, and the popper sleeves with cheap bargained lace embroidering the neckline and waistline. She also tried to hide the fact the she was bare foot. “Now James, I’m sure the young lady would like to get dressed and get some shoes on her feet.” Tamara said, taking hold of Rika’s right arm. Celeste nodded, taking hold of her left. “Yes, yes, of course.” She said, watching the sly smile creep across her sisters’ face. James put his hands in the air to signal surrender. “Now, now, no need to gang up on the poor magician.” He said, smiling at Rika. “Until we meet again, fair lady.” He took another bow, and then hopped out of the wagon. From the small space between the white curtains and the wooden floor, Rika could see him grab hold of a handle that was attached to a carriage, almost directly behind their wagon. “Now Tamara, I’m sure you and Celeste will take good care of our new Gypsy?” Theresa asked, her face once again hidden in her red and white cloaks. She then also disappeared from the wagon, following her son. Tamara smiled, turning to face Rika. “Would you like to get dressed now, Madame Rikana?” Rika wondered how she knew her full name, but nodded politely. She was again pulled to the other side f the wagon and sat down in front of the mirror. A brush was dragged, non-to kindly, through her deep black hair. Rika closed her eyes in attempt to shut out the pain, and the bumping and jostling of the wagon going down the road. As soon as her eyes were closed, Rika was in a state of meditation; she was unaware of what was happening around her.
***
When Rika opened her eyes at long last, she was in a beautiful outfit. Her skirt was a silky soft brown color, with a belt that hung loose over her hips. This belt was made out of soft fabric, with bells interlaced into the threads. Her shirt was only barely so; it covered her chest and ribs, but showed all of her stomach, and most of her back; it had two straps that tied around her neck in a less-than-elegant manner, and a plunging neck line that made her only slightly uncomfortable. She was draped in a see through shawl, with beads tied to the loose threads that bounced and clicked when she moved. To top it off, she had long and colorful earrings that brushed her collarbone. Her hair was in a ponytail that started on top of her head, and spilled down to her lower back. The thing that held it in place was made of thick leather; it was jaded with beads and stones, though. Her eyes looked darker with the make up they had patted onto her face, and her cheekbones higher and more visual. Her lips were dark and blood red; they also looked fuller and even shapelier. Rika was stunned; she had never, in her entire life, looked so beautiful. She was surprised at herself; she never thought she had the potential to look so…royal like. That is what she looked like; a princess, a queen. “I…I look so…” Rika tried to finish her sentence, but found it was impossible to find the correct endings. Tamara giggled, a high-pitched sound that was disturbing and yet settling at the same time. Rika smiled at herself in the mirror, reaching up a hand to touch her cheeks; she couldn’t believe what they had done to her. She turned her head, her ponytail swinging gently, and she met Celeste’s eyes. “Beautiful.” Rika finished finally, smiling with delight and wonder. She also had not noticed that the wagon had stopped moving; they were setting up camp for the night. There was suddenly a strong, masculine voice from behind them once again. “My, my, you look simply extraordinary.” Rika turned swiftly, meeting the eyes of James Collins. “James, you frightened me!” Rika said scornfully; Tamara smiled wickedly, as if it pleased her to see Rika scolding James. Rika gathered her skirts in her hands and stepped towards him. “Didn’t any one ever tell you that you oughtn’t sneak up on women like that?” “I’m sorry Madame, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He said, a crooked smile playing on his lips. His smile cooled Rika’s temper, and made her blush. Tamara then crossed her arms and huffed, clicking her long fingernails against the hard metal arm brace that was placed on the top of her arm. “Well, if you to are quite finished with your moment, we have a dinner to cook. Rika, why don’t you go with the ‘magician’ and find a tree to climb.” Tamara said sourly, grabbing her sister and dragging her away. Rika felt insulted. “That was rude, and from a lady? Tisk, tisk.” James said, shaking his head. “I hope she did not dampen your spirits, Miss Rika?” He asked, bringing back the crooked smile. Rika shook her head, snapping out of her trance. She had not realized she was staring at him until he said her name; she had been caught up in his deep blue eyes, which were so rare, and his long eye lashes that cast small shadows on his cheekbones when you looked at him from the right angle. “No. No, I’m not sure it’s possible.” Rika said, smiling her winning smile. “Come; shall we find a tree to climb?” She laughed and jumped down from the wagon, smiling and laughing merrily. James shook his head slowly, smiling. He followed, holding out his arm. Rika took it, and they walked along together; Rika skipped beside him with a brand new cheer, stopping to smell flowers and talk to everyone. James watched her, smiling; he had never met someone so happy and calm. Rika looked at James when she thought he wasn’t looking. She snapped her eyes to the flowers or clouds when he was, though. She felt sky high, like nothing could bring her down. She skipped around, her skirts flying and twirling gracefully in the wind. In her tent, Theresa watched them through closed eyes. She could see them in her minds eye; she would have to keep a close eye on the new Gypsy. A very close eye indeed. © 2012 ArianaAuthor's Note
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