Chapter One: The Whisperer's Lament

Takes place approximately 480 years after the prologue and is narrated by the main character during present times.

    I watch in silence as the mist swirls in, dread coiling around my heart.  My lungs feel leaden with the weight of my unease.  With a sigh, I step back from the railing.  “Where is he?”  Four days, I have spent on this balcony, waiting, just waiting.  I can do nothing else, for I am helpless in this.  I warned him not to go to the shore, not to venture near the ships.  Their search would not have led them here.  It is well known that the castle in the marsh was abandoned long ago.  None dare pass too near to this wretched place.  We were safe and we were together.  Yet he could not simply let things be; the foolish man felt he had to avenge my honor.  “What good is my honor,” I cannot help but wonder aloud, “when my beloved is gone from my side?”  
    Footsteps silenced by my silk slippers, I return to my bedchamber and begin pacing.  Vaguely, I notice the sinister chill in the room.  One of the other inhabitants here is watching me, I know, but cannot bring myself to care.  “Let them see,” I think dejectedly, “for they are no less guilty of sorrow than I.”  A single tear glides down my pale cheek, glistening as the moonlight teases it gently.  A wail reverberates through the vast stone halls.  Briefly, I wonder what story is behind the phantom lady’s grief.  I can feel the intensity of her woe keenly; I imagine it is much like the sensation of being pierced by a dagger again and again.  In my wretched state of despair, I believe that she and I are kindred spirits, doomed to forever wallow in our anguish.  Trembling, I sink into a sitting position on the frigid stone floor and reflect yet again on the happenings of the past fortnight.    

    I remember that the night was clear and balmy.  Though not long ago, an eternity seems to have passed since then.  I was alone; it was foolish, I knew, but I could not stand the lack of privacy I had been subjected to of late.  Since my abilities were discovered, I was seldom permitted to be without a full set of guards.  When the opportunity arose to slip away unnoticed, I could not resist the temptation.  We had been traveling and were staying at a small inn on the edge of town.  Only a few guards had accompanied me, so as not to attract undue attention.  There were not enough men to watch all the halls; it was incredibly easy for me to evade their notice.  For propriety’s sake, my betrothed had decided to stay in a different inn across town, so that my chastity could not be called into question.  That evening, my guards had not allowed me to bid him goodnight ere we parted.  My intentions were innocent enough; I wanted only to see him once more before I went to sleep.  Before long, I was meandering down deserted alleyways toward the heart of town.  
    A drunken oaf was emerging from a closing tavern as I passed.  Thinking myself unobserved, I let my Glamour slip, just for an instant, so I could see the moonlight on my own skin.  The man happened to glance my way at exactly that moment.  Our eyes met, mine alight with power, his dulled by alcohol.  I was so stunned by the unlikelihood of my misfortune, that before I could react, he had me pressed against the outer wall of the tavern by the throat.  I slammed my Glamour back in place, but it was futile; I already had his attention and he knew what I was.  He was strong.  Struggling did no good and I was too panicked to keep a grip on my power, newly manifested as it was.  Suddenly, he struck me, again and again.  My consciousness drifted away, lost to the pain.
    When I returned to myself, I was in a man’s arms.  Recalling the situation, my confusion grew.  He cradled me in his arms gently, as if I were a child.  As my vision cleared, I found myself gazing into the gray, gentle eyes of my beloved.  Worry lines creased his forehead and something dark smudged his right cheek.  Glancing around, I began to understand what had transpired.  Daniel leaned against the outer wall of the tavern with me in his lap, my head on his shoulder.  My attacker’s corpse lay mere feet from us, his blood seeping into the ground.  Horrified, I buried my face in Daniel’s chest.  He spoke, “I am sorry, darling love.  I did not mean for it to end in that way.  When I intervened, he pulled a dagger from his cloak.  We fought, struggling for control of the weapon.  Within moments, I was on the ground with him atop me, the dagger lodged in his chest.  Everything happened so quickly.”  The remorse he felt was evident.
    “You are not responsible for his demise.  You must not blame yourself.  Now please, take me away from here.  I cannot bear it any longer.”  My voice shook violently; I was surprised he comprehended my words well enough to oblige me.  Taking care to be as gentle as possible, Daniel stood and carried me away into the night.  Lulled by the rhythm of his steps, I was soon asleep in his arms.
    I awoke suddenly, my heart pounding heavily within my chest.  In my drowsy state, the cause of my fear eluded me.  Sitting up, I realized I was in a sumptuous bed with sheets of the finest silk.  From an adjoining room, I heard voices, too muffled to discern the topic, but clearly angry.  Overcome by curiosity, I shifted until my feet dangled above the floor, stood, and crossed the room to stand before the hearth.  From there, I could hear every word plainly.  Daniel spoke, “Even had it been another girl, a stranger, I would have acted no differently.  Do you seek to convince me that you would have walked on while knowing a young woman was being raped?  No, you will not persuade me to believe that you would have done nothing, even had you known, as I had not, the identity of the man.”
    Another man replied, “Perhaps not, but dear Lord, Daniel, you killed a prince!”
    “As I have said again and again, I did not know who he was until your man returned with the tidings of his death.  In any case, you are overlooking the circumstances.  What would you have done differently, Ian?  I took his blade from him and he fell on it.  You know me, brother.  I would have avoided taking a life if it had been possible not to.  Once lost, a life is something that cannot be restored.”
    Ian sighed heavily, “I know, brother.  Who is the lady, anyway?”
    “She is Lady Jezalynn, my betrothed.”
    “The Whisperer?”  His voice was hushed; astonishment and awe seemed to compete for dominance.
    I turned away, unwilling to listen to this branch of the conversation, and strode across the room to the window.  Listening to the storm helped to soothe my irritation.  As a fork of blue lightning lit up the sky, I opened my Sight and dropped my Glamour.  Instantly, the night sky came to life, revealing the will-o’-the-wisps.  The bright orbs arced through the sky, tiny entities awaiting a task.  They were unattached and open to instruction, something only a Whisperer could give.  Reaching out, I called several sparks to me, each a pale blue.  I Whispered, coaxing them to join together and manifest as water.  Gently, I manipulated the water into a disk shape and positioned it just inches from my face.  
    Looking at my reflection, I released the breath I had been holding.  I so rarely could see myself when I looked in a mirror, yet even then, without my Glamour, I hardly recognized myself.  When the power reveals itself, the Whisperer’s appearance is altered to reflect the nature of his or her abilities.   My features remained largely unchanged, but my coloring seemed utterly foreign.  My hair, once brunette, had changed to an iridescent black.  My eyes, dark blue before, were now nearly black and had also taken on opalescent qualities.  My faint freckles had vanished, leaving my moonlight-pale skin unmarked.  All these things distinguished me as a Whisperer.  How could I ever become acclimated to my new appearance, if I could never let it show?  Yet without my Glamour, I would always be vulnerable.  There would always be people seeking to use my power, and so long as they could see my true nature at a glance, I would be in danger.
    The sound of an opening door broke through my thoughts and my control slipped, causing the water to fall and soak the windowsill in front of me.  I moved away from the window and sat on the foot of the bed.  Daniel entered, followed by another man, presumably Ian; I could see the family resemblance.  Catching sight of me, the brothers stopped short and stared at me.  My questioning glance prompted Daniel to speak, “I am so used to seeing you with your Glamour; the absence of it startled me.  I apologize for staring.  Jeza, I would like you to meet my elder brother, Lord Ian of Brockridge.  Ian, this is Lady Jezalynn of Alquette.”
    Before I could react, Ian had come forward, knelt, and kissed my hand.  “Lady Jezalynn, it is indeed a great honor to meet you, the magnitude of which I cannot adequately express.”
    Withdrawing my hand as graciously as possible, I spoke, “Lord Ian, I fear I must protest; I have done nothing worthy of such praise.  You flatter me overmuch.  Nevertheless, I am most pleased to meet you, as well.”
    Ian opened his mouth to reply, but before he could speak, Daniel placed a hand on his shoulder and said, “Jeza, I loathe having to call your ordeal to mind, but cannot shelter you from the truth any longer.  Shortly after we arrived, one of Ian’s men returned from town.  He brought with him tidings of Prince Arlen’s death.  After hearing the details, I am convinced that it was he who attacked you, he who fought with me, and he who fell on his dagger.”  He lifted a shoulder in a melancholy shrug.  “I killed a prince.  If the king learns that he died in a fight with me, it will not matter what atrocity his son had been committing, nor will it matter that his death was an accident.  He will only care that his son is dead by my hand and, in his mind, because of you.  We are not safe anywhere in Illiona.”
    “I must confess, I know.  I will not deceive you; I was listening from the hearth earlier.  You know my curiosity.  When I woke to the sound of voices and found that I could warm myself by the fire and hear the conversation simultaneously, I could not hold against the temptation.”  
    Ian’s tone was accusatory when he spoke, “You admit to eavesdropping, yet make no apology for it.”
    “I will not apologize for that which I am not sorry.  To do so would make me a liar.  Besides, why should I be remorseful?  I heard nothing more than I was just told.  I would have moved out of hearing, if the topic had not concerned me.”
    Daniel’s laugh rang out in the quiet room.  “I would expect nothing else.  I would even be willing to wager I know precisely when you turned away.”
    I smiled warmly.  “I am sure you do, at that.  Are we to depart, then, before sunrise?”
    Daniel readily agreed and we each retired to our separate beds.  A meager two hours later, we readied ourselves while Ian procured all manner of provisions we might need.  Before long, Daniel and I were riding away from Brockridge, having said a hasty, yet heartfelt goodbye to Ian.  

    I realize, now, that I have been pondering all this aloud, and do, in fact, have an audience.  Standing just inside my doorway is the phantom lady.  She is watching me, her form transparent, her expression indistinct.  She speaks, her voice soft as a sigh, musical as pattering rain, “Will you tell more?”
    For several moments, I find myself struck dumb by surprise.  I have seen the apparition before, but this is the first she has spoken.  “Why now?  Why ignore me before, only to act so fascinated by me now?  Is it truly because of the tale I have to tell, or is there more to it?”  All at once, my thoughts change direction.  “Hm, I wonder, if I...”  
    Prompted by the seemingly outlandish thought, I open my Sight and, sure enough, I am able to see my companion clearly.  Her long tresses, I see, were silvery blonde in life, her eyes blue as the sky, and her skin as pale as mine.  When I am confident of my composure, I speak, “Now that I can see you better, may I ask your name?  I am sure by now you know mine.”
    “I was called Carina in life.  You, of course, are Jeza; I believe I know something of your nature that you do not.  In return for telling me the rest of your tale, I will communicate to you, my knowledge.”
    “So there is something more to it...”  Baffled, yet intrigued, I agree to her terms and continue.
    
    We rode for days, stopping only for rest.  We ate while astride our horses and allowed them to graze when our pace slowed.  When we came to a stream, we paused to let them drink and cool off.  We spoke little, comfortable as we were in our silent bond.  On the fifth morning, we came to a city, a city bustling with soldiers.  Unobserved, we slipped into an inn owned by Daniel’s kinfolk.
    We were greeted promptly by a young woman sitting behind the bar.  Daniel stepped forward out of the shadows.  The woman gasped.  “Come, come into the sitting room.  We can talk privately there.”  She stood and led us to an inner room.  We waited as she lit each candelabrum in the opulent room.  Flickering candlelight glinted off the gilded surfaces and illuminated the angular forms of cushioned armchairs arranged in an arc before the fireplace.  We each sat, drawing our chairs closer together as we did so.  Amalie began, her tone crisp.  “I believe introductions are in order, though I suspect neither of you should be here.  My name is Amalie.  Daniel is my cousin.”
    Before I could reply, Daniel said, “This is Lady Jezalynn.  She and I are to be wed in the spring.”
    Teasingly, I poked him in the shoulder and told him, “One day you will learn that I can speak for myself, and when you do, I shall laugh at your bewilderment.”  He returned my gaze sheepishly, his eyes apologetic.  Amalie smiled, but did not seem to be in the mood to laugh.  Returning my full attention to her, I went on to say, “It is wonderful to meet you, Amalie.  All pleasantries aside, though, why should we not be here?”
    “Likewise, I am sure.  I do so wish we could have met under more pleasant circumstances.  I must warn you.  You are in grave danger.  King Madoc has his men searching even the smallest village and scouring the countryside for you two.  If they capture you, there will be no trial.  Daniel will be executed for the murder of Prince Arlen, and you, Lady Jezalynn, will be enslaved as recompense for his death.”
    For several moments, Daniel and I were rendered speechless by Amalie’s pronouncement.  It was I who recovered first.  “I do not understand how his death could have been linked to us without the truth being known, yet if the truth were known, how could this be so?”
    “The truth is very widely known, or at least part of it is.  There was a witness, you see, to what had transpired that night.  A man was watching from a second story window across the street.  He was elderly and crippled.  He could not walk and his nurse had already left for the night.  After the prince was discovered, soldiers came and questioned him.  They brought him to the palace to tell the king all he knew.  In his grief, the king is not behaving rationally.  He had the witness beheaded for treason, proclaiming that he, too, had a hand in Prince Arlen’s death since he saw the struggle but merely watched as the prince was killed.  In his mind, the prince’s actions were just, and the accident was the coldest form of murder.”
    Daniel spoke, “I suspected the king would react violently, but I never imagined he would kill an innocent man who could not walk.”
    “That is not the worst of it.  He has made a formal declaration that Lady Jezalynn is no longer pure and therefore unfit to be wed to any man.”  
    Daniel swore explosively, for a moment forgetting himself.  Once he regained his composure, he winced, begging the forgiveness of the ladies, took a deep breath, and said, “Lady Jezalynn is still as pure as any other virgin.  Prince Arlen was fumbling with the button of his trousers when I came along.  He could not have deflowered her without first removing his trousers.  I do not know why King Madoc would spread this falsehood, particularly since, by law, I cannot be punished for the prince’s death if he is deemed a rapist.  As she was not conscious, if Jeza is no longer a virgin, she has been raped.  The penalty for rape is death by drowning in this kingdom.”
    Fury colored Amalie’s cheeks and her tone was mocking.  “Oh, but it wasn’t rape.  Prince Arlen was entitled by birth to be with any woman he wished, no matter her inclination.  You murdered Prince Arlen while he was exercising a sovereign right and must die for your heinous crime.”
    “But surely no one agrees with him.”  I did not know why I was protesting; I knew very well it did not matter.
    Daniel’s voice was weary and strained. “No one has to.”
    Having learned everything we could from Amalie, we devised a plan to leave the kingdom as quickly as possible.  While Daniel and I pored over a map of Madoc’s and surrounding kingdoms, we discussed where to take refuge and how best to get there, and Amalie replenished our supplies.

    I look to the doorway, but Carina is not there.  I glance around and find that she is now sitting cross-legged on my bed.   “You decided to come to Rénnad, to Lightower Castle, knowing that none among the living would find you here.  And you were right, but that is not from whence your woe springs,” she surmised.
    “No, you are correct, that misfortune came later.  You see, our desperate ride was largely uneventful.”

    On the ninth day, we arrived in the port city of Vikirn.  We hurried through the streets leading our horses, ducking out of sight whenever a soldier drew near.  By the time we reached the docks, it was midday.  Wasting no time, we approached the wharf master and proposed a trade, our horses for a small sail boat.  As soon as we were able, we set off across the channel.  Freedom awaited us on the other shore.  Once across, the soldiers could not, lawfully, bear us away without the consent of the ruling monarchs.  Had we stayed, it would have only been a matter of time before we were captured.
    We made landfall just after dusk, choosing to spend the night on the beach.  I was delighted by our good fortune; we had not been pursued and were within sight of our haven.  There, we would seek refuge until the soldiers returned to Madoc’s kingdom.  We would then travel inland, and live together peacefully into our old age, until, by death, we were parted.  The next morning, everything changed.
I awoke just before dawn.  Oddly anxious, I scanned the darkness over the water.  In the distance, I saw a myriad of lights approaching our shore.  I spoke, “Daniel? Darling, you must wake.  There are ships coming.  We may not be safe here.”  
    Daniel groaned as he rolled over and stood.  “Are we never to have any peace?”  He yawned.  “It could just be a merchant fleet, but it is better to be overly cautious than careless.  Come, we must unload the provisions.  While I hide our boat, you can begin carrying our supplies to the castle.  I will follow with the rest when I am able.”
    We worked quickly.  Before long, I was trekking through the marsh with as many bundles of food as I could carry.  My pace was slow; there was no clear path through the marsh and I was heavily burdened.  Once, I stumbled and fell heavily to my knees.  It had not hurt much, but I soon realized I was bleeding.  My first, unobstructed view of the castle made me forget my mishap and veritably took my breath away.  It was small, as castles go, and ivy climbed to the top of even the tallest spire.  I mounted the stairs, my steps faltering every now and then on the steep surface.  Praying the massive oak doors were not locked, I shifted my burdens to one arm, lifted the latch with my free hand, and pushed experimentally with my foot on the bottom of the door.  A loud creaking noise accosted my ears as the door swung open.  I entered, placing our supplies just inside the door, and began to explore.  
    Wandering the maze-like halls, I pondered all that I had heard about this place.  Many described it as haunted.  Some even called it cursed.  No one would say why they feared this place, but none dared pass too near to Lightower Castle.  Still, no matter what horrors awaited us in this labyrinth, it would be well worth it, if only we could be together.
    The silenced seemed almost to have a tangible presence.  The air was dead and still.  I wondered how long this place had gone undisturbed.  Abruptly, the quiet was shattered by a keening wail rising from somewhere on the floor below me.  Strangely, it had not startled me; the forlorn sound seemed to belong to this place, as if the castle would not be whole without it.
By the time the sun had risen over the horizon, I was standing on the balcony facing the channel, just off the room I would choose for my bedchamber.  Daniel, who had just found me there, placed his hand on my shoulder and I turned.  His slate-gray eyes danced with affection, but I could see that they were troubled and, perhaps, trying to hide a truth from me.  My unease grew when he spoke, “There are seven ships approaching, each flying the king’s banner.  They still pursue us, even now.”  There was something in his voice that frightened me.  “They carry news of your supposed disgrace.  I cannot leave such a thing unpunished, uncontested.”
    “Daniel, please, do not go to the shore, to the ships.  Stay with me here, for without you, my honor means little to me.  My love, I implore you, stay.”
    “How can I marry a woman I will not defend?  If I stay, I will prove myself unworthy of your love.  I am deeply sorry, but I cannot do as you ask.  I give you my word, swear upon my love for you, that I will return to you by dawn on the fifth day.  Farewell, my heart, and be at peace while I am away.”
    He turned and walked away without a single glance back, showing no sign of hesitation, no sign of regret.  My heart froze.  My lungs seized up.  I could not take a breath, and so could not ease the pressure building within my chest, the wail that would not be heard.
    
    “I fear my heart perished that morning, leaving a void to be filled by misery and despair.  He swore on our love that he would return by the morning of the fifth day.”  With difficulty, I stand and stagger onto the balcony.  My eyes search the distance for movement, any movement.  There is nothing, only the breeze barely stirring the leaves.  I call to Carina, “You see?  This is the morning he promised to come back to me.  He promised.  He promised.  On our love.  Does it matter where he is?  He is not here.  He is not here.”  I fall to my knees, sobbing now, my grief and rage taking hold of me.
     Carina’s voice grounds me.  “Do you remember our agreement?  In return for telling me your story, I am to tell you what I know of you.  Perhaps it can bring you some measure of comfort.  Do you still wish to hear?”
    “Tell me.  Please.”
    “You are the new Lumina.  This I know, because I was Lumina before you.  As Lumina, you have the talents you need to find the truth and set things right, if such a thing is attainable.  You are the beacon that lights the way through this era of darkness.  You shall be an inspiration of hope for the people.”
    “I do not understand.  What is a Lumina?  What hope do I have?”
    “You will, in time.  As for hope, that is something only you can determine.  Perhaps one day you will find that there is no need to lament your fortune.”
    “Will you help me understand?”  I have no doubt that she is able.
    “Why, Jeza.  Would you have me tell my tale?”
    “I would, if you are willing.”
    “I can tell you, or I can show you.  I leave the choice to you.  Be cautious in you decision, though.  For me to show you I must take you into my memories.  You will  experience everything just as I did, even my death.”
    “Show me.  I need to know.”        
    Everything around me fades, until there is only Carina’s voice.  “So be it.”   

Author's Note

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