Meagan now has to contend with Queen Arya before she can search for either Bella or Jenni, and contending with Arya means having to face the warriors she accidentally replaced...


Arya’s Palace

Arya set a brisk pace, just as fast- if not faster- than Carmen. Unlike the sheriff, however, the queen was not a very good traveling companion. Her demeanor seemed cold, arrogant, and snide. She didn't talk at all, just to tell them in her level, emotionless voice to hurry up. Meagan wished Arya would allow them more time to sight-see. Beautiful cathedrals, exquisite government buildings, and sprawling gardens fenced by walls of glistening white marble caught her eye and surrounded her. It was as if the elves poured themselves into landscaping and sculpture. Statues of deceased heroes were everywhere as well, grim and solemn faces and blank eyes staring at Meagan's alive and scared ones.
They had to have reached the palace in fifteen minutes or less. The chateau seemed silver, but it reflected the light in a strange way that Meagan couldn't help but feel bothered about. Getting closer, she saw the whole thing was built of glazed glass. Meagan shook her head. A few cracks and the whole thing would come crashing down.
Images of the night Meagan was trying to forget flashed in her mind. No, not now. You have to stay focused. Stop being depressed and start being focused.
Gates of black iron barred the way to the glass palace. The black seemed deeper and more solid than any other she'd ever seen anywhere, not just on iron, and Meagan reasoned it was because it was surrounded by such dazzling, bright stone.
“Who's there?” barked a guard with a long, scary-looking pike. His black uniform and helmet made him stand out in the sea of white, an imposing shadow.
“It's me, you fool!” barked Arya. “Open the gate!”
The guard flinched. “A thousand apologies, Your Highness,” he mumbled, and disappeared. A second later the gates opened soundlessly and smoothly, freshly oiled.
Arya strode down the courtyard, so quickly Meagan barely had time to take in her surroundings. Arya pushed open a door, leading them into the castle proper, hustling them down several hallways so that Meagan barely had any time to register the lush carpet and tapestries, then flung open a door. Rows upon rows of dresses lined the walls. “Get into something suitable,” Arya demanded. “Now, gentlemen, your room is over here…” She turned and strode away, the boys following. Noah shrugged, grinned, and then ran after her.
Solaris sighed and shut the door once she and Meagan were both in the room.
“Umm...” Meagan wanted to say something to make Solaris like her (or at least stop hating her, because it was obvious the wind mage despised her), but instead she said, “Do you reckon that the glass is see-through?”
“I don't think so,” Solaris replied absentmindedly. “It's glazed. I can barely see what's on the other side.”
“Yeah, but can the other side see us?” persisted Meagan.
Solaris thought for a moment, slowly blowing air out in a long sigh, then shook her head. “One-way glass.”
“Oh.” Meagan turned away, not sure how Solaris knew that, and not really caring. She was burning red and felt thick in the head. Meagan decided to try again. “A glass palace is kind of dangerous. One crack could threaten the whole thing.”
“Like the Meeting Hall,” Solaris added bluntly.
Meagan nodded. “Like the Meeting Hall,” she agreed somberly. She wasn't sure why, but she continued, “Ayana thinks it was a murder.”
Solaris looked away from the dresses and stared at Meagan. “That's a bold claim.”
“Well, why not? It you look at the string of events...”
Solaris frowned. “If there was a murder- assuming your friend here isn't a conspiracy theorist- then she and Linius are in danger.
“I hope you find Bella soon,” Solaris continued. “I don't think Arya will be much help.” She smiled. “But now... now we're going to a feast. What dress are you going to wear?”
Meagan shrugged. “I'll take a look.” She didn't really want to turn her back on Solaris, but she forced herself to. Why was the wind mage suddenly acting so nice? Wasn't it clear from earlier that she hated Meagan?
Solaris pushed dress after dress down the rack, searching. Occasionally she'd comment on the neckline, hem, or bodice of this dress or other, sometimes muttering about fabric or color. After a while, she chose a blue, billowing dress and retreated to a corner to change. Meagan's eyes still swept over the garments, rejecting each one. She was still looking when Solaris came up behind her. “No luck?”
“Yep.”
“Try white,” Solaris suggested. She experimentally twirled, the skirt spinning around her. “Hmmm... I keep stepping on the hems when I try to dance, but then again, I'm not seven feet tall. Did you find one?”
“There aren't any white ones.”
“Strange,” Solaris replied. “Ah, here's one. It was way in the back.” She pulled it out.
“Almost as if it was hidden,” Meagan observed. “I like it.”
“Are you sure? It looks kind of old-fashioned,” Solaris pointed out. “All those folds and that style of collar...”
“I like it. Now turn around so I can change.” Meagan quickly slipped on the dress and tapped Solaris lightly on the shoulder when she finished.
Solaris smiled. “Amazing. You know, you remind me of something, but I can't put my finger on what.”
“Thank you. You look beautiful.”
Solaris nodded to thank her, and looked out the window. “I wonder when they're coming to get us.”
“I don't know.”
Solaris sighed. “I had a dress like this, a long time ago.”
Meagan stared at her quizzically. Solaris continued, “I lived in Magos, in the south. Lots of wind mages were there too. I would sit in my dress on the porch steps for hours, just singing or dinking around. I was about five or six when my family left. We didn't take anything with us, and I didn't want to go. Even now, I don't understand why my parents decided to move to Regnum. Pretty much everyone there are wizards or mortals, not mages. But it's all right.”
There was a pause, then Meagan said, “Did you ever go back?”
Slowly, Solaris shook her head. “No. but I wish I could, but even I went back… they’re not my porch steps anymore, you know?”

“What are you doing? The party's about to begin.”
Requiem looked up from the scroll she was writing in, startled. She hadn't expected anyone to come into her house and to find her sprawled on her bed. She hadn’t lived there long, only a couple of months since she had run away from the orphanage (they had come to drag her back too, but Arya had chased them off, claiming she needed her minstrel), but she was possessive of her home. In fact, she was slightly irritated that Vesper had come into her room. Elven culture didn't really allow for a young man in an unmarried woman's room.
“Hi, Vesper,” she said, letting her tone tell him exactly what she thought of his intrusion. She shoved the scroll behind her. If there was anything she didn't want him to see, it was her unfinished songs. “I'm not going to the party,” she added, to answer his question.
“Why not?”
“Why aren't you at the party?” she shot back. She wasn't about to tell him everything when he had entered her room uninvited. The nerve of some people.
“I was looking for you.”
Requiem felt warmth flood her cheeks and realized she was blushing. Crap. Moonlight poured through the window, shining on both of them, making Vesper's black hair almost glow. Requiem stared at him, transfixed. Since when was he so... cute?
Vesper smiled. “Come on. I've gotta show you something.”
“Um...where to?”
He winked. “Surprise.”

Arya knocked on the door impatiently. “Go get it,” ordered Solaris while trying to fix her hair. It sounded more like, “Go geff if,” since she had pins in her mouth, but Meagan understood the message.
Meagan complied and opened the door, smiling. “Hello.”
Arya said nothing. She was wearing a long dress with a black skirt and green bodice. She was frowning, but when she saw Meagan's dress, the look on her face turned from one of minor annoyance, which was semi-permanently plastered there, to one of distraught surprise. “You... found my old dress,” she said, “and it fits you...”
She lifted Meagan's chin with her long, slender fingers, her eyes boring into Meagan's. Meagan involuntarily shivered. Like Annalise's, Arya's purple stare was pervading, and like Carmen's green one, it was subduing and powerful. An eternity seemed to pass before she let go. “Hmm,” Arya mused. “Well, come on. Party's started.”
Arya turned and beckoned. Meagan and Solaris trailed behind, the past few seconds whirling through her mind. What had Arya been looking for in Meagan's gaze? The thought made her shiver once more. Unconsciously, her hand moved and touched the necklace around her neck. Meagan again felt a strong urge to rip it off and throw open the door closed within her.
Forcing her hand down, Meagan heard soft music waft towards her. She guessed they were nearing the dining hall.
Arya stepped in front of two large, oak doors. “Go on in,” she said. “A servant will show you where to sit. I'll join you later- I have to check on something first.” With that, the elven queen gracefully pivoted and swept past them, her steps echoing in the hall and blending into the woodland music.
“Hmmm,” mused Solaris, but didn't say anything else.
Meagan stood still for a moment, then swallowed nervously and put her hand on the door. She paused again, suddenly feeling incredibly awkward. “Open it,” Solaris commanded impatiently, and Meagan pushed it.
The doors swung open with a creak, the music seeming to get tremendously louder. Long rows of tables were arranged into one monolithic column. To the left, a band was playing. Remembering that Requiem was a musician, Meagan looked for her, but didn't see her anywhere.
“Ahem.” Meagan turned to see a tall elf, about eight feet tall. He wore a red apron and white garments, and was holding two plates. “This way, honored guests.” He led them to the head of the table, where- presumably- Arya was to sit, and motioned for Meagan to take the right and Solaris the left. Then he handed them the plates and left.
Solaris said nothing, but Meagan could guess she expected that she or one of her companions would be sitting at the right.
Another servant led Noah next to Meagan. The midget was wearing a black tux with obvious modification. Poor Noah. It must have been hard to find something to wear.
By Solaris sat Svein and Kair, deep in conversation.
“How was it?” Meagan asked. She immediately felt stupid for asking. How was what?
“Terrible,” replied Noah. “We couldn't find ONE my size, so Arya had someone change it up. You can see how well that went.”
Meagan nodded, wondering if she should tell him about the dress, and, more importantly, Arya's reaction to the dress.
“We didn't get a chance to ask Lynn where to go,” Noah continued just was Meagan was ready to speak. “Arya interrupted. I guess we'll have to swing by again.”
“I don't want to,” Meagan vehemently said. In her mind, she was hearing Lynn's impassive voice over and over again. I won't tell you, I won't tell you, I won't tell you...

Arya groaned and sat up. She was in her bed, in her chambers. How did I get here? It took her a second to remember. She had been walking down the corridor, intent on getting her duties taken care of before the feast, when the pain set in, deep and jabbing at her skull, taking root and spreading over her entire body. The seizures... Then she had the dream of being carried away and carefully laid down on top of her amazingly soft comforter.
Did I pass out this time? If I did... then it's getting worse. She got up, gingerly, afraid it'd come again, but when it didn't, strode to the window. Arya flung it open and felt the cold breeze caress her face, breathing in the deep woodland air. She smiled, then cried out as the pain returned, and an image flashed across her mind.

She was lying broken, maybe dead, some place very familiar that she couldn't quite place. It was obvious that someone had attacked her or murdered her, and soft rain drizzled down. Someone else was nearby, someone who looked as if it had once been intimate with her, and was crying, hands red and held up to the rain, as if the weeping sky would wash away the cursed stains. Then there was fire, and maniacal laughter that sounded like Arya’s but twisted.
Then darkness.

Just as quickly as it came, the pain disappeared once more, snatching the vision with it, leaving behind only ghosts of what had occurred. Arya shook, her bottom lip trembling. Was she... dead? Stop it. You are not going to die.
“I can't stay here,” she whispered, climbing out the window carefully. She'd meant to leave for a while, but she'd kept putting it off. Today, it seemed that her time was up. “I want to go home,” she said to herself as she jumped and landed softly on a terrace. “I want to go home.”
But where is home?

“Where's Arya?” asked Meagan twenty minutes into the party.
Svein shrugged and stuffed a forkful of roast pork into his mouth. Solaris sighed and answered, “Well, the same thing happened yesterday. We were waiting outside the city for Arya to let us into Tykehaven for hours, with no word of where she was, and then all of a sudden we were rushed in with apologies. 'Queen Arya wasn't feeling well,' they said.”
“Seizures,” whispered Kair. “I overheard some elves talking. Arya just had a seizure ten minutes ago. They expect that she'll be back in twenty minutes.”
“Aw, I feel sorry for her,” Noah said. “Poor Arya.”

“Will you please tell me where we're going?” Requiem fumed.
“We're there,” Vesper coolly replied.
“Lynn's house?”
“Yes.”
Requiem raised an eyebrow, irritated. “Why?”
“Go in and see.”
“Fine. Maybe I will.” Requiem was annoyed that he'd given so little information, but she complied, pulling back the curtain, and gasped as Lynn was millimeters away from her face.
“Hello,” Lynn greeted. “How are you today?”
“What's going on here?” demanded Requiem, nearly shouting.
“Shh.” Lynn put her finger on Requiem's lips. “Not so loud.”
“What's this about?” demanded Requiem, softly.
“Your dreams, sweetheart. Have they been troubling lately?”
“How do you-”
“I'm not a fortune teller or a soothesayer,” Lynn interrupted, sighing. “I don't know why everyone thinks that. Some rumor got out of hand centuries ago, I suppose. I'm a dream seer. I see abnormal dreams, and yours, dear girl, are anything but normal.”
“You're babbling.”
“Pack your bags,” Lynn commanded. “Soon as the feast is over, you, Noah, and Meagan are getting out of here- just like you’ve always wanted.”
“But- but-” Requiem was nearly speechless. What on earth was Lynn going on about? She was going to ask more questions, but all she said was, “Where to?”
“Logan the Carpenter and his assistant Sarah Anderson have a home in the woods. Do you know where?”
Requiem shook her head. Lynn scowled. “Vesper! Get me a map of Dryadales!” He scuttled off to do her bidding while Requiem stood dumbfounded and feeling rather awkward. “Now,” Lynn continued, “little lark, you’re about to fly.”
“Am I helping the search for Bella?”
“Yes, little lark. What else would you do? My grocery shopping? Actually, if you'd do anyone's, it'd be Arya's, but honestly. Do you think that's what I called for you to do?”
Requiem shook her head no. Though it really got under her skin how flippantly Lynn used her nickname, she was afraid to ask her to stop. Requiem was afraid of Lynn, and always had been.
“The truth is,” Lynn sighed, “I can't sense Bella's dreams. Someone's enchanted them, or she simply hasn't slept for the past few weeks, which I sincerely doubt. I can tell that Logan and Sarah may know something, though.”
Requiem raised an eyebrow. Finally, she said, “Are you all right?”
“What, do you think that I'm senile? Old? That I lost my marbles?”
“To be honest,” Requiem replied truthfully, “yes.”
Lynn laughed. “I love the honest ones. Well, maybe I do have addled wits, but you know what? I'm the only one you can come to for help.”

She had given up banging on the door long ago. Now she sat cross-legged, twirling one of her red locks around her finger. The cut on her cheek had healed, leaving a white, silvery, thin scar in its place. Other than that, she was beautiful. She had long eyelashes, gorgeous purple eyes, refined cheekbones, and a pleasing figure- the envy of half of Aeternam, and she knew it. After all, it wasn't everybody who caught the eye of the prince...
She hadn't expected it to open. Well, actually, it opened quite frequently, but never too long- just long enough for her to see the outside and crave it but not get there. Today was different, though. It remained open, and when she stepped forward, it didn't close. It had done that before, taunting her, opening wide and then slamming itself shut as she neared the outside.
She could tell it wanted to close, as it was shaking and straining, groaning. Something was forcing it open. She didn't ponder what but instead walked out, going from darkness to pure whiteness. The blank nihilism turned to green forest, and there she was, out at last. She didn't even know how long it had been. She would have laughed for joy, or maybe cried, because the relief as blanketed by a sorrow she couldn't place, but she was so weary that she collapsed to the ground and lay there, looking for all the world as if she was asleep.

After eating, the tables were cleared away for dancing. Meagan couldn't dance to save her life, so she busied herself socializing, trying to suppress the pangs of depression that occasionally still kept rising to the surface. Without being aware of it, twenty minutes, then thirty, then forty passed with no sign of the queen.
In fact, few noted the monarch's lack of attendance except for the High General, who sent a servant to check on her. The servant, a young elf of perhaps eight years, rushed up to the chambers, excited to actually be allowed to speak to the queen (and in her chambers, no less).
It took the eager lad about two seconds to realize Arya was no longer in the room. Noting the open window, he came to several conclusions, most of which he regarded as stupid and irrational. The word ‘kidnapped’ sprang to mind. It even makes sense, he thought. That fairy got abducted. Maybe the criminals weren't stopping with her, but how did they get past the Singing Birds?
So he sped off to tell the High General about Arya's abduction, showing the brashness of youth. While the boy whispered the news in the High General's ear, party-goers laughed and made merry, oblivious. Meagan was engrossed in a conversation about elven mushroom recipes. Noah retold a censored version of his partial mummification to a group of wide-eyed elven children. Kair skulked around looking bored, and Solaris and Svein waltzed together, both blushing immensely each time they made eye contact. Looking at the scene, the High General realized he had the potential of a widespread panic on his hands unless he handled things delicately. The elves were not trusting folk. The foreigners could easily be blamed for what had occurred, and if worst came to worst...
The last time an elven monarch had been kidnapped, it had been before the mass migration of the Valkyries out of the continent of Htam, when thousands were above the sky- not just a few left in Regnum. It had to have been at least 700 years ago, when the wasteland to the northwest had been the epitome of class and civilization. Back then, the missing sovereign had showed up within a week, and the kidnapper brought to justice swiftly. The High General remembered how perfectly the Valkyries worked with his forces to help, wondered if things would go as smoothly this time, and doubted it.
Gently, he summoned four servants and asked them to bring the guests to the Council Room, then ordered another to fetch Lynn to the same place. He hoped that panic and stress were not detectable in his voice and on his face.
As soon as he was certain the foreigners plus Lynn were safe in the Council Room, he clapped his hands together loudly. “EXCUSE ME!” He yelled. The chatter ceased, and all eyes turned to him. He continued, “I HAVE AN ANNOUNCEMENT TO MAKE. PLEASE DO NOT PANIC AND FOLLOW INSTRUCTIONS PRECISELY... QUEEN ARYA HAS BEEN KIDNAPPED.”

Vesper barely made eye contact with Requiem. She couldn't for dear life remember why, but then she remembered their conversation earlier that day. Vesper was the one who wanted to leave, but here she was, stuck in the Council Room, knowing that in a few minutes her worst fear - or was it most-coveted desire?- would come alive just because Lynn felt like making it so. It didn't seem fair at all- not to Vesper, and certainly not to her.
Meagan nervously asked, “Do you know what happened?”
Noah shook his head. Solaris and Svein frowned. Kair was asleep and unashamed. Lynn pressed her lips together in displeasure at the act but said nothing. Vesper and Requiem continued ignoring each other and pretending not to be bothered by each other’s silence.
After what seemed like an eternity of things going on in complete silence, the door to the Council Room was opened, and the High General stepped through. He locked the door behind him, so as to keep out those whose company was undesired, and spoke. His voice was gravelly and worn, sounding tired. “Arya has gone missing.”
There was more silence, this time more shocked then wondering. Then everyone started talking at once, and Svein elbowed Kair roughly in the stomach to wake him up. Lynn's voice was louder than the rest, rising above the cacophony of exclamations and eventually shouting everyone else down. They looked to her, and she said, “The queen's dreams were troubling lately. Something haunts the poor woman, but I don't know what it is.”
“But you know everything!” Vesper exclaimed. Requiem rolled her eyes. He was practically Lynn’s acolyte.
“No,” Lynn replied, shaking her head. “I wish I did. I see only dreams. I know Bella is alive, but not where she is, because I can sense she HAS repressed dreams- not what those dreams actually are. I know Arya fled something because of her dreams, but that is all.”
“So you say she left with every intention to do so?” asked the High General, resolving to teach the servant boy about the fallacies of conjectures.
“She's been dreaming of leaving for a while,” Lynn answered. “She planned something that someone, somewhere, wants to stop. For all I know, she's had this orchestrated before she was Chosen queen by the elders.”
Red in the face, the High General bellowed, “Why didn't you say anything?”
“Because dreams are only that- dreams. Some are foolish and others... not so much. I thought she was hallucinating. Obviously, I was wrong.”
“Ahem,” Svein cleared his throat. “It is clear to me that how and why Arya left is not quite as important as what we do now. So, what do you think we should do?”
“Go get her,” muttered Requiem.
“Exactly,” the High General agreed, “but who will do it?”
“We could,” Noah offered. “We might as well look for Arya too.”
“I'll go too!” Vesper volunteered.
“No,” Lynn shot him down. “We've settled this. Requiem is going.”
“She is?” asked everyone except Lynn, Vesper, and Requiem. They all stared at her. She looked at the floor. She couldn't fight, and thanks to the Singing Birds, she didn't know any spells or charms- no elf did. The only thing she was really good at was music, and that didn't seem like much of a help.
“Well, we've got to get going,” Noah said.
“That's true,” acknowledged the High General. “There's no time to waste.”
Meagan sighed. This was one journey much longer than she'd anticipated. She realized her mother just might be worried about her. She'd have to send a pigeon first-thing as soon as she got out of the Council Room.
Solaris stood. “I don't know what madness has possessed you! You two are seriously contemplating sending three youths into danger? They could die!” She spoke with great ferocity, and although shame and jealously were behind her words, it was clear they weren't their only driving force. Could it have been... worry?
Kair stood as well, and he whispered softly, “They are but children, Lynn. They are inexperienced and rash, as we were at that age. Arguably, we still are- inexperienced and rash, I mean- but that's beside the point.” Svein nodded in agreement and stood up just because the other two members of his party were. Kair continued, “Think now. Who else could we send?”
“If you're implying to fetch your Chief Sorcerer or his pet sheriff,” growled Lynn, “then you're sorely mistaken. How in the world do you plan to get them here? Weeks will pass before they even get to the border.”
“True,” remarked the High General.
“They wouldn't come anyway,” Noah pointed out. “Linius is basically running the country now, and Carmen has investigations to deal with back in Regnum.”
“So it's settled,” Lynn stated, in a tone that made it clear further discussion was unwanted and would not be put up with.
“Nothing's 'settled!'” Solaris objected as Svein pulled her down. Everyone ignored her, but Meagan wondered why no one asked the teens their opinions. She had a feeling that it wouldn't have mattered anyway. She looked at Lynn and saw no emotion in her black, round eyes. What was the Dream Seer thinking?
“All right then,” sighed the Regent General. “Two hours. You leave in two hours.”
That was that. They were stuck.

Dragonlord Stephi : Great job . Yada yad yada . But I must congratulate you on your grammer . You haven't made a single mistake I saw , until now that is . When I first wrote I made a number of mistakes . And you just made 1 in your 9th chapter so far that I saw . I am kinda jealous . Any way nice job keep it up and stuff And I think it kind of sad that The two elves have to separate . Especially on such and sour note . Good dramatic writing ;D

Mr. Zed : Did you figure out that Requiem likes Vesper yet? Ha ha! I'm so mean.

What grammar mistake? I'd like to correct it.

Dragonlord Stephi : Yes I know they like each other . . And the mistake was somewhere where you used " It ' instead of " If " . Sorry but I can't give more details

Mr. Zed : Ah, my one weakness: the typo.

A user of this : They work cheaper? I laughed so hard! Thanks for that.

And I'm quite mean to Vesper and Requiem. Poor Elfies...