NaNoWriMo 2005: 9313 Words

Squinting in the bright afternoon sunlight, Pearl followed Lord Talwyr down the slope of the Temple's hill. Her heart leapt in time with her feet as she tried to keep up, struggling in her excitement not to dance along the spiral path that led to the gardens. She had seldom been down the hill to the gardens in all of her years at the Temple, and then she had been performing some tedious chore for a priest or priestess. If she had ever been discovered trying to go by herself, there would undoubtedly have been trouble with the Wise Ones. Now, though, she was with a great wizard, a servant of the Gods who had more power even than the high priest Maddeg. No one was going to stop her as long as Talwyr was at her side.

She had been amazed when Talwyr had come down to the courtyard where she was scrubbing the flagstones under the scornful eye of the priestess Tirra, apparently seeking only her.

"I would like Pearl to come with me, please," he had said.

Tirra had risen from her low bow to say, "Pardon, great lord?"

"The girl," Talwyr pointed to Pearl. "I would like her to come with me, please."

Pearl wasn't sure who looked more astounded, Tirra or herself. But she had followed Lord Talwyr through the gates of the Temple and down the spiral paths. When she'd finally ventured to ask where they were going, he'd simply said, "I want to show you something below the hill, child. On a lovely day such as this, girls who are nearly eight ought to be out of doors with the flowers and the birds and the sunshine."

The sacred gardens at the foot of the hill were in full bloom when Pearl and Talwyr reached them, and the orchard trees whispered in the wind. There were few trees and flowers on the hill itself, and Pearl thought she had never been in so beautiful a place. As they walked, Talwyr began to speak.

"Do you know the legend, Pearl, about these gardens?"

"No, sir," she replied.

"It is said that the Goddess Gwenna, mother of us all, planted the first seeds in these gardens long ago when the Temple was newly built by the first priests. Below the hill Gwenna walked, and as she trod on the sharp rocks her feet bled, and she wept. The priests and the priestesses came down the hill and asked her who she was and why she was crying. She told them that she was their Mother Goddess, and she was crying because now that they had their Temple they were shut away from all she and Gwyddon had created, and they would come to forget the Gods and worship only themselves. The first Wise Ones said this was not so, and Gwenna's tears ceased. She said that where her blood and tears had fallen a great number of trees and flowers would grow, and the people must never cut down the trees or pull up the flowers, but love them and nourish them and let them grow as a reflection of their faith in the Gods. Then, when they were grown, all people would be able to enjoy their fruits and blooms as gifts from herself and Gwyddon the God. Whenever the priests and priestesses walked in this garden they would remember their Gods and worship upon the earth and under the open sky, unconfined by the Temple walls. As the Wise Ones watched, Gwyddon came down from the sky weeping drops of rain. But then Gwenna told him all she had done for the people of the Kingdom, and the God smiled, and with his smile came the sun. So Gwyddon and Gwenna went to their home beyond the borders, and where the Goddess had walked, trees and flowers grew in a pattern like a maze. To this day, when we walk along these paths in prayer, it is as though the Goddess walks beside us."

When the gentle melody of Talwyr's voice ceased, all was silent, as though the entire garden, even the trees themselves, had been listening to the wizard's tale. He had a magical voice, one that wove visions before Pearl's eyes, and she had to blink and clear her head to remember where she was and what she was doing.

"Is all of that true?" she asked in an awed whisper.

"True?" Talwyr considered the question. "Truth is a difficult thing, Pearl. To a certain extent everyone has his or her own truth, and what is true for one might not be true for another. Then, some things are true whether one knows it or not. Truth is a very valuable thing, and something we must be very careful with. A truth put to a wrong use can be quite dangerous." His voice had become distant, but he paused and seemed to recall himself. "But none of this rambling answers your question, does it? As for this story, and as for me, well, yes, I believe that there is some truth in it."

Pearl liked the way that Talwyr talked to her not like and little girl and the lowest being in the Temple, but as a real person, even if she didn't always understand what he was saying. And since she didn't want him to stop talking to her like that, she wasn't going to tell him that she didn't always understand what he was saying. Instead, she asked, "Is Queen Lilien going to leave the Kingdom like the Gods did?"

"Something like that," Talwyr said. "Though not exactly, as the Gods never die."

"But Queen Lilien is really dying?"

"Oh, yes." the wizard replied.

"What will happen after she dies?"

"I don't know." The wizard looked thoughtful. "There are some who say Prince Emryn should be crowned, but then others who... disagree."

"Why doesn't Lady Celwyn go to her? She could help. Or you-- you could save her, couldn't you, Lord Talwyr?"

"I wish that I could. But I have seen her, and she is beyond my help. Understand, Pearl, that if Celwyn or I were to try to save Queen Lilien, we would be going against the will of the Gods and defying fate, which is never good. Everything must one day die."

"That's what Lady Celwyn told me."

Talwyr smiled. "And you ought to mind her, little one. She is an extraordinary person. Ah! Here we are."

Pearl had been so wrapped up in her conversation with the wise old wizard that she had not been paying full attention to her surroundings. She only knew that Talwyr seemed to know where he was going as he led the way through the maze of the gardens, but now they seemed to have left the gardens altogether. There was no longer a clear path between the trees, and only a few patches of wildflowers grew. Somewhere they had left the gardens and were now in a clearing on the outskirts of the forest that stretched all the way from the Temple to the Palace in the south. Pearl could not remember ever being this far from the Temple, and she felt simultaneously thrilled and frightened.

"What are we doing way out here?" she asked. "What did you want to show me?"

"You want to learn some magic, don't you?" Talwyr responded with twinkling eyes. Pearl could only nod, speechless with joy and disbelief. "I thought as much. Sit on the ground there, beneath that oak tree, and remain very quiet." She obeyed instantly. "Do not move suddenly or speak until... well, you shall see. I, meanwhile, will be over here." He indicated another tree a slight distance away in the small clearing and, when Pearl nodded her understanding, went to seat himself there.

"What's going to happen?" the little girl inquired in a tremulous voice.

"Wait," Talwyr told her. "Just wait."

And so she did. She waited a long time, what seemed to be forever. The sun moved further across the sky toward the west and the shadows of the trees lengthened before her. Pearl tried to remain very still and quiet as Talwyr had told her to do, but after a while she had to shift around or go crazy, at least to keep her crossed legs from falling asleep. She could hear the leaves rustle overhead, as well as the buzzing of insects and the myriad sounds of woodland life around her. Sometimes she thought that she could even hear the grass growing before her. Every now and then she sent a pleading look at Lord Talwyr to ask, Why are we here? What are we waiting for? How much longer? He always sent back a look that said, Patience, Pearl. Wait. Only a little longer. Wait.

Then, quite suddenly, she saw it. All at once it was there, at the very edge of the clearing. It had appeared as if by magic, or as if it had been there much of the time and she had only failed to see it. Yet it must have been magic, because this beautiful, shining white creature would have been impossible to miss. A unicorn.

Across the space, the creature's eyes met hers. Pearl didn't dare move; she didn't dare breathe. As eager as she had been before to stretch her legs and squirm about, she was now rigid and still, like one frozen by a spell. Looking into the unicorn's eyes, she felt as though it was exploring her deepest heart and soul, and that the slightest movement would scare it away. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, it stepped toward her.

The unicorn moved like the Wise Ones of the Temple, Pearl thought to herself-- graceful and noble and all in shining white. Yet she noticed now that the unicorn's coat was not the pure white of the Wise Ones' robes but tinged with a golden yellow sheen. Pearl thought she liked this better, for the unicorn did not seem so cold and forbidding as the Wise Ones did, looking as though they were carved of snow and ice. The unicorn looked like it could have been carved instead from the light of the moon and stars.

While these thoughts raced through Pearl's mind the beautiful creature came closer and closer, until its glow was all Pearl could see. It stopped before her, examining her closely as her hand, almost of its own accord, reached out gently to touch its lovely face. She knew that her hand was trembling, but the unicorn did not shy away, only bowed a little to fall better within her reach. The feel of its coat was so soft, it almost didn't register beneath her touch. The breath she had been holding came out all at once as a sigh of rapture and awe as she stroked its nose. It was like touching velvet, she guessed, of flower petals-- or both. The unicorn breathed softly into her hand.

Amazed at her own boldness, Pearl let her hand wander up to touch the unicorn's horn itself. It felt to her like the fine glass ornamental vessels in the Temple kitchens, only stronger than swords and warm and alive as the fingers which brushed it. Touching the horn a feeling of contentment and love she had never felt, except in her dreamlike memories of her mother, washed over her in a great, comforting wave. Then the unicorn tenderly pulled away from her touch and, quickly as it had come, was gone again into the mist of the wood. Pearl might have cried, except that the warm happiness she'd felt touching the unicorn's horn had stayed with her, and she could only smile into what she suddenly realized was the gathering twilight.

"Well, Pearl." Talwyr's voice by her side made her start; she had nearly forgotten that the old man was there. He gently put an arm on her shoulder. "Are you ready to go?"

She looked up at him with shining eyes. "How did you do that? How did you make it come? Tell me!"

"I didn't make it come, Pearl. You did that yourself."

"How? I didn't do anything!" she exclaimed in amazement.

"The unicorn will only come to a pure maiden; all you needed was to wait for it. Sometimes the greatest magic of all is simply to be still and wait for we know not what. Sometimes all it needs is to go forth into a place we may not know. That is my first lesson to you, Pearl."

"But that's not magic at all!"

"Ah, well, that all depends on how you define magic. I personally believe it to be one of the greatest forms of magic to be learned. Then, too, you were able to touch the unicorn's horn. Not every maiden may do that, only the most pure of heart. And, that, too is a kind of magic. I don't need to teach you that, it is already within you. That is my second lesson to you today. Inside you already have a great power, greater than a petty sorcerer's magic, and if you are willing to learn about it, then with patience you will see how great you may become."

Talwyr took her hand and moved to guide her from the clearing. "Lord Talwyr," she asked, hope surging within her so that she could not contain it, "do you mean I won't always have to stay at the Temple?"

He gave a kind smile. "No, Pearl. You will not have to stay at the Temple so long as Celwyn or I have strength and power to take you from it."

They walked the rest of the way through the woods and the gardens in silence, Pearl every now and then glancing behind and to the side in case she saw the unicorn shining in the dusk. The love and happiness the unicorn had given her clung to her still, joyfully mingling with the wild hope Lord Talwyr had placed within her heart. They emerged from the sacred gardens to find a procession of Wise Ones riding at a somber pace up the hill. They were the ones who had left yesterday, and Pearl could see Lord Maddeg far ahead in the lead. Her heart sinking slightly, she saw that every horse was draped in black.

"News from the Palace?" Lord Talwyr asked a passing priest, a young man in training who had not been at the Temple long. He had most likely gone to the Palace attending one of the higher priests. His face, when he turned to them, was pale and without expression. His eyes were wells of sadness and his voice, when he answered, had a hollow tone.

"Yes, Lord Talwyr. Queen Lilien..." his voice broke. "She is dead, Lord."


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