Chapter 22 – Queen Raven’s Accident

Third of Harvest 1083 – 39 years ago

The study felt lived in—worn chairs that creaked when anyone sat on them, an ink-stained desk that had seen better years decades ago and old bookcases filled with even older books that were in danger of falling apart if anyone tried to open them. On the most solid chair in the room, sat a woman dressed in a splendid forest-green gown that perfectly matched the color of her eyes. Her long black hair was done up in a bun, so as not to interfere with her research.

Even frowning in concentration, the woman’s face was beautiful. Fair skin, large, intelligent eyes covered by thick lashes, a pert nose that was only slightly upturned, high cheekbones and a pair of full lips that were redder than they should have been even without makeup. She had a voluptuous body as well, but never dressed to accentuate it. In fact, Queen Raven never worked to make herself look good and didn’t particularly care about her appearance. Her beauty was a fact of life. It got cold in the winter, dark at night, and Queen Raven was gorgeous. She’d often said she would trade it in for something useful were it an option.

Princess Rhea watched her mother work. She was bored, tired, and running out of patience.

“What are you doing, mommy?”

“I’m studying a spell, my love.”

“What kind of spell?”

“It’s a spell that makes little girl’s quiet while I’m trying to study.

Rhea giggled. “No it’s not.”

“It’s not? How do you know that? Can you read?”

“You’re silly.”

“You know I can’t concentrate if you’re talking to me, don’t you?”

“Yes, mommy.”

“Then shouldn’t you be silent?”

Rhea shook her head vigorously. “If I’m quiet, then you won’t have to take me to the kitchen for a snack, so I don’t bother you.”

“Are you hungry, Rhea?”

“Yes.”

Queen Raven sighed. “Then why didn’t you just say you were hungry?”

“Because this is more fun.”

“Enri, would you be so kind as to escort my lovely daughter to the kitchen, so I can get some work done.”

“Of course, Your Highness. Come along, Princess Rhea.”

“You still didn’t tell me about the spell.”

“If you behave, I’ll tell you later.”

“Okay, mommy. Iorana grant you wisdom.”

Her mother laughed. As Rhea started to walk away, Queen Raven grabbed her wrist and pulled her around so that they were face to face.

“I just want you to know, Rhea, and this is important, that grown ups have many responsibilities. As a queen, I have a responsibility to the kingdom. As a worshiper of Iorana, I have a responsibility to further the study of magic. I take none of those lightly. But with all the responsibilities I have, the most important of all of them is keeping you safe and making sure you’re happy. No matter how much work I have to do, I’m always with you. Always thinking about you. Do you understand?”

Rhea shifted her weight from foot to foot as if she were impatient to get going. “Yes, mommy. I understand.”

“Good. You go now, and later, I’ll tell you a story.”

Rhea pumped her fist in the air because she loved her mother’s stories more than anything else. Her mother laughed again.

Enri, Queen Raven’s personal servant, held out her hand, and Rhea took it. She skipped along happily, singing a song with no words, or at least no words that made any sense. Enri smiled down at her. Rhea thought it must even be boring for her, watching her mother trying to learn a spell.

After having a snack, which consisted of a breakfast pastry and a glass of kirn juice, Rhea followed Enri out to the gardens, where she spent time smelling flowers and chasing the first butterflies of the year. She didn’t think much about her mother, or the spell she was trying to learn. She was busy running from place to place, trying to sneak up on others in the garden without them seeing her, and picking a couple of ripe berries from one of the bushes, even though she knew she wasn’t supposed to.

After the gardens, Enri took her to the stables to pet the horses. One of the stable hands put her on top of a small pony and led it around for her. Rhea loved pretending she was riding a horse. She thought of all the stories her mother had told her of adventurers and pictured herself riding off to fight a great monster, not that she knew anything about fighting. Just the thought of it made her smile.

It was quite a long time before they returned to her mother’s study. Her mother still seemed to be hard at work. Enri let her into the room, and motioned for her to sit down and be quiet.

“I’ll be right back, I just need a moment.”

Rhea knew she had to go to the toilet and wondered why she didn’t say so. She watched her mother, motionless, staring at something on the desk. She moved closer to see what it was. There was an open book in front of her, but her mother seemed to be looking past it, at something Rhea couldn’t see.

“Mommy?”

No answer.

“Mommy, what are you staring at?”

Her mother started as if waking from a dream. Then she turned around and looked at Rhea.

“Who are you?”

“Mommy?”

“You’re not Rhea. Who are you? Who sent you?”

Her mother grabbed her arm. Rhea had never been handled like that and grew scared.

“Mommy, you’re hurting me.”

“Stop calling me that!”

Her mother released her, and she felt a great sense of relief, until a moment later, when the back of her mother’s hand smashed into her face. Rhea fell to the floor and looked up. A rage had taken her mother the likes of which she’d never seen. She was terrified.

“Mommy?”

“I don’t know what you are, but you are not my daughter.”

She took a step toward Rhea. Another. At that moment the door opened. Enri entered and saw the princess on the ground, the queen leaning over, raising a hand as if to strike her.

“Your Highness!”

Queen Raven turned to look at her servant and for a moment didn’t recognize her. Then she grew confused.

“Mommy?”

Rhea looked over at her. “Get up. Enri will take you to play. I have work to do.”

Enri didn’t point out that she had already taken her out. She walked quickly to Rhea, helped her up, and guided her from the room.

Behind her Queen Raven turned back to the desk.

“Yes, I know that. You don’t have to keep telling me. I think I know my daughter when I see her. I will not tolerate this insolence.”

Then the door closed behind them, and Rhea could hear no more.

*

It took a while to locate King Lynx, as he seldom sat idle in the banquet hall. He was in the yard, practicing archery with the guards. The moment he laid eyes on Rhea, he dropped his bow and trotted over. Already her face had swelled up from the blow she’d received and a bruise had formed.

“What happened?”

Enri looked hesitant.

“Out with it.”

“Queen Raven struck Princess Rhea.”

The King’s mouth dropped open. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. She was ranting about Rhea not being her daughter and asked who she worked for. When we left, she was talking to herself.”

“She’s in her study?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Come.”

He walked off and motioned for a couple of guards to follow. Enri had to pick up Rhea so she could keep up. When they reached the study, Queen Raven’s voice could clearly be heard, even though the door to the room was closed.

“That doesn’t make any sense. I know you’re older than me, but it doesn’t mean you’re right…Of course it’s not possible.”

King Lynx pushed open the door without knocking. Rhea was alone in the room, shouting at the air.

“Rhea?”

She rounded on him. “Don’t you start. I have enough problems with them…it.”

“Who are you talking to?”

“You at the moment.”

“Is anyone else here?”

She looked around. “Yes. No. I’m not sure. Something is here.”

“Can you tell me what that is?”

She looked past him to Rhea, who Enri had placed on the floor beside her. “I see you brought the little spy back.”

“Spy?” asked the king.

“Our daughter is grown and married, Lynx. You know this as well as I do. Therefore, this must be an impostor.”

“Raven, can you tell me what you were doing earlier?”

“Yes. I was working on a new spell. It’s almost done.”

“Did you try to cast the spell?”

“I…”

She stopped and looked around as if she didn’t know where she was or how she had gotten there. “I remember casting it, and I remember not casting it. So I either did or didn’t.”

“Is it possible the spell misfired, when you tried to cast it?”

“No…maybe?”

“Raven, I want you to listen to me carefully. You are not acting rationally. And you are not acting like yourself.”

“Oh. Maybe I’m an impostor too. That would explain a lot.” She turned to look at an empty corner of the room. “No one asked you. Stay out of it. This is between me and my husband.”

“Rhea, who are you talking to?”

“I…they don’t have a name. Or they won’t tell me their name. Or they aren’t here at all. Or I’m not here. Maybe you’re not here either.”

“I assure you, I’m here,” said the king.

“How do you know?”

“I think this is a conversation for later. Would you mind staying in your room, while we sort out a couple of things. I’ll make sure to have food sent up here.”

“You can think of food at a time like this?”

“A time like what?”

“Never mind, I was thinking of a different time.”

King Lynx looked concerned. “Stay here. Enri and Rhea will be with me, okay?”

“Oh, hi Rhea. I didn’t see you there. You go with daddy and be a good little girl, okay?”

“Okay, mommy,” said Rhea, uncertainly.

The king led them out and posted the guards on the door, locking it from they outside.

“Enri, go get a priest of Sylinar, a healer and a priest of Iorana. I have no idea what’s going on but that should cover it. I’ll take care of Rhea.”

Rhea looked up at her father, who made no attempt to hide the concern etched onto his face. “What’s wrong with mommy?”

“I wish I knew Rhea, but I think, for the time being, it’s better if we give her some space. We’ll see if we can’t figure out what’s wrong when the priests get here.”

Rhea nodded but stared at the door, until her father led her away. She could feel the pain in her face increase as it continued to swell. She wanted to cry but couldn’t let herself. Her father didn’t like it when she cried. He had told her so.

So she held the tears back, even though she knew something was terribly wrong with her mother. She closed her eyes and prayed to Iorana to save the queen from whatever was ailing her.

Eighth of Harvest 1083

Many days had passed before Rhea was allowed to see her mother. They had been hard days. She cried a lot. She didn’t sleep well at night. The palace servants doted on her, and tried to comfort her, but five-year old Rhea was inconsolable. She wanted her mommy and didn’t understand why she wasn’t allowed to see her.

Her father, busy running the kingdom and dealing with the queen’s injury, didn’t have much time for her either. She knew something was wrong but couldn’t understand what it was. And no one would tell her anything. People would tell her her mother loved her. People would say that the priests knew what they were doing and that she shouldn’t worry. Or, worst of all, that her mother would be okay. Didn’t that mean she wasn’t okay now?

She prayed to all the gods, even Iorana, though she was still mad at her. And finally, she opened her eyes one morning and found her father sitting on her bed. She was awake instantly.

“Is mommy okay?”

“Yes, Rhea, your mother is fine. I’m going to take you to see her today, and I need you to be on your best behavior.”

“Why?”

“Your mother had an accident.”

Rhea frowned. “I know that. But what happened to her.”

“Your mother was attempting to cast a new spell. The spell misfired, and she was injured. She’s okay. She can walk around and talk, but she’s still a little confused and gets upset easily. That’s why I want you to behave. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes.”

Her father studied her. “Okay. Get dressed and let’s go see mommy.”

Her father never called her mommy. That as much as anything else made Rhea worried. But she had to be a big girl now. Mommy needed her to behave. Her father had said so. So she dressed as quickly as she could, and took her father’s hand.

He led her to her parent’s chambers. There were a few people around she didn’t know. They looked like priests of Sylinar. Everyone was talking in whispers. Everyone looked so serious. She allowed her father to lead her through the forest of strangers to the door of her parent’s bedroom, which he opened. He motioned her to go inside.

Tentatively, Rhea crossed the threshold. The room wasn’t brightly lit, so at first she couldn’t make out her mother lying on the bed, propped up on pillows. When she could finally see, it looked like her mother was tying a knot into a string.

“Raven,” said her father. “I’ve brought someone to see you.”

Queen Raven didn’t look up. “Oh?”

“It’s Rhea…your daughter.”

“Mommy?”

Queen Raven continued to work on the knot. “Hello, Rhea. How are you?”

“I’m fine mommy. How are you?”

“I’m okay. I just can’t seem to get this knot right.”

Rhea moved closer to see what her mother was so fascinated by, but it just looked like a normal knot.

“I was worried, mommy.”

“About what, sweetheart?”

“About you.”

For a moment, a flash of the old Raven appeared, a gentle smile, a hint of sympathy. Then it was gone.

“Why would you worry about me?”

“Because of the accident.”

“What accident? What are you talking about?”

“I think that’s enough for now,” said her father, grabbing her shoulder to turn her around before taking her hand. “We’ll see mommy again later.”

“Bye, mommy!” shouted Rhea as her father pulled her from the room.

One of the men outside met the king’s eyes, and her father shook his head slightly. Rhea didn’t understand what was going on.

“Why was mommy acting so strange?”

Her father sat down on a seat and pulled her close.

“Rhea, your mother’s accident affected her mind. She has what we call soul damage. For a while, maybe a long while, your mother may act differently than you remember. You have to be patient with her. Can you do that?”

“Okay, Daddy. Can I see her again?”

“Let’s give it another day. We can see her tomorrow. Your mother needs her rest.”

“When will she get better?”

Her father’s face grew sad, and that too scared her. “I don’t know, my girl. I don’t know.”

He turned his head from her but before he did, she could clearly see the tears forming in his eyes.

1083-1094

Her mother did not get better. For the next few years, Princess Rhea only saw her mother in the king’s presence, and then only briefly. But Queen Raven wasn’t the same woman who had doted on her when she was a little girl. Nothing could replace that for Rhea. She felt as if she had been cast adrift in life, floating on a sea of uncertainty with no way to navigate. Her mother had been her guiding star. The one who gave her direction and purpose.

Princess Rhea was passed from servant to servant, tutor to tutor. She learned a lot, but not in the right order and not all the time. Rhea had become an afterthought as her mother’s needs took up so much of everyone’s energy. And truly, Rhea didn’t care about that. She just wanted her mommy back.

One year drifted into the next. Rhea grew older and spent more time in her mother’s study than she did anywhere else. She already knew how to read and put her efforts into studying pretty much everything. Everything except magic. After what had happened to her mother, she didn’t trust it.

But there were other books in the study. Books on history, geography, mathematics, science—Rhea read everything she could. She was particularly interested in books on healing, hoping to find something that might one day restore Queen Raven to what she had once been.

A few years later, Rhea started noticing boys. More importantly, boys started noticing her. Rhea started spending less time in the library and more time in the market place, or watching the guards practice. She wasn’t watching alone, either. Her friend Alyson was her constant companion. They did everything together. She was the daughter of a noble, whose father often visited the palace on business and spent some time there.

Alyson was outgoing, where Rhea was shy. She was bold, where Rhea was timid. Alyson, her only friend, with her long red hair, large green eyes and a small full mouth that always looked like it was pouting. Alyson had told her she had kissing lips and it’s why the boys liked her.

Rhea spent a lot of time looking at her own reflection, trying to make her lips look like Alyson’s. She wanted kissing lips too. But her mouth was too wide, her nose slightly too big (she blamed her father for that), and her eyes felt too far apart. Alyson was so pretty, and Rhea envied her, but at least she finally had someone to share her life with.

When her father noticed the girl’s friendship, he invited the noble to move into the palace as his guest, which thrilled Rhea. For once, she didn’t have to be alone.

Her and Alyson went through the normal travails of youth. Getting drunk together for the first time. Fighting over a boy they both liked. Trying to help each other get the attention of a boy they did like. In general, Alyson did better with the boys, because no one wanted to earn King Lynx’s wrath. It was a bit annoying, but compared to what had been going on, Rhea was well satisfied with her life.

She still dutifully visited her mother each week, but never for long. They never talked about anything important, and often her mother wouldn’t be coherent enough to have a conversation with her at all. Still Rhea sat with her and listened to her fanciful ramblings. After those visits, she would sometimes become depressed. Her mother had soul damage, and that couldn’t always be healed. If the high priest of Sylinar could do nothing, then what could Rhea herself do? She felt useless.

As Rhea’s sixteenth birthday approached, she started thinking more and more about which god or goddess she was going to worship. It wasn’t a difficult decision. When she was younger, she had wanted to choose Iorana, but that was out of the question after what had happened to her mother. But her love of reading and learning had brought Mitra to mind as a suitable replacement. She had visited the temple several times, and the priests and priestesses there treated her well. They’d recommend books and even lent her a few. They answered her questions. And there seemed little danger in being a servant of the goddess of lore.

When the time came to reveal her decision, everyone had gathered in the banquet hall, including her parents, waiting to hear her decision. It was the day of her sixteenth birthday. It was an usual for a child to make a choice so soon, but as she had already decided, there didn’t seem much point in waiting.

“Rhea, it is time,” said her father. “Do you know which god you wish to serve for the rest of your life?”

“Yes, father. I wish to serve Mitra.”

Her father nodded, having expected the answer. Her mother, however, did not.

“What! We talked about this. I thought you were going to choose Iorana.”

“Mother, we talked about this more than ten years ago, when I was five. We haven’t spoken about it since.”

“Rhea, you’re making a mistake. You have to choose Iorana.”

“I’ve made my choice, mother. And it’s my choice to make.”

“Quite right, said her father,” though he avoided looking at Queen Raven.

“No!”

Queen Raven fled the banquet hall. Her father, instead of staying with her, followed her mother, leaving Rhea alone. Well, alone with guards and servants. A few minutes later, a priestess of Iorana entered, and offered to lead her back to the temple.

Rhea decided there was no point waiting for her father to return. She followed the priest, trying to clear her mind. So much had happened and now this. But it wasn’t the first time she had seen her mother angry. Queen Raven was sick. She knew that. The queen couldn’t be expected to act rationally. Still, it stung. This was supposed to be her transition day, but there had been no one there to see her off. It felt almost as if she didn’t have a family.

The trip to the temple, consuming veresh for the first time and the soul journey to the other realm, all went according to plan. Then she had the strangest transition dream she’d ever heard of, at least until she’d heard of Eric’s transition dream and later Chari’s. But her dream was unusual, nonetheless.

There were no trials. No tests. Instead, she found herself in a comfortable well-furnished den with a roaring fire, a bearskin rug, and two comfortable chairs that floated just off the floor. They seemed to change color each time she looked at them. There were oil lamps lit around the room, and various shelves filled with books. Upon closer inspection she realized that she’d read all of them.

That was when Mitra appeared to her. The goddess of lore looked like an ordinary woman. Her chestnut hair reached down past her shoulders, just a bit wavy, and a tad messy as well. Her eyes were brown and kind. She might have been a farmer’s wife. A seamstress. Or a priestess of Mitra. She wore a hooded cloak that any peasant might have worn, and the sandals on her smallish feet seemed ordinary enough. If Rhea were a goddess, she would have made herself look beautiful, like her mother had been. The goddess gestured to a chair, and Rhea took it. Mitra sat in the other. She gestured and an empty rectangular table appeared in front of them.

“Are these my trials?”

“No,” said the goddess. “There will be no trials for you. This room is filled with the books you’ve read already. If you weren’t nobility, I’d have touched you anyway, for you are the very embodiment of my will. After all you have been through, and what you’ve done since, what is it you think I need to test?”

Rhea was startled by this. “I don’t know.”

“I just wanted to have a chat. To let you know I appreciate you, and I am here for you.”

“I’m sure you have better things to do than waste your time talking to me.”

“You must know a great deal about the comings and goings of the gods to make such a statement. While I am talking to you, I am talking to thousands of others at the same time. I do not waste time, and nothing learned is a waste.”

“Do you still learn?”

“Of course I learn. What can be known is infinite. What I know, as great as it is, is finite. The ratio of any quantity, no matter how great it is, when compared to the vastness of infinity, can be rounded to zero percent. For all practical purposes, I know nothing. That’s why learning is so important. Yet whatever I learn, it will remain nothing. There is no ego in learning. There is only learning, as its own end. You don’t learn to know everything, because new information comes into existence constantly. But knowing things still helps to prepare yourself for what is to come.”

“Do you know the future?”

“No. I see trends and probability, but the future has yet to be written.”

“My mother says she can see the future. She talks about it all the time.”

“Do you think she can?”

Princess Rhea was about to answer, but she stopped to think about it. Could she really be sure that her mother’s lunacy didn’t have some sort of foundation in fact.

“I don’t believe so, but I don’t see how I can possibly know.”

“How do you think you could find out?”

“I suppose, I could do an experiment and record what she says, and then compare it against what happens. It would be time consuming.”

“Tell me about her. Your mother.”

“Surely you know all about her already.”

“I know about her, but not necessarily about how she affects you. This is your transition dream, after all, not hers. Also, I can predict the future to some degree.”

“You can?”

“Yes. In just about ten seconds, hot chocolate will appear on the table in front of us.”

Rhea laughed. “I never pictured what talking to a god would be like, but this isn’t it.”

Mitra’s smile warmed her. “Gods can be like parents in a way. They guide and correct you. They can help you deal with emotional trauma. They can help you get through the hard times in life.”

“I don’t feel like I have that with my parents. Any of it. Do you feel that way about Sylinar?”

Mitra smiled. “No, Rhea. Though you call Sylinar the mother of the gods, she’s not my mother in a literal sense. She simply created me. It was an easy analogy for humans to grasp, nothing more than that. Just as I call Iorana my sister, but she isn’t actually my sister. She’s another of Sylinar’s creations, forged in the same way.”

Rhea thought about the word forged. The image of Sylinar pounding a large hammer into molten-hot god, on top of some sort of holy anvil almost made her laugh.

“Am I really not going to have any trials?”

“You’re not. You’re going to have hot chocolate with me, and we’re going to have a chat about what you want and expect from life, and where you might go from here.”

And that’s what happened. Mitra and Rhea spoke for hours, after which Mitra gave her her first skills and her class. Scholar. Rhea was a Level 1 Scholar. It was one of the proudest moments of her life.

When she returned to the palace, neither her father nor mother were available. Alyson was out with her family as well. For the first time in a couple of years, Rhea felt alone, but today, of all days, shouldn’t have been like that. This was her mother’s fault.

Even though she knew her mother wasn’t to blame, she was hurt that even this special day had to be ruined. She didn’t know what to do, but she had to do something. In this case, that something involved stealing a bottle of wine from her father’s cellar and getting drunk by herself.

A guard found her passed out in the wine cellar later that night, and helped her back to her chambers. Her father visited her the next day. She had the worst hangover she’d ever had, and she wasn’t in the mood for the inevitable lecture. She braced herself for it as best she could and hoped to ride it out—but that lecture never came.

“Your mother is very angry, Rhea.”

“I saw.”

“I mean very angry. She doesn’t want to have anything to do with you anymore.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry. You know she’s not well.”

“Maybe I don’t want to have anything to do with her either.”

“Either way, I was going to put this off, but I don’t see any reason to now. I’ve chosen a suitable husband for you, and you’ll be getting married as soon as we can arrange it.”

Rhea hadn’t been prepared for that. “What? What are you talking about? Who is it?”

“Prince Leonid of Melar.”

“Melar? Really? We can do better than Melar, surely.”

“Better than Melar is not currently available, and I don’t want to wait. Having you and your mother in the same palace right now is not tenable.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your mother is threatening to do you bodily harm. She means to kill you.”

“Kill me? For choosing a god? I thought that was supposed to be my choice.”

“It is.”

“Can I talk to her?”

“Absolutely not. I forbid it. We only just got her calm. We had to tie her to the bed to prevent her from going after you. You’ll be leaving tomorrow, heading for Melar.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yes, Rhea. It’s for the best, believe me.”

“But this is my home.”

“This was your home. You’ll have a new home now.”

“I’ve never even met this Leonid.”

“He’s smart. He’s aggressive. He’ll make a good husband and father strong children.”

“But I don’t want to leave.”

“Then it’s good that you’re not the king. I am. I’ve made up my mind.”

Rhea had had enough. She leapt the short distance between them and swung her hand to slap her father in the face. He blocked it easily and she pulled her arm back, the pain already spreading through her wrist.

“Rhea…don’t. This is hard enough.”

“For who? For you? Should I feel sympathy.”

“I understand. You should have servants pack you up and say your goodbyes.”

“But Alyson isn’t even here.”

“Write her a note. Because tomorrow morning at first light, you’re out of here.”

Without another word, her father turned and left the room. Rhea felt trapped. Abandoned. She had felt alone before, but this was much worse. And worst of all, her father had chosen her mother over her. She wanted to scream, and then she did. She yelled at the gods, at fate, and particularly at Iorana, who really was to blame for this whole thing.

No one came to see if she was okay. No one even knocked on her door. No one cared enough to see if she was all right.

Rage gave way to tears, and eventually sleep. She never wrote the note to her best and only friend. She never said goodbye to her father and mother. The next morning she left Zoloa and didn’t set foot there again until King Terrence and a chirkir had made that decision for her.