Chapter 1
Chapter I
Regardless if a person lived in the High or Low Countree of Alfheim, the season was always the same. It was warm enough to grow fruits and vegetables and it was cool enough to have a harvest. However, the weather was rather unpredictable though they were only ever graced with rain and sunshine. And while the sunshine and clear skies always drew the residents of that mystical realm out of doors, it was the rain that spoke to Murielle's soul. It connected her to the deep inner magic of the realm and it would always make her feel happy and free.
It delighted her to know end that she woke up on Kentonmen, a time to celebrate the coming of age, to find a pleasant drizzle of rain. She would have been far more pleased to have been woken to thunder, lightning, and a torrential downpour, but the easy fall of rain would soon disappear and allow her and her mother a pleasant walk to the center of town. Murielle had risen with enough time to watch dim light creep across the city with fog enveloping the imposing buildings to create a strange wonderland. Karanhil was the High Countree's capitol city, and it was slowly coming to life as many left their homes to begin working in their various shops and trades.
"How long have you been awake, da'len?"
Murielle smiled into the knees she'd drawn close to her chest and turned to see her mother standing in the doorway. She was quite positive that no matter how old she got, her mother was always going to refer to her as a child. "Not very long, mother. It was still dark when I woke."
"That doesn't tell me very much child, as the sun has just barely risen." Araiel moved forward, her long cream dress rustling the floor. "But with the rain coming down, I don't think I can be surprised at your early rise. Did you get much sleep through the night?
"I feel rested," she responded, hoping that would be enough to appease her mother. Both were undoubtedly nervous over the morning's coming events, but there was little either of them could do. Murielle was to travel to Asgard with the graduating class of Linta, the High Countree's best school. They were to stay a week, as was custom, to learn more about other realms and to, hopefully, better situate themselves and to make them productive members of society. At the end of the week, many were given the option to travel and live in other realms if they chose. Some journeyed to Vanaheim, and a very select few went to Midgard. The rest would choose to return home to Alfheim, but the fervent wish of all was to be asked to stay on Asgard in whatever capacity the Allfather and Allmother saw necessary. Despite the great honor it would be, Murielle's fervent wish was to return home. She wanted to return to the Low Countree and live the remainder of her days with people and sacred realm she loved.
"Do you wish you weren't going?"
Murielle was an easy read; she always had been. And so it came no surprise to her that her mother could so readily guess what she was thinking.
"You've talked about Asgard for as long as I can remember, Mother. To see its splendor with my own eyes is something that I never expected and I am very grateful for the opportunity go and appear before the royal Asgardian family." She stopped and turned her attention back towards the window. More people were beginning to fill the streets and the sun was casting its early morning shadows upon the city.
"But…?" Her mother prompted, hoping to have her daughter tell her what was truly troubling her
"We both know that I was asked out of politeness, Mother." She rested her head against the cool glass and sighed. "I graduated top in my class and to not have me go would be far greater an insult than the alternative. I've proven myself to the High Elves and now I fear that I shall have to do that with the Asgardians."
"Then why did you accept the invitation?" Araiel ran a hand through her daughter's hair in comfort. "You could have said no."
The corner of Murielle's mouth twitched. "I wouldn't give them the satisfaction. My peers won't make this trip easy, but then they didn't make my school days pleasant either."
Linta was a very selective private academy where only the best elves went to be educated and trained. As a half-elf, Murielle hadn't been accepted because of her skill but because she was different. She was to be seen as a lesson to all elves who lived in Thyscar, the capitol of the Low Countree, that trash didn't associate with the elite. But she'd defied all expectations and odds. She excelled in her studies and had been awarded the highest honor of the academy. Teachers who had once ridiculed her, praised her and often said that others should be like her. It had irked her classmates and there had been more than one fight because of it…on the training ground of course. Fights were not tolerated at the academy.
"There is also the matter of Father." Murielle looked at her mother with questioning eyes but the unasked query hung in the area between them, forever to be unanswered.
"Whether or not you meet your father is entirely out of my hands. He has honored his side of the bargain and has stayed an inactive participant since the day you were born. I told him that if you were to ever have your Kentonmen on Asgard, what happened next would be for him to handle." Araiel moved from the bed and pulled her daughter's presenting dress out of the closet.
"But how will I know it is him if he doesn't introduce himself to me?" Murielle swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood. She moved to grab her brush from the small dresser and ran it through her waist length tresses.
"I guess you won't know." Araiel withdrew the gown from its dress carrier and hung it on the closet door. The gown was the color of storm clouds, Murielle's favorite. It was streaked with silver that would pick up any light it caught and had long bell sleeves. Despite the amount of material, it was light weight which would be perfect for the warm weather on Asgard.
"Did you say your goodbyes before you left?" Araiel moved her daughter to a chair and began to work on her hair.
"Yes I did. Jaydine and I had a pleasant picnic lunch yesterday and I said goodbye to Gaelin before coming home last night."
Araiel was silent, knowing full well what was on her daughter's heart. That Gaelin had been madly in love with her since they were children was the worst kept secret in Thyscar. That Murielle did not return those feelings was knowledge known just as well. The worst of it still was that the two of them would be performing together during Halbera, a time where they reaped their harvest and gave thanks for the great bounty. It was a time where everyone rejoiced in the founding of their country and to remind themselves that they had much to be grateful for.
"Perhaps Gaelin will realize what so many of us have known for a long time. That Jaydine would be far better suited to him than you."
Murielle nodded, finding truth in her mother's words. Gaelin was the eldest son of Heron Beron, the governing lord entity of Tyscar. Gaelin would one day fill his father's shoes, and Murielle was no politician. While she loved the people, and strove to help those who needed it, she preferred the house she shared with her mother, and learning all she could. Jaydine was vivacious and loved being in the spotlight. She'd be better for him than Murielle would. Gaelin just couldn't see it…yet.
"Do you think the princes are quite so different then when you were there, Mother?" Murielle peeked at her mother's reflection and saw her mouth twitch.
"Prince Thor, the eldest, is very outgoing and desirous of attention from anyone willing to give it. The younger brother, Prince Loki, I would always see with a book in hand. As if he was more interested in studying than the people who milled about around him."
Murielle nodded slightly, not wanting to disrupt her mother's work on her hair. The rumor mills of the dashing princes was always filled with the latest at the Academy. Those who returned each year were full of stories about the charming Thor and the mischievous Loki. There descriptions didn't seem too far off from her mother's recollection of them. Thor loved to be in the forefront of everyone's mind while Loki seemed more concerned to hide in the shadows.
Both mother and daughter were left to their thoughts for a while. Araiel worried over her half-elf daughter, who had seen much distrust and dislike during her school years. That she was able to go to Asgard was something that she'd fought for for quite some months. All mothers feel as if their children were destined for greatness, but the older woman knew that her daughter would do things that no one believed she could.
Murielle was a mix of emotions. Excited at the prospect of seeing new places, learning new things, and meeting new people. Yet at the same time fearful, for she couldn't help but wonder what sort of reception she'd receive. She wasn't hideous but neither did she have the same striking looks that many of the full-blooded elves were blessed with. Many of her peers had silver, blonde, or white hair, with long ears and alabaster skin. Murielle's hair was black and curly, an Alfheim sign that she was of mixed heritage. Her skin tended to brown if left in the sun for too long and her ears, while pointed at the top were small, reflecting the fact that once again, she was not a full elf.
Physical discrepancies aside, she had a sharp tongue, and refused to back down from a challenge, which contrasted starkly with the docile and calm elders of the High Countree. She relied heavily on her magic, as opposed to the weapons many of them had been trained with. She valued learning and furthering her education, however it manifested itself, while others took lessons on diplomacy, politics, and the proper way to hold a fork.
"Do you remember everything I've taught you?" Araiel asked, placing the final pins in the braided updo.
"I think it can all be summed up into simply being myself?" Murielle reached a hand up to lightly caress the braided crown, trying to not wince at how tight it was.
"Yes. Now it's only a week, but I think you'll have plenty of opportunities to get yourself into plenty of trouble."
"Trouble just finds me, mother. I do not go looking for it."
"Be that as it may, keep your battles on the field, daughter. You'll have the opportunity to show off at the Provings. Save your quarrels for then." Araiel spoke of the event which each elf would enter a mock battle with an opponent and show off all that they'd learned at the Acadmey. She placed a few decorative pins into her daughter's hair and declared her finished. "Did you decide on a gift for the family?"
Murielle smiled. "I did actually. The Forest gave me a seed from one of its ancient trees. If accepted, I can plant it on Asgard."
"I'm amazed you'd be granted such a gift. The ancient magic of Alfheim has always favored you."
Murielle smiled into the mirror, the stories of Araiel's arrival into Thyscar and Murielle's subsequent birth played in her mind. "The seed is protected in my traveling coat."
"I think we might have gone over the top in keeping everything protected."
Murielle couldn't agree more as she made the transition from night gown to presenting gown. Everything had been safely packed inside her trunk which, with a small spell, had been shrunk to a size so small that it fit inconspicuously inside her pocket. She had no friends amongst the others who were going to Asgard and she had no doubt that the teasing and bullying she'd endured at school, would carry over to the Golden City.
The sound of Karanhil's bell tower rang in the air, giving them a half-hour's warning to be at the square. Murielle stepped into a pair of silver shoes that she could tie around her ankle and put on her dark brown traveling coat. After making sure that her gift and trunk were secure, the two set off arm in arm for the town square which would take the young half-elf to Asgard.