Nine-year-old Amy Winter's holiday plans have gone from exciting to total disaster.
How is she supposed to have any fun being packed up and sent to stay with a weird relative she can't even remember?
And Aunt Penelope is as weird as they get. With...
Seven bald men, with pointy ears and four golden symbols tattooed across their forehead, stared straight into her eyes from the low wooden chairs. Their long grey beards, plaited at the tips, were pressed against their white and blue robes. An open-book shaped crest, looking more like a badge, was displayed on their sleeves, each a different colour.
Her aunt was seated on a chair in the corner. She looked ready to wrestle a bear with her flashing green eyes and cheeks so flushed that they almost matched her hair.
Still standing, Amy looked down at her shiny silver sandals. She couldn't stop shaking. Her arms wrapped tightly around her waist. Even though the scratches had disappeared and her dress was just like new again, she still felt the shock running through her body, recalling everything that had happened.
"Tell us your name child."
Amy looked up, not really sure which one had spoken.
"Amy Winter" she spoke softly.
"Amy.... ? It seems we have a problem already." The elderly man with the brown book crest stood up abruptly. "A Storyteller should always have at least six letters in her name. Do you not have a longer name?"
"Only my middle name, Elizabeth."
All the men started speaking at once in a language she didn't understand. Looking at her aunt several times then back at her, finally pleased with themselves.
"From now on, your Storyteller name is Elizabeth." The same man declared, smiling smugly, almost falling back into his chair.
"Welcome Elizabeth Winter." Said the smallest man with the purple book crest, clearing his throat before continuing. His voice was surprisingly low and husky. "We are the Storytelling Tribunal. We do not take our jobs lightly... We can see clearly that your likeness to one of our founding members, Elizabeth Castle - your great, great, great, great grandmother - is irrefutable. She was the first Storyteller ever and a person whom the tribunal members admire greatly. It was with great despair that we had to test you in this way."
He glanced at her aunt while speaking. and her returned look made him need to adjust his robe neckline, pausing to regain composure.
"But times have changed. Mistakes have been made. We have to accept that not every relative of the original seven Storytellers are suitable for this role. We have to ensure only those with kindness in their heart, who truly value others and are willing to risk their own life to save another are given the precious gift of the Storyteller." He paused.
Standing slowly, hobbling over to Amy taking her cold young hand from her waist into his warm wrinkled old one. Gently, he continued.
"You have proven yourself to be worthy of this gift, my child."
Amy felt the horror of her experience immediately fade away. The trembling stopped. The warmth from his hand relaxed every muscle, giving her an inner strength she knew she'd never experienced before. She stood straight, a new glint in her eye that wasn't there before as she smiled, thanking him.
"A Storyteller is a very rare and special individual indeed. They are able to hold the pain of others in their hands and read it like a book. Then using only their imagination, tell stories to dissolve the pain and heartache allowing the body to heal."
" We have no doubt," he smiled warmly, "that you will become a great Storyteller under the guidance of your aunt Penelope Castle. On behalf of the Tribunal, we accept you into the Storytelling family." He shook her hand, placing a long, white, hooded cape with a blue open book crest on its sleeve, around her. Bowing low before stepping back.
The other six men hobbled forward like penguins, to shake her hand, bowing low before waddling back to their chairs.
"Your gift is designed around your ancestor. Each generation receiving part of the original Storyteller's power. The Didactic Stones will decide the right gift to suit your needs. We wish you well on your journey to becoming a Storyteller." With that he returned to his chair.
Aunt Penelope approached her niece with open arms.
"I'm so proud of you Amy. Although if I had known what those silly little Tribunal men were up to, I would have said something to prepare you. Your face alone should have been enough. Elizabeth....It does have a certain ring to it. You are going to be great, my dear, I just know it. I should have guessed Alison wouldn't have left you with only three letters in your name. Now... are you up to getting your gift?"
Amy smiled nervously and nodded. She only hoped this gift was something she wouldn't regret.
Her aunt returned to her chair.
The room went dark.
The silence, deafening.
Then a light shone down on her. Three gold-quartz stone obelisks, almost as tall as the dome ceiling, suddenly appeared in a semi circle in front of her. In its center, a carved stone hand emerged from the ground - a silk cushion in its open palm - inviting her.
Amy took a deep breath.
The coolness of the cushion as she sat, helped calm her nerves. Her hands raised without her directing them to lay against the stones on either side, her head felt compelled to lean back to rest against the golden crystal behind her.
And then she heard them.
The whispering voices. Tiny murmurs at first, repeating over and over the same words before increasing in intensity, until her head was completely filled with them.
You were right.
She has finally come.
She is the one we have been waiting for.
How can she not succeed?
She looks exactly like you!
Then silence reigned again.
Close your eyes, sweet girl. This different voice sounded so angelic.
Amy trustingly did as she was told. As her long eyelashes touched her skin, she felt no fear, only a peaceful harmony caressing her body. She instinctively knew this was what she had been waiting for her whole life.
In her mind she could visually see white light racing through every nerve, artery, and vein as it flooded with untold energy. Her body felt so alive. Then the light pulsed around her heart, as though checking for something before giving her a big ticked box and a smiley face. Then it vanished.
A smiling lady appeared who looked like her mother and her aunt put together. Amy realised the woman actually looked exactly like her, only older.
Amy, she spoke with a voice like chimes in the wind. I am your great great great great grandmother, Elizabeth Castle. I have been waiting for this moment for so long. This ceremony was my chance to give you a gift unlike all others.
My gift to you is....
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