Into the Light

Chapter Seven: The Praying of a Weather God

For the rest of the day, she sat inside that carriage, curtains closed and in the dark. Her feelings of unhappiness, loneliness, and sadness all came rushing to her and even though she said she would never feel upset again, even as the powerful sorceress she was, she couldn't help herself. The water works poured out of her and wouldn't stop.

Well imagine that. I must say that I feel bad for her; you don't know her like I do. She has done despicable things, that even I wouldn't forgive her for, but deep down, there's something sparkling and golden, hiding behind all that darkness in her soul, just waiting to jump out. Again...if you tell her this, I will attack you like a piranha and hyena combo; just warning you.

"Miss?" The driver hesitantly said muffled through the closed doors that blocked and separated the dark from the light.

"What?" Came the annoyed tone and voice of the heroin—er—villain that we have come to know and love—scratch that—hate. Larmina finished her moping and finally settled down, looking composed and refined once again, as if nothing happened.

"Well—uh, it's getting dark, so I suggest we stop for the night and make preparations."

She rolled her eyes, then realizing that he couldn't see it, she responded maliciously, "Of course." Yanking the doors open, she stepped outside and did a dramatic yawn, taking in her surroundings.

They stopped in a clearing somewhere in the woods, it hadn't occurred to her that they would be traveling through the woods, though of course, when you close the curtains and sit in the darkness, there's not much you can see nor predict. The sun peeked from the low tops of the evergreens and shined its golden rays across her face. Larmina cursed to herself then suddenly grinned wickedly, "It is getting late, Jeffrey, I do think it would be wise of us to rest. Considering the circumstances, that is."

"Circumstances?" Jeffrey tilted his head, the bit of intimidation hinting visibly throughout his face.

She narrowed her eyes and said, "Circumstances of course. You need to be protected and sheltered, who know what lurks in the midst of the night."

"Well I—I don't think that would be necessary, really."

"Why not? Of course you know the stories of Shenia's woods." Larmina said very innocently, faking everything of course.

"Yes I have, but I assure you that won't be necessary. Now if you could excuse me, I would like to get everything ready." He hurried away before Larmina even gave him the chance to excuse him.

How rude, she thought, laughing to herself, I know at least 50 different insects I can turn him into, and am profoundly offended that he doesn't even know any of my methods. Maybe I should show him...

But the little, contradicting voice inside of her rose to the surface once again, Oh shut up. You can't drive a bloody horse and carriage, can you?"

And as always, that little voice won.

Huffing and arguing in protest, Larmina went off into the trees to occupy herself until nightfall truly comes. The crickets started chirping, rubbing their dainty legs together, resulting in a tremendous noise. The sky was now a dark shade of royal blue, and the twinkle of the stars started making their way out, shy and elegant, but in a graceful manner.

Here in Shenia, the moon was twice as big and the stars filled the night sky, more than you can draw pencil dots on a paper. Lekima, the Goddess of the moon, sun, and constellations, long ago decided that each person must have a star. Once a new babe is born, another star is added to the sky. She did this because she felt that everyone needed a part of the world with them as they lived, and by technically owning a star, you held a piece of the world. And this is something the Shenians that worship her take very seriously, religiously in fact.