The Keepers of Eternity

V

By the time Abreigelle approached the front of the mansion, the moons had risen, bringing with them a host of brilliant stars. She strode down the driveway, passing underneath the impossibly long trellis framework on which millions of clematis flowers hung. Little oil lamps provided some light inside the tunnel, but not nearly as much as the fireflies which bobbed in midair, swirling around her as she walked. A light wind blew.

This was the kind of night that lived in dreams. With so much excitement pumping through her veins, Abreigelle had to restrain herself from shaking visibly, or sprinting the rest of the way. For some reason, she had been born with an electric energy—as her mother had called it—an energy she sometimes struggled to keep at bay. Many nights, she had lay awake in bed, her mind racing, not wanting to sleep. What was sleep compared to the vibrancy of wakefulness, of evenings like this?

When she emerged from the flowery passageway, Abreigelle found herself at the foot of the driveway, where a long train of horse-drawn carriages was parked. There were people all around, and everyone was hustling about, trying to finish whatever business that had to finish before setting off for the capital city of Blair Sheen. Most of the servants, Abreigelle noticed, were clustered around Lord Varner's family, making any last adjustments to Neureans' fine clothing.

Lord Varner himself was chatting his firstborn son, Candon, and his mouth curled in an ugly frown. The lord of the Varner household was broad-shouldered, and had the typical features any of his race possessed—skin tones washed out of any color and beady black eyes. The last remaining wisps of his silver hair poked out underneath the the tall cylindrical cap that he wore, a traditional Shah Neurean piece adorned with feathers. Abreigelle cringed, hating him for what he had done to her own family, to her own father. If not for Lord Varner, her father would still be here today, and if only he could be here tonight of all nights...

Abreigelle had learned quickly that missing her father wouldn't solve anything, and wouldn't bring him back. Deep inside her heart, the faintest glimmer of hope dwelt, telling her that he was alive somewhere out in the world, wanting to come home to see his family. Maybe he couldn't come home. Maybe there was something left he had to do. It didn't matter if everyone had accepted his death, and moved on. Abreigelle had accepted his survival, and moved on. But, her thoughts would sometimes drift, and she would see his face and the lovely half-smile that he had always worn, strangely so much like Lenore's, only more knowing.

A warm fog settled over Abreigelle's heart, numbing it, and she blinked. Lord Varner and Candon had disappeared into the grandest carriage at the front of the train along with their own personal Swordfellow guards, leaving behind a crowd of idle human servants. Among them, Abreigelle spotted her older sister.

"Lenore!" Abreigelle called, clutching her dress so she wouldn't trip on it as she ran.

Lenore turned, and then did a double-take as she noticed the crown of little white flowers on Abreigelle's head.

She opened her mouth as if to protest, but instead smiled. "Are you ready for this? You sure you still want to go?"

"It's not like I have a choice," Abreigelle said. She was, after all, supposed to do whatever Beshna asked her to. "but I really do want this. I'm excited to go, and, of course, I do enjoy wearing something other than my usual green skirt."

Grinning, Lenore leaned over and kissed Abreigelle's forehead. "Good luck." she murmured, "Don't do anything reckless or stupid."

"Of course," Abreigelle sighed, pulling away from her sister. "and... don't mess up my half of the room while I'm gone."

That made her giggle, "You half of the room is already a mess."

"It's personalized. So, don't tidy it up, or else I won't know where you've placed my belongings. I have little as it is..."