the Forest of Emmitaenu

Scrying Stone

After receiving the priestess instructions, Tres walked home to her own cottage. The first thing Leann had asked of her was definitely the easiest. She had been told to keep an eye on Lienkin.

Tres couldn't have been happier if Leann had asked her to fill the position of coven maiden. That would make her next in line for coven priestess the same way the coven guardian was next in line for coven priest. She still hoped that one day she would be, as soon as someone else took over as the scribe, and with Fantasia and Jules yet to be initiated, surely one of them would take her place.

That was however something to look forward to on another day. Right now, what she needed to do was find Lienkin. Rather than going back into the woods and walking around haplessly until they ran into each other, Tres decided for once to take the more magical approach.  And that she could do from the comfort of her own home.

Both of her parents were at home when she walked indoors. Her father was productively working on the loom, chewing on a hickory stick, and humming aloud. Her mother was bent over the table comparing one of her drawing to the pattern she'd cut from a length of cloth while she sang sweetly to her husband's tune.

"Hello darling!" Her father beamed. "Feel like joining your mother and I for a song?" Tres smiled gleefully, she loved to sing and her parents had taught her many songs, but she had something even better in mind.

"I would love to, but..." she winked, "I am on a mission for the priestess."  Tahj and Raye both looked surprised. They traded glances, sharing a smoldering sensation of pride, before shooing Tres along on whatever business the priestess had assigned.

"Well then, if Leann has a task for you, go on about your business," her mother chimed. "Shoo, shoo."

"May I borrow the scrying stone?" Tres asked them. Both nodded permissively. 

The scrying stone was a family heirloom that had survived the trip to Opal with her parents from their French colony long before she was born.  Tres didn't know too much about their journey except that it had been a daring escape from disaster. They refused to go into more detail than that. They even refused to explain to the elders what French meant except to identify the strange language they often spoke and sang in their songs.

Scrying was a difficult process for Tres, but it was a rewarding one if she got it right. Collecting the small stone from the assortment of rocks in the cabinet, she went with it into her room and shut her door for some privacy. Then she sat on the floor and cupped the smooth, grey streaked rock in her hands.

Tres slowed her breathing and concentrated on her goal to find Lienkin. Staring at the swirling shades of grey on the surface of the stone, she urged her mind to channel into a meditative state. It wasn't easy since she felt squeamish and her nose started itching. She resisted the urge  to scratch her nose or to find a pillow to sit on and focused on Lienkin. Show me Lienkin, she commanded the stone.

Looking harder, Tres found his face in the foggy depths of the darker grey swirls. Her vision expanded to include the trees surrounding him. Past the nearest tree trunk she could see the old dirt road that would lead him back to the village. Then she gasped and almost lost the image as she saw for the first time that he wasn't alone.

Lienkin had stopped on the threshold of the village perimeter to pull the fair one into his hugging embrace. The redheaded girl looked up at him with those frightening green eyes. Tres recoiled, remembering how they had locked on her right after that strange bird started circling over her head.  Even though she'd used all the runes she knew to cover her in the bushes, those green eyes had seen right through to her.

"Stranger," Tres heard the girl murmur in a voice barely above a whisper, "what is your name?" She looked suddenly tense, as if she thought he would kiss her. Tres felt a strong urge to slap the girl until she noticed the way Lienkin was angling closer. It made Tres' stomach churn and she thought she might start crying. This was absolutely not fair.

"I am called Lienkin," he answered her. His deep dark eyes emulated such strong happiness that spying, even Tres felt tiny waves of shivers. Her heart stopped as Lienkin leaned in and Tres watched the girl's eyes slide closed in anticipation. The awareness that maybe she wanted to be kissed exposed a leaping sense of joy on his face. Tres' heart was breaking, and each jagged shattered piece ripped angry holes inside her body, filling her full of agony.

"No!" Tres screamed. Abruptly Lienkin straightened up, and Tres could see through her blurry tears that she was caught. She dropped the stone as if it had burned her and her scrying ended.

"Tres, what's wrong?" He father was standing in her doorway, her mother peaking around him. They both looked worried. Tres wiped the tears off her face and sniffled, lifting her chin a notch.

"I need to talk to the priestess," she said.

"We'll go with you," her mother responded, pushing past her husband and offering her open arms to her daughter. Tres slipped into her mother's hold and allowed herself to be comforted but she did not cry anymore. Together, her parents escorted her back to Leann.