The Sun Kingdom: The Sword of Myn’: IV: Midnight Rose
Myn' Revealed
“Estæ, eia! Calm down!” Earthiana cried. Stumbling forward, she laid her hand on the horse's lathered muzzle and stroked his forelock.
“Ssh,” she breathed, half to herself. She could feel the tingling in her skull. Not now – there wasn’t time and they didn’t know anything yet!
Where was Bran? And the rest of the party?
Her eyes swept the valley and the woodland beyond, but there was neither a sign of the other horses, nor their riders.
Eya’s gaze traveled over the stallion's coat. A blackened, bloody gash trickled streams of blood down his foreleg as Estae stood still, panting and dripping with sweat. His mane and tail were also matted with dried blood, and the saddle was tipped precariously to one side.
Lips trembling as she whispered soothing words to him, Earthiana fumbled with her handkerchief and pressed it against the wound, carefully wiping the blood away.
The abbot sent several of the sisters to fetch water, herbs, and cloths to cleanse and bind the animal's wounds.
“He must have been attacked!” Earthiana whirled to face the abbot. “Who would hurt my brother?”
“Hush, daughter. Brothers Jacon, Junil, Cinncinaté, and Marphas: go search for Prince Bran.” The abbot turned to the frightened princess. “Who else was with him?”
“My parents and Auranessa in the very least - I know not how many others!”
She tugged at his sleeve as the abbot repeated this to the friars.
“Do let me go, too!” she pleaded. “I have to find them! They must be hurt!”
The abbot raised his hand and silenced her.
“Child, if they were attacked as we both suspect, the attackers, whether man or beast, may still be present. You are unarmed and you do not know how to protect yourself. The brothers will search thoroughly and will take word to the palace if they are not found. It may be only that Estae was attacked, and the others are delayed by Bran’s need for a mount.”
Earthiana watched with frozen eyes as the four friars mounted the draft horses and rode off towards the palace. The abbot gently took her arm.
“I'll tell you what you can do,” he murmured. “You can help the sisters care for the horse.”
Earthiana sighed. A horse - well, it was Bran's horse, and she was equally as fond of Estae as her own mare. It would keep her hands busy, if not her mind.
She managed to help Sisters Marina and Therès lead the stallion to a roomy double-stall in the veterinary stables.
Eya coaxed the animal into lying down; he struggled to obey her, carefully lowering himself to his knees before sinking down with an exhausted thump. Cool water cleansed the wounds and rinsed the blood from the stallion's mane and tail; herbs soothed the burning cuts.
Earthiana sat back on her heels and stared at the stallion. Her gloved hands, steady throughout the procedure, were now covered with blood and began to tremble. Her mind, briefly calm and level, now grew alternately panicky and numb.
Wounding a horse was oddly unnecessary, wasn’t it? If one was going for the rider, they could target the rider alone, unless it was a beast after the horses - or unless it was a man bent on using the most destructive methods of play, striking the horse down to throw the rider - Bran might have been seriously injured, broken his neck, or any number of limbs -
She groaned and would have covered her face if not for the bloodied gloves. If not for the invisible chains that even the abbot, the friars, and the sisters placed on her for being a young princess, she would have run to those woods on foot and torn them apart to find her family and heal her brother.
Bran! Their father and mother! Auranessa! Where were they? The brothers had not yet returned, and the day was growing deeper.
Dazed by everything that had occurred, Earthiana knelt there, Estae’s muzzle in her hand, unable to think.
Sister Therès took her by the arm, and, fearing that she would faint, insisted that she lay down; the brothers would find out what had happened.
“They'll be back soon,” she assured the princess.
Lying down only caused Earthiana to begin to panic. Helplessness was claustrophobic in itself.
Desperate, she arose at half-past nine and paced the corridor until she heard the doors of the great hall opening, and several persons entering, voices hushed. She ran, ducking through the latticed door that closed the guests’ quarters off from the common areas.
The abbot was standing there with the four brothers who had begun the search. They turned to face her amidst the flickering firelight and bowed.
“Princess, you should be resting,” the abbot murmured. “But as long as you are here -”
He waved for Brother Junil to speak. The friar stepped forward. In his hands was Bran's satchel, the one he had used for nearly ten years - Earthiana used to tease him, but even in a sea of luggage she would know it for her brother’s, and she loved that.
“We found this under a shrub in the woods,” Brother Junil said quietly. “There was evidence of a fight, and some blood, perhaps from your brother’s mount. We searched the area and found no other sign of your family. We took the news back to the palace . . . it appears it was only the King and Queen, Prince Bran and Princess Auranessa who were making their way here. A full search party is out there now.”
He handed the satchel to the stunned Princess. “I'm sorry.”
A gust of wind blew through the hall as the main door crashed open a second time. It was Mercir who was standing breathless in the entryway, eyes searching for Earthiana.
“Earthiana!” His voice was hoarse as he ran and scooped her up.
Earthiana hugged him fiercely. Hot tears flooded her eyes as he stroked the flaming tresses. In the very least, Mercir was safe, and he was the wisest, trained to take the throne - Earthiana and her siblings had always been able to lean on him whenever their parents had traveled throughout the kingdom. But now they would have to lean on each other, until the fear had passed. Aphrodelle would take on their mother’s duties, but for how long would she need to?
“I'm grateful whoever attacked our family did not attack you first, and that our other siblings did not accompany our parents,” Mercir whispered, “if there is any bright light left in this.”
It was evident that he, too, had been crying.
“Why? Why would anyone kidnap our family? We almost never even leave Solaria, and no one here would dare to harm them-” Earthiana demanded. “And Auranessa is ill! She's going to – she'll -”
“I know!” Mercir shushed her. “They must be outsiders, neither of Christian faith or Cosmotarian. You are right, none would dare. But have trust, sister; God is in control. Christ knows everything, and He knows where our family is. He will take care of them. I promise you, we will find them!”
He set her down with a sigh. Glancing away, he blinked back tears before looking at Earthiana again.
“The search party will continue until dawn,” he said a bit gruffly. “If it yields nothing – well, we'll deal with it then. We may have to send out a planet-wide, even system-wide search party. Father spoke of mercenaries. Perhaps they can help us now more than before! Until then, little sister, I want you to stay here. You'll be safe . . . I hope.”
“Princess Earthiana may have the room prepared for Princess Auranessa,” the abbot murmured. “We will guard her as best we can, and the abbey creatures will keep close to her door.”
Mercir nodded, evidently relieved. The abbey’s pets, dogs and cats alike, of all sizes, were known for watching over visitors in the long night hours. Mercir looked down at Earthiana.
“I'll come for you in the morning,” he said softly. “Try to sleep tonight, little sunshine.”
Somewhat at peace due to the abbot’s promise to have Masses said for the royal family’s safe return, Mercir took leave and returned to the knights waiting outside.
Earthiana pressed her face close to the glass pane of one of the tall windows, striving to see her brother ride off through the sheets of pouring rain. She sighed and slumped down on the window seat.
The abbot motioned for the friars to leave. He came to Earthiana and laid his hand on her shoulder.
“We'll do what we can in the morning,” he murmured. “God created the night for rest and renewal; let us take advantage of His gift.”
Sister Therès came in and gently guided the princess to the room which ought to have seen Auranessa by now. A black kitten named Mero, and Tahir, a calf-sized hound with floppy ears, were brought to take up their post.
Once the door had shut behind Sister Therès, Earthiana sank down beside the bed, letting Tahir lay his nose on her shoulder. Mera made a nest out of one of the silk-covered pillows and fell asleep, filling the room with tiny purrs.
The normally rustic chamber had been brightened for the ill child who should have been there, and the beloved snowbells had been gathered for her pleasure. Earthiana brushed her fingers against the tiny blooms, thinking painfully of Aura.
Whether her family was dead or alive, she didn’t know. All she could do was hope and pray - and be filled with a throbbing fear that threatened to paralyze her.
Earthiana stirred. She could feel the darkness that still flooded the room. It wasn’t morning yet; she realized that she was slumped against the side of her bed, that someone was sitting upon it, with one hand resting on her hair.
Blinking, Eya raised her head, praying that sleep had brought nightmares and that it was her mother who was there with her.
A strange light was enwrapping her bed in a pool of shimmering azure. A woman was there, not Saturnia; she was veiled in a cloak of midnight blue that was dotted by diamond stars.
How had she entered? Eya must have been deeply exhausted not to have heard her.
“Who are you?” she managed to whisper. “You’re not one of the sisters.”
The blue light certainly wasn’t coming from the dual moons orbiting Solaria, either.
The visitor responded by sliding back the hood of her cloak.
“Know me, my little one.”
Earthiana did know her. It was the woman she remembered from the cradle in the Temple, the woman she had never seen again.
“Mitená?”
The Lady smiled; extending her hand, she had Earthiana touch the velvety folds of her cloak. A warmth that brought back a rush of memories, memories of the ghosts of emotions, swept over the princess. The Lady lifted Earthiana to her feet.
“Follow me.”
They walked through the abbey corridors until a curtained doorway parted and the night air greeted them with a kiss. The sky shone above as if on fire, a net of beautiful sparkling stars hung with the twin crescents of Caseyta and Saturnia, the Queen’s namesake.
Earthiana was led under the boughs of the towering Meulain trees; their path turned uphill through the woodland. The moonlight scattered shivering, fractured shadows across the moss and leaves. The bushes broke before them and the path wound over a little bridge, spanning a dark pool. Eya halted.
The bridge was crumbling into the water, and the growth all around was tangled as though no one had passed that way in many years. Come to think of it, she wasn’t certain these woods were anywhere near the abbey.
What filled her heart with chills were the roses that lay creeping in the water, burgundy petals gilded by the moons that weren’t reflected in the pool.
Mitená squeezed the girl’s hand. “This is an ancient pool. There’s something in the waters which you should see.”
Eya could never forget those legends; no one ever did, no matter the Faith. Instinct said to run, and her eyes couldn’t leave the roses that murmured so threateningly in the night.
“Eya. . . look in the water.”
A light glimmered now beneath the surface, certainly not the reflection of the moons, and revealed a statue that lay in the silt.
“They threw my image there a long time ago, little one. With their pride, their hatred and jealousy, their will to destroy what God has made, they broke their souls and called down this ancient curse, one that was woven into themselves, one I wish they never had to suffer. The roses can’t hurt you if you’re with me. Come now, we have a ways to go yet.”
Eya followed, eyes never leaving the blossoms until she could no longer see them over her shoulder. Even then, she could hear the slithering vines and knew they would color her nightmares.
The pair were coming out of the woods now, standing upon a high hill, from which they could only distantly see the Royal City.
White ruins, silvered in the night’s light, graced the hilltop. Whispers ran through the grass, whispers which the princess could have sworn carried words within them, if only the air were thinner.
A pavilion crowned the flat before them, the roof of richly carved latticework revealing, rather than blocking out, the stars.
It had been an Elven hall at one time; or was it still? Earthiana took in the sight hungrily. She had dreamed of elves ever since she had first heard the tales, magnified by the supposition that her healing power came from them. She wished, if there were Elves there, that they would part the barrier and show themselves; but then, they weren’t much compared to her present companion.
There was only one figure there who awaited them, arising from the shadows; he was no Elf, but a warrior prince like she’d never seen. His great silvered wings ruffled in the breeze as he looked down on her, but his eyes, gray as moonlight, were gentle. Somehow, it was as if that face had always been somewhere in her vision.
“This is Myn’, the angel whom I’ve given to you since your birth,” the Lady declared.
She then guided Earthiana’s eyes to a star cluster that shone directly above them, long said to be the Heart of Ra-Zë.
The pavilion roof was parted crosswise in design, from northeast to southwest; Myn’ unsheathed his gilded sword and raised it to the sky. It set against its celestial match, for within the free patch of sky glimmered a bright trail of stars streaming from the heart, down to the horizon, where it ended in the brightest star in the trail: Denea, known as Denebola by Vestar’s starcharts.
“Behold the Sword of Myn’,” the Lady murmured. “The angel who is ever at my defense, and at yours, Eya. It is this you must follow. There will your heart find what you are searching for, from the highest skies to the deepest. Follow, and leave the Three not, as many have.”
“Mitei-tei, are you going to leave me?” Eya tightened her grasp on Mitená’s hand.
“No, my little one. I will always be with you, as will our Father, my Son, and my Spouse. The God Who made you will never abandon you, even if you think yourself to be the least of all. We will be with you. Eos-fylakas-inä, mæla.”
She stooped and kissed Eya’s brow as she had once, long ago, and everything faded.
To read previous chapters, listen to soundtracks, and read any related articles, please visit the directory for The Sword of Myn’:
To reference the lore of Solaria, please read the Planet Profile, here:
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Lovely work. The part with Mitena reminded me of George MacDonald's book The Princess and the Goblin, when Irene is with her great-great-grandmother.