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Myriando ~ mahy-ree-an-doh
Nertiva ~ neer-tee-va
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THERE were no truer words. After Karyn had settled in bed with her head resting on the soft thighs of the lady, and not long into the funny and intriguing tale of two paupers and a tax collector, Karyn had fallen fast asleep. The tune struck her as familiar but she couldn't place a finger on where she had heard it and even though she wanted to know how the tax collector would catch the paupers who wanted to rip him off using his assistant, she couldn't help the lull that pulled her under.

For the first time in many nights, there were no moons or stars. No hoods or inky nights. It was just as it was. A sleep.

Her mind hadn't tortured her with the sight of Jamie rushing out with Marcela in his arms, drenched in red. The sight had made her stomach churn even as she had stared at the lady in the garden and her white rose.

The whole incident was like a puzzle, with a huge centerpiece missing. One moment she was huffing and puffing and the next Marcela had transformed and the training facility had become a battleground. All she could remember was the thirst to kill it. A thirst that ate through her, controlling every fiber of her being.

But now, not a single inch of that feeling remained. The waves of ease that Lady Minerva's hands brought had seeped beneath her skin, battled the immense guilt within and transformed overnight into a feeling of serenity that enveloped her as she stretched awake.

That feeling only lasted for two moments until her thoughts and memories came crashing down. She sighed. At least they had waited for her to breathe a little.

As her gaze drifted out the window, she marveled at the breathtaking sight before her. Beneath a muted blue sky, the expansive garden stretched out, bathed in the soft glow of various lights, casting a magical ambiance. The fountain, seemingly smaller in the distance, had lights amplifying the air of grace and elegance it emitted, much like the ambiance The Lady of The Mansion exuded.

Lady Minerva had mentioned a lot about her parents, yet one name stood out.

Terrwyn.

That was the same person Zack said the people of Wlerden called The Witch. The one who ruled with The Roveñya.

Did that mean they both had a hand in the way Wlerden had changed? Because Lady Minerva was right, how would things have changed without their involvement? But what of The Court? How had the past wielders let all this happen? Or were they so powerless without their gems? And had they known about her illness? The illness Lady Minerva said she had before her parents had vanished.

Then she wondered if this illness, the one various doctors couldn't cure, could have caused their disappearance. What were the odds they left to get her better treatment? But why would they leave and not tell anyone?

Unless they had discovered something about the illness that they couldn't share with anyone. Did they fear the people of Wlerden would judge them, thus making them hide?

But when David had narrated how his family met her parents, he hadn't mentioned she was ill. As she thought about it, she realized the only time she fell sick was because of food poisoning. She had never been ill before or after that.

She ran her hands over her face. There were so many questions, constructing one enormous puzzle, and now the event of yesterday added to the complicated web her life was.

As her eyes rested on the Lady in the distance, she realized what the one centerpiece was. Her memories. Lady Minerva had told her about her parents, but only with her memories would she know them better. And for Aunt Helen-Olwyn-to have sealed her memories away, that meant something laid within them, something she hoped was the key to the labyrinth of her life.

A low grumble from her stomach made her realize she couldn't keep staring at the garden lights and pondering through questions. If she did, she would never leave because the questions were simply endless.

She headed out of the room, counting her steps and paying as much attention to each turn and stair she took. Despite her precision, she found herself lost and had to ask a passing worker for help. She made her way to the dining room in tow with the worker and there she found Lady Minerva alone at the head of the table. With all chairs empty by the side, the light clinking of silverware became as loud as thunder, until the lady's voice broke through, clear and crisp as if she was beside Karyn.

"Karynanda! It seems you and I planned to eat later than usual today."

Karyn glanced around before her eyes met a wall clock that told her it was ten minutes past eight. Had she slept that long?

She gave a smile and settled down at Lady Minerva's right before another worker served her a meal, one she delved into with speed. Lady Minerva's light chuckle floated around her and even after the lady had finished, she waited until Karyn had done the same.

"Come, I have somewhere I want to show you," Lady Minerva said, rising to her feet with a palm outstretched. They headed out and after some turns, they arrived at a room.

Karyn couldn't keep her jaw from falling as her eyes moved from painting to painting of various sizes, colors, and frames surrounding them in an organized mess. The windows had deep blue curtains adorning them which swayed gently in the breeze, with the lights above making them shine in a cool glow. The countless amount of paintings made Karyn wonder if this was a gallery of various people's art, but they all shared a subtle current of similarity she picked up on.

The sight struck a longing in her chest. When was the last time she had relished the gentle sweep of a paintbrush against a canvas? The memory of Mr. Will's classroom seemed so distant now.

"These are so beautiful."

She wanted to reach out and feel the dried paint-something about the texture always soothed her-but she stopped herself and ran her hand across the frames instead.

"Thank you."

Karyn spun with wide eyes resting on Lady Minerva, who flashed her a pleasant smile.

"Did you... paint these?" She saw the answer in Lady Minerva's eyes, yet she still asked, "All of these?"

"My father had given me my first paintbrush and since then, I could never drop it. Though I parted with that brush a long time ago."

Suddenly, the room felt intimate. Karyn knew she didn't just stare at paintings, but she was looking at various fragments of the lady's soul and mind. The realization made her feel like an intruder. Had the lady ever allowed anyone else in this room?

She stopped at a painting of a park. The radiant blue hue of the sky was a perfect blend with the rich green of the trees. Below, the vibrant colors of children at play merged into a kaleidoscope of joy and innocence one could only find in parks. It reminded her of her very first painting. One of Elowen.

"Here," Lady Minerva said, and Karyn turned. Her eyes drifted down to the lady's outstretched hand, where she found long, slender fingers clenched around a framed square painting. The picture was upside down, but she knew who they were just from the crowns.

She took it from the woman, her fingers cradling it as if it would shatter on any impact. When she righted the picture, the sight stole her breath. Her chest raised and remained as she stared at the frozen smiles.

The man had a round nose and a sharp jawline. His face held a softness that showed hints of stoic and firmness. His hair as black as coal fell to his shoulders. Something in her wanted to tug and play with it. Almost as if she could feel the softness of it as she ran the pad of her thumb over his hair, down his cheeks, and to his lips.

Her eyes drifted sideways to find the same woman who had been in her dream. The woman she shared all her features with. The eyebrows, the nose, the eyes, even the hair. She hadn't realized she'd moved until she felt the cool wood of the bench on her rear.

The woman had the same elegant updo that Idyna had done for her, donned in a dark blue dress with trails of wine red flowing from the neckline in light strokes. Her outfit was a perfect complement to the man's regalia - a combination of black and wine with various square medals that gleamed on his right chest.

Then she couldn't take the silence anymore and started speaking.

"I want to give them justice. I want to find their murderer and..." She swallowed, a replacement for the feeling that swelled within her, which she couldn't convert into words.

"The murder happened in Emerfield and here I am..." A mirthless chuckle escaped her lips. "On the way to a new world. Far from the fire."

"The fire alone couldn't have killed them."

Karyn frowned at the picture in her hands before she raised her head to the lady, who stood beside her with stony eyes fixed on something. She followed the woman's trail of sight to a painting that was all white. No texture, no contrast, just white.

"It all started in there."

"There?" Where? There was nothing but white.

"White walls that rose to shield Wlerden's rulers. White walls that rose to hide secrets of old."

The lady's gaze shifted back to Karyn, and the tension in her eyes dissolved into the familiar gentleness she had grown accustomed to.

"There is a way to get your memories. There will be but for now, keep this with you," Lady Minerva gestured to the painting in Karyn's hands. "Until you can see them once again in your heart and mind."

As her eyes went back to the painting, she ran her hand again over it, feeling the texture of the paint change over their features. She couldn't help the wistful smile that filled her face as she said, "It seemed like a long time since I last painted."

Her last painting was an abstract project Mr. Will had given them. If she knew that would be the last time she would paint as Karyn Whyte-no titles-perhaps she would have cherished every brushstroke, every moment, and every scent of paint and paper.

"You paint too?"

She nodded.

"Oh, how wonderful! You never tried it at The White Castle."

"I picked it up at Emerfield."

Lady Minerva clapped behind her, forcing Karyn into a prompt spin to find the lady had moved and her pleasant smile had morphed into a wide grin. "Then what do you say about a painting session?"

Karyn couldn't say no, even if she wanted to.

At first, she didn't know what to paint, but it didn't take long before she got wrapped up in the feeling of the slick wood of the paintbrush beneath her fingers. A feeling she didn't realize how much she had missed until now. Time slipped away like the elusive concept it was as they continued and not once did her fingers beg for relief. It wasn't until Lady Minerva had stood stiff as a board by her side and asked a question that she realized what she had drawn.

It was a sky as black as coal, above a field full of dull green grass almost black under the night. It was an extraordinary sight, with the two large moons and dozens of golden stars, yet they did nothing to brighten the field below. She had her paintbrush dipped in red paint, about to start the familiar red lips when Lady Minerva asked, "Where have you seen this?"

"In my dream."

With her eyes on the familiar scene, she missed the look Lady Minerva cast her way. But the lady's next words made Karyn freeze in confusion.

"That's The Garden of Gloves. It's in Myriando, a region in Wlerden where the moons and stars are closest to Wlerden. That's why they seem so close and big. You've captured it so..." Lady Minerva trailed off, the emotion in her voice thick but lost on Karyn.

Her mouth turned dry, but she croaked out a question. "Wlerden?"

Another question sprang to the tip of her tongue. The eerily quiet forest. The one where she was always running from something. Was it also in Wlerden? And if so, why were her dreams there?

"Had I been there before?" she asked.

"Yes. Just before you turned three. Your mother and Olwyn went on a break along with you and Dovelyn. Olwyn had lost her father, Dovelyn's grandfather, leaving her with only her daughter."

"What of her husband, Dovelyn's father?"

"Masungo, Olwyn's husband and Dovelyn's father, had died when Dovelyn was two before you were even born. It was a tragic tale, and poor Olwyn had so much loss to deal with. She had never known her mother because her mother loved her father but didn't love the idea of him being a wielder, so she left after birthing Olwyn. It was unheard of, a mother leaving her child after birth."

"Olwyn lived a moderate life underneath her father's love and protection. She met and fell in love with Masungo and birthed Dovelyn a year later. They suffered many miscarriages before Masungo met his death two years into Dovelyn's life. Then Olwyn's father fell ill with a sickness he struggled with before it claimed his life brutally. They couldn't even make him a part of The Court. Olwyn had confided in me and your mother and it was I who had suggested you four head to Myriando. It was my hometown, you see, and I knew the peace it gave was what Olwyn needed."

"Come to think of it, it was after this trip that you and Dovelyn became inseparable. Sure, you were all but three, and she was six, but nothing could separate the both of you. Anything you did, you did together."

She mulled over the lady's words but couldn't battle the confusion the name of the garden brought upon her, so she asked, "Why is it called The Garden of Gloves? Are there like gloves in it or something?"

Lady Minerva chuckled.

"No, my dear. In Myriando, there are two types of people with differing beliefs and traditions. Along with Nertiva, where the line of Golders hail from, they're the only places in Wlerden that cling to their traditions. So, because of how different their views were in Myriando, they were bound to clash. And they did. The other regions decided not to intervene, aiming to prevent further division by siding with one set of people."

"The war turned into a sad struggle for land and rights. This Garden blossomed at the center of Myriando where both sides had met in what was the final battle. No one knows exactly how it happened, but once they stepped into the Garden, they couldn't fight. No matter what they did, they just couldn't harm each other. That was where the fog cleared, where the war ended, and where differences got settled. Right there?" Lady Minerva finished with a finger pointed at the painting.

"So why Gloves?" Lady Minerva continued, dropping her hand to clasp the other in front of her. "Because our people believed the Garden had protected them the way a glove does to a hand. It protected us from ourselves."

Karyn marveled at the lady's knowledge and as she did, a question drifted into her mind, one that had bogged her ever since David had told her how they met her parents.

"You know quite a lot about Wlerden," she stated.

The woman moved to sit on the bench beside Karyn.

"I am proud of that knowledge. For it is what reminds me of Wlerden and our glory. What do you want to know?" Lady Minerva asked, her pale gray eyes shining with the glow of her soft smile.

"Why were Avnars cast out and if my parents did good things in Wlerden, how could they have let that happen? Didn't you say my father was a king like no other? How could he have-"

"And a king like no other he was."

Coupled with her interrupting words, Lady Minerva's palm over Karyn's thigh hushed the tumble of questions. The whistling of the cool evening breeze surrounded them as it drifted past the deep blue curtains.

"Avnars."

Lady Minerva twisted gracefully to the right, and Karyn's gaze instinctively followed, leading her to a canvas some paces ahead. On it was a mesmerizing sight of one eye, with irises painted a crystal-clear ocean blue. She could see specks of gray littered within. The lashes above and below were of an almost-perfect length that enhanced the allure of the enchanting eye.

"Those gifted with the Eye of Aur, which gives them the ability to see what the normal eye can't," Lady Minerva continued. "Their visions are only of auras that become imprinted on their minds. Visions they can only reveal to the person it was meant for."

"I didn't know that last part," she voiced.

From what she could recall, they were simply people who could see futures. Jamie hadn't given her a much detailed lesson on them and glossed over the important things-or what he felt was important. She wondered if he had deliberately left out the part of them getting cast out from Wlerden and why.

"You know, Avnars are like wielders."

"How?"

"There is only a fixed amount of both that exist. For wielders, there can only be six. For avnars, there are only two hundred and fifty-one, if my memory serves correctly."

Her brows creased. "How's that possible? Don't they die?"

"Yes, they do, but the Eye of Aur can move from one person to another. The person can willingly give up the eye like wielders do. Or when they die, the eye can find someone worthy." Lady Minerva paused and then asked, "Why are you wondering about them?"

"Back at Emerfield, I had a friend. It wasn't until recent times I found out she was an Avnar."

Karyn counted her words, not wanting to go into much detail. Her heart still ached with guilt and remorse from their last meeting and she didn't want to go further and end up with tears she was still trying to bury.

"Your father didn't cast them out." Lady Minerva's words glided into the calming silence. "It was the king before him, The New King Alois. I recall word spread that the few avnars he was working with had failed him."

"So much that he cast all of them out?"

Karyn could find no reason for a king to do such and knew there was more to the story. Great! Another puzzle added to the crumbling ones in her mind.

"So it seemed, Lin Silverein."

The use of her title and the yawn Lady Minerva gave told Karyn enough. Lady Minerva's next words only confirmed her conclusion.

"It seems I have tired myself out and it would be past midnight by now. Oh, how time flies when you immerse yourself in art. I have missed it, though, and I am beyond overjoyed that you and I share this passion."

Lady Minerva stood before leaning down to place a delicate kiss on Karyn's head.

"Sleep well, Lin Silverein, that is, whenever you feel like it. You still seem to have more energy than me."

Lady Minerva smiled before she left with Karyn bidding her good night, who then recounted their conversation. It was becoming a habit.

Olwyn.

From Lady Minerva's recount, the woman seemed normal and Karyn could have believed the woman cared for her. If she had shared such a close bond with the woman's daughter, that would make the woman like a mother to her.

A wave of sadness and anger came over her as she tried and failed to imagine what it would have been like for Olwyn to treat her poorly for years under the guise of her supposed Aunt Helen.

Questions and puzzles were all that plagued her mind these days.

She left the room, hoping her mind map was accurate enough to lead her to her room this time. However, she worried a little because she was sure someone would be around to help. They always seemed to appear whenever she would miss her way.

As she walked past a room, she would have missed the sight within if she hadn't peeped through the slightly ajar door when she did. Her steps halted before she redirected them back into the room.

There, shining in a glow of black and white keys, stood a lone piano. She blinked, not sure why the sight stunned her to stillness. Was it the fact that it had been longer than she could recall when her hands last drifted upon the keys, creating sweet melodies for her ears?

Her steps came out slow and even she could barely hear them over the pounding tune that ran across her head, from ear to ear. She moved as if in a trance, frozen yet mobile until she sat down. When she raised her hands, they moved with a slight tremble and when a finger came down on a note, she couldn't stop the tear that fell.

Her fingers merged and separated from the keys as they did an elusive dance over them. The chords and notes drifted through the room and out the door as she realized what was familiar about the tune Lady Minerva sang. Aside from the words of the tale, nothing else was different compared to the melody she once thought she had formed.

She sniffed as a tune resounded in her head in perfect symphony with the chords the keys created.

When she had learned to play the piano, she didn't stop humming it until she scripted it out in chords. The tune she thought she had formed. The one that once inspired her fleeting dream to become a songwriter was the very one Lady Minerva used to tell her when she was little.

Another tear slipped down her cheek as one puzzle shifted into place. The life she knew in Emerfield where she worried about getting early to SAC meetings, college applications, and dealing with her feelings for a certain someone, whose name she refused to mention.

That life had changed permanently, never to remain the same. She'd left Emerfield in dark clouds, and the only way left for her was forward. Forward to a life she once lived, but couldn't remember. A life riddled with puzzles and questions she could spend forever figuring out.

So her eyes shed tears over what she lost in Emerfield, as imperfect as it was. And tears of fear over what lay ahead, as imperfect as that was going to be.

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*A/N*

In case you're wondering where you might have heard the name before, The New King Alois is mentioned in the story that was narrated in Chapter 13- A Realm Built with Magic.

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ITNC: Karyn decides to break free from a spell she didn't realize she had fallen under.

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~
The Sparkling Authoress,
Mis. A
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