Author’s Notes: I wrote this awhile ago…I knew where I wanted to go and everything but I never got there.  Perhaps I shall finally get on with it… lolz In the meantime, this is Chapter 1 of what I have so far.  The next chapter will be posted eventually… Review please!

the Mystic

[1]

“Risa, duck!”

Instinctively, Sunrisa Rousseau stooped and threw her hands over her head.  A moment later, a shimmering ball of violet lightning hurtled over her and crash-landed in the trees beyond.

“Sorry about that,” gasped Taea LeFay, running after the crystal ball.

Sunrisa straightened and stared at her best friend rummaging in the forest debris in disbelief.  “What are you doing, throwing around your crystal energy like it’s nothing more than a mere plaything?”

Taea picked up the ball from the assorted leaves and twigs it had landed in and wrapped her hands around it.  “It wasn’t me,” she replied, concentrating on reducing the crystal into the size of a pearl.  Once done, she pulled out a woven necklace from the knapsack looped around her waist and added, “Tristan thought it’d be funny to see me chase after it.”

“Well, it was,” came a laughing voice from behind them.

Whirling around, Sunrisa faced her cousin.  “Tristan Rousseau, are you insane?!  You know what that crystal energy is to the Mystic—and to Carnegie!  You can’t fool around with it like that,” she told him angrily, her eyes flashing.  “You know what an honor it is for a Rousseau to be able to even touch that crystal energy without being electrocuted; I can’t believe you’d take advantage of it like that!”

“Calm down Risa, it’s just a little harmless fun,” he protested, his blue eyes sparkling and his grin impetuous.

“Harmless?  Well then, next time, when you break it, you can explain to Mother why Carnegie has lost its Mystic,” Taea remarked, fastening the crystal energy to her necklace.  “Now help me put this back on.”  She handed the necklace to him and turned her back to him, tossing her long black braid over her shoulder and out of the way.

Tristan obligingly lifted his hands to secure the choker around her neck.  “You’ve got me there, Taea,” he said, shuddering.  “I’d hate to explain to Aurelia that I was the reason her daughter abandoned being the Mystic.”  He bent his head slightly and kissed the back of her neck.  “All done.”

“Thank you.”

“It is my pleasure to serve Carnegie’s most lovely Mystic,” Tristan replied with a grin in response to Taea’s laughing violet eyes.

Sunrisa watched the two, a secretive smile on her lips.  Always observant, she’d figured out long ago that her best friend considered Tristan as something more than a friend.  However, Taea had been prevented from making anything else out of it by Mai Von Ault…Tristan’s girlfriend. 

Hearing footsteps cracking twigs behind them, Sunrisa turned.  Speaking of, she thought, seeing a slender girl with long, curly hair coming their way.  The sunlight filtering through the trees overhead dappled her blue dress—it brought out the color of her eyes, of course—picturesquely.  “Greetings, Mai,” she said loudly, hoping to warn her friend.

“Hi Risa,” Mai replied, frowning slightly.  Her gaze was focused over Sunrisa’s shoulder, where Taea and Tristan stood laughing.  Tristan had found a Mystic Trumpet, a violet, trumpet-shaped flower that grew wild in these woods, and was searching for a place in Taea’s braid to position it. 

Sunrisa had to choke back a painful laugh as she followed Mai’s stare.  It was always amusing to watch the two try to flirt with each other, but it could also be extremely excruciating to see how blatantly forgetful they were of the fact that Tristan had a girlfriend.  Namely, Mai.  Who was watching with an unhappy look on her face.

“Hi Tristan,” Mai greeted her boyfriend, her arms crossed.

At his name, both Taea and Tristan turned to face her.  Tristan was still laughing at something Taea had said and Taea’s face was flushed becomingly, nearly the color of her berry-red dress.  Her expression was laughingly content, but when she caught sight of her rival, her happiness faded noticeably.  She watched in subdued silence as Tristan exclaimed, “Hey Mai,” and left her side to take Mai in his arms and kiss her lightly. 

“Mai, how have you been?” Taea asked abruptly, intentionally interrupting the couple’s greetings. 

Mai looked at her and narrowed her eyes.  “I’m fine,” she said tightly.  “Your mother sent me to find you, Taea.”  She stepped out of Tristan’s arms but took his hand in replacement.  Smoothing back a loose golden curl, she added, “She needs to talk to you.”

“Of course,” Taea muttered under her breath.

“Taea.”

Taea glanced at her best friend, seeing the underlying message in her golden eyes.  “I know, Risa, I know,” she sighed, not bothering to elucidate the unspoken communication between her and Sunrisa for Tristan and Mai’s benefit.  “I’ll see you all tonight at supper.”  She smiled and waved at Sunrisa, deliberately brushing past Tristan as she left without saying a word of farewell to either him or Mai.

Sometimes it just hurt so much that he could be so nonchalant about his relationship with her and Mai.  Taea strode along the gravel path out of the Faerie Woode, feeling every pebble underneath soft-soled slippers.  Kicking at them, she thought fiercely, Why can’t he just forget about her?  What did Mai have that Taea didn’t?  She was the Mystic, for crying out loud.  Only the most important person in all of Carnegie!

Then Taea immediately felt guilty.  Being the Mystic was an honor and a lot of responsibility, nothing to be taken lightly.  The fate and future of her beloved kingdom, Carnegie, one of the only two places in the world where magic still existed, rested in the Mystic, and to be using the title as a reason for Tristan to like her was incredibly shallow of her.

The Mystic title had been passed on through the LeFay females for generations.  Every time the eldest daughter—or the daughter with violet eyes—turned eighteen, she became the Mystic.  Her mother taught her everything she needed to know, from the day she was born to the day she received the Crescent Staff.

As the one possessing the most powerful magic in the kingdom, it was the Mystic’s responsibility to serve and protect the people of Carnegie.  With her Crescent Staff, a long silver staff topped with a crescent moon, and her crystal energy, the Mystic warded off any evil that might threaten the kingdom while promoting peace within its inhabitants.

Taea skirted around a large boulder blocking the path, sparing it a curious glance.  “I wonder what that’s doing there,” she murmured to herself.  “I’ll have to ask Mother if we can have someone remove it.”

She continued down the trail, the gravel beneath her feet turning to dirt as she made her way towards the village in the late afternoon sunlight.  She expelled a breath and pushed back escaped locks of hair off her face.  It was so bothersome to have black hair sometimes, she thought, feeling the heat her hair had absorbed from the sun.

Soon, Taea saw the village of Rae in the distance, home to the White Palace, a large castle constructed of ivory granite.  The LeFay family shared the castle with the Rousseau and Von Ault family, the three being the only nobility in the area.  Across a forest and over the Passione River was the village of Velde, where the royal family resided.  The king and queen of Carnegie ran the country, but when it came to trouble of the supernatural variety, it was the Mystic they called.

Taea smiled fondly as she thought of King Phillipe and Queen Rene.  They were the kindest rulers Carnegie could ever ask for.  Then her smile widened as she passed through the cleanly cobbled streets of Rae.

“Taea!”

“Hi,” she called, waving to the village tailor.  “How are your Helene and Jacqueline, Mr. Claude?”

“Good, very good.  And how is your mother?”

“She’s doing well.  I’m on my way to see her.”  With a final wave, Taea made her way towards the gates that led onto the estate of the White Palace.  The gates were always left open, because neither of the families felt it was appropriate to barricade the villagers from the castle.

As she climbed up the steps past the gate that led to the doors, passing two guards—mostly ceremonial and a nod to the insistence of the king—Taea debated on what she should wear for supper that night.  Aurelia, Taea, and Taea’s elder brother, Kenyon, always dined with the other two families; it was a tradition shared by generations of the three families and they all upheld it gladly.

Mai won’t be there tonight, Taea thought a little spitefully, a small smile curving her lips.  She would have left for Jelique, a neighboring village where another set of Von Aults resided, on her aunt’s invitation for a brief visit.  That meant Tristan would be free from all feminine wiles—except Taea’s.  Then she shook her head, scattering her unkind thoughts.  She must never let a little romantic interest distract her from what was important.  Namely, protecting Carnegie.

Still, it wouldn’t hurt to ask her maid to prepare her lavender silk gown for suppers.  Merely because it was her favorite dress, she assured herself, not acknowledging the fact that it was also the most flattering—the color brought out her eyes and the cut, her figure.

Taea reached the top of the steps and the guards at the door nodded to her in greeting as they pushed open the massive wooden doors for her.

“Thank you,” she told them, sweeping inside the castle and heading immediately for another flight of stairs.  Her mother would be in her magic chamber, Taea knew, the one alongside her bedchamber.  Aurelia spent most of her time within the White Palace in her magic chamber, where she practiced the white arts she had an aversion to giving up.

Taea didn’t mind, for her mother had helped her greatly as the Mystic.  Aurelia had held the position for twenty-five years and her daughter only eighteen months as of yet.  Taea needed all the help she could get and she received her mother’s advice gratefully.

After passing through endless identical-looking corridors lit by the sunlight spilling through the colorful stained-glass windows, she arrived at Aurelia’s magic chamber.  There were no doors on the second level of the White Palace, its builder having a fascination with substituting beaded curtains and sheer silks for wood.  Though the LeFays, Rousseaus, and Von Aults had replaced every bedchamber’s silk doors with heavier and less sheer velvet, they’d left the other chambers alone.

So Taea parted the strings of crystal-beaded curtain that acted as the door to Aurelia’s magic chamber and ducked inside.  Her eyes swept the room, noting the bottles of unidentified substances and loose papers scattered everywhere.  Over the fire in the fireplace, a liquid concoction (in a silver bowl Taea recognized as Aurelia’s handiwork) bubbled over into the hissing flames.  Occasionally, the fire would spit out sparks that left a silver scar on whatever it landed. Her mother sat among the chaos, at her cluttered and silver-marked work table, feather quill in hand as she scratched something out on the parchment in front of her.

“Mother?”

At the sound of her daughter’s voice, Aurelia turned quickly.  Her bright violet eyes were shining with concern, her still-beautiful face lined with worry.  “Oh Taea, I’m so glad Mai found you.  We need to talk, Carnegie may be in grave danger!”