Chapter 2

Watergard

The Forsaken River flowed steadily beneath the balcony of the old city merchant’s house. It weaved its way through the Free City of Watergard like a street, flowing this way and that, encompassing the buildings—the markets, the houses, the estates, the towers—and the people within them. It was indeed the main street of Watergard, flowing elegantly downward towards the Akiyril Ocean with the far Western Continent beyond. Its waters were smooth, chilling (icy in the northern winter) and delicately babbling, soothing to listen, and even more soothing to bath in. Watergard was a city built around and on the water with few standstill streets and countless bridges.

The horizon was crimson with the setting sun and the invisible Akiyril Ocean resting beneath it. Watergard’s dark stone towers were silhouetted against it and the rising rooftops of estates, businesses, and houses were below them against the darkening sky. Small vessels floated along the river beneath the balcony, men shouted their commands and prices across the streets, and children played carelessly and happily. The city was business at this late evening hour with candles burning brightly in countless windows and among the streets as the sun slowly disappeared as if being swallowed alive by the distant depths of the mighty ocean, which the Forsaken River flowed into like water into a jug.

Clairibel Valdras walked out onto the old city merchant’s balcony and leaned against the heavy, dark stone railing allowing the noises, smells, and sights of the Free City wash over her. This was her home; she’d been here as long as she could remember yet she longed to see kingdoms and realms beyond her imagining. She’d spent numerous—countless—hours imagining what the realms in the south looked like, of what wonders the Dyzonian islands held, but most importantly about what godly creations and sights were beyond the great Akiyril Ocean on the Western Continent with the fabulous nations of Vikear and Rar’Viine with their knights, warriors, towering domes and palaces, of their mighty rivers and grand armies. She’d seen nothing more than Watergard and Taimlin in her twenty-two years and mostly when she was but a child and could remember very little. Her memories of those northern cities were vague and blurry and though she wished to recreate them, sharpen them, she knew it would be in much time.

But most importantly, something beckoned her across the ocean to that fabled Western Continent. Though she had long dreamed of seeing it for herself, something called to her; something drew her towards it yet she was trapped within the boundaries of the Free City and the realm around it. She could go no further for her family was here but she dreamt that she could go further, had gone further, but it had all been ripped away as soon as sleep was over. Something awaited her across the Akiyril Ocean and though she wouldn’t know what it was exactly until she laid eyes on it, she knew that it waited, patiently for her, and she would one day acquire it.

But she was simply a commoner destined for nothing more than a commoner’s life.

It surely was a dream crusher and it hurt her more inside than wound she’d every received.

Clairibel sighed and swung shoulder-length orange hair, lightly streaked with blonde, out of her face, allowing her light, captivating blue eyes to wash over the Free City of Watergard around and beneath her. Resting her chin in the palm of her hand, her mind wandered off once more. She knew she didn’t belong here. Her fair, white skin, dotted with freckles, was strange among a city of darker skinned people. She burned in the sun after long exposure due to her orange hair and pale skin and she knew she didn’t belong; this wasn’t her city; this wasn’t her land; she belonged across the ocean on the Western Continent.

It called to her.

She knew she didn’t belong here but she was powerless to leave. She had never known her true parents. They had died earlier in her life (or so she had been told) and that’s why she had come to live with her aunt and uncle, who owned the house that she was currently residing in. Her uncle was an aged Watergard merchant of gemstones, wools, spices, jewelry, fine breeding horses, and steel. He had made a good living of his life but he was still just a commoner and thus both Clairibel and her brother were mere commoners as well.

Having never known her parents, Clairibel had been raised by her aunt and uncle and had come to love them as if they were her blood parents. Her older brother thought just as highly of them, perhaps even more than Clairibel thought. The only keepsake she had of her parents was a necklace that she swore would never leave her neck. It was a pendent of a solid black snow-wolf with fiery eyes on a solid dark blue background. Her older brother’s was identical except the background of his was snowy white. She didn’t know what either of them meant and none had ever explained the meaning to her but she knew it was something that linked her to something strange, yet powerful, beyond her uncle’s house, far outside Watergard.

“Clairibel,” a familiar voice called to her but in her dream state it was distant, dull, unknown to her. She awoke with a start and turned on steady legs. Her older brother, Owain Valdras, stood in the balcony doorway with his arms crossed, a disapproving frown across his face. At the age of twenty-four, Owain was more like their uncle, the old city merchant and owner of the house they lived, than any of their cousins ever would be. He had already taken up much of the older man’s trade with a skill that their uncle called unnaturally miraculous and haunting. “Were you daydreaming again?”

Clairibel laughed and nodded tiredly. “Yes, I was brother.”

Sighing, he started across the threshold of the open balcony and soon stopped beside her, also leaning against the rail and looking out over the Free City of Watergard, a city that Owain Valdras was deathly proud of. The man was proud to live there, to be a part of the community, but most importantly, he was proud of the Free City for having its own government in what he called, “a world of power-seeking, governing realms worthy of no land.” He was indeed a patriot to his city, his family, his friends, and the land that he believed belonged to Watergard.

He gave her that big-brotherly glance that she hated so much. He was only two years older than her but where she was short, he was much taller, towering over her, where she was fair-skinned and pale, he was darker, stronger, work-worn, where her hair was orange, his was dark brown and almost as long as hers, pulled back now in a ponytail behind his head to keep his neck cool, and where her eyes were beautifully blue, his were dark green—a deep jade that were frightening, yet powerful, strong-willed, and worthy to stare down any knight that roamed the land that she so passionately dreamed of.

“You have to quit daydreaming dear sister,” Owain told her softly, shaking his head. “It’s not good for you. Before you know it, you’ll be ignoring everyone, not doing anything around here, and then you’ll be lost forever in those daydreams you create. You’ll be lost to the world.”

She laughed lightly. “I won’t be lost to the world, Owain. My daydreaming is of the world we live in.” She tilted her head to one side and smiled, allowing her eyes to wash over the city standing quietly before her. But her eyes were really seeking the faraway land that she had never seen but longed to visit. “How can I be lost in something that we already know?”

An unnatural breeze picked up and washed over them. Clairibel shivered and pulled her dark woolen shawl closer around her. Watergard was fairly far north near The Frozen Plains and even though winter was upon them yet, the weather was still chilly and the wind biting. It grabbed Owain’s hair and pulled it up, rippling his back green tunic as well. His open collar flapped in the wind from where he had been working in the storage room earlier helping their uncle and cousins with supplies.

“That’s exactly what I mean, Clairibel,” Owain Valdras replied, sighing again and wiping a hand over his sweat-covered face, which certainly froze in the growing wind. “You can get lost in your daydreams and that can harm you. You needn’t be thinking about them. We don’t want to lose you to them.” He noticed her doubtful gaze. “Clairibel, you don’t daydream of our world! You daydream of a distant land that you will never see! Your daydreams are of a land we don’t know and never will know! You are merely a commoner’s niece, nothing more!”

“But I can strive for more!” She protested angrily.

He nodded. “Yes, you can, but it’s hard. We’ll never have much more than this, Clairibel, I’m sorry to tell you that. Uncle Harlin doesn’t have much but it’s all he can afford to get. He’s done well for himself and that’s as far as we’ll ever go. I’m sorry.”

“Commoners can live in those faraway lands too, Owain!”

“Yes, they can,” her older brother agreed, shaking his head, “but they were born there. You have to face the facts, Clairibel. Your daydreams are of lands we don’t know and will never see! Watergard is our home and that’s how it’s always going to be. We can’t change that.”

“I will,” Clairibel Valdras argued.

“Very well. And I wish you luck with it but I’m sorry to say that you won’t go far.” His voice was deep, strong, commanding, not a voice meant for a commoner but rather for a soldier, a leader.

Clairibel sighed. “Ambassador Auron knows those lands. He told me about them before he left and I promised him that I’d see them one day for myself. He wished me luck too but he told me that I’d go far. He didn’t tell me that I wouldn’t do anything. He didn’t crush my dreams!”

“You know I don’t want to crush your dreams, sister,” Owain told her sympathetically. “You know I love you with all my heart and the last thing I’d want to do would be to hurt you but I’m simply telling you the truth. These dreams of yours will forever remain dreams. I’m sorry.” He laughed and waved it away, as if that would calm her anger any. “Ambassador Auron was a fool. You can’t seriously be taking his advice, can you?”

Clairibel shrugged. “It’s better advice than most. It’s better than I get from anyone else.”

“But Ambassador Auron was an old fool,” Owain told her. “He doesn’t know of those lands he spoke of. He knows Watergard and Trader’s Gate, perhaps Taimlin but nothing more. I’m glad he left and returned home. His visit here was pointless. Uncle Harlin’s trades aren’t important to an ambassador. I just think that foolish old man wished to devour uncle’s food and wine, nothing more. He simply tried to take advantage of uncle but Harlin’s no fool. I’m glad he left and returned home.”

“How can you say that, Owain?” Clairibel asked amazingly. “Having Ambassador Auron in the house was an honor for us as well as uncle. It’s rare to see a stranger of high status in Watergard and it’s an even bigger honor to have them stay in your home, especially for a fortnight!” This still amazed her. Ambassador Auron had stayed with them for a fortnight, asking the entire household questions about their lives, bizarre questions that she couldn’t begin to understand the meaning of. “But the ambassador does know of the lands that I daydream about! He told me all about them!” Her brother looked uninterested, doubtful. “Owain, he was a Vikearian Ambassador! He knows Vikear and the world better than anyone! And he told me that I was going to see Vikear one day, no matter what!”

He brother nodded. “The old man was crazy, Clairibel.”

She said nothing. She simply crossed her arms and glared at him, a glare worthy of any queen, and twice as worthy to make the boldest knight shrink away in terror. Owain Valdras merely smiled at his sister and pulled her into a hug.

“You know your glare doesn’t work on me Clairibel,” Owain laughed merrily. “But I’ve seen some of Watergard’s Guards sink away and run from it. You have a look like a dagger my dear little sister. It’s haunting.”

She laughed, but she was still angry with him. “I have my dreams, Owain,” she said into his chest as she hugged him back, “and you can have yours. But I have mine and I swear to you that they will become something more one day.”

“Very well, sister,” he told her, pulling away from her and smiling. “You may have your dreams and I wish you the best. I love you and I just want to protect you. I don’t want to see you have your heart broken because of this. That’s why I “crush” your dreams as you so elegantly put it.” He laughed and leaned against the railing again.

She sighed and shook her head, still angry with him but calming herself down a bit. “That’s not why you’re here, Owain, I know it. You didn’t just come here to insult me. That’s not like you.” She gave him a questioning, sidelong glance. “Why are you here, brother?”

“I was helping Uncle Harlin and our cousins with the basement storage room and he mentioned the Watergard Ball,” Owain started. “You know it’s in two weeks, right?” She nodded. She’d heard a couple things about the ball from years passed but she’d never gone. She’d considered it a major waste of time and something she didn’t fit into to. She loved dressing up but she just didn’t have anyone to go with and no other reason to go.

“What about it?” She asked curiously.

“Well, you’re going, aren’t you?”

Clairibel shrugged. “I might.” She knew Owain had already gone a couple years and loved it. “Why?”

Her older brother shrugged and shook his head. “No reason. Uncle Harlin just wanted to know because he found a couple nice dresses in the cellar and Aunt Marie thought they’d fit you well. She wanted to see how you looked in them.”

“That’s it?” She wasn’t convinced.

Owain was silent for a minute or two. “Well, not exactly. Both Uncle Harlin and Aunt Marie think it’s time you start looking for a husband. They say you’ve gone too long already and should have started years ago. They think it’ll be a good time for you to start looking. Besides, there are plenty of wealthy men at balls looking for pretty young wives. You’ll fit in well.”

Clairibel’s face not only flushed beet-red from the slightly cool heat but from anger also. “I can’t believe this! I will not go to be looked over by men who wish to own me! I will not be picked out like fruits from the market! I will start looking for a husband when I’m good and ready and no one’s going to change that!” She crossed her arms and glared at him furiously again. “I will not fit in because I will not be picked out like someone’s property! I want to fall in love with someone before wedding them!”

“I know you do, sister,” Owain Valdras replied, “but true love is hard to find. It is something only in stories. In life, you can never have that unless you learn to love the person you wed. Besides, sister, you’re only a commoner and no important man will want you. You will simply have to settle with another commoner unless you act out against it. That’s why we think you should come to the ball and meet a wealthy, important man to wed.”

“I will do no such thing, Owain! And you should be ashamed that you’re speaking this way! I will not wed a man because he is wealthy!”

“Your mistake, sister.”

She was furious with the man who shared her name and blood. “Get out of my room now, Owain! You should be ashamed of yourself!”

He slowly backed away from the rail. “Very well. Uncle Harlin has some more work for me in the cellar anyway. Good day, sister. Just think about what I said.” He was across the threshold on long legs and out her door before she could yell out against him again. The man moved quickly with well-muscled legs moving hard without so much as turning to give her a final look.

She wasn’t only furious with him but she was also mad at her aunt and uncle. Not only was she mad but upset and disappointed as well to think that they thought this way. She was trying to calm her anger when Aunt Marie walked through the door and smiled at her. The woman was short (though still taller than Clairibel) with dark gray eyes, graying waist-length hair, and soft features.

She moved slowly, the smile never leaving her face as she approached her niece. Aunt Marie stopped short and laid her hands on her hips, as she did when trying to gather information from her own children or even her husband. It was an intimidating stance that made Uncle Harlin stop cold and break out in sweat with the hidden knowledge of something he had previously done.

She stayed silent for a second, eyeing Clairibel with an astounded, almost doubtful face. “What has happened now, niece? Has Owain been troubling you or have you been troubling him?” Her mocking smile, which didn’t belong with the older woman’s motherly voice, silently laughed at the younger woman with a learned knowledge; knowledge developed and improved over the years.

Clairibel sighed heavily, calming her anger down further. “He’s unbelievable, Aunt Marie. I don’t believe it!” She paused and saw the unchanged expression across her aunt’s face. “And I can’t believe you and Uncle Harlin think the same thing as well! You’re all unbelievable!”

Her aunt took a bewildered step forward. “What are you talking about, niece?”

“I’m talking about how you all believe I should go to the Watergard Ball and meet a wealthy man to wed,” Clairibel argued. “Owain claims you all believe this. Is it true? Do you all want me to wed a wealthy merchant who I nothing about?” She paused and lowered her eyes. “Whom I care nothing about?”

Aunt Marie smiled and crossed the room to Clairibel. “Yes, that’s what we want, Clairibel, but you must understand why. Your uncle and I won’t be around forever. We’re getting older and Owain won’t be able to take care of you either. He has his own life to live as you do yours. You are at the perfect age to wed and we just want you to be with someone that can take care of you. We don’t want to see you harmed. We want to make sure you’re well taken care of.”

“But I don’t want to marry a man who I care nothing about. I don’t want to marry a merchant who thinks of me as property. I don’t want to marry away like your property either. I will marry when I am good and ready.”

Aunt Marie moved closer and pulled her niece into her arms. “But Clairibel, we just want what’s…”

“…Best for me, I know,” Clairibel Valdras finished, with fresh tears swelling up in her eyes. Now her beautiful blue eyes truly looked like two marvelous oceans that dwarfed even the grand Akiyril Ocean itself. “I want to marry for love. Will I never meet anyone who makes my heart flutter? Will I never meet anyone who makes me smile? Will I never meet anyone who I truly care for and who truly cares for me?” Tears spilled out of her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. “Will I be trapped in Watergard for the rest of my life?”

Her aunt wiped tears from her cheeks and kissed her niece on the cheek. “Clairibel, I hope you’re not stuck here forever. And I know you will find someone who you care for.” Aunt Marie took hold of Clairibel’s necklace, the one of the black snow-wolf on the solid blue background, and lifted it in her hand, examining it. “You are destined to see greater places, Clairibel. With this necklace you are destined for far greater things than you could ever imagine.”

Clairibel tilted her head and felt the confusion wash over her. “What do you…”

“Quiet, niece,” Aunt Marie told her, putting a finger to her lips. “It is not the time for you to question such things. In time you shall learn what I mean. For now, you must decide what you will do with your life. If you truly wish to fall in love and find the right man, then you have no argument from either your uncle or me.”

A smile crossed Clairibel’s lips and her tears slightly receded. “Do you mean that?” Her aunt nodded, smiling. “Thank you, Aunt Marie. I promise I won’t let you down. I promise you I will find the right man to wed and leave this city to see lands across the Akiyril Ocean.”

Her aunt sighed and nodded, releasing the necklace. “Keep yourself and that necklace safe and I promise you, niece, that you will see these lands of which you daydream. I know you will find the right man to wed.” Aunt Marie took her niece’s chin in her hand and lifted the younger woman’s head; the tears on Clairibel’s cheeks were still shiny and many. “You are much more important than you think niece. You shall learn all this in time.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Nor should you, niece,” Aunt Marie told her firmly, yet lovingly. “Think nothing more about what I said. Just remember that in time you shall learn the truth and everything shall become clear. Until then, keep yourself safe and don’t lose this necklace.”

“What about the Watergard Ball?” Clairibel asked, wonderingly.

The older woman laughed and waved it aside. “Dress well, Clairibel, and attend the ball with your brother. Consider it a nice evening out on the town. There is no reason you shouldn’t miss it. Everyone will be there and you never know, you might just meet this mysterious man of yours. All right?”

Clairibel nodded. “All right.”

Aunt Marie kissed Clairibel on the cheek once more and stepped away from her niece. She left the room behind her and closed the door, leaving Clairibel alone in her bedchamber. The young woman’s smile grew as she wiped more tears from her eyes though she was still puzzled at what her aunt had told her.

Taking her aunt’s advice, Clairibel pushed the older woman’s words aside and walked back out to the balcony, pulling her shawl closer around her as she let her eyes once again study the business of the late evening below with no worries in the world. Though she was still anger at her brother for trying to crush her dreams, she was also glad that she could look for true love without anyone pressuring her into marriage to a man who she cared nothing about and who cared nothing about her.

Despite her brother’s words, she once again lost herself in a daydream of the lands beyond the Akiyril Ocean. Having Ambassador Auron within their house recently, his stories of the Vikearian realm entered her mind and she lost herself in a northern, snow-covered land that she had never laid her mysteriously beautiful blue eyes on before.

Marie found her husband standing before a washstand in their bedchamber, with his attention focused on the looking glass before him; the razor in his right hand carefully trimmed the enormous black beard hiding half his face. He took care of stray hairs and trimmed it close to be rid of its bushiness.

As Marie closed the door, Harlin turned with the razor against his cheek and smiled. “Good evening Marie.” He put the razor on the washstand and dried his face with a towel. He walked over to her and kissed her. “Owain and the boys are in the cellar but they should be finished any minute now.” He noticed the expression across her face and leaned down until he was level with her eyes. He was a taller man with dark skin and hard, dark eyes. His gaze was strong, unyielding, yet soft. “Did you speak with Clairibel?”

She nodded. “I didn’t mention anything important to her, just what we discussed.”

Harlin smiled, buttoning his black leather tunic. “She doesn’t need to know anything yet. But I spoke with Ambassador Auron before he left and he did inform me that the king did indeed send him. It is time Owain and Clairibel go home and take what is rightfully there’s.”

Marie walked to the window shaking her head. “Owain won’t believe it. He believes he is a merchant like you, Harlin, and I don’t think he will accept anything else. He loves what he does. He won’t be easily persuaded; he won’t believe the truth once it’s set before him.”

“Granted, Owain won’t believe it,” Harlin agreed, shaking his head as he finished buttoning his tunic, concealing his entire neck and broad chest. “But what about Clairibel? Will she believe it?” Marie turned to face her husband with a doubtful glance, but said nothing. “Better yet, will she accept it?” Again, Marie was silent but Harlin knew what needed to be asked. “And if she does, will she be willing to leave Watergard behind her forever?”

Marie did the last thing she expected she would; she did the last thing her husband expected her to do: she laughed loudly and clasped her hands together before her merrily. Harlin recoiled but she saw a small smile curve across his lips. “Harlin, she might not believe it but I think she’ll quickly learn to understand. She will be the first to jump at the opportunity to leave Watergard behind. She’ll gladly learn to go across the Akiyril Ocean.”

“Then she’ll accept what is put before her?”

Marie Valdras nodded. “I think she will…in time. We’ve done all we can do for her. It is her choice now, not ours, Harlin, you know that.” She paused and met her husband’s gaze. “Harlin, did Ambassador Auron say anything about her departure?”

Her husband sighed heavily, thinking it over. “He did mention that the king will be sending a very special person to escort Clairibel home. He said it would be a hired hand to not give away her true identity. She must be protected until they return to Vikear and Auron reassured me that the man being sent would do all in his power to protect her and return her home safety. He didn’t know who the king would send but he knew it would be soon.”

“Don’t look so worried, Harlin. We have done all we can for her. It is time for her to take on her life as it was meant to be. It can’t be denied to her any longer.”

“Very well. Then it appears as if our future rests in Clairibel’s hands.” But Harlin Valdras still looked concerned.

“So it would seem.” Marie turned and let her gaze flow out the window before her, traveling westward towards the great Akiyril Ocean beyond the waters of the Forsaken River, far beyond Watergard, and something distant to the eastern lands. She knew that Clairibel would be leaving them soon and it would be their duty to keep her alive until her escort arrived. How her niece would take the news was beyond her but she knew it would be a better world once Clairibel took what was rightfully hers.