Isea

This is a storey about a land far, far away and a long time ago. Isea is a land of Ice, and faeries. A land of forgotten childhood dreams. This is a story about a Princess and a prince. A humble Sheppard and enchanted wells. A story about animals under enchantment and the enchanters themselves. A sometimes scary story about goblins and changelings, and trolls under bridges.

This is a Faerie tale.

Celestine

Celestine tossed her deep black hair over her shoulder, and then raised her head to the icy wind. Her cruelly beautiful land. Isea. The branches overhead crackled with snow and ice. It was perfect weather for looking for snow blooms, but that was the last thing on Celestine's mind. Wild trees are special. Her father had once told her. Look hard enough and you'll find a faerie. Tell it your wish, and it'll come true. Her mother didn't believe in faeries. She bent, searching the undergrowth for the small blue sparks that are supposed to accompany faeries.

"Princess Celestine! Princess, come!"

Celestine sighed. That was Balen. A royal guard. She hadn't found a faerie in time.

She closed her eyes. "Please, please all I want for my sixteenth birthday is a friend. A real friend."

"My lady!"

Celestine sighed again. "Coming Balen."

Grabbing the long white skirt of her dress, she ran out of the forest.

"Where have you been! I've had half the Royal Guard out looking for you!" Celestine's Mother, Queen Leda, was scolding her. "I wish you would stop disappearing, especially on such occasions!" Celestine found herself sighing for the fourth time that day.

"I'm sorry mother. Truly." disappearing? I was in the woods. I go there often!

"Allright. Just make sure it doesn't happen again. And for heaven sake's, go change your dress! It's the first day of Yule tide, and your birthday celebration!"

Celestine dropped a curtsy then dashed out of the room, up a long flight of stairs, and into her tower room. Blytha, her maid was sitting in a chair mending a sleeve.

"Merry Yule, my lady."

"And you, Blytha." Celestine responded, throwing open her closet. She selected a pale blue one, with long draping sleeves and a crisscrossing silver belt. Stepping behind the screen, she donned it.

"Blytha, will you do up my buttons?"

Blytha obligingly put down her mending, and took up a button hook.

"There. All pretty, my lady."

"Thank you, Blytha!"

Flying back down the staircase, she ran though several rooms, to another, grander, staircase. She paused at the top, waiting for her queue.

"Presenting, the Princess Celestine!"

Celestine came delicately down the stairs, one hand lightly on the railing. Blue fire whisked across the stair below her. Faeries! She froze, but a glare from her mother made her take another step.

One friend. One friend. One, real, friend.

Tristan

Tristan watched as the princess Celestine slowly descended the stairs. His parents had been talking about this for years. His chance to make a good impression. His family was only lords, but there was a chance that he could be king. If he could win the princesses heart.

She was lovely to behold. Skin as pale as the ice land she lived in, her dark black hair extenuated this. She was thin and lithe, a dancers body.

As her foot hit the last stair, Tristan stepped forward and took her and, leading her to her seat next to him at the banqueting table.

(This is it so far! I'll get more up later.)

As the first course was served, Tristan wracked him brain for a conversation starter.

"So- what kind of books do you like to read?" he ventured.

"Well, I like to read old accounts of travelers. There's a lot of account of faerie sighting and trolls and things like that."

Tristan nodded. "My uncle always told me a story about the time he saw a faerie. It was my favourite story as a kid. Have you read the saga of the burnt Njal?"

"No, I've been looking for a copy of the manuscript. I can find any."

"There's one in our library. You can borrow it if you come to our castle."

The plates were taken away and a soup was served.

Tristan cleared his throat

'Your father, he was King Aleyn the Adventurer? "

"Yes."

"I am sorry for your loss."

Celestine ran her hand over the embroidered tablecloth. "Sometimes I dream about him. Every time the dream ends with a dragon carrying him off."

"Praps it's the faeries" he said, in jest.

But Celestine eye were deadly serious. "Maybe."

Six months later

Celestine was crouching behind a rock again. The herder had been coming to her part of the forest for two months now. She was still working up the nerve to speak to him. She had been coming here even more than usual lately. Troubles at home and her mother kept extolling the virtues of lord Tristan. Why not say I have to marry him and get it over with!

A snowball hit her in the side of the head. She shrieked and leapt to her feet. The shepherd boy was laughing so hard he couldn't stand up and sat down in the snow. "Sorry!" he gasped, wiping his eyes. "You looked so miserable and I couldn't help my self-" he dissolved into laughter again.

Celestine scooped up a handful of snow and hurled it at him. The boy coughed as it hit his face, and Celestine found herself laughing along with him.

"M'names Dinadan. What's yours?"

Celestine paused. She didn't want him to know she was a princess. She wanted him to like her. "My names Celeste"

"Celeste?" for a moment she thought she had chosen a name to close to her real one, but then he said "nice name. Like a starry night."

Celestine flushed under his complement.

"Do you believe in faeries?" he inquired. "Cos I think I see them sometimes."

She nodded. "My father said that I was blessed by faeries. But then he would always say I was in danger from goblins. I believe in both."

"Smart girl."

Celestine smiled and her heart beat faster.