Shadow Moir: The Elven Kingdom

Chapter Six: The Queen of Oakshaw

Myra could see the kingdom ahead of her. It was a large castle a beautiful castle surrounded by large stone walls. For some odd reason, she was nervous, for she kept fidgeting with her hands. She looked up at the kingdom as they drew closer and closer. The sunlight seemed to dance on the stone of the castle as if it were full of life itself. She could see a few vines that had crawled its way up the walls and held beautiful yellow flowers giving the castle a certain charm. She looked down at the path in front of them. It was a clear marking of where wagons, horses, and travels used for the green grass was worn there. 

"You seemed troubled."Vexen stated.

"I just don't understand all of this. It is all very confusion." Myra said absently. Deep down she felt horrible for leaving her father behind. She needed his strength now more than ever. 

"The queen will explain it all to you. There is nothing to fear." Amora assured her. 

Myra just nodded, her heart still weighing heavily with the thought of her father. Oroin and Finor met them at the gate with a woman Myra had not yet met. She was a short elf with pale almost grey skin and pure white hair. Her eyes were a deep violet but had a strange cloud like film over them. Myra watched as Vexen and Amora bowed in obedience to her. Myra stepped back unsure of what it was she was supposed to do. 

"Myra, this is the queen of Oakshaw, Anethe." Vexen gestured towards the short female.

Myra did a small curtsy respectfully. "It is a pleasure to meet you." She looked back up at Anethe, who smiled at her warmly.

"Your light reminds me of your mother." she said sweetly. 

  "You knew my mother?" Myras jaw slightly hung open at the thought.

"Yes, I did. We were remarkably close. Her and I are twins in fact. However, we were vastly different. I dare say those are stories for another time. I need your assistance." Aneth said with seriousness. 

I nodded. "I will help in any way that I can."

Aeneth stretched out her hand. "Walk with me."

She could see the tension on Vexens face as she gently touched Aeneths hand and walked next to her. She followed Anethes pace as they made their way into the kingdom. It was beautiful pearl colored marble. The townspeople stared at Myra as she passed by, yet she could not understand why.

"It is your hair." Aeneth stated.

"My hair?' Myra said perplexed.

"Yes. We elves do not have such color hair. That is saved for the leaves of the trees. Our bloodline consists of fair light hair, but red, well that is truly unusual for us, which is why it is a sacred color when it presents itself on to a person." Aeneth looked at her. "Just as you are sacred to us." She stated with a smile.

The rest of the walk was silent as they weaved in and out of corridors. Though Aeneths comment lingered in her mind. They walked through two large wooden doors that held curtains and cots. Myra took it to be some type of infirmary. They walked up to the bed of a familiar face. It was Tirnel, breathing shallow and his face pale. She left Aeneths side and rushed Tirnels. 

"What happened to him?" She said panicked. It was not the feeling she felt every time around him. The feeling of fate, of red string pulling them together that filled her voice with concern. 

"He went to apprehend your kidnapper but was shot with a poisonous arrow into the chest. Our healers have been able to keep him alive, but have been unsuccessful in destroying all of the toxins in his system."

"What do you want me to do?" She stared at Aeneth helplessly.

"I want you to heal him. You have the ability too, so there for you can find the will to." Aeneth started putting her hands together in front of her.