Dawning of a Seer

Belle of the Ball

"This blue satin will bring out the colour in those beautiful eyes of your's young mistress," commented the seamstress as she pinned the hem of the skirt. "I can still remember the dress I made for your first summer banquet. You looked so bonny with all those ribbons in your little blonde curls."

"I think I'm a little old for ribbons in my hair now Patty," replied Annabella.

"Oh, you've grown up so fast young mistress. I can't believe that Autumn is almost upon us and that you'll be of age. Where has the time gone?" Patty mused. "You're mother would have been so proud of you,"

"Have you brought the silk for Myra's dress?" asked Annabella wanting to change the subject.

"Oh yes, young mistress. A wonderful pea green as you requested. As soon as I've done with this hem I'll take the measurements I need so I can make a start."

"Wouldn't it be wonderful if I was coming of age in Treggorne," mused Annabella. "Lady Sarah told me so much about it, the music, the dancers." Annabella sighed wistfully.

"Its all well and good all that finery in Treggorne but they're all fake and fancy there," commented Patty.

"Myra was born there Patty. I'm sure you would not want her to think ill of us with comments such as those."

"Oh no young mistress," replied Patty, her flushed face looked up at Annabella and then glanced over to Myra. "I meant nothing by it, just that people don't seem to care about one another there like they do here in Wyvern."

"I know exactly what you mean Patty," commented Myra trying to keep a straight face. "Everyone in Wyvern has been so kind and welcoming since I arrived. If in Treggorne I would be just another pretty face. Annabella though would be treated like the belle of the ball, a princess."

"And so she should be too," said Patty gruffly. "She is a lady after all."

Once Patty finished the alterations to Annabella's dress she quickly took Myra's measurements, etching the figures she required onto a small slate which she kept in her apron pocket. She was mindful not to comment upon the conversation again but kept a mental note of it instead as she was sure the Master should be aware of Myra's obvious influence over his daughter.

...........................................

Grot bent down and rubbed his hands over the mare's fetlock muttering under his breath. He had always had an affinity with animals. They were easy to comprehend, unlike humans. But he knew how gullible humans could be. They didn't even realise the existence of magic these days, so they were easily fooled. Standing up he arched his back as if he had accomplished a hard day's work and petted the mare's nose.

"She should be fine now, but I'll give you some ointment for it. Make sure it doesn't flare up again," he said.

"Master Grotsham you're a wonder," exclaimed the farmer. "You may be a small man but you have big talents. The horse healer said the other day that I may as well slit her throat and use her for meat. I'm glad I paid no attention. The farmer across the way was telling me you how you healed his cow."

"Oh it was nothing really," replied Grot rubbing his hands across his waistcoat.

The farmer pulled out a coin bag from his overcoat and emptied it into's Grot's still small, but now perfectly formed skin coloured hand. "It should be all there," said the farmer.

"I'm sure it is, good man," replied Grot clasping the silver and quickly placing it into his own coat pocket. "Do you know of any ponies for sale around here?"

"Old Joe on the riverbank may have one he's willing to part with. Shall I come with you? He gets a bit funny with strange folk, but he knows me so you'll be alright. What you want with a pony for yourself?"

"Feet are fine for walking, but I must travel to Wyvern," replied Grot.

"Ah, bit far to be walking there," chuckled the farmer.

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It had taken a couple of days, but finally, Blossom's mood had improved during the day at least. For the last two nights, Luna had cradled her in her arms until Blossom had fallen asleep and then slept on the moss-covered floor nearby. It reminded Luna of her sister and how much she missed her. Luna knew that summer was now coming to an end as everyone was busy preparing for final harvests, pickling and preserving anything they could to provide us with substance over the winter. That meant that autumn was almost upon them and her sister, Annabella would soon come of age. As Luna was dead to the human world, she would not be there to celebrate it with her. She wouldn't witness her change from a girl into a woman or be there as a sister should. Luna sat down upon the top tier of the knowledge tree and rested against the colourful tomes crammed upon their shelves, bathed in the rays of the late summer sun and let regret and remorse fill her soul. Silent tears filled her eyes and ran down her cheeks as she imagined Annabella dressed in a beautiful gown and dancing for the first time with a handsome young man.

Thinking back she recalled her coming of age ball and how she had hated her hair being pinned up into curls and having to wear a long flowing gown fashioned of lemon silk. How her father had bribed her with a promise of a puppy if she agreed to dance with the favoured suitor; Marcus Guille, tall and of study stature with wavy brown hair and hazel eyes. A favoured son of a Duke her father had known almost all of his life. It had been obvious for many years before that they intended them to be betrothed, but Luna had no interest in Marcus or of men for that matter and thankfully his heart was quickly stolen by that of another.

Luna knew it would be different for Annabella, for she had dreamt of coming of age and of marriage since a little girl. To her, it was her fairytale.

Luna's eyes were now tired and sore and she rubbed away the tears with her sleeve, then held out her hands out in front of her to stare at the wedding finger that should have borne a ring. She noticed the bruise that had formed just above her wrist. A memento of her training with Baine.

Closing her eyes, she could see him before her, demanding her full attention with his dark alluring eyes. She could feel his skin on hers, remember his scent as he moved her body into position, teaching her how to stand and hold a sword without losing her balance. She recalled their practice sessions as if they were dancing to a waltz, mirroring each other as she defended against his advances.

A loud noise suddenly brought her to her senses and she hazily looked around her. Looking down she could see Blossom had knocked several tomes and glass jars to the floor around her desk and was trying her best to clean up the mess.

Luna looked at the bruise on her wrist, trying to savour her daydream for a moment longer. She got up and made her way down the treads of the knowledge tree to help Blossom and began to realise for herself what her heart already knew.