Chapter 2: Part 2

Start from the beginning
                                    

"Come, get up," Ulric ordered while walking back to me.

"No! I don't even know where you are taking me. You haven't told me anything at all. I'm your prisoner, I don't know what's going on, and I have absolutely no say. And why are we in the forest when there is a perfectly good road right there?" I yelled at him. My voice had escalated during my small rant until I was slightly out of breath, and my eyes were glassy with frustrated tears.

Ulric seemed taken aback by my outburst and paused before sighing. With his backtracking, the rest of the wolves broke and circled around us like a defensive perimeter. Fenrir came closer to sit next to me. He sniffed the cut on my head and then licked it with his enormous tongue. "Ew! Oh my god, he's trying to eat me."

Ulric rolled his eyes. "He is not, he is trying to heal you as wolves do. By licking the wound. Quite a strange behavior for him." My eyes flashed to Fenrir, who didn't look particularly hungry and sat next to me, looking carefree.

Ulric knelt down in front of me and grabbed my face with surprisingly gentle hands. "It is only a small wound. Fenrir has already cleaned most of the blood. I will still clean it and bandage it so that it does not get infected. The healing balms at the palace will take care of it within days of application and take care of the scar as well."

He pulled the edge of his sleeve over his thumb and wiped away the excess blood that had built back up before grabbing a small bottle of clear liquid from his satchel. "This will sting," he stated simply before pouring some over the cut. I bit my lip in pain and squeezed my eyes shut. A drip of the liquid tracked down my face and to my mouth, where I tasted something alcoholic. Ulric once again used his sleeve to wipe away the excess and gently cleaned up the tracks that went down my checks and to my lips. Lastly, he pulled a type of bandage out of his satchel and applied it to my forehead to keep it protected. When he was finished, he looked up to the sky, thinking about something before saying, "It is past noon. We can take a break here for a moment."

I was too wrapped up in his surprisingly caring nature and too shocked to speak, but as he took a seat a few feet away from me propped up against a tree, I felt my words come back to me. "Ulric, can you please answer some of my questions. I promise not to complain anymore if you answer some. I'm so lost."

If it was the promise of my lack of complaining or just pity, he stared at me a long moment with those icy eyes before nodding his head. "I will answer some questions. And the first question is that we travel off of the road for your protection. Many individuals want you and want the prize that your head contains. But others want you for bad reasons and will do horrible things if they found you. We are safer here in the cover of the trees than exposed on the main road. It is nearly impossible to hide the fact that you are not of this land with your strange clothing. I also cannot be seen, or I will face resistance by the Unified Nations."

"But why is there a prize for my head anyway? What is so important about me? And why can't you be seen either?"

"Twenty years ago, the king and queen of Ithica, the land that we sit on currently, had a child. A baby girl that was the crown princess to the country. She was abducted by rebels and couldn't be found. Thus, a bounty was created; whoever finds the princess and brings her back safely receives a reward from the king and queen. A few years ago, there was a spotting of a strange girl running around in the eastern woods. The girl was the spitting image of the queen when she was a teenager. Word spread. Then she popped up again. More and more random sightings of the queen as a youth sprung up around the land, and suspicions that it may be the crown princess began to grow. With my own eyes, I can confirm. This girl is you. You are the Crown Princess of Ithica, which makes you the Crown Princess of Erivale."

"No way, I can't be a princess. I don't know the first thing about it. I mean, I don't feel like a princess." I looked down at myself. I couldn't be a princess. Absolutely not.

Ulric arched a defined eyebrow at me and looked me up and down. "Well, you certainly don't look like a princess. Besides being the spitting image of your mother."

I rolled my eyes. One could always count on Ulric to be blunt. "Okay, well, for shits and giggles, let's say I am. What does that mean for me? What does the life of a princess mean?"

Ulric ignored my mortal phrase and said, "You are the princess. Typical duties of a royal child include extensive education and physical pedigree for defense and battle. You will often help with smaller tasks within the court, sit in on official meetings, travel to foreign lands as a diplomat. Although that is not as likely with your case as a Crown Princess. Event planning. Often times ceremonial attendance at events. That's the gist of it."

"How do you know all of that? And you never answered why you couldn't be seen either."

Ulric signed and ran a hand down his face. "I was a part of the court of a different ruling family. There were some differences many years ago. The result is that my brethren and I are not allowed into the Unified Lands without permission."

I could tell that there was much more to the story than simple differences, but I ignored it for the time being – I had more pressing questions. "So you aren't allowed here, but you plan to waltz right up to the king and queen?"

"Yes, the reward I receive from returning you shall protect me."

I tried not to get too frustrated at the quipped answers Ulric provided me. He was leaving a lot out, and I knew that, particularly with questions regarding himself. I decided to switch to more general questions about Erivale – he seemed much more forthcoming when it came to those. "If Elves, such as yourself, are real, does that mean that all the other creatures are too? Like the Garuda, Lilitu, Syreni, and Nereides? I never saw any during my other trips here; I wasn't sure if I had just imagined them."

Ulric's thick, silvery eyebrows furrowed in thought as he once again studied me. "If you have never met them, then how did you know of them?" The black leather covering his body for protection gave the sounds of being stretched too tight as he leaned forward with his chin in his hand.

"I, uh, I don't actually know." I tried to remember a time where I had learned of them or saw them, but I couldn't pinpoint it. Just as the images of the Great War were in my head, so were the other intelligent species of life that inhabited Erivale. "There are just some things in my head, I don't know where they came from or how I came to learn them. But I just know that they are true."

"What are these things you speak of?"

"Well, one is the Great War. I can see it; I can feel it as if I was there. The scent of blood and acrid smoke on the ashy air. The screams of pain and of dying breaths." My shoulders shuddered as I was briefly lost in the memory that was not mine.

"The Great War was nearly 50 years ago," he said, somewhat lost in thought. Ulric faded off into a stony silence signaling the end of our conversation.

I had many more questions, but I figured that I would have plenty of opportunities to ask as we traveled to what was apparently my home. Home. The word felt strange. My home had always been a small two-story Victorian-style home in Portland, Oregon. That's where I lived with my two parents, where I painted all of my pictures. I learned to walk and talk in that home. That was my home. But the part of me that felt distant from my mother, the part of me that hid the secret of portalling into this realm, the part of me that felt most comfortable fully immersed in paintings of Erivale knew that this was where I needed to be.

Erivale: The Lost PrincessWhere stories live. Discover now