Help Gryndl. Please, help me.
But her mental cry was blocked. She felt it rebound back into her mind with such force, she winced.
The tendril in her forehead penetrated still deeper into her mind, pursuing another prophecy without Anya's consent.
"No!" she cried aloud. "No, I will not let you!" She fought against the entity. "I refuse to see anymore. Let me go!"
The tendril was stronger than she, as it was controlled by the entity. Under the entity's power, it would stay in her mind until released. She may have been able to release the other tendrils but not this one. This one had staying power that would show her things against her will.
The entity was determined that she would learn future events. Something it wanted her to see. To defeat her? Perhaps. Or to render her powers inert. Make her lose faith in the First King.
Anya whispered a prayer. "O King, may you live forever, please come to my aid. I am in need of your help."
The entity spoke not a word. Nor did it rebuke her for praying out loud. She assumed it was off somewhere in some distant dark corner, hiding, licking its wounds, Anya surmised. The image that came into her mind, softened the entity into nothing more than a spoiled child wanting its way.
Anya knew in an instant who the entity was. She had not thought him capable of such power but if he was truly who she thought he was, then heaven help Halil. But she had no time to reveal her knowledge, as she was plunged into another prophetic vision.
This prophecy showed her a far, distant future, revealing Realms Anya was not acquainted with in her lifetime. In Granna's stories, all twelve Realms had existed in the ancient days. It appeared they would do so again.
Mists clouded her vision. On a night, darker than dark, Anya could not see anything save the shadowy gray Mists.
Then the sound of hooves shook the ground. Light appeared in the distance. Flickering light only fire can produced. Anya concluded someone or several someones were carrying torches while riding Steeds at top speed.
A woman, veiled and clothed in heavy cloaks soon revealed herself. It became all too apparent she was being chased by several men on Steeds. The woman, large with child, glanced backward in panic.
No matter how she urged the Steed on, the animal could not outrun the men. It's neck, flecked with foam and sweat conveyed exhaustion. The Steed's eyes rolled back with fear from both his mistress and the men behind them.
The woman urged the Steed to go faster. She leaned as close to his ear as her rotund belly would allow and whispered unheard words. The Steed's ears pricked forward, now interested in the road ahead.
Anya silently rooted for the woman without understanding the reason behind the chase. She could not see the woman's eyes which would tell her of what Realm she resided in. Nothing gave her any clue about this prophecy save the runaway Steed being chased.
It was obvious the men meant to do the woman harm. They shouted words in a language Anya did not recognize. Knowing the ways of men who had downed too much ale, she assumed most of the words were unsavory ones.
The road curved and twisted without warning. Anya noted thorns protruded from the trees. Out of the tips of the thorns dripped a dark liquid. Large drops splashed onto the road causing the Steed to shy away. Whatever the liquid contained, it had to be something deadly.
The current provided the answer. Poison. Judging from the flare of the Steed's nostrils, he scented the poison easily.
The men behind the woman shouted obscenities, some of which Anya was beginning to understand. Courtesy of the tendrils, the language was becoming clear to her.
"Woman, stop at once!" The man in front shouted. "I order you to turn around or I will remove that head from that grotesque body of yours. I will cut out that demon spawn you are carrying from your belly and dismember it."
"No!" the woman shouted. "I will never yield."
"As you wish woman. Archers, fire!"
Arrows flew at the woman from hidden places in the woods. Arrows tipped with the same poison that leeched out of the thorns. The woman flattened herself on the Steed's back as the arrows flew over her body.
Some came close to hitting her and the Steed. The woman urged the Steed on.
Around the next curve, the familiar shimmering of a Portal appeared. Next thing Anya knew, the woman and the Steed vanished into the Portal.
The men rode on, unaware that she had gone.
The scene then shifted to the frozen world full of snow and ice. Down below the frozen wasteland, laid a great underground city. The homes and shops had been carved within the existing rock. In the city's exact center sprawled a park with all forms of greenery. Stone benches had been strategically placed, blending and not obscuring the park's beauty.
Anya heard groans and cries emitting from one of the homes on the second level. The currents led her to a room in which the same woman that had been chased, now bore down with each contraction.
A part of the prophetic puzzle became clear. The men clearly had wanted the woman and her unborn child dead. She had fled to a Realm she knew would provide safety.
"Bear down with each contraction Alanis," the midwife told her. Her eyes, the color of white crystal, sparkled in the lamplight. Her skin, likewise. "It is almost over."
A final push and the newborn babe's cries were heard. The midwife separated the infant from it's mother, washed the wee baby and wrapped it a warm blanket. "She is beautiful your highness."
"I wish Jodmus had thought so."
"A shame her father is so cruel. A product of his upbringing for sure."
"He believes our daughter will bring about much death and destruction. How could such a tiny baby do all that?"
"Prophecies are vague at best. Not all of them are clear."
"But this prophecy foretells of a girl born with the Mark whom will destroy all the Realms." Alanis lifted the blanket from her daughter's face. "See? She has the Mark, just as I do. Jarvis believes in this prophecy. He is determined to hold onto his Rule. Should he let his daughter live, he would be facing certain death."
"He may believe in what he wants to believe. His determination to eradicate it will not alter it. This prophecy will be fulfilled just as all the others throughout recorded history."
"I cannot risk him finding her."
"Then stay here with us. He will not find you here."
"I cannot stay for long. I will nurse my daughter until she is able to take nourishment from a bottle. But I cannot stay."
"Why not your highness?"
"I have a duty to the Realms. I must ensure Jodmus' cruelty is held in check. He will forgive me. It is the child he wants dead more than I."
"What will you tell him?"
"I will inform him that the chase he so ardently pursued caused our child to dislodge from me prematurely. He will think her dead. Perhaps regret and remorse will change his cruel ways. We have three sons already. He will be content will that."
"He may kill you upon your return."
"He may. Or he may bestow mercy upon me when he sees me. Either way, I must go back."
"As you wish, your highness."
"Moira, I trust you take care of my little girl. I know Valosians have the ability to change one's appearance. You must do so with Rynn. You must make her appear Valosian."
"That is my husband's skill. I will inform him."
Moira left the room. Alanis suckled little Rynn. The baby, content on her mother's breast, closed her eyes, unaware her fate had been decided.
Moira soon returned with her husband in tow. "Qyora, I will need your services once again," Alanis said. "When Rynn is three months old, you must change her appearance. She must by all accounts appear as Valosian. Her hair, eyes and skin must make anyone here think she is Valosian without question. I expect you to teach her your ways."
"Yes, your highness."
"Is there any way you can cover the Mark?" Alanis asked.
"For certain. None will be aware of it."
"Good. Then it is settled."
"I do wish you would reconsider your highness," Moira said. She twisted her hands, worry evident in her movements.
"I know. But Jodmus will not cease his hunt for me and our daughter until he finds us. He will lay waste every Realm in the process. I cannot allow that. You must also affect changes to my body as well. Make it appear as if I miscarried."
"I will do so. But it will be a delicate process. Take many weeks. You will need more than one surgery. The King will no doubt want to have you tested."
"Of course. Whatever is necessary to make him believe our daughter is dead."
"Yes, your highness. After three months."
"Promise me, you will both take good care of her."
"We will," Moira promised, speaking for both of them. Qyora was more at home with his books and artifacts than with people. "You have chosen the name, Rynn?"
"My Great fore mother's name. You may of course, choose a name befitting a Valosian but I will always think of her as Rynn."
Moira opened her mouth but Alanis held up her hand. "Do not tell me. I do not wish to know. For her safety and mine."
"Of course. Shall we dress the little darling?"
"By all means."
With Alia dressed in warm garments, she slept on, content in her mother's arms.
The scene faded and Anya found herself once again in the Portal. Tears streamed down her cheeks. "Please let me go, I cannot bear it."
Her plaintive cry reached Nesh. Gryndl responded with a keening cry of his own. Swift were wings. He soared toward her, arriving within seconds of hearing Anya in his mind.
Without no thought of danger, he entered the Portal. Slashing the tendrils with his claws, he carried Anya out of the Portal. She hung limply in his claws, unconscious.
Setting her down on the grass, he breathed life back into her lungs. Coughing, she woke to find him staring down at her.
She smiled. "I knew you would come for me Gryndl."