The Land of Emeralds

Prologue

Tonight the battle begins, their training leading up to this moment.

The exposure.

The moment most beings have to wait for, a power so mysterious only those who know of it, other than these few chosen, are dead.

The Crescent Moon Pond in the middle of town is the only place to find such strength. Some say that just smelling the lime green water will bring you blessings. Of course, if you can get that close you’re lucky. You have to have special permission to be a loud even that close.

On this night, Animosus, the woman in charge of the army, wades into the green froth. Her skirts automatically shimmer into the same color as the pond. She turns and beckons the other ten to follow.

One by one they file in after her. Standing next to a crystal bobbing in the water. The crystals give the pond it’s power and if so much as a splinter of one is missing, the lake will turn black and all those who have come in contact with its power will be taken by Death and never be seen or heard from again.

This is why none of the soldiers dare even to breathe in the general direction of the emeralds in the pond. They don’t dare stand even an inch too close.

The five sacred mages stand on the outskirts of the pond, chanting, giving the soldiers the strength to endure the magic that will soon take them over. Without the proper precautions, each man would turn into a vegetable. To become a zombie to the world. Not responding but still alive until death overthrows them.

Bellator, the nephew to the king, is one of the few most disciplined warriors who have been chosen this night. With the power he will be granted there is a sure win to this battle. There is no question to whether or not he will return home. You see on this night he has received yet another amazing gift.

A second child.

A daughter.

He can’t risk the slightest amount of doubt. He has promised his wife, Bellus, he would return to name the darling angel and hold her in his arms. That’s it!

Angel.

Heavenly. . .

Caelestis. His wonderful Caelestis.

He must return home and tell his wife the news.

His piece of heaven.

Caelestis.

Chapter One

Letters from the heart

“Cael. What do you suppose it would be like to fly?” Notitia asked.

“I believe it would be a breath taking experience.” I replied.

Notitia had always been strange. You see she died at birth.

 

After death you started a new life. You were different. Notitia was the perfect proof of that.

She never experienced anything with a “mortals” eye. There was always something off when she spoke to you. It seemed that if you said the wrong word she would start to cry, if you looked at her wrong she would fall to the ground and never move again, if you asked her the wrong question she would turn to dust right before your eyes.

She was so fragile, but I knew you couldn’t touch her, in anyway at all.  She was so different from all the other kids. She always had a special shimmer in her smile. When she asked questions, she expected the unexpected. She wanted to hear what almost everyone didn’t think about twice. She wanted something that wasn’t obvious.

She also didn’t notice how all the other kids would look at her differently, knowing that Death had touched her, in more ways than one. Death had taken her mother as punishment for her fathers actions.

Notitia’s Mother shouldn’t have died giving birth to her. Notitia’s father had tried to take one of the emeralds in the pond. There was no exceptions to this rule. Everyone knew it and he disobeyed.

He lost what the most important thing in his life. His wife. He would never see her again because of his stupidity. He lost everything at once for a moment of weakness. He lost all he lived for in a matter of hours. Death was cruel.

Notitia didn’t hate her father or anyone else. She was kind to all because of her “immortal” capabilities. The saddest part was no one noticed this because she was different. No one spoke to her unless necessary. I wondered why. She was the most awesome person I had ever met.

“I wish I could fly.” Notitia giggled. We sat on some wooden swings in the park. She limply let the wind blow her to and fro.

“I do too.” I smiled dragging my feet in the wood chips.

“Do you think that I could grow wings?” She asked watching a flock of birds fly by.

“I hope so.” I replied simply. I didn’t know what kind of answer to give her.

“I do too. Wouldn’t it be lovely?” She shoved her feet into the ground and jumped back, thrusting the swing into the air. She held out her arms and flapped them as the swing swung wildly out of control. “A pair of snow white wings to travel by. Oh, I wish I could fly!”

I laughed. “Can I join your flight Miss Swan?” I asked.

“Oh that would be perfect Miss Dove!” She sang.

I repeated Notitia’s actions, I shoved my toes into the wood chips and flung myself back, not getting as much leverage, but enough to suffice my needs.

With all the excitement, Notitia began to fog. Her figure a smokey cloud on a swing. Her form whisked in circles. She became a stormy sky before my eyes, connected to a swing.

“Noti!!! Lightning!” I screamed, warning her of the last time this went to far.

“Oh my!” She floated out of the swing as it drunkenly swished to a stop. Her cloudy self touched the ground with the grace of a ballerina and she sat in a yoga position. “I’ll fix it!” She sang as she hummed a tune she had been obsessed with lately.

I rolled my eyes. She was certainly odd.

I slowly came to a stop and planted my feet into the ground. As I stood, the world became a blur and I stumbled back, my legs tangling themselves with the ropes. My head made a hard thud as I hit the ground, a few wood chips flying into the air.

Notitia’s figure, still a bit blurred, dissolved into place above me. Concern written across her pale features.

“Are you alright?” She asked, extending a hand then pulling it back, remembering that she couldn’t touch me. She looked down at her hand longingly.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I replied sitting up.

“That’s good.” She replied, her voice drifting off. Her thoughts were somewhere else. This happened to her a lot.

She stared at her hand, clenching and then unclasping. Her expression was blank as she looked for an answer in her translucent hand.

I was able to untangle my legs and stand up. I brushed off my jeans and fixed my blouse.

“What’s it like to feel?” Notitia asked, looking sadly at her hands. This was one of the moments I was afraid to speak the wrong words. . .

“You know that feeling when you laugh really hard and can’t stop? Or just a few moments ago when you were having a really good time? That’s what feel is. It’s when you portray your emotions to another person without words.” I replied.

“Without words. . .” She replied absently. A rain drop fell from her misty eyes and to the woody ground.

I could instantly smell the forest after it had taken a shower. It always made me sad when she knew she was missing something important. Something she would ever experience, something she would kill for. This is when I wanted to hug her, to let her know how much she meant to me. I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t touch her.

“Are you going to be okay?” I asked stepping closer.

She sniffled and wiped her eyes dry. “Yeah,” She mumbled, “I’ll be fine.” She looked up and smiled at me.

“Good. I wouldn’t want my best friend to turn into a rain cloud!” We both laughed.

Notitia was eight then, I was ten.

Now I am seventeen. My birthday was a month ago.

Viscus is my big brother, he is twenty.

His birthday is tomorrow.

Viscus has been training with the other soldiers for about two years now. He can’t tell us anything in his letters, he can’t come home, I can’t wish him a happy birthday with a my voice and a hug.

How can I explain how much I’ve missed him? How can I explain how much he means to me without touch? I wish I knew how to write my love like Notitia. That’s how she makes me feel better, with letters.

Reading her “love” letters are like listening to an orchestra. The composer always knows how to pluck your heart strings just right, so that you feel that emotion, that magic that you can never see.

It’s also like watching a butterfly emerge from his cocoon. The feelings she’s been hiding or unable to unveil, bloom into something so beautiful, that something as simple as a word can’t describe her brilliance.  Not even the smartest man alive could tell you what every single word meant, because every word on that paper is meant for you.

She only wants you to feel what she does when she thinks of you. I can truly say that I don’t understand everything she’s trying to tell me. She loves to speak in riddles. Though every time I look back at her hand writing, I understand a little more.

I know I will never know how deeply she cares for me, but I enjoy learning more.

I want to do that for Viscus. How can I do that? I’m not at all as good a writer as Notitia.

What am I good at?

I thrust the pen onto the table with such vigor, the legs raddled and knocked Father’s briefcase onto the floor. He looked up shocked, “What’s wrong Caelestis?”

“Gah! I’m so sorry!” I rushed to help him pick up the papers that had scattered across the kitchen floor.

Father shook his head. “My dear Caelestis, there is no need for your apology. What’s wrong?” He asked placing his strong hand on mine.

I sighed. “I don’t know what to write to Viscus.” I mumbled. Picking up another white sheet with my free hand. My anger almost seemed stupid, now that I thought about it.

He gave me a look with such love, my heart melted. “Why would that bother you so?”

I sighed. “I want to portray my love to him like Notitia.” I replied.

“Ahh. . . but you dear girl are no Notitia. You are the beautiful Caelestis.” He replied with a smile. He thought he was clever.

“Yes I know that, but how do I show Viscus how much I care for him then?” I asked.

“The only way you can. With your talent.”

“And that would be. . ?”

“How could you not know? You dear girl have a voice of an angel. Why not give him a ballad?” Father replied, his smile creating wrinkles at the sides of his eyes.

“But. . . how will I sing it to him?” I asked. I couldn’t send my voice to him.

“That’s just it. Send him the words and he can pretend to hear you singing to him.”

“That’s a great idea!” I smiled widely and hugged Father around the neck. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!”

“You’re welcome,” He laughed. “Now go get started on that letter.”

“Not until I’m done helping you with the mess I made!” I replied.

Father shook his head and laughed. There was nothing he could say to change my mind.

* * *

I stuck the little white envelope into my red mailbox and stuck the green flag into the air.

Ha! I thought, I’ve got something to give Viscus! What now fate?

Of course I shouldn’t have been taunting such a force but, it was so much fun! I finally came up with the right lyrics for his song. (After about three hundred tries, but who’s counting?)

I smiled broadly and strutted down the street. I took out a folded piece of paper and looked at the scribbled letters once more.

Let’s see, I wondered staring down at the shopping list.

It was a simple list. All I had to do was visit the market and get what I needed.

I concentrated on memorizing what we needed, I always liked to window shop and I couldn’t do that today. I sighed glaring down at the paper in my hands.

Come on brain, take it in! I hustled across the sidewalk, passing people by and catching waves  from other people and returning them.

I looked up and down the street for carriages. Nothing. I ran across doing my best to get to the store as soon as I could.

I heard my feet tap the cobble stones to the market. I opened the door to the huge indoor market place. People were everywhere, this was truly my favorite place.

Though today I only needed to visit one stall. I looked around for the green flags that marked it’s presence. The very thought made walk a bit faster.

The one and only stall I usually visited came into view, the green and white striped banner welcoming me to it’s sweet scents. The Food Cart.

I bounced into the front and smiled at the figure leaning over a few of the barrels in the back.

“Hello Mr. Senilis, I’ll take the us-” my voice broke as the figure stood and turned to look at me.

This wasn’t the elderly Mr. Senilis I knew. He was tall with short brown that swept to the right side of his face. He had a bit of muscle and he looked quite handsome. Who the heck was this guy?

“Sorry, Mr. Senilis is out at the moment. I’m watching the stall until he comes back. What is it that you need?” He smiled and I saw his pure white smile.

“Who are you?” I asked confused. Mr. Senilis would never leave his stand willingly. Who did this guy think he was?

“I’m Mr. Senilis’s grandson, Spero.” He smiled again and waited for me to reply.

“I’m one of Mr. Senilis’s usual costumers, Caelestis Bellator.” I attempted to smile at this stranger, though I’m sure it didn’t come out right. (You always used the man of the house’s name to describe who you belonged to.)

“Oh! Yes! Mr. Senilis said I should expect you and that you always get the family pack of fruits, veggies and the minimum snack. Am I right?”

I nodded. “Yeah, thanks.”

He went to the back of the stall and picked up a large basket full of the food that would sustain us for the rest of the month.

I took it from his strong hands and thanked him. It was the weirdest thing to meet this boy here. Spero.

I looked at him suspiciously and turned my back to the stall.

I shuffled down the isle left for the customers to roam and up to the front door. I pushed it open and started home.

The streets seemed to be a bit more crowded now that lunch the sun had found the center of the sky.

Kids ran along the cobbled sidewalk and adults were headed off to work. There wasn’t much I could do but wave at familiar faces and keep an eye out for small children that I might trip over.

I was soon home and placed the basket in the kitchen. I began to put things away, knowing that both my parents were now in their studies. It was now my job to watch the house and keep things in order. It wouldn’t be hard. I had done it a million times before.