The Medievals 2 Read online

  Wendolyn nods, securing her grip on the staff. Then, she closes her eyes and takes a centering breath. She allows her mind to journey to the conference of her ancestors: to Bwalen, and then Ashtel, and Mali, and further, until she reaches the aged face of Merlin.

  It is time to release her, Wendolyn appeals.

  While Merlin says nothing, his head seems to make a reluctant, subtle nod of agreement.

  Wendolyn opens her eyes and looks to the Lady of the Lake, still waiting there in the middle of the River of Tears. Then, Wendolyn channels all of the energy from her body into her hands and…

  WHOOSH!

  An invisible blast of air shoots from the staff, and it hits the Lady of the Lake like the strongest of winds colliding with the tide, sending spindrift in all directions. When the spray clears, the Lady of the Lake is gone, no sign of her existence remaining. And Wendolyn wonders if she did not accidentally blast the Lady of the Lake into oblivion.

  For a moment, there is silence but for the murmurous song of the river’s current.

  Then, a body splashes up through the surface of the water: it is a slender woman, who draws in a deep breath, as if she has been trapped beneath the water too long without air. As she steps out of the water and onto the bank of the river, Wendolyn recognizes the Lady of the Lake now in human form. She is beautiful.

  The woman touches her own arms, face, and hair, as if feeling her own flesh for the first time.

  “I am Vivienne once again,” the woman says, relief forming a smile with her lips.

  A collective gasp from the Truscans echoes through the canopy as the Lady of the Lake, now taking her original form as Vivienne, makes her way to Wendolyn. With an instructive nod from King Lemlee, several of the Truscans convey a regal white robe to Vivienne, taking care to gently wrap her body still dripping with water.

  Vivienne embraces Wendolyn, their cheeks touching.

  “The last time my skin touched the skin of one of my children was nearly three centuries ago when I held Darden, as a baby, against my chest. And now here you are, one of my children’s children, so many generations between us. I am eternally grateful to you, Wendolyn,” Vivienne says, her gratitude reaching deep within her eyes.

  Then, Vivienne releases Wendolyn from her affectionate hold, wiping a tear from her cheek.

  And as she pulls the white robe tighter over her shoulders, she says in a maternal way, “But now, my child, you have come to ask me a question. So ask it.”

  It is true. Wendolyn has travelled here to the Tree of Ten Thousand Roots to seek counsel from Vivienne. She could have sought guidance from Mulan, but Wendolyn believes she already knows the Blind Shen’s mind on this question.

  “Can I stay with him?” Wendolyn asks Vivienne, and they both know that she is referring to Richard.

  As Vivienne considers the question, Wendolyn can feel her heart growing anxious.

  Finally, Vivienne responds: “These past months have revealed a great many things to you. After living in the shadows of your fate for so many years, you have suddenly been rushed out into the light, your eyes squinting. You are now moving through this world with an awakened mind, but there is much for you to learn yet, Wendolyn. You have only begun to discover your true voice. And for one to fully know thine own self, one must remain singularly focused, much like that single strand of hair on your head.”

  Wendolyn’s spirit sinks, knowing what this answer implies.

  “I know that these are hard words to hear, Wendolyn,” Vivienne acknowledges. “But, for a time, you must separate yourself from the distractions of the heart.”

  “But how?” Wendolyn wonders aloud, certain that her heart will not permit her to forget Richard even for a minute.

  “Distance,” Vivienne answers. “Travel to the Lands of the East, where you can hone your skills with Mulan and the Shen. Cloak yourself in the discipline of the Order.”

  “Do I have a choice?” Wendolyn asks.

  “You asked me if you ‘can’ stay with King Richard. The answer is, yes, you can. You are responsible for your own destiny now, Wendolyn. Myself, Mulan, we can only give you counsel. The choice is yours to make.”

  As Wendolyn ruminates there beneath the Tree of Ten Thousand Roots, her fingers combing through her single thread of hair, Wendolyn desperately wishes someone else could make this decision for her.

  But she knows she must make this decision for herself.

  And she already knows what decision is to be made.

  {Richard & Wendolyn}

  They stand there in the Sacred Garden together, the sky filled with watching stars, the air sweet with the scent of magnolia blossoms. He looks at her, soft dresses of young moonlight sewn into her curling strand of hair. And she looks at him, his truth-blue eyes polished by the gloaming.

  They are sharing a song that only lovers hear, one that outlines a conversation with eternity. They have heard the expectant call of this song for years. But now, together if only for a moment before their separate purposes draw them apart once more, the song wraps itself around the two of them and pulls them closer than bodies allow.

  As their lips meet, their wordless conversation continues. And the vanishing light flickers across their unknown future.