Ivy glanced at the clock, noticing the abundance of time. She had gotten ready much faster than she anticipated and simply fretted in front of the mirror, picking at her dress she had imported from Salvino.
She had wanted to impress Adam with her red and gold silken dress. It would stand out against the forest greens and browns she knew her people would be wearing. Though she didn't love how the dress clashed with her hair.
Sitting in front of the mirror wasn't going to do her any good. She grumbled getting to her feet and going to stand on her balcony, overlooking the kingdom. The tree's rustled in the breeze making her smile faintly. She couldn't calm her nerves as she bounced in place.
Tonight, was the night. Adam would ask for her hand, she was sure. She should be thrilled, and yet only knots turned in her stomach. Perhaps a walk before the party would help. Ivy nodded; sure, a walk would calm the restlessness in her soul. The pressure of 'queen' was already a daunting reality.
Ivy paused thinking of taking the throne. It was what she had always wanted. What she had prepared herself for. But she didn't quite feel ready now that it was upon her. Sudden laughter jolted her from her thoughts as the servants finished their preparations.
Ivy dodged down a hallway to avoid the staff frowning at her train of thought. What was the matter with her? Of course, she was ready to be queen and rule the people of Trayson. She would make an excellent queen with Adam as king at her side. She just needed Meredith to see that.
She started off trying to decide where to go as she wrestled with her thoughts. The evening sun still too bright as it filtered in through the hall windows. The gardens would be crowded as foreign guests were entertained before the main event. She could always go back to her room, but the thought just made her anxious. No, she was better off here.
The empty hall allowed Ivy to pace as she tried to work through her problem. Not that she was exactly sure what her problem was. Maybe if she talked to someone, she could work through it. She hesitated when she briefly thought of Meredith.
She had said she would never return home. Why? Ivy nibbled on her lip as she considered it. She had been thinking about it earlier before Adam had distracted her. But Adam wasn't here now. Ivy glanced out the window at the early evening, nodding happily. She had time.
"Perhaps father left a journal or something." Ivy muttered hurrying through the castle to her father's old study. She tried to avoid the crowded places, taking note of the foreign visitors within her castle. She was hoping to find some document, a letter or message of some sort, that would tell her more about her stepmother.
Anything to help convince Meredith to take a vacation, leaving Ivy in charge long enough to prove herself. Ivy ignored the voice in the back of her mind telling her to focus on her own problem. Why worry about her own problems when she could snoop around in some else's?
The castle was built with the newest infrastructure being added upwards in the branches of the mother tree towards the sky. The bridge that connected the castle to the rest of the kingdom ran about halfway up the mother trees' trunk. The bridge sloped down towards the treetops of the Trayson market making anything built above the bridge connection on the mother trees' trunk, higher than any other point in the kingdom. Ivy's own room was high up, overlooking the market.
Ivy gasped when she stumbled over a loose floorboard. This part of the castle wasn't nearly as well kept as it should have been. She would have to consider restoring it at a later time she decided as she glanced around. She paused resting a hand against the smooth wooden wall of the inner trunk.
Her father had built himself two studies within the castle. One sat in the higher branches, across from the queen's study. That one had mainly been for show or dealing with problems unrelated to the council. She had already searched that study many times already with no luck. Ivy knew he had a second study down here in the old wing.
From what little she knew; it had been built before the bridge and the rest of the castle. And later abandoned once the kingdom was thriving. Ivy knew of it because her father had still used it before he left on his last trip, never to return the same.
Ivy inhaled deeply to try and quell the rising strong emotions. She was still so angry and hurt he had abandoned her. Why couldn't he have cared about her like he cared for Meredith?
She stood outside the old round door sealed shut with vines. The light from the small windows on the outer wall was fading making Ivy's lips thin. She knew it would be darker down here, but she hadn't realized just how much as the sun continued its slow descent. Ivy shook her head taking a deep breath. She slowly rested her hand on the door, allowing herself to feel the plants.
A natural gift of all young druids was the ability to feel plant life and command it to do their will. Mostly only minor things and only if the plants felt like giving their aid. A druid's bond with a plant strengthened their power, but at a cost.
Bonding with the mother tree would allow Ivy to become stronger, giving her sway over the entire forest, however, it would also ground her. Forcing her to remain inside the forest's boundaries. Not forever. It was only until she got used to the burden. However, even a few decades of imprisonment would drive her mad.
Her father died because he had strained the bond between him and his plant. That and she knew his age was a factor. He wouldn't have lived forever. Trips out of the forest away from the mother tree were possible, but they had their limit.
Two years as he persuaded Meredith to be his wife was beyond the limit and therefore beyond repair. The other thing Ivy worried about was being swayed by her plant to do its bidding. She wouldn't be a puppet to some plant.
Ivy growled to herself as she shook out her shoulders. Now was not the time to get lost in thought. She slowly felt the vines as they guarded the room and its secrets. Though she wasn't sure what secrets his old office would hold. But there had to be a reason it was locked.
"Please let me in. I am looking for information on my stepmother, queen Meredith." Ivy asked of the vines as they considered it. She could feel their reluctance before the mother tree bade them to obey.
Ivy frowned wondering why the tree would be so eager to help her. Perhaps it was a ploy to encourage Ivy to bond with it. The vines receded away from the door, allowing Ivy to push it open.
The sudden rush of stale air caused the dust to swirl and rise making Ivy sneeze. Ivy quickly went to the window on the far wall, throwing it open to let in some fresh air. Dust was thick on the floor and furniture, not being used in at least a decade. Probably more.
Ivy frowned looking around her father's old sanctum. It was a large space, compared to his newer study in the higher branches. And very well decorated considering her father wasn't the most style oriented. He was supposed to be the last druid before her and yet it looked like he hadn't bothered with anything related to plants or nature in the room.
Ivy cast her eyes about noticing something was off. Old silks hung from the walls in tatters, their bright colors fading to grey as a smooth stone covered the floor. Ivy crouched low, running her fingers over the stone tiles, clearing the dust from the sparkling quartz. She had learned a thing or two from her time in Salvino with the dwarves.
"Father never cared for stone. Why would it be in his study?" Ivy mumbled confused dusting her hands off. She got to her feet, looking over the rich furniture. Dark wood was carved and sculpted into art, embedded with fine jewels.
Cushions were made from the richest velvets... or at least they had been when they were new. Now they were mostly rotting. Ivy moved from the small sitting area next to the stone fireplace over to the desk crowded by bookcases on either side. A gentle breeze from the window caused the fabrics to flutter along the opposite wall revealing a hidden painting.
"Mother." Ivy gasped, rushing over and pulling the silks away from the wall to stare at the portrait more clearly. The woman looked young with her bright red hair pulled back out of her face. Her small, pointed ears, a statement of the elf she had been. Her long neck was covered in an array of gold as she sat covered in the finest clothing and jewels. Her yellow eyes almost mocking the viewer. Moriah, second queen of Trayson. The small plaque beneath the wooden frame read.
Ivy dragged her fingers gingerly over the painting wondering if she was the reason her father had stopped using the space. She had died when Ivy was just a toddler, so she had very few memories of the woman. She hadn't even remembered her face until now.
Ivy felt the tears welling up quickly wiping her face to recover. Now was not the time to mourn a woman she hardly knew. She had heard the rumors surrounding her mother. She had been dubbed the mad queen, losing her mind to an illness that eventually took her life. Her father had never talked about her and those that would tell her anything kept it short and vague. What kind of woman was she before she got sick?
A loud thud had Ivy spinning in surprise with a squeak. A vine twitched on the desk as dust swirled up from the floor. Ivy frowned as she crossed over to the desk. The vine pulled back away from her unsure before motioning to the object on the floor.
"I really wish you hadn't startled me like that. I almost had a heart attack." Ivy scolded the plant gently before bending down and picking up the leather-bound book. "What's this? Is this his journal?!" Ivy asked the vine excitedly as it simply twitched in reply. Ivy smiled, going to lean against the windowsill so she could have better light. She would have to return soon as the sun was setting further into the sky. She still had time.
"Let's see what father had to say for himself." Ivy huffed peeling open the stiff leather binding. The writing was fading but still it seemed legible. At least for the most part, there were parts the ink had smudge making it impossible to read the text in its entirety.
I cannot take this much longer. Unfortunately, our contract is coming to an end. When I accepted Moriah into my life as my wife so many years ago it was never out of love. I still do not love her as I did the woman before her. Our mutual understanding is what allows us to rule harmoniously.
But though age has not touched me since my bond with this tree, age has surely graced her. Moriah's personality has been turning quite bitter, knowing I will outlive her, a full-blooded elf. Through this bitterness we finally conceived a child, hoping that having a child would give her a distraction from the problems between us.
"Geeze, you would think being the old geezer my dad was he would have known kids don't solve everything." Ivy grunted tapping the page with her fingers. So, in order to fix things with his wife, they had her? Is that why her father despised her so much? Because she reminded him of his loveless marriage? Was Meredith any better for him though? Ivy pet the plant beside her like one might pet a cat as she thought about it.
She had heard through gossip with the servants that having children was a huge commitment. For most of them, they were happy with the families they had made as if it completed them. For others, children only seemed to amplify the problems between couples.
Her handmaiden suggested it was because the time they could have used fixing the problems between them was lost to the child which usually ended in unsaid feelings and then resentment.
Ivy loved the idea of having her own children someday, but she also knew she wanted to spend as much time with Adam before their alone time was lost to childcare. Ivy sighed, shaking out her head and getting back to the journal.
She was running out of time to be snooping and knew she would be too distracted to continue this anytime soon if everything went according to plan.
At first it seemed to have worked. Moriah smiled for the first time in years and has begun to sing. It was almost as if an exotic bird had moved into my gardens. As time went on and our child grew, I began to open up to her. She was a wonderful mother, and I adored our small family. I thought I had finally found happiness. But it wasn't to last. Moriah crossed a line I could no longer forgive...
"What line? Why is it so smudgy right there?! Fine, I will skip ahead." Ivy told the vine creeping along the windowsill. It felt nice to talk to someone even if it was a plant. She quickly turned the page, feeling her lips thin as she read the faded words.
Moriah was a danger to our daughter. So much so, I had to separate them in order to protect her. After Moriah attacked Ivy, I locked her away down here in this place. She refused to acknowledge Ivy as her own, only interested in the child we had lost. Her mind eventually collapsed under the strain of her depression.
She only wanted her first born, but no matter what I said she would not accept his loss. Shortly after Ivy turned five, Moriah passed away. I felt torn between anger and mourning. I had loved her with our first child and despised her with our second. Everything rapidly coming undone in an instant.
There are times I eminently yearn to return to those days of sunshine. To see my red songbird, sing and dance in the garden with our son. That our daughter was never born, and Moriah was not lost to the madness. But when I feel like this, I take a walk and see my little druid flower.
Our son was right. Ivy was worth protecting from her mother's cruelty. Living for so long has left me almost numb to the heartaches that I endure. I cannot bond with people as I once did, knowing that everyone I treasured, old friends, lovers, family... knowing they are dead makes me dream of the day I can join them. To leave this plain of existence forever.
However, just a glance at my smiling Ivy gives me the strength to endure. To know that I am not fighting for my future but for hers.
I will never get the chance to explain things to her. She is yet too young to understand the sacrifices that must be made. I only hope that I have done enough to prepare her for what's to come. The Seer's apprentice has approached me telling me of a woman in need of my help. I do not like the tone of which they speak, it reminds me too much of the tone Moriah's mother used with me before our loveless union.
But I cannot ignore the seer's call. I must answer, even if it numbers my remaining days. It will hurt to abandon the only light I have left in my life, but I have asked Hankard to look after her in my stead. I hope one day she will know how much I loved her...
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