You’re reading The Legend of Leanna Page, the page-turning mythopoetic queer literary fantasy. *Click here for the Table of Contents and start of Volume I*
Previously: In Pavoline, Byrdon was forced into the service of Prince Guiomar, and in Masor, Esta helped King Madrick II find a bit of purpose. It is seeming unlikely the two lovers could ever meet again. Will they find a way? Read on!
A weary sun was setting on the day that marked a full moon since Esta and Byrdon’s first, and only, meeting. Esta sat atop her small bed in her cottage in the Masor citadel and lit her bedside candle. Despite thinking better of it, she indulged her heart and removed her diary from its place beneath her pillow, turning to the specially marked page that held, pressed, the ivy leaf Byrdon had offered her. She gazed warmly at the portrait of him she had adorned the adjacent page with. While she looked, a brave tear dared to creep down her cheek until she sniffed and brushed it away, imploring the world to be kinder and grant her wishes; or else, to lessen her longing. Snapping the pages shut, Esta held the book to her breast and looked out upon her small cottage; an iron oven and stove, weary with age, a pantry of grains and fruit, and her royal maid apron laying atop her simple dresser crafted from oak for her grandmother by her grandfather on their anniversary. She felt the embroidered edge of the comforter beneath her and remembered when her mother had sat in her place and little Esta would snuggle into the opposite corner of the room, wrapped in blankets. Every night while her mother was alive, they would lie in the dark singing to each other until they both drifted off into repose. The finale of their little concert was always sung by her mother – a family melody passed down through the years. This tune had played in Esta’s mind every night since the death of her mother, and tonight was no exception; however, on this night, as she snuffed out the light and lay down to rest, the tune began in her ear and the lyrics brought remembrances of new love, bringing up images of Byrdon across her closing eyes. On this night, her heart sang the song to him.
LOVE WILL FIND
My dear who drifts into the night, Thy dreams may have no bound nor fright, For I’ll protect thee with my heart. My love will find thee where thou art. Sleep sound and roam our world unbound. Adventure waits beyond the ground. Fear not to roam to realms unchart’ For I will find thee where thou art. Thou wilt wake in the morning to have me by thy side. I’ll hear of thine adventures and swell with love and pride. The day may come when I must go; Still, don’t despair for even though They build a wall to keep us ‘part, My love will find thee where thou art.
*****
My love will find thee, she thought once more, and the darkness of sleep washed over her.
My love will find thee. The words rang in Byrdon’s ears as his mind left a nightmare and walked into a new dream. He found himself in the courtyard of the Pavoline castle. From the sound of it, it seemed the whole citadel was deserted, although, looking up behind him at the tower he could see the light burning in Guiomar’s chambers, and he turned back straightaway. Despite the emptiness of the court, Byrdon still heard the sweet music that brought him to this dream; My love... Staring through the haze of the dream-night, his eyes fell upon the full moon which hovered just beyond the gates of the palace courtyard. With the formation of the clouds, it seemed to smile, and the pulsing reflection of the great Gwahanu River on the moon’s surface beckoned him to follow thither. His feet passed over the cobblestone and the wind pushed open the gates for him to pass through, revealing to his eyes a glorious sunset, radiating thrice its usual size and glowing a fiery red, creating a gradient with magnificent oranges and yellows, mixing in the dark blue Sky and coloring it a deep violet hue. The sun touched the horizon at precisely the point at which Pavoline became Masor and Byrdon knew his love lay just beyond. My love will find thee...
His heart tethered to the sun, Byrdon followed the warm moon as it brought him past deserted merchant huts, beyond the eastern side of the citadel, and down below on a path, sided on one hand by the thick greenery of the Forest of Beasts, and on the other, for a time, the short sandstone of the city wall. The path descended with a stoop in the landscape, bringing him a story below the stones. He watched the forest, passing by its numerous small winding footpaths that had been tread into creation by centuries of adventurers until the moon turned him to face toward the citadel and halted him hither in front of a tall briar. It seemed to beckon him on but he stood still, unsure how to proceed. The air then coagulated and pushed him into the briar, which dissolved as he passed through, and he found himself in the mouth of a deep cave.
My love will thee where thou art.
Unbeknownst to him, Esta, once her breath slowed into slumber, found herself in a similar dream, the moon having called her from her cottage, leading her to an old forgotten well in the deep recesses of town. She stepped one foot in the water bucket and lowered herself until she landed at the end of the same immense cavern of which Byrdon now stood at the opposite mouth. Although separate, their two dreams began to be one. The moon’s pull drew them both deeper into the cave, leading them safely as they traveled alone through the darkness. At length, they each halted at a mysterious rustling sound some dozen paces ahead and dared not step further. Suddenly, a light grew from within the cavern walls and enveloped the central chamber of the cave in a clear blue glow, though neither traveler could discern the source of the light nor the cause of its sudden appearance. They thought not long on these questions, for just then they saw their love standing before them and, as though the light grew from within their very hearts and their feet had no need for the ground, the two lovers ran to each other in ineffable elation.
Just as they reached each other, the dream ended, and Esta and Byrdon both awoke alone in their separate kingdoms, but they wasted not a single breath. There was no doubt in either of their minds that the place they had dreamt existed in reality. With capes around their shoulders and minds and memories sharp, the lovers began their adventure. They quit their cottages and set out to follow the paths their dreams had lain.
Sure enough, the moon in their dreams had not led them astray, and without long they had again found the cavern and were running into each other’s arms.
“Esta! Thou art no dream; how can this be? Hast thou traveled this far from Masor?” Byrdon could hardly believe his eyes and he kept a soft hand around the beautiful maid to assure himself of her reality. Esta caressed his cheek in equal disbelief.
“I have traveled nowhere but down a dark well in the Masor citadel. Didst thou not journey from Pavoline?”
“Only but perhaps a quarter-hour from the beginning of a cave behind the castle.”
“I do not understand it,” she said. “But I care not now either. Thou art beside me, I have wished for nothing more.” They fell into each other’s arms, embracing tighter than the wick clings to the flame. Stepping back to absorb her lover’s countenance, Esta was alarmed by wounds she now noticed on his brow. Byrdon tried to calm her worry, but she persisted.
“Do not leave me in suspense. Tell me what harmed thee!”
“It was nothing, do believe me,” he tried, but she would not accept such an answer. Finally, he resigned his truth, embarrassed to say: “I jumped into a thicket.”
Esta hesitated, then broke into laughter. “And wherefore?” she mustered.
“My dream misled me. I thought I would pass through, and yet, the bush required cutting.”
As they stood and laughed, their minds bemused, their feelings found comfort in mingling with the other’s and soon it was as though multicolored mists of emotion emerged from their hearts, unable to contain themselves in the chest of their host, and wrapped around the lovers tightly, encircling the pair in a cocoon of light and love.
Perhaps the same magic that enchanted the Forest of Lufian held power over this cave, or perhaps the longing of two lovers, once afeared that they may never meet again, now together in solace and seclusion, was more than their rational minds could overcome. They remained in that cave until sunrise, spending the night in the service of passion.
After falling asleep in each other’s arms, Byrdon was the first to unclose his eyes and gaze upon the peaceful countenance of his beloved. His chest glowed with affection but now burned with fear as he remembered his prince’s threats, and then his prejudices. If it were discovered that he had left the castle, and if he were to be found with Esta – not only a Masorian but the maidservant to the princess herself! – he wished not to imagine the fate that could befall them at Guiomar’s hand. With deep regret, he shifted out from Esta’s embrace and began to dress.
Esta awoke at the soft sounds and smiled at the remembrance that the night had indeed not all been dreamt up by her longing heart. Thinking what must be the hour, she followed Byrdon’s example and slipped into her clothes. Realizing she’d awoken, Byrdon returned his gaze to her. Esta watched as Byrdon’s smile faded and, though he made attempts to conceal it, fear crept into the corners of his eye. Having finished dressing, she approached him, who now sat pensive on a boulder, and knelt by his side.
“Thou art troubled,” she began, “but I know not the cause. Yesterday, I had thought our love an impossible dream, but it seems the great River itself hath endorsed us with its magic. How else might we have found each other hither?” She smiled with care, concealing an apprehension to hear his next words.
He stood and paced away from her in anguish. “Esta, my life is not what it was when we met.”
“It has been but one moon,” she said.
“Yes,” he replied, spinning to face her, “and in such time I have been removed from my position and forced into the personal service of Prince Guiomar as punishment for revealing the truth of his crimes to the king. I have been threatened, humiliated, and made to swear on my life I shall be ever loyal to a brutish assassin, one who looks not well upon thy people.” He saw the tragedy encroach upon her countenance and attempted to soften. “Our love indeed is championed by the River and Sky. Any force of nature would be a fool to deny us, and we are lucky that nature is no fool. The royal forces of our kingdoms, however, are another matter. This magic that endorses us, if our small comprehension of it is correct, is the same that gives power to the fairies, a race my monarch shall have naught to do with out of fear and thine will have naught to do with out of hate. How are we to rely on such a magic?”
“What else are we to do?” Esta replied. “This is what matters to me now, I will not forsake it, not for fear. Of course, there will be danger. I tremble to think of thy position now especially. Thought of magic aside, Isolda and Guiomar would be likely to slit each other’s throats if occasion arose. Either one discovering our meeting would mean our ruin. Still, I don’t intend to let that prevent me from meeting thee again now that we have uncovered a way.”
“Esta, Guiomar has use for me now, and royal decree to hold me to his service no matter how terrible it becomes. I fear it is only thee he would destroy if he discovered us.”
“Then let us not be discovered!”
“I cannot risk thy life so! If any harm were to befall thee on account of my foolishness, I could never forgive myself.”
“My life is mine own to risk,” quoth she. “If tragedy were to come upon me, the fault will be mine to bear. I think it is far from foolish to follow where thy passion leads. Mine leads to thee, does thine to me?”
Taking her hands, holding them close, he confessed, “My passion for thee burns brightest of all the stars. Still, if submitted to, I fear its light could blind us to inevitable doom. We are from separate kingdoms, separate worlds, now connected by another world entire! How are the likes of us to become one?” His words twisted in her chest.
“I do not wish our love to be a burden,” she muttered, turning to the ground. “If thy fear surpasses thy feelings for me, I accept that measures to ensure safety must be taken. If thou dost truly believe we cannot meet without severe risk of capture, I would not wish it either. However—” she looked to him. “—hear me, Byrdon. I deeply believe that, in this, the world, united, is on our side, and meeting in this magical cavern, which itself drew us hither from whence we could only be apart, and whose light appeared only when the likes of us entered it, hither we will be safe to pursue a life by one another’s side. I see thou art hesitant, and I would not that thou decidest rashly. Take time to compose thy thoughts, and in one moon, when it is again full, I will be here in this cave waiting for thee. Come, if thou wilt; if not, thou wilt not hear from me again.”
Byrdon’s heart was overwhelmed so that he could not entreat his tongue to compose words. He took hold of the maid and kissed her tenderly. Stepping back, he looked to her with a passionate determination, and then ran off towards Pavoline, leaving Esta with a full heart; weary, but with an air of hope.
Enjoying this story! An added bonus getting to hear you sing as well!