Chapter XXVII - Nebulous Rises

The Legend of Leanna Page: Vol. I

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: Leanna promised Esta and Kennedy that, if she could steal it from the king, she would bring the Jewel of Nebulous to Alquoria to be hidden away. Most importantly, she would never wear it. Will she keep her promises?

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Emerging from the cave, Leanna wound her way towards the castle, taking care to evade the sight of any – knight or peasant – who walked out in the night. She snuck around to the rear of the fortress and found once more the small, unassuming servants’ entrance. Seeing that no one stood by, she hurried to it and, removing the bolt-spear from her pocket, sent its quiet sparks toward the latch, unfastening the lock. Now entering, she was blinded by the darkness within and felt her way to the summit of a staircase until she found an archway leading to a torch-lit hall. Hiding in the darkness of the stairwell, she observed two knights guarding the end of the hall and could only presume many more were stationed throughout the palace, far more fortified now after the intrusion of the fairies those years before. Looking through her mind’s eye, she charted the path through the castle to Guiomar’s chamber at the edge of the fortress where he presently slept, and knew there would be no reaching it unseen. She twirled the bolt-spear between her fingertips and, placing her shoulders back and lifting her chest, brazenly stepped out into the hall, stampeding towards the guards. They lifted their swords at the sight of her, but she threw them each a controlled bolt and stunned them to the side. Leanna turned a confident corner and the knights guarding thither received the same fate. Upon hearing their fellows fall, and the subsequent bellows, more knights came thronging into the halls, but none hindered Leanna’s speed. She charged through them, nostrils flared, paces steady, and aim keen. When the halls were such that no direct path though the crowding knights could be seen, Leanna remembered her training with the Warriors of Alquoria and executed their battle-dances with grace and ferocity, tucking beneath the sword of one knight, and leaping over that of another. Her elbow found the chainmail on a knight’s side, unprotected by his plate armer. Her fist met the under-chin of the next. She somersaulted beneath several, knocking them to the ground, and sent a bolt between the legs of one who meant to take her as she slid under him before leaping to her feet. A couple took their chance to retreat, and the rest were finished off with blasts from her spear.

Taking her final turn, she released a stunning bolt and quieted the knights who guarded the chamber of King Guiomar Ranzentine. Stooping to them, she removed one of their gloves and placed it within her pocket, then she stood to face the double doors, gazing at the handle that would open them. Closing her eyes and seeing inside, Leanna saw that the king slept soundly. She tucked her bolt-spear away, and coaxed the right door open with a light touch, peering in to look upon the king. Leanna slipped into the chamber and closed the door with nimble rapidity upon her entrance, letting no more than a sliver of torchlight into the apartment, and for no longer than a swift moment. Still, the light of the moon shone in from the casements and flooded the apartment in copious amounts, plenty to reflect a great shine off the gem that adorned the king’s fingers. The Jewel rested there, glittering, wrapped to Guiomar’s right hand which recklessly dangled off the side of the bed closer to the door. Leanna remained a moment, fingers still on the door handle behind her, staring at the Jewel of Nebulous, so close to her now, desperately forcing her heart to calm. She took a step into the chamber and the king’s finger twitched. Jolting her eyes up to see he still slept, she pushed forward, at length finding herself before him, before it, and she placed one knee upon the ground to bring her eyes in line with the Jewel. A rush of anxious excitement prickled at her fingertips as she reached her hand up to meet the king’s. She might have then ripped the Jewel from his hand and escaped the chamber, but her fingers stopped in the air, remembering she should not touch the gem if she meant not to wear it. She took a moment to slip the glove onto her hand. In the ill-advised moment of pause, the eyes of Guiomar Ranzentine flared open before her and she jolted back, falling upon the ground as he whisked his hand away and vaulted to the opposite side of the bed.

The king called for his knights, but there was no response. He scowled at the silence, and Leanna smirked, taking her bolt-spear in hand. Despite its size, Guiomar instantly recognized the weapon and retrieved his own bolt-spear which he had mounted upon his wall, firing at Leanna in the same instant she fired a bolt at him. The directed lightning from each spear met in the center of the chamber and exploded in a crash of thunder, Leanna’s spear flying from her hand and breaking through the window beside her, falling into the courtyard below. Guiomar simultaneously dropped his sizzling weapon to the chamber floor and they both watched as the blue spearhead at last revolted against its untrained wielder and lost its glowing spark, the handle burning into a blackened crisp. King and Page flashed each other a leery glare then dove toward subsequent fighting tools, Guiomar taking hold of his sword and Leanna grabbing the fire poker beside the hearth. Guiomar rushed to her, slashing his sword, and she blocked his blow with her makeshift blade, her force knocking him back a step. They recovered in the same moment and sent their blades together, iron clashing with steel, he now overpowering her, and she maneuvering to throw him off his footing. Their weapons met several times more and the sound of it at last brought a loyal knight storming into the chamber, sword held at the ready.

The knight placed his sword at Leanna’s back and, keeping her eyes trained on Guiomar to the front, she swung the poker behind, clashing with the knight’s blade. She was successful in thrusting the knight’s sword hand away, but with his other he grasped the iron she fought with and, in her thwarted attempt to maintain her hold, she was thrown, weaponless, to the wall, her back thrust flat against it. A glint of pride shone in Guiomar’s eye as he lifted his sword and rushed to Leanna, driving his sword into her chest, just above her heart, forcing it through until the point stopped at the stone behind her. She gasped, pain rippling through her, panting now into her lower abdomen, careful to maintain stillness above where the blade sat within her. Guiomar began to chortle, holding his right hand upon the hilt.

“This is finished,” he declared, leaning his weight toward Leanna and onto the sword, unable to relinquish his victorious sight. Leanna persisted through her pain, offering him a sly grin. He furrowed his brow.

Her glove shot up to his hand and tore the Jewel of Nebulous from his fingers. With a knee to his groin, she kicked him against the bed and used a cautious speed to pry the sword from her chest, endeavoring not to howl against the pain. She threw the bloody blade at the knight who evaded it by stepping in front of the doors. Opposite him, Leanna looked to the window and knew of the steep height at which it stood from the castle courtyard below. Guiomar began to stand, the knight stepped toward her, and, tightening her fist around the Jewel, she hurled herself though the glass. She could hear Guiomar’s scream as she descended, but it hardly compared to her own upon her impact with the cobblestone of the ground below. Knights began filtering out into the court and Leanna endeavored to walk, to run, or simply to stand, but her now shattered leg would have none of it. She managed to drag herself to the center of the courtyard towards the open gate, but spotted blackness began to conceal her vision and Pavol knights now encircled her in every direction, swords held at the ready.

A sense of relief overcame her. She opened her hand and glared at the Jewel which sat, at home, in her gloved palm. It glowed bright under her glance, and she felt its warmth. There would be no reaching Anwansi with the Jewel uncaptured, she could see that clearly now, and too Leanna knew asudden that, even if she did successfully reach Alquoria’s capitol with the coveted gem, she herself would never be able to part from it. She looked round at the knights who encircled her, and she twisted the Jewel around to the top of her fingers.

Forgive me, she thought to her mother and Kennedy in the same. I was made to wield the Jewel. It is time. She could hear them begin to plead with her, but she shut them out. Now, closing her eyes, she plunged the Jewel deep into the wound above her heart, screaming at the pain, then, keeping her right hand pressed against the profuse outpour of blood, she took up, with her left, the vial of Aldorian water and placed it to her lips, tilting her head back, and drinking to the last drop. The empty vial hung around her neck as she came up to her knees and pressed her palms into the floor. She pinched her eyes tighter, feeling every sensation, as the magic coursed through her every vein and brought remedy to her injuries, healing her wounds, and sealing the Jewel of Nebulous inside her.

Her visions brought her once again to the Nebulous chamber and the images she saw flashed uncontrollably betwixt the first of the murals and the last, Leanna seeing her own visage in place of the anonymous, silhouetted adorners, now the one in peace, and now the one in evil. She shook the vision from her head and regained her sight of the stones lining Pavoline’s royal courtyard, comprehending with complete clarity the vastness of her newly acquired power. With the Jewel of Nebulous sitting above her heart, and its magic coursing through her, she felt, at long last, complete.

The knights whispered in astonishment as she steadily came to her feet, facing away from the castle. She widened her stance and shot her hand into the air as above them dark clouds began to gather, soon blanketing the Sky and crackling with lightning. Horrified at the power of the young mystical woman, the knights slightly lowered their swords and took some steps away, countenances covered in fear.

Leanna looked up at the massive clouds and grinned. In a sudden pivot to face the grand entryway of the palace, she sliced her arm down to her side and rain began to pour, drenching the knights but leaving Leanna dry. Lightning split the Sky and only thundered all the louder. She now met eyes with Guiomar who stood under the protective covering of the landing of the castle steps. He stood frozen in a furious terror. She remembered the knights of Masor and glared at the king, raising her hand once more to her thundering Sky. A flurry of lightning flashed down into the courtyard and, in its retreat, it left the world unseeable. Lightning flickered again amidst the clouds and shone momentary light on the scene until the thunder quieted and the clouds drifted south, allowing moonlight to flood into the courtyard. Only then did Guiomar see. Some of his knights seized, the others all unconscious, and the eyes of Leanna Page burned before him with a vengeance. He looked to her, this page, evermore the wielder of Nebulous, and shuddered, now jumping back as thunder crashed once more and lightning rained over the fields beyond. Fire began to grow, turning the horizon a deep red before clouds returned to rain upon it, beginning to subdue the flames into rising smoke. Leanna paced steadily toward the king, her eyes glowing with the power of the Jewel behind them. She climbed the castle steps and Guiomar fell to his knees before her, paralyzed in awe.

Upon reaching him, Leanna snatched his poignard and held it at his throat.

“Look beyond the walls, your majesty. Watch it burn.” Even her snarled sentiments seemed to boom like thunder in his ears. “This is what thou hast earned for thy people, King. THIS – the destruction of the peace – is for what thou shalt be remembered.”

“So kill me,” he dared. “You can finish it. Finish me!”

She raised the poignard high and readied to strike but king and page both were then frozen in their place, suddenly hurtled into a new type of waking dream.

They stood, weaponless, in Leanna’s bright dreamscape, Guiomar looking round in horrified haste.

“Have you done it?” He asked. “Am I gone?”

“No,” she snarled. “It seems the River doth not wish it.” Finally, she began to soften, remembering herself. “Or, perhaps, in truth, it is that I do not wish it.”

He looked to her, at last unabashedly amazed. “How could you not wish my end?”

“Because I would not have you released from the burden of your crimes. Death, I imagine, is nothing so real as this place of my mind; nothing where you can feel. And if anyone deserves to be made to feel, it is you, Guiomar Ranzentine. No, for you, it will not be so simple as death. You have to make remedy.”

“Remedy for what?”

“Do not dare look me in the eye and ask such a question.”

Guiomar turned his gaze away and sought round him for an escape. There, of course, was none. He returned to her.

“Let me free of this place.”

She shook her head. “What are you going to do after today, King?”

Striding up and looking down with a maddened glare into her unshaken, steadfast eyes, he said, “I am going to lead my people how I have always intended.”

“With steel, and greed, and prejudice? I will not allow it.”

“What will you do of it?”

“What I promised many years ago. I will stop you. You know I can, and you know I will always be watching.”

He paced back and turned away, fiercely rubbing the terror from his chin. He remained staring out into the cerulean. “What would you have me do?”

“Fix it.”

“Fix it!” He cried, returning his gaze to her. “To what standard?”

“The standard of peace.”

“Impossible.”

“Peace is always possible,” the Nebulous woman assured him.

“I have nothing in me that would allow it. I never learned how to be peaceful king.”

“Yet be so you must,” she commanded.

“I do not know how!”

“I can guide you.”

“You despise me. Why would you aid me?”

Leanna held back her rage, rising to her own decided measure. “Guiomar, if you shall wish to aid the world, then I shall wish to aid you. Such a matter is too vital to be lost in vengeful remembrances.”

They remained now in one another’s stare, unspeaking and unmoving, as new voices began to ring in their ears.

Madrick: “Isolda, put that down.”

Isolda: “Get back to thy chamber, brother. Where are thy knights?”

Madrick: “I will no more be locked away.”

Leif: “Madrick?”

Madrick: “Leif, is it thee? And Esta!”

Esta: “Your majesty. Leanna! … Madrick, what is she—”

Madrick: “Isolda, no!”

Thunder cracked and all flashed darkness in the dreamscape. Guiomar’s sight returned to his place in the clear night, standing atop the palace steps, seeing two peasants some distance away, his knights beginning to rise, his royal ally holding the small bolt-spear in hand, her previously imprisoned brother grasping onto the same as it pointed toward the steps, and at last Leanna, having fallen unconscious at his feet. The older peasant woman, who had a striking visual similarity to Leanna, ran to the steps and held the young woman’s face. At her cry of relief, it could be seen that Leanna still had breath.

“Madrick, thou fool,” Isolda snapped, pulling her arm out of her brother’s grasp and tossing the bolt-spear aside. “Thou hast ruined the shot. Look, she lives!”

“I will never allow thee to take her life!” he declared.

“Thou art nothing but trouble,” the queen snarled.

“To be trouble to thee is an honor.”

Isolda scoffed and pushed her brother aside, pulling her dagger from her belt. She tried to walk to the steps but was stopped asudden by the other peasant’s firm hand on her arm.

“Leif, release me at once or die where thou dost stand.” Isolda warned.

Madrick pulled the two apart and put himself between them. “Isolda, by the River and Sky, find some sense of tenderness. I beg you, Sister, hear me now as you have not dared to in years.”

“It is not a matter of daring, Brother, it is a matter of not wasting my time.”

The peasant woman spoke now. “Your highness, for all we have each endured, please, hear him.”

“How is it thou art even here, Esta?” Isolda barked.

“I knew where my child would be.”

“So be it. But thee, stablehand?”

“Esta needed a horse,” they replied.

Isolda scoffed, laughing further as she paced back toward the center of the courtyard and slipped her dagger away in its place. “Well, then is this not simply the loveliest? The whole family, reunited.” She looked to Esta. “Not all, actually. Where might the father be? I thought he of anyone would be in Pavoline.”

“Do not be cruel, Isolda,” Guiomar said.

“Me? You killed the man!”

The king’s countenance was grave. “I know.”

Madrick looked to no one but Isolda. “Let us return to Masor and tend to our own people. You can leave this blood-thirst behind.”

“It is not blood-thirst, it is strategy. She would ruin us!”

Madrick scowled. “That is only a lie you crafted to make your yearning for power more palatable.”

“Is it a lie that she sought my crown? Why else would she have befriended one such as thee?”

“She befriended all, regardless of status,” Leif spoke now. “She was the last to ever think of seeking a crown.”

Isolda fumed. “She maneuvered behind my back to turn my own brother against me. Madrick, she pushed you toward the throne, and the closer you became the closer did she.”

“If you had not been such a status-minded, riches-hungry ruler, perhaps she would never have bothered. She was nothing but a page in our castle until you made a villain of her.”

“She was always more, Madrick, you know that,” Esta said.

“She should not have had to be,” he replied.

The mother scowled, various remembrances returning to her in a flurry of sorrow. “If you had not held so tightly to your prejudices, perhaps she would have revealed her power to you sooner and all the banishment and strife could have been prevented.”

“You mean to blame me?” Madrick asked. “I was a friend to you all those years.”

“You were the king, yet you acted a fool.”

“Esta, be kind.” Leif tried.

“Is it your child on the steps, Leif?!”

“It might as well be!” they rejoined, pulling back in offense. “I cared for Leanna, we both did, you know that. You had every opportunity to speak the truth, Esta, if not to him then to me. You might have told of what dangers were possible and I would have helped you.”

“You spent more time with my daughter than I did, Leif. Was I meant to offer you more of her unprompted? It was a family matter, in which you were not involved.”

“Would Leanna agree with that?” Lief asked.

Esta rose and marched to stand before them. “Do not speak of her that way.”

“Might we, though?” Madrick asked, holding a hand up for her attention. “You say we were not family, fine, but I loved that child. It matters not if you knew it because I know she did. Still, I have languished in solitary imprisonment for years, all for her sake. She hath these many powers, yet I heard nothing of her for all this time. Did you?”

“Of course, I am her mother.”

“And I’m—! I thought she might have said something. She might have sought to know if I were well. If she had known—” He shook his head. “She had to have known.”

“I’m sorry, Madrick,” Esta told him.

“You had to have known as well, Esta,” he realized. “If you knew where to find Leif in Pavoline, then you must have known all. Did you speak of me to her? Did you suggest I might have wished to hear something— anything? If she had only spoken to me, perhaps we might made a plan. With all her powers, her friends, she might have helped me escape and we could have gathered the people in our favor. I could have—” He looked to Leif and stifled a cry, forcing his gaze back to Esta in his effort to keep away tears. “We could have lived our lives! Instead, what have we been all this time?”

“We have been waiting,” Isolda said, “and now the wait is over.” She started back toward Leanna, releasing again her dagger and holding it ready before her, but Madrick blocked her way.

“I will not allow it,” he said.

Isolda, impatient, plunged her ready dagger into her brother’s side.

“No!” Leif ran to him, catching him in their arms before he hit the stone below. Esta rushed to their side, grievances forgotten.

“Stop her,” Madrick breathed as Leif cried over him. “Please.”

Isolda took her dagger up the steps, and Guiomar now caught her arm, halting her as he watched the scene below and startling the queen into doing the same.

“Keep your strength,” Leif whispered to Madrick.

Madrick chuckled, then winced at the pain it caused. He simply shook his head.

Leif started to cry. “I began to hope we would have our time,”

“As did I.” Madrick lifted his arm, forcing himself to bear the aching, and he brought Leif’s cheek into his hand.

“Do not leave me when I have just found thee again.”

“I am so sorry. If I had spoken sooner, or been more cautious later—”

Leif brought their lips to his, silencing the apology with a kiss. As they parted, only just, Leif whispered, “I shall always love thee, Madrick Oxbien.” Then, with the smallest smile, the former Crown of Masor, King for the Commoner, Madrick Oxbien II was gone.

Leif bent over him in agony and Esta placed a hand on their shoulder.

Guiomar turned to Isolda, astonished. “You killed him. Why?”

“He was in the way.” Isolda tried to pull her arm free of the king’s grasp, but he held only tighter.

“You are mad,” he said.

Her brow pulled into itself in bewilderment. “You killed your own father for no greater offense.”

“Yes. We are both mad, Isolda, and it ends today.” He pushed her a step away.

She laughed – “You are being silly” – and shook her head. She raised her blood-soaked dagger and started for Leanna once more. Guiomar called to his rising knights.

“Seize the queen at once!” He ordered, and at this Isolda stopped and looked to him aghast, holding her hands high.

“Don’t be absurd, Guiomar.” She flashed a glare to the approaching knights. “Touch me and die,” she told them. The king dismissed them, content the queen would hear him.

“I shall not have you kill her, Isolda.”

“I do not understand,” she said. “For what other reason have I resided in your castle these several years? I swore I would not leave until she was buried, and now she can be! Do not falter in our purpose now, King.”

Guiomar’s chest grew tight, ashamed to confess the truth of his changed heart, so he spoke in partial incompletes. “Perhaps she can be of use,” he said.

“We shan’t ever control her, especially now,” Isolda reminded him.

“I no longer wish for her death.”

“Then your wishes have strayed from sense! Find the rational course.”

“It isn’t right.”

“What, murder? When has the morality of it strayed you in the past?”

“WE are not right, Isolda!” Guiomar bellowed, banging a fist to his chest and restraining new tears.

The queen stood back, stunned. “The page worked her magic on you, didn’t she? She hath troubled your mind.”

“No, Isolda,” he said softly. “She hath cleared it.”

Isolda growled. “I want her destroyed.”

“Please. This destruction, this terror in our world, I have been its cause; myself, and this burning rage within. This youth, this page, is the only thing in all the world that may yet help me make recompense. See those who have loved her,” he looked to Esta and Leif who still knelt over Madrick’s body. “Perhaps I could feel such things as them one day. I shall not see her die.”

“You are a fool, Guiomar. I thought you were not so soft-hearted.” Isolda raised her dagger once more and began to strike down, but Guiomar caught her arm. Her fiery breath dripped onto him in disgust, and Esta looked up to him now, watching, terrified as he spoke.

“I would that the violence be ended, but understand me, I shall kill you myself in one last vicious act before allowing you to harm Leanna Page.”

Esta let go of some of her fear and turned back to Leif who now lifted Madrick to carry him away from the angry scene toward a more loving place to be laid down. The mother, neither wanting to leave Leif to their task alone nor to leave Leanna, now watched as Leif buckled under the weight of their love and their grief and, running to their side, trusted the changed king to protect her child and gave herself as support for Leif, holding their arm and following them from the courtyard. Isolda now tore her arm away from Guiomar with a scoff, and paced in bemusement down the steps, watching a moment as her brother was carried out. She turned back to the king in fury. “Is that what you wish for? That is the fate of a king who puts his trust in Leanna Page.”

“No, Isolda, that is the fate of a loved one who is doomed from birth by a cold-hearted relation. Let us seek to be better for our newer, younger relations, if for no one else.”

“I only seek better for Masor, as you have always known. You have your heir now, and I have mine. What is to prevent this page from obliterating the legacies we meant to ensure? I want nothing of her in my kingdom, and no wall could keep out her kind.”

Guiomar looked down to Leanna, in awe and yet fearful of her, even as she slept. He returned to Isolda, with a proposition. “What if she was within it?”

“What?”

He nodded, deciding. “The wall is complete save for the short length which is to close it atop the Gwahanu straight. Let her be placed within it,” he declared. “We shall cage her, and have her carried to the River. The cage shall be dropped in the epicenter of the wall with stones below, stones around, and at last we shall place the final stones above. She will be buried, so you – and your heir – may return to Masor. At length, she may die, or perhaps she shall live on into eternity. Either way, this shall be truly finished.”

“None of her powers shall be prevented from affecting us.”

“Regardless, that is my only offer. If you wish to challenge it, you challenge me, Isolda.”

She squinted, studying him. “She hath changed you, Guiomar.”

“Perhaps, in time, she will reach you as well.”

Isolda scoffed. “That will never be. But if burying her alive is the only way you will allow us to finish this, then make it so, and do so with haste. Have the cage built quickly, hither around her as she sleeps. Every side of it shall be fastened in place, for it need never open.”

Guiomar nodded and set his knights to work, closing off the courtyard to any others who might interfere.

****

As Leanna slept, the remaining magic from the Aldorian water flooded to her back and healed her where she was last struck. With the complete absence of pain, she was sure, when she saw the sunlight, that she was awaking into a better day. Her eyes unclosed completely and came into focus. It was then that she saw the bars. She jolted up and, in an effort to stand, banged her head against more iron. She held a hand over the pain and scanned the courtyard which now teemed with knights, servants, and masons, all scurrying to their tasks. She studied her cage and discovered it was unopenable. Her gaze now fell on the carriage behind her that was in wait in front of the castle steps, decorated in the banners of Masor. Isolda and Guiomar stood before it, watching her now that she had stirred.

Release me, she commanded them, but they made no sign of having heard. Servants now took up the palanquin that held her and she begged them to stop, to aid her, to free her! but they pretended they could not hear, and completed their task of placing her atop a wagon that faced toward the courtyard entry. She sought her mind for Kennedy and whispered to her an apology, but, after all the years, she could not bring herself to ask again for a dangerous rescue, and even wondered now if an escape from these particular bars was possible. In her anger and grief, Kennedy said nothing in response. Leanna put aside that particular heartache and now glared once more to the royals. Suddenly afeared, she saw that there would be no altering the course they had put her on. She caught a distasteful glance from a passing knight and endeavored, in her pride, to now face her unknown fate with stoic strength. She crossed her legs in front of her and sat tall, resuming the meditative stance that once had brought her peace of mind, although merely pretended at the peace now as the fear and fury of her capture pounded within her. Finally, she held Guiomar’s gaze with a threatening gravity, then took a deep breath, and closed her eyes.

“Fear her not,” Isolda whispered to the king. “She shall now be hidden, buried away, evermore and into eternity.”

Guiomar did not stir, nor remove his gaze from the dreamer he had caged. His countenance merely softened from anguish into awe. “No, Isolda,” he now replied. “In truth, I do not believe she shall.” He turned away without a glance to the queen, and stepped into his own carriage behind that from Masor, leaving Isolda alone to settle into her torment.

At the end of a week, the cavalcade – half colored in the fashion of Pavoline and half in that of Masor – completed its journey down the main road, arriving now at the Gwahanu strait. Esta and Leif, being prevented from returning to the courtyard, had quickly managed to loosen the tongue of one who explained to them the royals’ intention and, with ever increasing grief, had decided to follow in the path of the procession. They had each filled small packs in their homes then followed the train by foot together, staying some distance from the royals but arriving at the strait with the lot of them. The Masorian carriages continued across the bridge then stopped once fully in the land of Masor. Isolda and Guiomar emerged from their respective carts and stood, each on their own soil, looking on as the masons demolished the old bridge and placed several steel supports into the River, securing the stones atop them and connecting the bottom layers of both kingdoms’ halves of the wall.

All present remained there for many days as the stones were built up to just under half the wall’s full height. They remained there more days still to see Leanna lifted atop into the center and the stones secured around every face of her cage. Since the courtyard, the young woman had persisted in keeping her eyes unopened, and still now she continued on with them shut, not suffering herself to look any of the builders in the eye as they closed her off from the light. When the sunset of the following week flooded the horizon with deep yellows and reds, and the pink and purple streaks of clouds lay strewn across the Sky, Isolda and Guiomar gave their last collective order, commanding the final stone be placed atop the wall.

The last builders climbed down their ropes and set foot on the ground. They set fire to the ropes and watched them turn to ash, leaving the structure unscalable. No one cheered. All, on either side, simply watched it for a time, unmoving. At length, owls sounded their calls and the monarchs commanded their now separate cavalcades to return to their respective castles. When Pavoline’s carriages had gone, and even after Leif had similarly taken their leave, Esta remained, now completely alone in the vast landscape. She tentatively approached the wall, staring into it, imploring Leanna to speak with her, but the child did not. She could not, not now. As yet, she could not even bring herself to unclose her eyes.

Daylight broke the next morn, and the mother awoke, having slept outside next to the wall, hoping in vain to have met her daughter in a dream. She sat up and marveled at the mountain of stone which stood before her, pernicious now as it fought against the light. Esta began to cry and reached into her satchel for a handkerchief. Instead she found her old diary hidden away in a forgotten sleeve. She removed it and opened to a page of the distant past, gazing now at the pressed ivy leaf Byrdon had offered her the day that they met. She looked at the leaf and remembered he had told her it might direct them together and ever homeward. Esta wiped away a tear and smiled, presuming that, for so many years, the leaf must have done what he had hoped. She looked again to the wall, and thought that perhaps the leaf could work so again. She took it from its page and stood, walking to the very bottom of the wall, just before the stones turned and crossed the Gwahanu. She hesitated a breath, then knelt to the bottom most stone, placing the leaf upon it.

“May it bring thee home,” she whispered.

Esta began to walk off down the road then stopped, gasping between cries as she finally heard the voice of her daughter flood her mind. The mother smiled, hearing for the first time her own child singing the lullaby of her youth.

'…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.'

Esta sent Leanna love enough to last the ages and the dreamer felt the affection seep through the space and stones. Within her tomb, Leanna’s heart began to pound, beating steadily in determined passion, and, although surrounded by impenetrable darkness, the Nebulous Woman unclosed her eyes.

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Thank you for reading The Legend of Leanna Page: Volume One - A Beginning. If you loved it, please share it around. Also, make sure to subscribe… because Leanna will return!