Whisper

Whisper

The warm rain, which fell at precisely the same time every evening around eight bells, left the lush countryside of Erinmore refreshed. Most folks were inside, relaxing after a busy day. Candles could be seen through windows, where mothers were tucking in their over-excited young ones. Afterwards, these parents sat back to read, play cards, or simply just make plans for the coming day. Some entered their day's activities into well kept journals. They prided themselves on these exquisite volumes. Many were heirlooms, handed down from one generation to the next. The more fortunate folks' treasured books were artistically crafted in leather and meticulously inlaid with gold and silver; some even with precious gems. It was not uncommon to see a journal perched upon some sturdy desk in a quiet corner of a home, usually because it was too difficult to move it due to its heavy weight. Generations of entries were added monthly, some daily, especially when there were important or interesting happenings.

* * *

High above the populous village, built on the west side of the valley of Oran, proudly stood Sanctuary, a tall palace. It had four towers gracing that magnificent white marble structure.

On one of them, through an open window, the yellow glow of a candle could be seen. Behind a heavy oaken desk sat a woman who appeared to be no older than twenty-five or thirty, yet she was at best three centuries old.

Whisper didn't remember much of her childhood. Neither did she recall either of her parents. All she did remember though was being raised by Sha'anah, from whom she learned many things, especially magic. This was many years ago. The old lady was her mentor, but more than that, she was like a loving mother to her. Whenever Whisper thought of her, she felt a stabbing pain in her heart. It had been well over ninety years - maybe longer - but she still missed the one and only person who, with patience and perseverance, reared her. Sha'anah was well over eight hundred when she passed away peacefully in Whisper's arms. Many tears were shed that sad day.

Whisper lit another candle. The other one was threatened by a mild breeze that trespassed through the open window. The gust brought with it a hint of jasmine and other wonderful fragrant from below. Flowers and trees bloomed almost all years. Winter came without any baggage, only to stay a mere two or three weeks; just enough to get the children all excited. Sleds and homemade skis came out from where they collected dust, to briefly give joy to the young ones...and to a fair amount of those not so young. For those few weeks, school was out. Also all work stopped. That time period was always declared a holiday, dubbed 'Winter Sabbath'. Every year it fell on different days, depending much on the weather.

The huge tome in front of Whisper was not a hand-me-down. All the entries - hundreds upon hundreds - were all hers. She had no family or heirs. She'd never married, yet had her share of lovers. Many of them she left groveling in the dust, begging for her to stay with them longer. Yet she knew in the long run, she wasn't meant to be with anyone for any long length of time. She did, however, have three sisters.

It was only recently she had found out about them. The reunion came on her two hundredth birthday. The Erinmore town elders had thrown a ceremonial banquet such as never seen before in their history. An announcement was made with great pomp, presenting her with three sisters she didn't even know existed - all of them unique, and yet similar in many ways to her.

After making her last entry, she lay down her plume and went over to the window to draw the scarlet velvet drapes closed. Just as she was about to turn back to her bed, she heard a small voice outside say, "My, that is rude."

Taken by surprise, she quickly withdrew the curtain, and to her great delight, saw a friend she hadn't seen or heard from in ages. "Melissa! Melissa the Mischievous, how are you? Come in. Come in!" In stepped a tiny green clad person - a faerie, to be exact. Someone she had gotten to know well during the past half century.

Melissa flew in

Impressum

Verlag: BookRix GmbH & Co. KG

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 10.03.2015
ISBN: 978-3-7368-8270-6

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