Chapter 19: Capture Idealism

I’m in love! Oooh, it’s good feeling, isn’t it? Happy song and happy dance time! Lalalalalalala! And I feel like I’m going to sing happiness eternally! It’s odd. Love is wordless. It can’t be expressed with language. Well, it can. There are loads of poets and writers and bards who sing soppy love ballads. But they don’t capture love at all! They capture idealism. They’re false. I don’t think they’ve actually been in love. Not proper love, anyhow. 

Simone is wonderful. I’ve just got back from a rendez-vous with her. I took her to a tea rooms and paid for her, of course. This was the first time that I have been with Simone without her being chaperoned. Of course, I didn’t take advantage or anything. That’s not me. But it was much more relaxed. We were much more open with each other. And it was wonderful! Just wonderful.

Father had his candidate interview for the position of mayor of Reliance today. All very exciting. Mother’s very proud, of course. She’s out at a function with her ladies. The social scene. It’s amazing how much politics is to do with the wives. Not about the manifestos or policies at all, really. It’s just a popularity contest. 

And I have my part to play too. My relationship with Simone has to be a clean slate. Nothing sordid. And I have my first book being published next week - very exciting! Barely eighteen and I already on my way to being a prominent member of society. And to have Simone at my side! Fantastic! We have arranged to meet at another date prior to the presentation of the mayoral candidates. It is almost a dead-cert that Father will at least get that far, so to have Simone at my side before the town… I’d be dead proud. 

In other news of life (it’s all going so well, you know! I feel invincible, immortal!), I keep on finding out new things about the stories that I read and tell to everyone. I mean, they are just fairy stories. We grew up with them. But I have odd suspicions about them. They seem connected… I’ve been to other areas of the kingdom: where Etrisse used to stand, the eastern forests, and to the kingdom of Binon. And I hear new, different tales. But they all similar. Not thematically, necessarily. And not morally. But they all have a feature in common. A crown. An enchanted crown. They might have different powers, do different things, but there is often an enchanted crown.

It interests me. I want to delve further. I hear they have good stories in Thripp. So if I can I’d love to travel there. It’d be great to take Simone with me. Maybe as my wife! That was rather a big jump, wasn’t it! We’ve only been courting for a few weeks. If that! We shall see. It’s all very vague at the moment. 

Until next time, Journal, when I shall be out of breath from singing my happy song and worn out from dancing my happy dance! 

Sam

__________

The doorbell rings and Jen is startled, her heart suddenly pounding. She puts Sam’s diary to one side and leaves her bedroom. She looks down the stairs at the front door. Several ominous silhouettes loom behind it. One of the silhouettes moves an arm and the bell rings again. Jen cannot hear anything from Morab wherever he is. She slowly descends down the stairs. The bell rings again for the third time. Jen does not speed up. She reaches the door, unlocks the bolts, turns the key, rotates the doorknob ninety degrees and pulls it towards her. The sunlight streams in and the silhouettes vanish for several seconds as Jen’s eyes adjust to the noon brightness. 

Jen’s eyes stop squinting and come back into focus. Standing before her are three ladies, grinning giddily. “Can I help you?” Jen asks. She means to sound polite but it just sounds groggy.

“We saw that you were new to the neighbourhood and we wanted to make you feel welcome. We all know how difficult it is to move to a new area,” one of the ladies explains, smiling.

“Your kindness is much appreciated but you should go and never call again. Thank you.” And Jen closes the door abruptly and begins to return to her room.

“They could have helped you.”

“Leave it.”

“I won’t.”

“Leave me alone, Sharon. Go for a walk or something.”

“I’m not going to leave you.”

“How noble,” Jen replies drily. “How can you actually help though? How can you stop Morab from hitting me and hurting me and raping me? You can’t. You can only watch on. And that’s awful.”

“It’s not my fault.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I just don’t know what to do.”

“I don’t think turning away kind and interested women is going to help you escape.”

“Stop it, Sharon! I don’t know what I can do! Whatever I do, Morab will follow me! A women with no choice but to wear an enchanted Crown can never disappear. There will always be rumours and gossip. And I’ll become a legend. A myth.”

“Then take the Crown off yourself and be done with it!” Sharon barks.

“I can’t. Because I want to live. And I like living with you. I don’t want to condemn us both to darkness and nightmare.”

“But if living is a nightmare…”

“It will sort itself out. Life always does. Tergen will return and save me.”

“But when will that be? He doesn’t know where we are!”

“Freedom is worth the wait.” Jen picks up her book and begins to read again. “Sam was always so happy. He was happy all the time I knew him and he’s happy in his diaries. He keeps me going through all of this. He may be dead, but he keeps me alive and he gives me hope.”

“And I feel sick. Your sweet monologuing about Sam is nauseating! Enough with your soundbite speeches and see the reality. You are being abused and you are holding out for some hero to come and save you. A hero who probably will never come.”

“You’re wrong. Tergen will come.”

“What about those women? Why can’t they save you?”

“They don’t understand.”

Sharon screams with frustration. “You are Impossible!” And she storms away.

Chapter 17: Stale In Her Mouth

They were sitting in the window of a coffee parlour in the up-market district of the city of Reliance, Bianca paused for breath and took a sip from the bone china cup. She gently replaced it upon the saucer and then returned, full speed, into her recount of the morning’s gossip to her friend, Kiera. “And then she said that it is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a large fortune must be in want of a wife. Sure a rich bachelor wants a wife, but I’ll tell you this for free: a married man in possession of a large fortune must be in want of a mistress.”

“So you still think that Richard is having an affair?”

“I do. Anyway, have you heard that the town house of Phrellovane Way is lived in again?”

“The House of Joy?”

“Fire burning, candles lit. They’ve got the milkman leaving bottles too.”

“Sam and Simone aren’t back, are they?”

“I don’t think they would. Not after… you know…”

The bell to the coffee parlour chimed and a third young lady rushed in. She sat down at the table with Bianca and Kiera, panting. She untied and removed her bonnet and placed it in her lap. Bianca called the waiter over. “A glass of water for our guest, please,” and then to the new arrival, “What on earth’s the fuss, Emily?”

“It’s about the town house on Phrellovane Way.”

“How funny! We were just -”

“A princess lives there!”

__________

Dear Diary,

We have arrived in the city of Reliance, the sub-capital of Kingdom Faithful. Morab arranged for us a carriage and we hastily left Rypt. A few days later we arrived at the town house. It hasn’t been lived in for ages. Everything was dusty and there were cobwebs everywhere. Morab told me to clean everything up whilst he went into the city to make arrangements. He came back in the middle of the night, drunk. Arrangements? Sharon and I had a great deal to say about that. But, only between ourselves, of course.  

Whilst I was cleaning though, I discovered lots of things about the house and its previous owner. It turns out that Sam used to live here. And I think he was married. There are portraits and photographs of him and this woman all around the house. I spent most of that afternoon crying for Sam. And with the revelations all around the house, I keep on wondering what happened to his wife. Is she dead too? Did she die and that’s why Sam joined the Keepers? I want to go out and ask questions… But Morab has forbidden me. If the city people see me with this Crown on, then I’ll cause a big stir in society. Somebody saw me this morning - I popped out to bring in the milk bottles and there was a woman, dressed in all her finery, staring in astonishment at me.  I think I’ll keep that occurrence from Morab. 

I want to find out more about the house. And about Sam. He’s such an enigma. And not solely Sam. Both Morab and Tergen are very curious characters too. I need to understand them. What is it that drives them to find and protect these Crowns? 

Enough for now. I had best start to clean the dining room. Morab wants to turn it into his study, which means I will probably have to organize his bookshelves. Sam has a lot of books. Had a lot of books. I wonder why he had to leave them all behind. Did he think that he would return? Did he leave in a hurry? So many questions. I doubt I’ll ever find the answers. I’ll have to store his stuff in one of the disused upstairs rooms. There’s a room on the middle floor that’s locked. I so want to see what’s in there! House of Mysteries!! 

Until next time, Diary.

__________

“Do you think we should leave our calling cards and pay a visit?”

“That’s hardly the correct manner, Kiera. We have to leave an invitation to the next ball and introduce ourselves then,” Bianca scolded.

“Do you think she is aware of the history of the house?” Emily speculated.

“Who knows. No one’s lived in the house for years.”

“But it wasn’t announced as being for sale, which suggests that the princess knows Sam and that she has his consent to stay there,” Emily continued.

“Do you think that she could be that girl?” asked Kiera

“But didn’t she… you know… die?”

“I heard that she was murdered by Sam and Simone.”

“Yes, but murder was never confirmed, was it?” Emily protested. “That’s just vicious rumours.”

“Enough with all this mystery!” Bianca exclaimed. “All we know is that Sam and Simone lived in the house with their daughter who vanished one night. Then they left. Rumour speculated that they had killed their own daughter. This princess probably has nothing to do with Sam, Simone or the missing daughter. What was her name again?”

The ladies thought for a minute, struggling to recall the name.

“Didn’t it begin with ‘g’?” Emily suggested. “Gina?”

“No. It began with ‘j’ and her name was -”

__________

“Jen!” Morab called up the stairs. “Get down here now! You call this kitchen clean? This morning’s breakfast things are still sitting on the side!”

Jen entered the kitchen. “It was established in the minutes of the last Keepers of the Crowns meeting that I would not be expected to clean up after you.”

“And you expect me to do it? I’m having to do Sam’s work on top of my own since he went and got himself killed!”

Jen bit her tongue at Morab’s harsh comment against Sam and said, “I’ll do Sam’s work for you.”

“You? Pah! Women are good for only one thing!”

“Cleaning? How dare you!”

“Make that two things,” Morab sneered. Jen’s retort ran stale in her mouth.

There was a heavy silence filled with fear and tension between the pair. “What’s the other thing?” she finally asked, staring straight into Morab’s dark, glinting eyes. There was a further silence. The pair held eye contact: Morab’s powerful, domineering, Jen’s frightened and quivering. 

Suddenly, Morab lunged at her. Simultaneously, Jen turned and fled, running out of the kitchen and into the musty, cluttered lounge. She knocked boxes over on her way past in a desperate attempt to prevent Morab from catching her. She dashed into the hallway and threw herself against the front door. She rattled the door handle, but Morab had previously locked it. She banged her fists against the door, but her attempts were futile. She turned around, petrified and hopeless. Morab was standing there, sturdy and strong, the staircase behind him leading into dark oblivion. The stained glass window above the front door showed a red rose that cast a dangerous, scarlet light across his face. He was menacing, his heavy breathing like that of an enraged bull. Jen turned back to the door and began screaming as Morab advanced. 

And then his strong hand was over her mouth and she was silent despite her attempts. And with his other hand, he grabbed her hair and began to pull her up the staircase. And Jen could not fight back for her hands were holding the Crown to her head, to prevent it from falling off and causing imminent death.

__________

“No. It began with ‘j’ and her name was Joy. Because she brought such joy to their lives. I remember Simone telling my mother once. That’s why it’s been called the House of Joy.”

Chapter 15: All In His Stride

Dear Diary,

Sharon just told me that Sam is dead. 

…

I don’t really know what to think about this. It’s a very surreal situation. I’m sad, but distanced from it all. I wish I wasn’t. I wish I was more obviously affected. I feel a bit guilty for having not cried yet.

Morab got angry and trashed the front room. I tried to help. Not to trash the room, but with his dealing of the news. He accidentally pushed me and I fell to the ground. It’s nothing really. I’ve got a small cut on my left temple, but I’m sure he didn’t mean it. He’s just sad about Sam.

Sharon followed Sam to the Crowners of the Light meeting. She was concerned for him and wanted to make sure he’d be ok. But that didn’t work out so well… He was stabbed apparently. Right through the chest with a sword.

I just shivered and I feel a bit sick having written that. Sharon told me that they dragged his body out of the fortress and just chucked it… him into the empty moat. He of all people did not deserve that. 

He’s really the only person who’s been there for me. Mum and Dad were too busy looking after the business and Rosa to properly care for me. And I suppose I pushed people away from me, so I never received much love from the rest of the village. Apart from Maj. But after the whole incident after Rosa’s death and ReNay, there was only ever Sam. I miss him now. The first person I’ve ever really appreciated. I’ve kind of appreciated Maj, I suppose. He did a lot for me… But, I mean, Sam did so much. He saved me!

After ReNay had put the Crown on my head, I went really mad. I can remember that I was screaming and shouting. I was writhing my hands together because I couldn’t take the Crown off but I wanted to. I was a frenzy. I fell off the stage but Sam caught me and he whisked me away from the town centre, down a dark alley. I can’t personally recall why no one else saw us, or why no one followed us. Sam told me that whilst I was rushing about onstage, ReNay and the hooded men started to fight the Bridgeside Brigade and the police, and all the townsfolk ran back to their homes so that they wouldn’t get caught up in the feud. I suppose that in all the pandemonium, Sam and I went unnoticed. Sam and I watched as the small group of Crowners slaughtered the Bridgeside Brigade. The Brigadier fell to the ground, groaning. I saw his wife dart out of their house, running to her dead husband. And as she knelt beside her husband, she too was murdered mercilessly. I fell to my knees, sobbing. I was crying even before then, but I had reached a new level of raw emotion. 

I can’t remember how much it all went on for, but I know that Sam’s hand was on my shoulder the whole time. And… Yes! I grabbed his knees, hugging them. Holding him close. Then he knelt down beside me and he told me that he would look after me and keep me safe. He told me that he’d take me to a place where I would be safe and where no one could ever hurt me. And I believed him. His voice felt honest. In that moment, I trusted him. They were the first words he said to me, and I knew that he was my friend. I knew that he was someone special and new. This must be beginning to sound a bit like a tribute. A rubbish one at that. I’ll just end with the fact that he was there for me at a time I needed him - a guardian angel.

He explained everything to me about the Crowns and about the Crowners and about the Keepers of the Crowns. He told me all about Morab and Tergen. And he talked all about his childhood. And he always asked the right questions at the right times. He just seemed to get me.

And then there was Sharon. She’s been reading over what I’ve been writing and is somewhat annoyed that I haven’t mentioned her once. I can’t really remember first seeing Sharon. I was so frantic when I was first ‘crowned’ (a term that sounds horribly ominous) that I didn’t really notice her presence. It wasn’t until Sam and I were sneaking to the river and we were hiding underneath the bridge that I was really made aware of her. This dazzling blonde woman who I didn’t recognise. She was annoying at first. A bit of a pest. She wants me to retract that but I won’t. This diary is supposed to be an accurate account of true events. Sam told me to sleep. He must have thought I was being a complete schizophrenic. Speaking to something that he couldn’t see and just generally being a bit insane. I settled down and went to sleep, with Sam and Sharon watching over me. The next morning, Sam hired a boat and the three of us rowed up the river, right until we got to the waterfall. It did not occur to me that I knew that, and the trip would be a wasted one. And so we sailed back. Sam took it all in his stride, laughing at himself. And so we walked. 

We walked for so many days, but Sam ushered me along and kept me going. And I got used to Sharon talking too. That was weird. Especially when Sam and Sharon wanted to speak to each other. I just became a relay girl, relaying what one said to the other. That gets frustrating. But we’re really getting on now. 

We arrived at the town of Rypt and we walked through the suburbia. It all felt very clean and green. Very rich, nothing like the dirtiness of Bridgeside. I remember feeling embarrassed about my background. Anyway, we finally ended up outside number 14, Druid’s Grove, which is just off Rose Street. A detached house with a well-kept front garden and a bay window in the front room. 

He introduced me to the Keepers of the Crowns. I’m scared about how the Keepers will carry on without him. Tergen is out in the field and is still clueless about everything that’s gone on. And Morab is totally freaked out. I suppose he’s terrified to even contemplate what the future holds. All his plans and long-term schedules are ruined.

I actually wonder whether his anger is for the loss of Sam’s life or for the inconvenience it has caused. But that’s between you and me, Diary. And Sharon (who insists on inclusion). 

For Sam, I miss you. And thank you for saving me. 

Dear Diary,

Morab has just told me to pack up. Our position has been compromised and we are fleeing to a safe house. Seeing as I don’t have any of my own stuff, I have filled a bag with some of Sam’s clothes and books. I don’t want them to get lost or damaged. All his work should not go to waste. 

Sharon says I should mention that Morab dragged me upstairs by my hair. I’ve only put it to appease Sharon. Morab is under a lot of pressure, and I feel like I’m in the way. He’ll calm down once we are in the safe house.

Chapter 13: Steals the Focus

The bell strikes noon. It’s resounding clang echoes around the empty corridors of the abandoned fortress. The grey, cold stones send the harsh noise reverberating through chambers and hallways. You let go of the bellrope and make your way up the tower, climbing the cool spiral staircase. You reach the top and a warm breeze rushes through your hair as it makes its way from archway to archway. Circling the great bell, you look out at the panoramic view of the surrounding countryside. There are fields and trees, a couple of small villages scattered about. It’s a very simple yet pleasant landscape. You filter them out of your focus as you begin to search for movement. 

You begin to notice figures of people both walking and riding on horseback across the verdant land, and horse-drawn carriages on the dusty roads drawing up dust clouds behind them as they grow nearer and nearer to the fortress. You smile and begin the descent back down, making for the entrance to meet and greet everyone as they arrive. 

You have spoken to the members as they have arrived, making polite conversation. But despite the news that they are sharing, you are secretly scanning the room for a particular figure. But it is too busy. Too many people hustling and bustling and you give up. He will be made known soon enough. You join the stream of people and enter the great hall where everyone is taking their ascribed places at the long table. You are nowhere important. Just near the end with everyone else of little consequence. Near the top of the table is GRP, the current leader. Around GRP are those who have served the longest, those with most to contribute and him who takes the minutes. 

Looking up and down the table, most of the faces are familiar, there are some new ones. New recruits. But out of all the faces, one of them lifts out, steals the focus. He is sitting just a couple of spaces down the row from your own seat. You watch him. He catches your eye and he smiles, a little nervously. You look away. The GRP rises and everyone sits up a little straighter in anticipation of his opening words. “We shall commence the meeting after the society song,” he announces. Everyone stands and begins to sing in unison.

This world is cast in gloom,

Sits in the hand of impending doom.

Roaring clouds of death and pain

Approach, approach across the dying plain.

We need to fix this land,

Pull it out of the toxic quicksand.

We need to save this world

Before further evil is unfurled.

We hear the kingdom’s bells a-ringing!

We know to gather, our news we’re bringing.

The fate of all rests upon our story,

Us revolutionaries will find our glory!

For this reason, to stop this blight,

We, the Crowners of the Light,

Will save the world. This will be our crowning glory!

As everyone else sits down, the GRP remains standing. “Prior to any item on the agenda, I shall hand over to one of our newest recruits. Over to you, Reeder.” GRP sits down and you stand up.

“Good afternoon, Crowners. I find it a great privilege and, indeed, a pleasure to be welcomed so warmly by you all and I look forward to continuing work with you. However, I must inform you that within my short time here, I have uncovered a mole.” You pause for effect as everyone around the table gasp and shift uneasily in their chairs. “Through a series of letters, I have learned much about a rival group called the Keepers of the Crowns whose aim is to undo all our hard work. This information came to me by one of its three members, who is here with us today.” Everyone around the table looks at each other suspiciously. You look to GRP, who is listening with intrigue, stroking his chiseled chin. “I have the letters exchanged between the two of us with me here.” 

From your satchel, you withdraw the letters and hold them up for all to see. “A few choice phrases for you,” you say, thumbing through the paper leaves. “ ‘Very early on in the history of the Crowns, a secret society was created. They called themselves “Crowners of the Light”, which makes me personally feel sick; they could not be any less stereotypical of a secret society.’”. There are noises of disgruntled Crowners from around the table. You go on: “ ‘They open with a ridiculously cringeworthy song.’” The sound of disgust grows in its volume and intensity. “ ‘I have infiltrated the Crowners of the Light for seven years now, enough time to be trusted and be fully made aware of their ultimate plans.’ The letter is signed: Sam,” you conclude, placing the wad of letters on the table before you. 

Heads turn to the man who smiled at you just minutes before. But there is no smile on his face now. Just sheer embarrassment. He looks at you. You stare back, coldly. Sam stands up, his head now bowed. “Thank you, Reeder,” GRP says, gravely. You nod your head respectfully and sit down. “Your contribution is much appreciated. As for you, Sam, have you anything to say for yourself?” Sam shook his head slowly. “You have violated the code of the Crowners of the Light, and betrayed the very essence of our being. The pain for your crime is death. Do you understand?”

“I do,” Sam says, strangely strongly.

“Reeder,” GRP says. You rise. “Would you do the honours?”

“I beg your pardon.”

Somebody passes you a broadsword.

“Reeder, kill him,” GRP ordered.

You step out from the table, as does Sam, resigned to his fate. You stand before each other, staring. You stab Sam. He winces and staggers back, falling to the ground. You watch Sam die by your hand. “Thank you, Reeder. You have done good."

The bell strikes one.

Chapter 11: Getting Too Dark

I am on the road again. Barely two days worth of rest, and I am back on my feet again. It’s worse this time… Escorting Jen back to the Druid’s Grove, I have been spoiled with a taste of company. Now I am alone, I yearn for someone to talk with. That’s why I am writing this letter to you. Because I’m lonely. I’m sat here, under a tree, with no living being within eyesight. Oh wait, I can make out a solitary sheep on yonder hill. I am even reading this letter aloud as I write just so I have a voice to hear. It will be another two days before I arrive at a town where I can post this, so this will become somewhat of a mundane journal. I apologise, friend.

Evening now. Another tree, another addition to the letter. I’m setting up camp, got some sausages to fry. Morab was very generous this time. I have also found some wild potatoes and garlic. What a feast! Shame it isn’t the strawberry season. That would have finished off the meal quite nicely. I was going to write another myth about one of the Crowns, but it’s getting too dark for me to write now. Epic time-keeping fail. My shelter isn’t brilliant; I do hope it doesn’t rain.

It rained. Soggy pages. Sorry. Maybe they’ll have dried by the time you get this, but even then the ink might have run and the paper will be that much firmer and crinklier, if you know what I mean… I have a long leg of my journey to get through today so I won’t be taking substantial breaks. I have an epic ravine to cross today. That one with the crocodiles at the bottom? I shouldn’t really say where I’m going. But it’s written now, and I don’t like blotting pages. Especially letters. 

Ok. So it is raining madly again. I have found a cave at the top of the ravine to shelter in. And I thought what better opportunity to write a story than now. This is a story about a Crown that relates to a ravine. Possibly the one I am embarking across now. I just got a shudder. That shudder when you are at the location where history has been made. Exciting… 

The story! Unfortunately, I do not have my sources with me so I cannot confirm whether this is in fact the same ravine, but I do know that they come from a journal kept from a man who guided treks across the ravine and surrounding area. He was a professional and rigorous with his journal keeping that was written up at the end of each day. Thank goodness for people like him, else us scholars would be half-crazed! I’ll let you know whether it’s the same ravine when I return to the Grove. Then I might return to the ravine to perform a more in-depth study. 

Anyway, here’s the account.

They had set out early that morning, all kitted out and prepared. The guide, Huette, was taking just one person with him. This man had paid a lot of money for this expedition, and it wasn’t even a particularly difficult one. Indeed, the only difference was that this man wanted to abseil down the ravine at a particular location - next to where the sun passes through the Frigid Rock as the sun approaches its zenith.

Huette knew well the Frigid Rock but had never been there when at noon, he had confessed. The man’s name was Brynnd. He was an awkward-looking man, curious features, but Huette knew not to question people’s appearances. Especially if they were physically superior to him, and Brynnd looked strong.

The pair journeyed to the Frigid Rock and waited until noon. Huette admitted later that he was skeptical that anything would happen. But, his cynicism was disproved as the sun reached its zenith and the rock emitted a beam of light onto the ground some forty metres away from where they were sitting. Later, Huette would discover that the Frigid Rock was artificial and bore a system of mirrors inside it. 

Having discovered where they were to abseil down, Huette started to set himself up to do the deed. However, he was challenged by Brynnd. “You are my responsibility,” Huette explained. “If anything happens to you, I am liable to charges from your family and my reputation would be ruined.”

“I have paid a lot of money for you to help me. And what is down there is mine. I will not risk you stealing what is rightfully mine.” 

“You are a treasure seeker?”

“Something like that. Harness me up.”

Huette reluctantly did so, and as he did Brynnd took out of his pack a fine crown. It was a small tiara with embedded sapphires, which shimmered and sparkled in the sunlight. Huette did not enquire. As a man of principle (and mild fear of Brynnd), he believed that it would be best not to ask.

Brynnd was lowered down the side of the ravine slowly and carefully, and everything was going well. Brynnd shouted up to announce that he had safely landed on a small ledge. Huette heard no more from Brynnd. There was a silence for quite a while, and then a scream and then Huette saw Brynnd fly into view and down, down, down into the ravine. 

When they found Brynnd’s body downstream, there were mysterious scratches on his forehead. His crown was missing. 

Huette could not understand what had caused this, but he suspected that there was a quake of sorts that created a great surge of water that swept down the ravine and that Brynnd would have fallen into. Huette suspected that the quake caused Brynnd to fall. The torrent of water in question is reported to have also swept away a village from the map. 

Huette was imprisoned for life under suspicion of murder, though no one ever came forward claiming to be related to Brynnd. Huette died in prison an old and lonely man.

I am afraid that there are more tragic stories than happy ones when it comes to the Crowns. I do not doubt that Brynnd’s crown was indeed one of ‘our’ Crowns. Unfortunately, I am unable to identify it. But I am going to put this next on my to-do list. This is reported to have happened eight hundred-ish years ago. Can’t be specific without my notes! So not too long after Hunn’s time, possibly. 

Well, I am going to set off again - it has stopped raining. I am going to have quite a few weeks in the town (no locations, remember!) before the Crowners of the Light meeting. It’ll be nice to have some time to myself! 

This afternoon, I saw human civilization for the first time in two days! You have no idea how happy that made me! Must keep going though. This is just short note so you can understand how important a thing it is to me! Good weather now. Typical.

Chapter 10: The Challenge Was Rejected

Keepers of the Crowns Monthly Meeting Minutes

Date: The fiftieth day of Riff

Attended by: Morab, Tergen, Sam, Jen, Sharon

Chair: Morab

Minutes taken by: Tergen

Agenda:

Further enquiries in Bridgeside.

Crowners of the Light Biannual meeting

Jennifer’s Position within Keepers of the Crown

_____

Further enquiries in Bridgeside.

Due to the tragic deaths of the Bridgeside children Angus and Rosa, further enquiries are required to be carried out in the town. This role will involve looking into the discovery of the Crown by the young man Maj, the cave in which it was found, and wherever the search will take them. 

Morab suggested that this position be taken by Tergen. Although the position was formerly filled by Sam, recent events have changed circumstances. This decision by Morab was contested by Sam, but the challenge was rejected. 

Tergen will leave for Bridgeside from the Druid’s Grove in a fortnight. Contact must be made to the Druid’s Grove within six weeks before he is assumed dead and further plans will be made to fill the absence.

Crowners of the Light Biannual meeting

The Crowners of the Light’s biannual meeting will be held on the 77th of Riff. Sam shall maintain his position as a mole. He shall attend and feed the Crowners of the Light with false information regarding the Crown of the Fire Elemental. All documents have been forged and provided by Tergen. 

Sam will report back with any other information provided for by the Crowners of the Light. An alibi has also been provided for his presence at Bridgeside should ReNay or any other Crowner present at Bridgeside enquire. 

Jennifer’s Position within Keepers of the Crowns

The Keepers of the Crowns are happy to welcome Jennifer [Jen] and Sharon [the spirit of the Crown of Immortality] to their number. Jen’s role within the company is yet to be defined. However, her connection to the Crown of Immortality makes her a valuable asset and a due to her life force being connected to the Crown as a consequence of Sam’s failure, it is our duty to care for and provide for Jen. 

Sam added that Jen will also bring a female viewpoint and attitude towards our mission. 

Jen noted that as the only female, she refuses to be expected to cook, to clean and be the “mum” of the grove. This is a reasonable request. 

Next Meeting: To be officially announced, but it is likely to be on Sam’s return.

Chapter 9: Shoot the High Horse

Dear Diary, (I cannot believe that I just wrote that, but I don’t know how else to start a diary)

You know when you read books and all these amazing things happen to people and it sounds really exciting? Well, they’re liars. It isn’t exciting. It’s scary, confusing and it all takes place in a very average kind of a way. When I was walking here with Sam, it was just like a pleasant walk in the country. And now that I have arrived at the Druid’s Grove, it’s just like one of those awkward moments when you visit a stranger’s home and you need to make conversation with them over a cup of tea and a biscuit.

It’s like the circumstances are extreme, but the motions are just so normal and average. Even when I was locked in the dire, grey cell and when I was on the verge of execution in the town centre, it all seemed very… not mundane but natural. Maybe it’s because it’s me who is on the journey, not the rest of the world. Maybe it looks epic to everyone else because it is something that they can’t comprehend. But if it ever happens to them, it won’t seem epic to them. It’ll seem like just another thing in life. That isn’t to say that it’s not stressful - it has been. I’ve got Sharon shouting in my ear all the time, I’m homesick, missing my family and friends, I’m exhausted emotionally and physically, and I’m living with strangers. 

But all that stuff happened when I did a transfer to Arrashek when I was fifteen. Just instead of Sharon being a pain, it was Charity Wheeten. Yes, it’s a strain but it doesn’t feel epic like those storytellers would have you believe. Maybe it’s just me. 

Morab told me that writing a diary would be helpful. It would help me to externalize my feelings and it would help them with their records. I think Morab likes the idea of lots of books, account, records, etc. And he told me to be honest, and I will be whether he likes it or not.

I don’t like Morab. He treats both Tergen and Sam appallingly - he talks to Tergen as though he’s deaf and has some kind of mental illness, and he patronizes Sam so much. He isn’t five, he’s in his thirties and perfectly capable. I’ve really grown to like Sam. I wasn’t sure about him at first. I thought he was pretty lame. He annoyed me and really got on my nerves. But we spent a lot of time together walking here, and I can now see him for who he really is. He’s lovely. He’s sweet and a little inarticulate. He’s caring and innocent and child-like. I put that down to the treatment he’s received from Morab, who definitely needs bringing down a couple of steps. Someone needs to shoot the high horse he’s on. 

I don’t know what to expect from the future. It’s so unclear and vague. But whatever happens I will be spending it with Sharon. I think we’re beginning to get somewhere. Our relationship is building more than being knocked down now. We’re beginning to understand what ticks us off and we act accordingly. My attitude to relationships has changed dramatically. The kindness shown to me from Sam has made me realise what a bitch I’ve been. Especially to Maj. I feel sorry for him. I was truly awful to him. And I would apologise if I could. But I won’t ever go back to Bridgeside. That life is over. My new life will be here in Druid’s Grove. Sounds epic, right? Not at all. All that has happened is that I have left home and am making my own way in the world. And everyone does that.

Speak again soon, Diary,

Jen.

Chapter 8: And She Walked Away

“Who the hell is this, Sam?” he shouted across the room. It was cosy; there was a fire, bookcases - lots of books - and lots of clutter. 

“My name is Jen, thank you very much,” Jen replied for herself. Sam pressed his lips against each other to keep silent.

“And what are you wearing?”

“A crown.”

“Sam?” the angry man addressed, firmly and fatherly.

“I can explain.”

“It had better be good. You left here promising to save this girl, and if it’s the Crown we believe it to be-”

“It is,” Sam interjected.

“Then you have failed.”

“At least she is safe from ReNay!”

“You will go to your study whilst I clear up your mess, Sam!” Morab snapped. Sam wanted to pipe up and argue back, but he decided it was best not to. He nodded, bowed to Jen and the other two Keepers of the Crowns, and disappeared from the room.

Jen watched Sam vanish away with pity. He was so young really. He was older than her, middle-aged, but Jen could see how he had been kept a child by the dominant figure, who was aging badly with a messy grey beard, and straggly, thinning hair.  He motioned to Jen to sit down in one of the comfy red armchairs. Jen smiled and sat down.

“And where do I sit?” Sharon piped up in Jen’s ear. 

“You’re not a physical presence though, are you? You don’t need a chair.”

“Still, it would have been nice if you had asked.”

Jen ignored her.

“Who were you talking to just then?”

“Sharon. She’s the spirit of the Crown, so Sam said.”

“Yes. He was probably right.”

“No, he was right.”

The man looked affronted, and his so-far-silent companion seemed scared. But the man continued had Jen remained silent. “My name is Morab. This is Tergen. Alongside Sam, we make up the Keepers of the Crowns.”

__________

I’m humiliated. Embarrassed. Morab just showed me up in front of Jen. I hadn’t even done anything wrong. Well, not really. I did say that I would save Jen, and I failed. But heroism is more difficult than it looks! And, you know, I never claimed to be a hero. Check my previous letters - you’ll see!

The worst part about it that I understand Morab’s disappointment in me. He’s been like a father to me, or, rather, I’ve been a son to him. He’s taught me and shaped me, and now I have let him down. 

Ugh. (I hate writing those kind of expressions but the situation really does call for it). Enough moping. Well, enough moping going into this letter. I know you want to be a Keeper of the Crowns, and it would be great if you could join with us. But things can get pretty tense at times. Bear that in mind.

So, another story. I have exhausted my material about the Crown of Immortality, so I will share with you my suspicions of what we believe another Crown holds the powers to. 

There was once a drought in the Kingdom of Arrashek. The fields were scorched and the rivers were bare. Livestock were dying and the people were starving. Queen Onte was sad for her country and she knew that something must be done. So she issued a challenge for all who heard it - to guards, to commoners and to mercenaries. And the challenge was this: to find some way to solve the drought problem in Arrashek. Whoever could complete this task would win ten acres of land each. The challenge inspired many, and the kingdom and its neighbouring lands were scoured for ways to bring prosperity back to the Arrashek. 

New agricultural techniques, the art of river diversion and a new crop, khit, that requires little water, were ideas proposed to Queen Onte and she was glad of them all. Arrashek slowly built itself back up from the dust and dirt. And the successful were rewarded with their ten acres. Arrashek was back on its feet. 

But then, one day, a young girl made an appeal to speak with Queen Onte. The girl was fourteen and went by the name Heres. She approached the queen with bare feet and ragged clothing. Her face was dirty and her hair was messy. And yet on top of all this filth and dirt, Heres wore a crown. It was a crown that sparkled in the sun that shone through the glass dome in the ceiling. She curtsied to Queen Onte. “Your gloriousness,” Heres said, “I have come in response to your challenge. I can stop the drought.”

“How?” Queen Onte enquired, interested by the girl’s remark.

“With the click of my fingers, I can summon the rain. With a blink of my eyes I can bring water to the surface. With the stamp of my foot, I can flood the nation,” Heres explained with mysticism.

“You mean to say you can control the water elemental?” Queen Onte asked skeptically.

“Yes.”

“Then make it rain, girl,” the queen ordered, with more than a hint of mockery.

Heres smiled and bowed her head. Queen Onte rose from her throne and moved to beneath the glass dome. Dark clouds were rumbling across the skies. The scorching sun was hidden and a cool, refreshing shadow fell upon the kingdom.

Across the land, the people of Arrashek looked to the skies and cheered. It had been so long since they had seen a cloud, let alone a cloud that filled the sky. 

And then it rained. The dry earth soaked up the water, and the rivers and lakes began to fill up again. Both children and adults alike danced and sang in the rain, joyful for the precipitation. 

In the palace, Queen Onte was staring in amazement as the raindrops splattered against the glass dome. She turned to Heres. “Thank you, girl. Thank you. You have saved our land. How can you do this? Be you a witch or a spirit?”

“I can do this because I wear this Crown.”

“The crown grants you power over the water elemental?”

“It does. Please, your majesty, if you would grant me the ten acres you promised. My family are in dire need of a home.”

“Give me the crown.”

“I cannot.”

“Give it to me and I shall grant you the ten acres.”

“It is a family heirloom, your majesty. I must not be parted. My grandmother would be angry if she discovered I stole it and then allowed it to be taken.”

Queen Onte advanced. Heres ran. The guards stopped her. “If you will not give the Crown to me, then I will take it by force. You cannot come between me and what I desire, girl.” Heres bowed her head.

There was a great noise from Queen Onte’s private rooms from behind the back wall. Queen Onte turned around to look and was faced with her swimming bath water gushing through the door in the shape of a herd of stampeding wildebeest. Then, there was a great shatter as the glass dome above her head broke into a million pieces and a great torrent of water entered the throne room. The water wildebeest surged forward towards the queen and her guards. Queen Onte shrieked as the water engulfed her and knocked her and her guards off their feet.

Across the kingdom, the torrential rain was ceaseless and merciless. Rivers that had been stone dry ten minutes previous were now breaking their banks and flooding the land. The rain came down and floods went up. The khit, that had been growing so well, was ruined as the monsoon over-watered them and flooded their xylems and leaves. The people climbed onto their houses and up the hills to try and save their lives. 

And through all this, Heres protected herself in a bubble, the Crown securely on her head. After an hour of watery chaos, Heres stopped the rain and sent it away. The water receded back into the rivers and lakes and the land was returned. 

Queen Onte’s drowned corpse lay at Heres’ feet. “I am sorry,” Heres said. “But my grandmother would be so very angry if I lost this Crown.” And she walked away.

This story was recorded by the grand-daughter of an old woman who went by the name of Sereh, who I believe to actually be Heres. It is too much of a coincidence that it is her name reversed. Maybe she changed her name to protect herself. After the death of Queen Onte, there was a great hunt instigated by her son, Prince Agica, to find and punish the murderer of the late queen. 

Heres’ ancestral claim to the Crown intrigues me and I have desperately searched the records to try and verify the claim. But I have not been able to. Not that I doubt Heres. It’s just a right pain that I can’t trace her genealogy back to Hunn or one of her children. And there is no mention of Heres having a twin, although it is possible that the hag blood had thinned by her generation.

The thing is, I can’t think of any other way that Heres could get her hands on a Crown. She was a nobody. Her disheveled appearance and humble background pays tribute to this notion. And as families progress through the ages, many lose out of fortune and become nobodies. Heres could be a perfect candidate for being an ancestor of Hunn, bar the vague black holes. 

As for the Crown, it obviously appears to be a Crown that permits the wearer to control all water forces. And, unlike the Crown of Immortality, the Crown can be removed without endangering the wearer’s life. The Crown’s current location is unknown to me. I can only presume that the Crown is still being passed down from generation to generation. Whether the family ever use the Crown is unknown, but it is obviously a very quiet affair, else we’d have heard about it.

I desperately want to journey to Arrashek and do more research, search for more clues, but Morab won’t grant me permission. He says it is too far away and that it is not a necessary trip, so therefore I will not be going to Arrashek any time soon. I don’t know where I’m going to be heading off to next, or what I’m going to be studying. But I will keep you updated, friend.