There’s nothing about my work in progress that’s ready to see the light of day. I’m still not sure if I love my magic girl as much as I love the little sister of her knight in shining armor.
I’m putting it out there anyway. I’m giving you the first scene of the young adult fantasy book I’m trying to write. I still don’t even know for sure it’s what my Heavenly Father wants for me to write. All I know is that the story is there – in part – and so I’m getting it out of my head and onto the page.
“Unknown parentage and secret birth, blue-green diamonds shine; time to time and earth to earth, preserving the magical line.” The words reverberated around the room, echoing as if they were spoken from atop the nearby mountains.
Gram entered the central room of the cabin, checking the fire. Beside the fireplace, Aura stretched on her simple straw pallet. Gram’s brows were lowered and her jaw set in a firm line.
“Why me?” Aura asked. Gram just studied the girl, a stern look on her face. “It’s because of my blue eyes, isn’t it?”
“Why would you even think that?”
“I’m the only one that has them in the whole world.”
“No, the ancient mage had them.” Turning away, she added, “There is another mage who lives on the eastern shores who has blue eyes.”
“Gram, what did the words mean?” The girl’s whisper quivered.
Gram turned to look at Aura and then knelt beside her pallet. “It is the most ancient of prophecies.”
Aura wrinkled her brows and said, “But he said it was about me.”
Gram nodded, the play of the firelight casting strange shadows over her grim features. “This isn’t a small matter and I don’t want you to speak of it to anyone.”
Aura nodded, sitting up and hugging her knees to her chest. “I don’t understand what it means.”
With a sigh, Gram said, “No one knows who your parents are or where you were born.”
Unknown parentage and secret birth. Aura’s life fit this line of the prophecy. “I thought you were my grandmother,” Aura said, a lump in her throat making her words sound thick.
“I’m the one who found you. It was near the shore where the Gates of Astrya stand. I thought an elf put you there,” Gram said softly, staring into the fire rather than looking at Aura.
Aura didn’t have a grandmother. No one knew who her parents were or even where she came from. It was more than those rare blue eyes that set her apart; she was a foreigner. Was it any wonder she always felt like an outsider?
“No one is sure what the other lines mean,” Gram said, turning toward the girl, her face in shadows.
Tears burned behind Aura’s eyes so she squeezed her eyelids shut. Maybe the middle lines of the prophecy seemed unclear, but one thing wasn’t a mystery. The last line set forth an ominous and overwhelming purpose for a youngster of seven summers. She’d felt the weight of it settle in her chest when the words were spoken earlier that morning. Preserving the magical line could only mean one thing: Aura would somehow be responsible for keeping magic alive.