Chapter 17: Diary

THE PRESENT:

I could only watch helplessly as Lucas was picked up by the red dragon and carried into the sky. My mind flashed back to what had happened to poor Benthor moments ago, and I feared that Lucas would share his fate.

"Lucas!" I cried out, though he was probably too far away to hear me.

My friends gathered around me, watching the dragon carry away the person we were supposed to be protecting. We watched as the dragon flew high above us, then began to soar away, fading into the horizon.

"Where is he taking him?" I asked.

"Lucas is still alive," Atheria said. She wore a magical ring that allowed the wearer to communicate with their thoughts to the person who wore the twin of the trinket. Lucas was wearing the ring's twin. "The dragon is carrying him away from us, moving north."

"The Dark Domain," Val said. "The dragon is taking him to Dred."

"I thought that Lucas said that Dred didn't want him, that he wanted Gianna," Tasmine, the young apprentice of sorcery, asked.

She was right. Moments before he was taken, Lucas tried to tell us that the dragon wasn't coming for him like we thought it was. Instead, the dragon was coming for me. And he had said something else, something that made no sense to me. He had said that the evil Magus Dred, ruler of the Dark Domain, was my father.

"Clearly he was wrong," Atheria said to Tasmine. The elven warrior turned to regard me, her azure eyes penetrating me. "What was that he was saying before he was taken? That the Magus is your father?"

"But that can't be right," I said, shaking my head in denial. "He was a farmer. He was killed when I was a little girl, perhaps five years old."

"That is not what your mother wrote in her diary," Val said. "She wrote that she was scared of him, that she left him, taking you with her."

"How would you know?" I asked her, directing my stare to the dark elf.

"Excuse me," Tasmine said in her quiet, shy voice. "Can we figure this out later? We need to find Benthor and tend to him."

Atheria cursed under her breath. "I am a fool. I had nearly forgotten about him in all that has happened."

The four of us started running to where he had landed. His broken and twisted body lay on the grass away from us. His blood tainted the ground around him. He did not move or breathe.

Atheria knelt beside him and began to pray to the elven goddess Mishalla. Val silently lowered her head, her thoughts private, though the grief was evident on her dark face. Tasmine wept softly, and I joined her. We wrapped our arms around each other and shared our pain and grief.

"It is the dwarven custom to be buried in the ground," Atheria said, standing up. "They wish to return to the ground they believe gave them birth. Val, if you would help me dig the grave?"

Val said nothing, only nodded her head. Atheria turned to look at Tasmine and I. "Stay near to us, but you do not have to watch the digging if you do not wish to. Tasmine, watch over Gianna. If you see any signs of further attack, return to us or call for us immediately."

Tasmine nodded, and the two of us began to walk away from where the grave was going to be dug. I didn't wish to see my friend buried in the ground. It was painful enough seeing his body, bloodied and broken.

Tasmine and I sat down on some large rocks not far from the elven women. We were silent for a long time, simply thinking of Benthor and grieving. Soon, Tasmine spoke up.

"What will we do now?" she asked. "Benthor is gone and Lucas has been taken. Should we return to Lawshire and inform the king? Perhaps he will know what to do."

That sounded like a possible idea, but something in me did not like it. Last night, Lucas and I discovered that either the king or the silver dragon called Sawyar had lied to us. The king had told all of us that Lucas was to be protected above all else, even at the risk of our own lives. But Sawyar had privately told Lucas that I was pregnant and that I was to be protected, even with his own life. I was certain that I was not pregnant, as my bleeding had ended just a few days ago. But neither Lucas nor I could guess why the king would tell us one thing, and Sawyar would tell Lucas another, or why Sawyar would tell him I was pregnant.

"I don't think we should do that, Tas," I said, after thinking over the suggestion for a moment.

"Shall we go after Lucas then?" she asked.

"I don't know. The four of us entering the Dark Domain does not sound like a wise idea."

"But, is Dred your father?"

I shook my head. "He can't be. I don't know why Lucas would say such a thing."

"Valandaria seems to know something about why he would," Tasmine pointed out. "Perhaps you should ask her."

I was only barely listening to her. My eyes had fallen on my backpouch, lying on the ground beside us. I had taken it off when we sat down on the rock. The pouch was partially open, and I could see the top of a book sitting inside of it. It was my mother's diary, that I had retrieved from the barn before Lucas and I left the home I had grown up in. I never knew why my mother kept it in the barn, in her private hiding place, instead of in the house. It was only a diary. I kept mine in my bedroom, in plain sight beside the bed. But my mother kept hers hidden away in a safe location, and I never figured out why.

I pulled the diary out of the pouch and stared at the leather cover. My hands were trembling.

"What is that?" Tasmine asked.

"My mother's diary. I took it with us when I left what was my home. I don't think Lucas even saw me take it, he was trying to get the horse ready for us to leave. I wasn't even going to bring it with us, but I wanted something to remember my mother by. I have never even opened it, just carried it with me. I didn't want to read her private thoughts. I thought it would be disrespectful to her memory."

Tasmine softly laid her hand on my shoulder. "I know you wish to respect your mother's privacy, but you need to know the truth."

I nodded my head in agreement. My hands were still shaking as I opened the diary to the first page and began to read.

THE PAST:

"Kathia!"

Kathia, a pretty young woman still in her teens, turned from her work to see a young man running up to her. He had long brown hair and stubble lining his face from not shaving for a few days. He was smiling, looking like he had the biggest secret in the world to share with her.

"Timoth!" she said, leaning on her pitchfork. She looked worriedly at the farmhouse, then back to the young man running to her. When he reached her, he was panting, out of breath from running all the way to the fields. "What are you doing here? You know that my father will be mad if he sees you!"

"I know," he panted. "There is a dance in town tonight. Can you come?"

She frowned at him. "I'm not sure, Timoth. I still have to finish my chores, and even then, my father probably won't let me."

Timoth glanced at the farmhouse. "Maybe I should go and speak with him. Tell him that I am madly in love with his daughter and that I demand to be able to dance with her tonight!"

"Don't you dare!" Kathia scolded him, but she was laughing. "I'll try to be there. Now get out of here before he sees you!"

Timoth quickly leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. Then he ran back the way he had come across the fields, whooping and hollering. Kathia watched him leave, smiling to herself.

She turned back to her work, eager now to get everything done so maybe her father would let her go. If she could get all of her chores done and fix his favorite dinner that evening, then surely he would have no reason to not let her go. She smiled once again, as she dreamed of dancing with the man who warmed her heart with his presence.

Kathia ate her dinner nervously. Her eyes kept flickering over to her father, sitting across from her, eating his dinner in a stony silence. He was in his fifties, his thick hair and beard gray with age. He had been a widower for fifteen years. Kathia's mother had died of a disease when Kathia was two years old, and Kathia's father never remarried. Something died within him the day his wife died, and he never smiled, never laughed anymore. He was continually grim, somber, and uncaring of anyone but himself and his daughter, though Kathia frequently wondered just how much he truly cared for her. He was firmly overprotective of her, especially when it came to her seeing young men. He had caught Timoth kissing Kathia on the cheek in the fields once, and he had exploded with anger. He threatened to kill the young man if he ever came near his daughter again.

When she saw that her father was done eating, Kathia quickly stood up and cleared his plate and utensils. He didn't look at her, instead leaning back in his chair and pulling his pipe and tobacco out of his shirt pocket.

"Poppa," Kathia began as she washed his plate, her voice quiet, "there is a dance in town tonight."

The man grunted quietly as he lit his pipe and began to puff at it. He still appeared to be paying her no attention.

"I'd really like to go," Kathia continued. "I finished all my chores. And I promise to be back early."

"Will that Timoth boy be there?" he asked in a flat voice.

"No, at least, I don't think so," she said, nervously wiping her hands on her apron. "I just want to go. Bria will be there, and it's been a while since I have spent time with her."

Her father looked at her through his cold eyes, studying her carefully. "You mark my words, Kathia. You stay away from him. Ain't nothing right or good about him. I catch him around you, I'll kill him."

"Yes, poppa," Kathia nodded, her eyes shifting to look at the floor.

He puffed on his pipe, and she could feel his eyes watching her. Then he said, "Very well, you go to the dance. I want you back early, you hear? We have a lot of work to do tomorrow. And no dancing with any boys. I'll hear about it if you do, don't think I won't."

"Yes, poppa," she replied, trying very hard to hide her smile. "Thank you very much."

By the time Kathia arrived at the dance, it was past dark. The dance was being held in the town hall of Trias, and it was something the Mayor frequently organized himself. He loved to dance, to drink, and to have lots of people around him having a good time, so it seemed like every week he was putting together a dance or other festivity for the town of Trias.

Kathia entered the town hall, and the music and the noise of the people washed over her. A group of local farmers played their instruments in a corner, as all around them, people danced and drank and let their cares go. Some of the younger men from the town were singing along to the music, and they were clearly drunk. Kathia waved at a few of the people she knew as she looked over the crowd for any sign of Timoth.

"Kathia!" a female's voice called to her from the crowd. The young woman who called to Kathia began weaving through the people between her and Kathia. She pulled someone along with her, gripping his hand and guiding him through the crowd.

"Bria," Kathia greeted her with a warm smile. Bria was Kathia's best friend. They had known each other since they were small children. "I told my father that you would be here, but I didn't know for sure if you would be or not!"

"I came on a whimsy," she said, smiling widely at her friend. She pulled her male companion forward to stand beside her. "Kathia, this is Maygis."

The tall young man stepped forward. His raven hair was short and neat. He had dark eyes that were deep and enchanting. He gently took her hand and leaned down to kiss it, like a gentleman of nobility. Kathia felt her heart speed up as she looked at him, her cheeks beginning to flush.

"I am enchanted," he said to her as he straightened up, still holding her hand in his. His eyes remained locked with hers, and Kathia felt herself blushing hot in her cheeks.

"If I had known the young women of Trias were so beautiful, I would have come here sooner," Maygis said, looking to Bria and Kathia. Bria giggled and Kathia blushed even harder.

"There you are!" came Timoth's voice from behind Kathia. She spun to see him standing there with a devilish grin on his face. "I had hoped you would come!"

Kathia smiled and hugged him quickly. She couldn't be too overt in her gestures towards him in public, or word may get back to her father.

"Maygis, come dance with me!" Bria said, pulling on his arm.