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Description
The Golden Maiden
Chapter Five
    Thank the Maiden you come along when you did…I don't even…
          She's safe now…needs attention, though…
   …must go, my queen. I hear somethi…
***
   Soft. That was the first thing I was aware of once I awoken. It was like I was tucked into a cloud, kept safe and warm. With my eyes still closed, I clutched the fabric with my fingers, sighing as the cloth itself seemed to calm me.
   "She's moving!" A tired sounding voice said.
   Slowly, I opened my eyes to find Rylen sitting right next to me. He smiled, reaching out and taking my hand. He smoothed back my golden hair from my face, and the gesture, even then in my disorienting state, sent my heart beating. I blinked, looking around to take in my surroundings, and to placate my heart rate.
   Bright and beautiful. Three of the room's four walls were huge windows that overlooked a city. The sight was breathtaking. The buildings were thin and tall, elegant even, stretching towards the clear blue sky. The room wasn't too high up, and I could see a courtyard filled with fountains, flowers, and…elves? Confused, I looked back to Rylen, my head rolling around on this pillow that had to be a cloud.
   "Wha…" I coughed, my voice cracking from lack of use.
   "We made it, Cassidy." Rylen told me, squeezing my hand. "We're in Charth Palace, in Dyllrinu. After you passed out, a scouting group of elves came across us. And get this, Princess. The queen herself was with them! And she's been visiting you everyday since we've been here."
   "And…and how long have we been here?" I croaked, trying to think back to the events that led up to my faint.
   "Nearly a week, Princess." He answered softly after a second's hesitation, brushing my hand with his thumb.
   I sucked in my breath, but not at his words, like Rylen assumed, but the gesture. I suddenly had the urge to pull my hand away, but I couldn't. Instead, I closed my eyes again.
   "Now what?" I whispered, suddenly terrified. "We can't stay. We've already been here too long. Farn must've heard something by now…"
   "The elves are very secretive to begin with, Princess." I winced slightly; He needed to stop calling me that. "Outside of this palace, no one knows where the Princess of Arthrinia is."
   "Don't you mean Princess of Farn?" I hissed bitterly, my chest swelling with rage.
   "Shh, now. The nurse said that you mustn't get too stressed." Rylen soothed, patting my hand.
   "I'm not stressed." I lied, opening my eyes and shifting in the bed to sit up, still keeping a hold of Rylen's hand. "Can I get out of this bed?"
   "Not stressed, just restless." Rylen laughed. "Soon, Princess-"
   "Cassidy," I mumbled, but he continued on like he didn't hear me.
   "Two days, at the latest."
   I finally released his hand, crossing my arms huffily over my chest. That's when I looked down and saw that I was wearing a white, puffy, silky gown. With a look of horror, I picked at the fabric. Yes, it was as soft as the bed coverings, but a dress? Really? Rylen chuckled softly at my expression and pointed to the side table on the opposite side of the bed. A midnight blue tunic was resting on the table, folded with such sharp angles that it looked as deadly as a throwing star. Next to it there were some leggings and belt, both folded just as pointed as the tunic.
   "I figured you would react this way, so I made sure that a tunic was nearby." explained Rylen with a smirk. "If you're up for it, I'll leave so you can change-not so fast, Princess!"
   Throwing the sheets off myself, I swung my legs off the bed much too quick. My head began to spin, and the room went helter-skelter. My fingers grasped the bed sheets with a sudden desperation as I waited for the spinning to subside. It didn't help to close my eyes; the darkness was even more disorienting. I could faintly feel Rylen's hand brush against my shoulder, holding me in place, whispering something in my ear…
   "…okay? Cassidy?" His voice was suddenly too loud and warm against my ear as the world slowed to a halt, but he did call me by my name.  "Are you alright? I did warn you, though…"
   Bringing a warm hand to my brisk forehead, I released a breath. My eyes closed, abruptly exhausted all over again. Was my condition this bad? I could hear Rylen asking again if I was alright, so to shut him up and get the quiet back, I nodded my head, very slowly. His hand was hot on my shoulder, and I shrugged it off.
   "I…I think I'm going to…" I mumbled, carefully laying back down and curling into myself.
   "Rest well, my Princess." Rylen murmured, his voice again at my ear but it was softer and cool this time; it gave me the shivers.
   I felt him pull the sheets back around me, tucking it in and everything. Just as the slumber began to pull me under, I felt him put his hand on my head, and for a brief second, I could have sworn that I felt his lips press against my brow…
***
   When I awoke some time later, I was surprised, and somewhat relieved, to see that Rylen wasn't in the room. Confused and worried, I sat up gradually, wary still of my state. With a sniff, I scratched my head and was slightly dismayed to feel how tangled my golden mane was. I yearned for a nice bath and a very sturdy brush. I glanced around, my eyes falling on the side table which now boasted a plate-full of various food items. And my stomach cried out in hunger.
   With an embarrassingly ravenous manner, I grabbed at the food like it was going to disappear in the next five seconds. It was food from back home, but the taste was even better. There was something about the juicy, perfectly-ripe blood oranges and still-warm rye bread that was different, but I didn't think too much of it as I shoveled the whole plate down my throat.
   "Hungry, I see." A pleasant voice rang out, like a song, from the door way.
   My face, still swollen a bit with food, turned red, and I immediately swallowed the rest as I turned my head to see an elf approach me. I recognized her right away; Queen Genevieve of the Elves.
   Her dark pink eyes crinkled as her smile got bigger, scrunching up the seven-shaped scar on her left, upper cheek. If anything, the scar made the elf queen even more beautiful. Her midnight sky hair was coiled neatly on the top of her head, a few loose strands playing about her forehead.  Resting upon her brow was a modest tiara with only one sapphire resting in the middle. The queen was wearing typical elven attire, something that looked like it was taken from the future. It was a white garment that trailed to the floor almost gracefully. The sleeves hung off the queen's shoulders and hugged her arms tightly before meeting at a point looped around her middle finger. The bodice was laced with yellow and blue strips of cloth, threading together into an intricate design. Around her navel, the garment split to reveal a deep pink under dress. The white garment came back together with two narrow strips, joining together to make a sort of bridge across the pink sheet.
   Before I could examine the queen further, she was sitting in Rylen's chair, adjusting her skirts. She placed her dainty hands in her lap, and then looked up expectantly at me.
   "So, Princess Cassidy of Arthrinia." Queen Genevieve began, her voice lilting and soft. "I am glad to hear that you are safe. When my people heard of that Bolerian prince's doings, we were devastated."
   "Oh, and is that why you didn't send any help at all?" I snapped, surprised at my sudden ferocity but let it flow anyway.
   "It would've been too late, my dear." answered the elf simply and calmly, expecting me to react this way. "Besides, we aren't a people of war. I wouldn't have any one to send, unfortunately. I have a supply train ready to go, however."
   I opened my mouth to say something rude and uncalled for, but her pink gaze silenced me. I bowed my head in silent thanks, and Genevieve nodded in return.
   "No one outside of the palace is aware of your location, and it will stay that way, trust me. My people aren't so easy to betray." She paused, her eyes dark. "Not anymore, anyways. But, I think you are well enough to explore, if you wish. I understand that you are on an important quest?"
   "You could call it that," I told her, fidgeting with my fingers. "But I doubt that you could help me. You see, I-"
   "The Golden Maiden, yes." The elf finished with a grin. "Just because she is a human myth doesn't mean that only humans believe it. And, obviously, she isn't just a myth. Why don't you change into something more…comfortable? I'll have someone come fetch you and bring you to our libraries."
   I nodded, watching as she lifted herself up and drifted to the door. Just as she opened the door, I sat up straighter and called back out to her.
   "And of Rylen? The man who came with me? Where did he scurry off to?" I asked, hoping I didn't sound desperate or anything.
   "He rests, Princess. He hasn't slept a wink since you've arrived." I bowed my head, praying that my flush would stay down. "I had to practically carry him, kicking and screaming, into his own bed." She paused again, smiling at me with a knowing glimmer in her eyes. "Someone will be with you shortly. A tunic is folded and waiting for you at the foot of the bed."
   The elf queen gave a nod before turning away and closing the door gently behind her. I sat there on the bed for awhile longer, waiting for the heat to leave my face. How foolishly naïve and young I must've seemed to her. Asking after Rylen like he was…important? I mean, he is. Right? With a sigh of frustration, I rubbed my eyes in attempt to clear my head. It helped some.
   Huffing, I tossed the sheets off and remembered that I was still wearing a gown. A growl issued from my throat, sounding feral and inhuman, as I literally ripped it from my body. It was a nice, even tear that split across the shoulders and down the sides. I threw the torn garment away in loathing, but as I watched it flutter to the ground in two separate pieces, I suddenly felt guilty for destroying the clothes given to me by the elves. I bit my bottom lip, thinking about fixing it somehow…
   Oh, Mother, I should've taken those sewing classes like you wanted.
   Knowing that there was nothing I could do to fix it didn't make the guiltiness sting any less. Still, as I slipped into the dark blue knee-length tunic (which didn't prick me with its ridiculously sharp folds) that felt like the soft ears of a pampered dog, I frowned at the dress. Since I was too busy mulling over the gown, I didn't even notice that I was much less woozy. It gave me a start, but not enough to keep me from tying the thick, light brown belt around my waist. As I rather ungracefully, almost losing my balance once or twice, tugged the tan leggings on, I looked around for shoes, but it seemed that there were none.
   So, with practiced hands, I pulled my hair up into a ponytail as I walked across the room, my bare feet slapping against the cold, alabaster floor. With each step, I winced slightly at the noise that echoed throughout the room, and I felt bad for tromping so carelessly on the flawless floors-
   "Oh, Princess, you're up already," A soft, hesitant voice squeaked at the doorway.
   I paused with my hands frozen above my head, hovering over the half-done pony tail. My emerald eyes rose to meet those timid, pale orange ones of an elf. He had small, oval glasses that rested loosely on the bridge of his long, narrow nose. His dark hair was short with a few streaks of grey shot through. He was tall, like most elves, with a long, orange garment to match his eyes that cut off just above the floor. A vanilla-colored sash was strung across one shoulder with various pockets sown into it. Pencils, other pairs of glasses, and even part of a book stuck out from the pockets. His feet, too, were bare so I felt less guilty about my own free feet.
   And now he was looking at me expectantly, as if waiting for me to respond. Thinking of nothing to say, I only grinned as I finished pulling my hair through the tie. The elf fumbled with the large book cradled in his arms anxiously, his orange eyes darting about.
   "You must be the elf the queen sent?" I asked, saving this elf from going into an anxiety attack.
   "Oh, yes, um-" He paused, pushing his glasses back up his nose before giving a deep bow. "Oskal the book keeper, at your service, highness."
   "Please, just Cassidy." I told him as he stood back up to shove his glasses back into place. "No need for titles here. The queen inferred that your libraries would have information on the Golden Maiden?"
   "Ah, yes, of course. Tis but the reason you're here, no?" said Oskal with a smile, much more comfortable on the talk of books, before turning slightly away and waving with his hand. "Come along with me, Princess."
   I winced, but the elf continued on. And the only thing I could do was scuttle after him like a puppy. The corridors were tall and curved at the top with complex mosaic designs sprawled across. More than once, I stopped and looked upward, just staring at the beautiful depictions of elven history. Oskal would clear his throat, politely but with impatience, and I would reluctantly follow him down the halls.
   Opposed to my room with the window-walls, there were only small, rectangular windows placed near the ceiling in the hallways. The walls themselves were arrayed in tapestries and the occasional mirror or painting. Again, I found myself entranced by the paintings, one which was an interesting piece of a young elf with her dark hair flying back behind her as she drove a spear into an elderly looking elf with a look of complete despair plastered across his face. It was so disturbing, but I couldn't look away.
   After Oskal's "ahems" went unanswered for quite some time, he strode down to me. He stood next to me, gazing upon the painting with a strange look of reverence.  I nodded toward it, my eyes holding the elven girl's expression of victory, yet defeat at the same time.
   "Who is this?" I asked, my voice soft, but echoing in the empty corridor.
   "This is the beloved Queen Genevieve," Oskal replied, his voice equally soft. "She was but in her fourteenth year when this occurred. You see the elf she's impaled upon her spear?" Oskal pointed, as if I couldn't see it, but I suppressed my roll of the eyes as he continued, too interested in what he would say. "That is her uncle, Lyle the Insane, some called him. Years ago, the queen's parents were slaughtered by this man, and he took the throne for himself. The queen disappeared for a couple years, in hiding, but at the same time, preparing to return and take back her kingdom."
   "Sounds familiar…" I muttered, still watching the painting as if it may move, come to life, and I would see Genevieve stab her traitorous uncle again and again, hear his desperate cries and see his blood splatter-
   "Yes, indeed. And so, our queen did return and slayed her uncle. You see, elves can only be killed by a blood relative. That is why Lyle wasn't killed earlier. And now, you see what has occurred since then. Queen Genevieve has been a very gracious and regal ruler, and I hope to see her rule till forever."
   I glanced at the book keeper, a smirk tugging at my lips. His orange eyes were staring respectfully, and maybe even admiringly, at the painted image of his queen. I almost questioned him about it, but thought against it.
   "Thank you for telling me about it." I said instead, snapping Oskal out of his trance. "I appreciate it. I don't know much about elven culture, or history, for that matter."
   "Then what are we doing lolling about when there are books to be read? Come now, Princess! Come!" Oskal scurried down the hall, leaving me to practically run after him.
   I stayed right on his heels for the rest of the trip, swiveling my head back and forth to gaze upon the different paintings, artifacts, and trimmings that still made me want to skid to a stop. But, the elf was obviously anxious to get back to his familiarity of books, and I didn't want to keep him from it.
   He turned a corner, and we were face to face with a pair of very large doors. Carved into the dark wood were scrolls unwinding and spilling over each other, and books upon books stacked up, some opened with strange symbols etched into the pages. I stepped closer, mesmerized, and gently brushed the ancient wood with my fingertips. It was, surprisingly, smooth under my touch, and soft. Behind me, I could hear Oskal humming with a proud air. He moved up next to me, wrapping his hand around the sterling handle while easily balancing the huge book in his other hand.
   "Beautiful, isn't it?" Oskal breathed, his voice taking that tone again: soft and in awe, almost. "Carved by the queen's great-grandfather himself. He's the reason our libraries are as grand as they are."
   "They're splendid." I breathed, stroking the pages and mysterious symbols with an unusual gentleness. "Never have I seen anything like it. You elves are so…beautiful, indeed."
   Oskal smiled, slow and shy, as he pulled open the door. A wave of breeze hit me right away, coming from the large, open windows right across the room. Pale red curtains danced about with the wind, looking like the shadows of a night fire. Then, with timid steps, I entered the library, completely overwhelmed by the capacity of books.
   Instead of walls, except for the windows, bookshelves were there, stretching upwards into the dark depths of the high ceiling. It gave the impression of going on forever, and it certainly looked like it did. I looked to my left and right, only seeing rows and rows of shelves on either side. In the center aisle were desks and chairs, all piled with books and parchment. Feathered quills were scattered about, and inkpots were plentiful. A few elves were scattered about, some hunched over books while scratching away furiously on a piece of parchment while others traversed the rows of books, just searching. None looked up at our entrance, too focused on their work.
   It was amazing, and I knew the book keeper back home, a homely older man called Terrance, would move in and stay right between two desks. I pictured him doing so, and a laugh escaped from my lips. Embarrassed and worried that Oskal would think I was being rude, I clasped a hand to my mouth in what I hoped looked like astonishment. Although, my laughter quickly turned cold at the assumption that Terrance was probably dead. I lowered my hand, brushing a strand of loose hair behind my ear. Clearing my throat, I turned back to Oskal.
   "Guardians, this is..." I trailed off, trying to think of the appropriate word. "Incredible. It's remarkable, Oskal. Truly."
   "I'm glad you think that way, Princess. Most are impressed with the Charthian Libraries."
   "I'd say more than impressed." I murmured, running my fingers across the binding of the books on a nearby shelf. "As magnificent as this is, where do we start? I may need a map for this spectacle."
   "Follow me, please."
   I paused, my fingers still resting on the spine of a book without the strange symbols, but instead the Common Text. I titled my head to the side, squinting to read the small print. Humans and How To Disassemble Then Reassemble.
   All the food I shoved down my throat that morning was suddenly and very rapidly traveling back up. I brought a hand to my mouth, attempting to hold back the vomit. A second passed, and the regurgitated food slowly slid back down my throat. I turned sharply to Oskal, who was waiting with annoyance a few feet away.
   "What is this?" I cried, my shrill voice carrying throughout the library as I pointed accusingly at the book.
   Confused and impatient, Oskal approached briskly with a furrowed brow. He shoved his glasses back up his nose as he bent down to read the spine. The book keeper winced, standing back up again.
   "There was a time when the elves were…interested in human biology." He explained hesitantly, his orange eyes clearly avoiding mine. "That was millennia ago, though, Princess. If anything, that book should be in our archive, not out in the open like this. My apologizes. I shall personally see to it once we're done here."
   I could only nod in affirmation, my lips sucked in and my eyes wide with horror. Oskal put his hand gently on my arm as a gesture to follow, and I had to catch myself before ripping away from his touch. Although this…interest, as Oskal said, had been long gone, it was now a constant thought in my head. We're not that different, are we? Why would they dissect us, open us up and then put us back together…?
   "Princess," Oskal was saying, only bringing me away from my thoughts because he used my title. "We have a whole section dedicated to human legends and myths. They are very intriguing to us."
   "Just like humans themselves, right?" I added a bit harshly, crossing my arms as my eyes roved over the familiar letters, checking for anything else I should be wary of. "Sorry, don't be offended. I realize that you had nothing to do with that. I'm just…"
   I trailed off, my eyes catching the title of a certain book with looping, golden letters that spelled out: The Golden Maiden, A Human "Myth". My fingers curled around the spine, pulling it carefully from the shelf. Oskal hovered behind me, five other books held in his arms. He grinned, nodding towards a table not far from us. I plopped down on the stiff chair, not really think much about the worn down seat below me as I opened the book.
   The first page was an introduction written in the same script along the spine: loopy, neat, and punctual. I paused a few seconds to scan the few paragraphs, which included something that looked like a disclaimer for something, but my attention was wondering what lied beyond this page. My wrist twitched, turning to the next page. Instead of writing, though, there were illustrations. And they were even more beautiful than what I encountered in the hallways of the palace.
   It was a staff with a shaft of what looked like pure gold, shaded with an expert artistic hand. Atop the shaft was an elaborate design of twisted gold metal that resembled a sun, each prong stretching and reaching in different directions towards some unseen point. The prongs were centered on a large, pale and almost opaque, orb at the base of the staff. All of it looked to be pulsing, glowing right off the page.
My fingers gingerly ran over the page, the ancient paints still holding faithfully true, barely crumbling at my touch. Still, I withdrew my hands into my lap. My emerald eyes roved over the illustration, taking in every detail of this glowing staff. I blinked when coming upon writing, the black letters suddenly stark by the gold staff. I leaned forward a bit, pushing the same loose strand of hair back behind my ear. The script read:
   True, no one but the Maiden herself knows what the Scepter of Eternal Light looks like for certain, but many have claimed to see it. With their help as well as my own memory, I was able to do a rough sketch of the Scepter. I realize I am not the best artist, and this sketch does not do the Scepter justice.
   I scoffed under my breath before reading on. Not the best artist, my bottom.
   Only the Maiden can wield this magnificent object of pure light. With a mere swipe of this Scepter, all the shadows lurking in the land will cringe away and pull back into nothing…
   It went on with more description and such, but my mind began to wander again. With more reverence now, I turned the page with care to come across a few other illustrations. One was of a hooded being with a white cloak and a pale yellow dress that flowed about, past the feet. In her hands was a plain, golden staff. Under the hood, there wasn't much to see. In fact, the face and it's already vague features was smeared, like the artist changed his mind about revealing the being's identity and quickly erased it at the last second. Curious, my eyes shifted to the short description scrawled underneath:
   Claramond, or the Bright Protector in the ancient language, is said to be the Guardian of the Scepter. She stands guard, vigilant, at the entrance to the Golden Sanctum. She makes sure that no one but the Chosen Maiden enters the place. Some call her Aradia, or Goddess of Witches, but none are exactly sure why. I wish I knew more of this fascinating sentinel.
   Squinting, I brought the book closer to my face in attempt to see this Claramond's face more clearly. If anything, it made it more blurry. With a grumble, I placed the book back on the table, glancing up to see Oskal sitting across from me. A rather large stack of books was resting next to him, and his orange eyes were watching me. I sighed, a smile spreading across my face.
   "Incredible." I said, my voice hushed much like Oskal's when he spoke of his culture. "I didn't realize that there was so much about the Maiden…"
   "Indeed." said Oskal, his tone matching mine. "You see, my people are very fascinated with the other species of the land, humans, especially."
   "You mean there are other species than elves and humans?!" I interrupted, eyes widening at the idea of encountering a whole new species.
   "Your myths are interesting, to say the least," The book keeper continued, giving me a slightly amused look that told me that he was not going to answer my question any time soon. "We gather all we can about anything that catches our eye, which, as you could probably tell from our copious amount of books, is a lot of things, and record it for our own keeping. Of course, we give credit where it's due. But, the Maiden especially was intriguing to my people. We scoured the Kingdoms for anything and everything, and our collection got bigger and bigger, but I must say that this journal is the most important book of about the Maiden." He paused here to tap the page. "Go on, Princess. I think the next page will be…fascinating to you."
   I raised an eyebrow in suspicion, but complied. As the slightly-aged page turned at my hand, I nearly fell out of my chair. A cry of shock flew from my lips, and it nearly was drawn out into a scream. Bringing a hand to my open mouth for about the fourth time that day, my eyes widened so much that it hurt. I leaned forward, meeting the eerily familiar emerald eyes of the woman drawn into this journal.
   It was like looking into a mirror, from my eyes to my slightly turned up nose. What was I doing in this journal about the Maiden…? Frantically, I removed my startled gaze from the intense green eyes staring blankly back at me to the rather messy writing underneath it:
   Just like the Scepter, none have seen the face of the Maiden for she is reincarnated in a different girl every time she returns. However, I have received a vision from the Guardians themselves. Of course, none believe me, but I don't need their belief. I know what I saw, what the Guardians blessed me with. It was the face of the Maiden who will step forward years from now, maybe even centuries, and she will be the most significant and powerful Maiden of them all. She will banish the Darkness for the longest time in all of history. I pray that I am still alive to grace her presence.
   "That's me." I sputtered, pointing at the drawing as I gaped up at Oskal.
   The elf furrowed his brow in confusion, as if those two words I spoke were in a different language unknown to him. He titled his head, pushing his glasses back up his nose.
   "Well, of course it's you, Princess." He said, like the answer was obvious. "You are the Golden Maiden. Haven't you figured that out by now?"

Description
The Golden Maiden
Chapter Five
    Thank the Maiden you come along when you did…I don't even…
          She's safe now…needs attention, though…
   …must go, my queen. I hear somethi…
***
   Soft. That was the first thing I was aware of once I awoken. It was like I was tucked into a cloud, kept safe and warm. With my eyes still closed, I clutched the fabric with my fingers, sighing as the cloth itself seemed to calm me.
   "She's moving!" A tired sounding voice said.
   Slowly, I opened my eyes to find Rylen sitting right next to me. He smiled, reaching out and taking my hand. He smoothed back my golden hair from my face, and the gesture, even then in my disorienting state, sent my heart beating. I blinked, looking around to take in my surroundings, and to placate my heart rate.
   Bright and beautiful. Three of the room's four walls were huge windows that overlooked a city. The sight was breathtaking. The buildings were thin and tall, elegant even, stretching towards the clear blue sky. The room wasn't too high up, and I could see a courtyard filled with fountains, flowers, and…elves? Confused, I looked back to Rylen, my head rolling around on this pillow that had to be a cloud.
   "Wha…" I coughed, my voice cracking from lack of use.
   "We made it, Cassidy." Rylen told me, squeezing my hand. "We're in Charth Palace, in Dyllrinu. After you passed out, a scouting group of elves came across us. And get this, Princess. The queen herself was with them! And she's been visiting you everyday since we've been here."
   "And…and how long have we been here?" I croaked, trying to think back to the events that led up to my faint.
   "Nearly a week, Princess." He answered softly after a second's hesitation, brushing my hand with his thumb.
   I sucked in my breath, but not at his words, like Rylen assumed, but the gesture. I suddenly had the urge to pull my hand away, but I couldn't. Instead, I closed my eyes again.
   "Now what?" I whispered, suddenly terrified. "We can't stay. We've already been here too long. Farn must've heard something by now…"
   "The elves are very secretive to begin with, Princess." I winced slightly; He needed to stop calling me that. "Outside of this palace, no one knows where the Princess of Arthrinia is."
   "Don't you mean Princess of Farn?" I hissed bitterly, my chest swelling with rage.
   "Shh, now. The nurse said that you mustn't get too stressed." Rylen soothed, patting my hand.
   "I'm not stressed." I lied, opening my eyes and shifting in the bed to sit up, still keeping a hold of Rylen's hand. "Can I get out of this bed?"
   "Not stressed, just restless." Rylen laughed. "Soon, Princess-"
   "Cassidy," I mumbled, but he continued on like he didn't hear me.
   "Two days, at the latest."
   I finally released his hand, crossing my arms huffily over my chest. That's when I looked down and saw that I was wearing a white, puffy, silky gown. With a look of horror, I picked at the fabric. Yes, it was as soft as the bed coverings, but a dress? Really? Rylen chuckled softly at my expression and pointed to the side table on the opposite side of the bed. A midnight blue tunic was resting on the table, folded with such sharp angles that it looked as deadly as a throwing star. Next to it there were some leggings and belt, both folded just as pointed as the tunic.
   "I figured you would react this way, so I made sure that a tunic was nearby." explained Rylen with a smirk. "If you're up for it, I'll leave so you can change-not so fast, Princess!"
   Throwing the sheets off myself, I swung my legs off the bed much too quick. My head began to spin, and the room went helter-skelter. My fingers grasped the bed sheets with a sudden desperation as I waited for the spinning to subside. It didn't help to close my eyes; the darkness was even more disorienting. I could faintly feel Rylen's hand brush against my shoulder, holding me in place, whispering something in my ear…
   "…okay? Cassidy?" His voice was suddenly too loud and warm against my ear as the world slowed to a halt, but he did call me by my name.  "Are you alright? I did warn you, though…"
   Bringing a warm hand to my brisk forehead, I released a breath. My eyes closed, abruptly exhausted all over again. Was my condition this bad? I could hear Rylen asking again if I was alright, so to shut him up and get the quiet back, I nodded my head, very slowly. His hand was hot on my shoulder, and I shrugged it off.
   "I…I think I'm going to…" I mumbled, carefully laying back down and curling into myself.
   "Rest well, my Princess." Rylen murmured, his voice again at my ear but it was softer and cool this time; it gave me the shivers.
   I felt him pull the sheets back around me, tucking it in and everything. Just as the slumber began to pull me under, I felt him put his hand on my head, and for a brief second, I could have sworn that I felt his lips press against my brow…
***
   When I awoke some time later, I was surprised, and somewhat relieved, to see that Rylen wasn't in the room. Confused and worried, I sat up gradually, wary still of my state. With a sniff, I scratched my head and was slightly dismayed to feel how tangled my golden mane was. I yearned for a nice bath and a very sturdy brush. I glanced around, my eyes falling on the side table which now boasted a plate-full of various food items. And my stomach cried out in hunger.
   With an embarrassingly ravenous manner, I grabbed at the food like it was going to disappear in the next five seconds. It was food from back home, but the taste was even better. There was something about the juicy, perfectly-ripe blood oranges and still-warm rye bread that was different, but I didn't think too much of it as I shoveled the whole plate down my throat.
   "Hungry, I see." A pleasant voice rang out, like a song, from the door way.
   My face, still swollen a bit with food, turned red, and I immediately swallowed the rest as I turned my head to see an elf approach me. I recognized her right away; Queen Genevieve of the Elves.
   Her dark pink eyes crinkled as her smile got bigger, scrunching up the seven-shaped scar on her left, upper cheek. If anything, the scar made the elf queen even more beautiful. Her midnight sky hair was coiled neatly on the top of her head, a few loose strands playing about her forehead.  Resting upon her brow was a modest tiara with only one sapphire resting in the middle. The queen was wearing typical elven attire, something that looked like it was taken from the future. It was a white garment that trailed to the floor almost gracefully. The sleeves hung off the queen's shoulders and hugged her arms tightly before meeting at a point looped around her middle finger. The bodice was laced with yellow and blue strips of cloth, threading together into an intricate design. Around her navel, the garment split to reveal a deep pink under dress. The white garment came back together with two narrow strips, joining together to make a sort of bridge across the pink sheet.
   Before I could examine the queen further, she was sitting in Rylen's chair, adjusting her skirts. She placed her dainty hands in her lap, and then looked up expectantly at me.
   "So, Princess Cassidy of Arthrinia." Queen Genevieve began, her voice lilting and soft. "I am glad to hear that you are safe. When my people heard of that Bolerian prince's doings, we were devastated."
   "Oh, and is that why you didn't send any help at all?" I snapped, surprised at my sudden ferocity but let it flow anyway.
   "It would've been too late, my dear." answered the elf simply and calmly, expecting me to react this way. "Besides, we aren't a people of war. I wouldn't have any one to send, unfortunately. I have a supply train ready to go, however."
   I opened my mouth to say something rude and uncalled for, but her pink gaze silenced me. I bowed my head in silent thanks, and Genevieve nodded in return.
   "No one outside of the palace is aware of your location, and it will stay that way, trust me. My people aren't so easy to betray." She paused, her eyes dark. "Not anymore, anyways. But, I think you are well enough to explore, if you wish. I understand that you are on an important quest?"
   "You could call it that," I told her, fidgeting with my fingers. "But I doubt that you could help me. You see, I-"
   "The Golden Maiden, yes." The elf finished with a grin. "Just because she is a human myth doesn't mean that only humans believe it. And, obviously, she isn't just a myth. Why don't you change into something more…comfortable? I'll have someone come fetch you and bring you to our libraries."
   I nodded, watching as she lifted herself up and drifted to the door. Just as she opened the door, I sat up straighter and called back out to her.
   "And of Rylen? The man who came with me? Where did he scurry off to?" I asked, hoping I didn't sound desperate or anything.
   "He rests, Princess. He hasn't slept a wink since you've arrived." I bowed my head, praying that my flush would stay down. "I had to practically carry him, kicking and screaming, into his own bed." She paused again, smiling at me with a knowing glimmer in her eyes. "Someone will be with you shortly. A tunic is folded and waiting for you at the foot of the bed."
   The elf queen gave a nod before turning away and closing the door gently behind her. I sat there on the bed for awhile longer, waiting for the heat to leave my face. How foolishly naïve and young I must've seemed to her. Asking after Rylen like he was…important? I mean, he is. Right? With a sigh of frustration, I rubbed my eyes in attempt to clear my head. It helped some.
   Huffing, I tossed the sheets off and remembered that I was still wearing a gown. A growl issued from my throat, sounding feral and inhuman, as I literally ripped it from my body. It was a nice, even tear that split across the shoulders and down the sides. I threw the torn garment away in loathing, but as I watched it flutter to the ground in two separate pieces, I suddenly felt guilty for destroying the clothes given to me by the elves. I bit my bottom lip, thinking about fixing it somehow…
   Oh, Mother, I should've taken those sewing classes like you wanted.
   Knowing that there was nothing I could do to fix it didn't make the guiltiness sting any less. Still, as I slipped into the dark blue knee-length tunic (which didn't prick me with its ridiculously sharp folds) that felt like the soft ears of a pampered dog, I frowned at the dress. Since I was too busy mulling over the gown, I didn't even notice that I was much less woozy. It gave me a start, but not enough to keep me from tying the thick, light brown belt around my waist. As I rather ungracefully, almost losing my balance once or twice, tugged the tan leggings on, I looked around for shoes, but it seemed that there were none.
   So, with practiced hands, I pulled my hair up into a ponytail as I walked across the room, my bare feet slapping against the cold, alabaster floor. With each step, I winced slightly at the noise that echoed throughout the room, and I felt bad for tromping so carelessly on the flawless floors-
   "Oh, Princess, you're up already," A soft, hesitant voice squeaked at the doorway.
   I paused with my hands frozen above my head, hovering over the half-done pony tail. My emerald eyes rose to meet those timid, pale orange ones of an elf. He had small, oval glasses that rested loosely on the bridge of his long, narrow nose. His dark hair was short with a few streaks of grey shot through. He was tall, like most elves, with a long, orange garment to match his eyes that cut off just above the floor. A vanilla-colored sash was strung across one shoulder with various pockets sown into it. Pencils, other pairs of glasses, and even part of a book stuck out from the pockets. His feet, too, were bare so I felt less guilty about my own free feet.
   And now he was looking at me expectantly, as if waiting for me to respond. Thinking of nothing to say, I only grinned as I finished pulling my hair through the tie. The elf fumbled with the large book cradled in his arms anxiously, his orange eyes darting about.
   "You must be the elf the queen sent?" I asked, saving this elf from going into an anxiety attack.
   "Oh, yes, um-" He paused, pushing his glasses back up his nose before giving a deep bow. "Oskal the book keeper, at your service, highness."
   "Please, just Cassidy." I told him as he stood back up to shove his glasses back into place. "No need for titles here. The queen inferred that your libraries would have information on the Golden Maiden?"
   "Ah, yes, of course. Tis but the reason you're here, no?" said Oskal with a smile, much more comfortable on the talk of books, before turning slightly away and waving with his hand. "Come along with me, Princess."
   I winced, but the elf continued on. And the only thing I could do was scuttle after him like a puppy. The corridors were tall and curved at the top with complex mosaic designs sprawled across. More than once, I stopped and looked upward, just staring at the beautiful depictions of elven history. Oskal would clear his throat, politely but with impatience, and I would reluctantly follow him down the halls.
   Opposed to my room with the window-walls, there were only small, rectangular windows placed near the ceiling in the hallways. The walls themselves were arrayed in tapestries and the occasional mirror or painting. Again, I found myself entranced by the paintings, one which was an interesting piece of a young elf with her dark hair flying back behind her as she drove a spear into an elderly looking elf with a look of complete despair plastered across his face. It was so disturbing, but I couldn't look away.
   After Oskal's "ahems" went unanswered for quite some time, he strode down to me. He stood next to me, gazing upon the painting with a strange look of reverence.  I nodded toward it, my eyes holding the elven girl's expression of victory, yet defeat at the same time.
   "Who is this?" I asked, my voice soft, but echoing in the empty corridor.
   "This is the beloved Queen Genevieve," Oskal replied, his voice equally soft. "She was but in her fourteenth year when this occurred. You see the elf she's impaled upon her spear?" Oskal pointed, as if I couldn't see it, but I suppressed my roll of the eyes as he continued, too interested in what he would say. "That is her uncle, Lyle the Insane, some called him. Years ago, the queen's parents were slaughtered by this man, and he took the throne for himself. The queen disappeared for a couple years, in hiding, but at the same time, preparing to return and take back her kingdom."
   "Sounds familiar…" I muttered, still watching the painting as if it may move, come to life, and I would see Genevieve stab her traitorous uncle again and again, hear his desperate cries and see his blood splatter-
   "Yes, indeed. And so, our queen did return and slayed her uncle. You see, elves can only be killed by a blood relative. That is why Lyle wasn't killed earlier. And now, you see what has occurred since then. Queen Genevieve has been a very gracious and regal ruler, and I hope to see her rule till forever."
   I glanced at the book keeper, a smirk tugging at my lips. His orange eyes were staring respectfully, and maybe even admiringly, at the painted image of his queen. I almost questioned him about it, but thought against it.
   "Thank you for telling me about it." I said instead, snapping Oskal out of his trance. "I appreciate it. I don't know much about elven culture, or history, for that matter."
   "Then what are we doing lolling about when there are books to be read? Come now, Princess! Come!" Oskal scurried down the hall, leaving me to practically run after him.
   I stayed right on his heels for the rest of the trip, swiveling my head back and forth to gaze upon the different paintings, artifacts, and trimmings that still made me want to skid to a stop. But, the elf was obviously anxious to get back to his familiarity of books, and I didn't want to keep him from it.
   He turned a corner, and we were face to face with a pair of very large doors. Carved into the dark wood were scrolls unwinding and spilling over each other, and books upon books stacked up, some opened with strange symbols etched into the pages. I stepped closer, mesmerized, and gently brushed the ancient wood with my fingertips. It was, surprisingly, smooth under my touch, and soft. Behind me, I could hear Oskal humming with a proud air. He moved up next to me, wrapping his hand around the sterling handle while easily balancing the huge book in his other hand.
   "Beautiful, isn't it?" Oskal breathed, his voice taking that tone again: soft and in awe, almost. "Carved by the queen's great-grandfather himself. He's the reason our libraries are as grand as they are."
   "They're splendid." I breathed, stroking the pages and mysterious symbols with an unusual gentleness. "Never have I seen anything like it. You elves are so…beautiful, indeed."
   Oskal smiled, slow and shy, as he pulled open the door. A wave of breeze hit me right away, coming from the large, open windows right across the room. Pale red curtains danced about with the wind, looking like the shadows of a night fire. Then, with timid steps, I entered the library, completely overwhelmed by the capacity of books.
   Instead of walls, except for the windows, bookshelves were there, stretching upwards into the dark depths of the high ceiling. It gave the impression of going on forever, and it certainly looked like it did. I looked to my left and right, only seeing rows and rows of shelves on either side. In the center aisle were desks and chairs, all piled with books and parchment. Feathered quills were scattered about, and inkpots were plentiful. A few elves were scattered about, some hunched over books while scratching away furiously on a piece of parchment while others traversed the rows of books, just searching. None looked up at our entrance, too focused on their work.
   It was amazing, and I knew the book keeper back home, a homely older man called Terrance, would move in and stay right between two desks. I pictured him doing so, and a laugh escaped from my lips. Embarrassed and worried that Oskal would think I was being rude, I clasped a hand to my mouth in what I hoped looked like astonishment. Although, my laughter quickly turned cold at the assumption that Terrance was probably dead. I lowered my hand, brushing a strand of loose hair behind my ear. Clearing my throat, I turned back to Oskal.
   "Guardians, this is..." I trailed off, trying to think of the appropriate word. "Incredible. It's remarkable, Oskal. Truly."
   "I'm glad you think that way, Princess. Most are impressed with the Charthian Libraries."
   "I'd say more than impressed." I murmured, running my fingers across the binding of the books on a nearby shelf. "As magnificent as this is, where do we start? I may need a map for this spectacle."
   "Follow me, please."
   I paused, my fingers still resting on the spine of a book without the strange symbols, but instead the Common Text. I titled my head to the side, squinting to read the small print. Humans and How To Disassemble Then Reassemble.
   All the food I shoved down my throat that morning was suddenly and very rapidly traveling back up. I brought a hand to my mouth, attempting to hold back the vomit. A second passed, and the regurgitated food slowly slid back down my throat. I turned sharply to Oskal, who was waiting with annoyance a few feet away.
   "What is this?" I cried, my shrill voice carrying throughout the library as I pointed accusingly at the book.
   Confused and impatient, Oskal approached briskly with a furrowed brow. He shoved his glasses back up his nose as he bent down to read the spine. The book keeper winced, standing back up again.
   "There was a time when the elves were…interested in human biology." He explained hesitantly, his orange eyes clearly avoiding mine. "That was millennia ago, though, Princess. If anything, that book should be in our archive, not out in the open like this. My apologizes. I shall personally see to it once we're done here."
   I could only nod in affirmation, my lips sucked in and my eyes wide with horror. Oskal put his hand gently on my arm as a gesture to follow, and I had to catch myself before ripping away from his touch. Although this…interest, as Oskal said, had been long gone, it was now a constant thought in my head. We're not that different, are we? Why would they dissect us, open us up and then put us back together…?
   "Princess," Oskal was saying, only bringing me away from my thoughts because he used my title. "We have a whole section dedicated to human legends and myths. They are very intriguing to us."
   "Just like humans themselves, right?" I added a bit harshly, crossing my arms as my eyes roved over the familiar letters, checking for anything else I should be wary of. "Sorry, don't be offended. I realize that you had nothing to do with that. I'm just…"
   I trailed off, my eyes catching the title of a certain book with looping, golden letters that spelled out: The Golden Maiden, A Human "Myth". My fingers curled around the spine, pulling it carefully from the shelf. Oskal hovered behind me, five other books held in his arms. He grinned, nodding towards a table not far from us. I plopped down on the stiff chair, not really think much about the worn down seat below me as I opened the book.
   The first page was an introduction written in the same script along the spine: loopy, neat, and punctual. I paused a few seconds to scan the few paragraphs, which included something that looked like a disclaimer for something, but my attention was wondering what lied beyond this page. My wrist twitched, turning to the next page. Instead of writing, though, there were illustrations. And they were even more beautiful than what I encountered in the hallways of the palace.
   It was a staff with a shaft of what looked like pure gold, shaded with an expert artistic hand. Atop the shaft was an elaborate design of twisted gold metal that resembled a sun, each prong stretching and reaching in different directions towards some unseen point. The prongs were centered on a large, pale and almost opaque, orb at the base of the staff. All of it looked to be pulsing, glowing right off the page.
My fingers gingerly ran over the page, the ancient paints still holding faithfully true, barely crumbling at my touch. Still, I withdrew my hands into my lap. My emerald eyes roved over the illustration, taking in every detail of this glowing staff. I blinked when coming upon writing, the black letters suddenly stark by the gold staff. I leaned forward a bit, pushing the same loose strand of hair back behind my ear. The script read:
   True, no one but the Maiden herself knows what the Scepter of Eternal Light looks like for certain, but many have claimed to see it. With their help as well as my own memory, I was able to do a rough sketch of the Scepter. I realize I am not the best artist, and this sketch does not do the Scepter justice.
   I scoffed under my breath before reading on. Not the best artist, my bottom.
   Only the Maiden can wield this magnificent object of pure light. With a mere swipe of this Scepter, all the shadows lurking in the land will cringe away and pull back into nothing…
   It went on with more description and such, but my mind began to wander again. With more reverence now, I turned the page with care to come across a few other illustrations. One was of a hooded being with a white cloak and a pale yellow dress that flowed about, past the feet. In her hands was a plain, golden staff. Under the hood, there wasn't much to see. In fact, the face and it's already vague features was smeared, like the artist changed his mind about revealing the being's identity and quickly erased it at the last second. Curious, my eyes shifted to the short description scrawled underneath:
   Claramond, or the Bright Protector in the ancient language, is said to be the Guardian of the Scepter. She stands guard, vigilant, at the entrance to the Golden Sanctum. She makes sure that no one but the Chosen Maiden enters the place. Some call her Aradia, or Goddess of Witches, but none are exactly sure why. I wish I knew more of this fascinating sentinel.
   Squinting, I brought the book closer to my face in attempt to see this Claramond's face more clearly. If anything, it made it more blurry. With a grumble, I placed the book back on the table, glancing up to see Oskal sitting across from me. A rather large stack of books was resting next to him, and his orange eyes were watching me. I sighed, a smile spreading across my face.
   "Incredible." I said, my voice hushed much like Oskal's when he spoke of his culture. "I didn't realize that there was so much about the Maiden…"
   "Indeed." said Oskal, his tone matching mine. "You see, my people are very fascinated with the other species of the land, humans, especially."
   "You mean there are other species than elves and humans?!" I interrupted, eyes widening at the idea of encountering a whole new species.
   "Your myths are interesting, to say the least," The book keeper continued, giving me a slightly amused look that told me that he was not going to answer my question any time soon. "We gather all we can about anything that catches our eye, which, as you could probably tell from our copious amount of books, is a lot of things, and record it for our own keeping. Of course, we give credit where it's due. But, the Maiden especially was intriguing to my people. We scoured the Kingdoms for anything and everything, and our collection got bigger and bigger, but I must say that this journal is the most important book of about the Maiden." He paused here to tap the page. "Go on, Princess. I think the next page will be…fascinating to you."
   I raised an eyebrow in suspicion, but complied. As the slightly-aged page turned at my hand, I nearly fell out of my chair. A cry of shock flew from my lips, and it nearly was drawn out into a scream. Bringing a hand to my open mouth for about the fourth time that day, my eyes widened so much that it hurt. I leaned forward, meeting the eerily familiar emerald eyes of the woman drawn into this journal.
   It was like looking into a mirror, from my eyes to my slightly turned up nose. What was I doing in this journal about the Maiden…? Frantically, I removed my startled gaze from the intense green eyes staring blankly back at me to the rather messy writing underneath it:
   Just like the Scepter, none have seen the face of the Maiden for she is reincarnated in a different girl every time she returns. However, I have received a vision from the Guardians themselves. Of course, none believe me, but I don't need their belief. I know what I saw, what the Guardians blessed me with. It was the face of the Maiden who will step forward years from now, maybe even centuries, and she will be the most significant and powerful Maiden of them all. She will banish the Darkness for the longest time in all of history. I pray that I am still alive to grace her presence.
   "That's me." I sputtered, pointing at the drawing as I gaped up at Oskal.
   The elf furrowed his brow in confusion, as if those two words I spoke were in a different language unknown to him. He titled his head, pushing his glasses back up his nose.
   "Well, of course it's you, Princess." He said, like the answer was obvious. "You are the Golden Maiden. Haven't you figured that out by now?"