Oracle - The Brewton-Parker College Review

The Pendant
Tiffany Stevens
Grand Prize Winner 2003 Young Writers’ Conference

Aerenda sat in the shadows of many boughs, knowing that soon someone would come to see where she had gone. Her quiver and bow were slung carelessly to one side, her cloak thrown over them. She sat and breathed in the smell of the forest as the wind played lazily across her face. A small fox cub was chasing butterflies in the glen. As the fox’s scarlet streaked past, the sun glinted on something. Curiosity overthrowing caution, Aerenda crept forward and examined the object. It was a pendant, set with crystals and one emerald gleaming in the middle.
Torrents of footsteps sounded on the dirt path as Loraine, her sister, ran swiftly through the forest. Quickly stuffing the jewel inside her tunic, Aerenda straightened to greet her sibling.
“’Lo, Lori!” she said, using the nickname of her sister.
“Father wants you back home. Says you’ve got to get ready for the ceremony,” panted Loraine, who was quite winded.
As they headed back to the village, talking excitedly about the upcoming event, a tall, dark-haired man stepped onto the path.
“Hurry up! For heaven’s sake Aerenda, put on your cloak! Loraine, straighten your hair!” called the man impatiently.
The ceremony that was being held had no name to speak of. It was held so that the young maidens in the Elven village would celebrate the turning of the seasons. Tonight Motaki, the elder, would come to the pyre and light the dead wood that winter had left.
The girls hurried forward to take their places. As Motaki stepped slowly toward the pyre, a glint of light caught his eye. He turned and saw Aerenda, and beckoned her forward.
“What is that around your neck?” he asked innocently.
“She pulled out the pendant and Motaki gasped, clutching his heart.
“Elder! Motaki! What is it!?”
He glanced up and pointed a shaking finger at Aerenda.
“You...have...been...chosen...” he choked.
As you can well imagine, Aerenda hadn’t the faintest idea what this strange announcement meant. But other people were gasping excitedly, pointing, muttering to one another.
“Chosen for what?” asked Loraine, who also didn’t understand.

“To be enchantress,” answered a young woman in deep blue robes. “To try and overthrow me.” The woman surveyed the girl with a look of savage triumph. “I knew this day would come. So I waited, and I watched. Now that I see my challenger I see I had naught to fear. A little girl no more than fourteen, challenging me? I, Narcissus, am much more powerful than that!” exclaimed she, while laughing hysterically. In a flash of light, she had gone, without the swish of a cloak or the tread of feet to announce her departure.
Aerenda tried to wrap her mind around it, but couldn’t. Enchantress? Her?? She could barely do normal magic! Oh why did she have to pick up that pendant?
“You must leave at once,” said Motaki. “Take the swiftest horse you can and follow the trail. In time you will make your way to Narcissus’ dwelling in the swamp.”
Taking the white mare, Denya, Aerenda at once set off, still confused but determined. She rode swift as the wind with her quiver slung on her shoulder and her sword swinging freely from her belt. Into the day and long into the night she rode, until they made camp at last by the edge of a river. Scooping the cold clear water into her flask, she then let Denya drink, when suddenly an eerie cry rose from the distance, like the call of a falcon. In sight came a gigantic bird with a wingspan of forty feet and talons so sharp they could get through rock. Aerenda cried out as the bird swooped down and ducked just as amethyst rays of light criss-crossed over her head, making a sort of violet dome. The monstrous falcon swooped once more, but as it touched the rays of the dome it shrieked a cry of pain and died. The amethyst rays immediately vanished to the astonishment of Aerenda.
“Did I do that?” asked she to Denya, as though expecting her to answer.
Gathering together that which had not been torn apart by the bird, they went on and found themselves on a barren plain with much humidity but none of the landscape ever changed, or seemed to be. They walked for hours in this manner, till something jolted Aerenda’s memory. She had heard of this place, and unless she was mistaken, they had wandered onto the Lost Plains.

(To be continued . . .)