Writing has been going slow but it has been happening so that is always a good thing as I feel the internal blocks start to give way. Letting go of old habits of self-criticism and fear is a slow process for me as is turning to a more joyful outlook on life knowing I have the power to choose better for myself. My children can be my best teachers as they remind me when I get too wrapped up in my doubts that the need to play is a universal right. As in right now! So off we go to the zoo on a cloudy wet day to enjoy and learn about the world beyond our little house of safety. I did want to continue to share my story so here is the next part.
And now, here she was chasing faerie tales. So many times, too many times, Katy had wondered if she had imagined that the tale had been told especially for her in the first place. After all, would it not have made more sense for one of the big strapping farm lads to go off in search of glory and save a maiden trapped in a crystal? Not a skinny eighteen year old with a head full of dreams and a heart yearning for adventure. ‘The trouble is that the young men I know lack imagination and I have too much of it’, she thought ruefully. All those years had past and not once could she shake the feeling that the story belonged to her, that she alone could free the princess. ‘How is that for false vanity’, she laughed to herself. “Or perhaps it is only I that is foolish enough to try.” Katy spoke aloud to the crashing ocean that was churning below her cliff topped perch. She sighed.
For years, her practical side had fought with the dreams she saw at night. For years the image of the young maiden trapped, unable to cry, unable to dream, frozen in an immovable cage haunted Katy’s dreams. No words or sounds could be uttered but a feeling of such pain and longing to be free could not be denied and Katy felt she had no choice but to try. Dreams of a woman trapped in a cold lonely place, her silent cries for release echoing in Katy’s mind as she woke up every morning. They had become more and more intense, more vivid every night until she could stand it no longer.
‘Please understand papa, I could not stay. Not even if the dreams had never come at night’, she begged to him silently across the distance miles. She hoped he could come to accept her decision even if he could not understand it. She knew she would never be happy living the life that was expected of her. Growing up in the inn, listening and watching the men drink their ales, faces ruddy with sun and drink, telling the same tired jokes and exaggerated exploits had given her a glimpse of her expected fate at a very young age. Year after year she watched and dreamed of something different. She wanted more. The very thought of settling down with one of the farm boys was enough to make her scream. Dull, earnest farmhands with no imagination and less intelligence could never satisfy her heart. Looking out across the horizon, perched on a lonely overhang, far from the provincial prison, she still shuddered at the fate that she left.
Perhaps it was her memory of that long ago bard with had colored her impressions of the small town. Katy sighed as her thought drifted once again to that evening and of him. She had half fallen in love with him at the tender age of five. ‘Foolish child’, she smiled. ‘Grew into a foolish woman. Is that how I got here?’ She wondered as she watched the ocean rhythmically wash wave after wave against the rocks below. She felt her tired mind’s questions and doubts grow quiet as she let the steady motion of the waves wash over her mind chanting its spell until her thoughts took her back to that evening so long ago.
The bard causally moved a chair closer to the fire and somehow managed to give the impression that the rickety old thing was as grand and as comfortable as a throne. “Please forgive my lack of song, Master Salte, for the tale I have in mind lacks the music that carries the other stories along. I find that as the warms of the fire falls on me, calls to me a little told tale of cold and silence.
Katy crept closer as he began. Not many were paying attention except for her and Papa. He did not demand attention but his voice weaved a spell that slowly spun through the room as his tale captured the listeners one by one until his voice was the only one echoing throughout the room. Though tired and exhausted, his natural charm called to the hopeful hearts of his listeners. Even Mistress Abbie was not immune as she listened by the door to the kitchen.
“I would image that you have no shortage of local tales but” glancing briefly at Katy’s enrapt expression with a secret smile, “I can see from the look in you face that a story of far away places and dreams will better satisfy.” He looked at Papa, never once betraying Katy’s presence as she felt a strange thrill that his words where for her alone. “Ah yes, I can see form the gleam in your eyes that there is an interest there!” He laughed a low warm laugh and Master Salte laughed with him.
“How far shall we travel? To the sea with the wild storms that challenge even the best of sailors, or perhaps we shall go to the mountains and beyond where gold lies hidden from sight and the paths twist and turn, leading a traveler astray. Or shall we go even further to the coldest of planes, where even the mighty sea must give way to ice settling into a deceptively clear calmness, reflecting the light and land in a mirror of insight.” He sighed a melancholy sigh. “That is where she is trapped in a cage of crystal.”
The sudden crash of thunder roared along the shore and broke Katy from her dreaming, her reverie. The impending storm sent currents of urgency through her, and yet she stayed and listened as each wave came crashing in with increasing ferocity. The wind blew roughly at her face until her cheeks were course as the rocks she was standing on. Katy knew she would feel the sting later and still she stood facing the oncoming storm refusing to give in until she had done what she need to do. She drew her cloak tightly around her as a weak shield of protection, holding on as the wind made effort after effort to steal it away. Her eyes watered with pain as she scanned the horizon, uncertain of what she will find, stubborn determination warring with the doubt deep inside her. And she knew that she must go on as she decided to enter the little village that she hoped held answers for her.
Once Katy had made up her mind to leave, that she could no longer ignore the call of adventure and discovering the truth of that long ago tale, she traveled towards the Rainan sea. She had enough money to get by but not so much to attract bandits. She knew that somehow she would need to supplement her funds if she were to travel for a longer time. For now her first task was to uncover the origins of the story. ‘My quest may be foolish,’ she had told herself, ‘but I do not have to be.”
It was far more difficult of a task the she had thought though her confidence in her path was strong at the outset. She traveled cautiously for she was alone with only her skills to protect her. Some might say an easy target and they would not be far off, she admitted to her self. Her pace was slow and careful of necessity. While she was a green adventurer, she was as prepared as she could be and her initial destination was not completely unknown to her. With as much research as she could uncover, she had narrowed down her starting point to three possible villages along the rocky coastline heading northward.
Maps were a rarity, not just in their small village but also throughout the kingdom. In this though, she had a bit of luck in the year before she felt the compulsion to leave. One of her customers was a kindly well-traveled gentleman who had developed a fondness for Katy and found her refreshingly intelligent in the small community. She had persuaded the older map to lend her his precious map for an evening and had drawn a rough copy. It had taken her all night but was well worth the effort. She had particularly studied the northern coastlines. Filled with caution and trepidation but confidence in a piece of paper, she had set out.
The first two villages had been of little help in her search and the road was long. It was with diminishing hopes that she set her sights of the tiny village of Gillony on the Northern Coast.
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