Villains and Fairy Tales (Journal Entry #122)

It gave me the shivers. To know that…my people…somewhere… Everything depends on the Woald now? There are less than eight hundred of us in this House. We are the smallest that I know of, especially in Dardanos. I know most of the young females, I think. They are my cousins, after all. And…to know that some of them, some of my sisters, even, could be fated for this?

It terrifies me. I don’t know who I should discuss it with. Ambrea would tell me not to worry, that everything would work out as it was supposed to in the end.

She is rather fatalistic in some ways.

Kellis…Kellis would be so afraid. I can not do that to her. She has enough to worry about now. Riv and Julea and Alaun—no. They would fear needlessly, I think, as well.

I cannot share this with them. 

In my heart, I just know it isn’t safe.

Coty came to me earlier than usual today. I could see worry in her big green eyes. She is a very spirited young female, but as our association has grown, I am finding myself feeling almost motherly to her. 

I greatly sense she needs it. 

But today, it is me that she comforts. “Something’s happened. What?”

I just gave her the book I had highlight. “T-t-this.”

She read it. “Woah. Do you have any clue what it means?”

“My-my-my mother told me some stories. But I don’t know if this is a part of them.” 

I sank onto the foot of my bed, while Coty took the small, cheap desk chair Alaun had brought me months ago. 

“What were they?”

“I thought they were just fairy tales, mostly. Now I am beginning to wonder. There is a villain, of course. But there is almost always a villain in a fairy tale, right?”

“From my experience there is a villain just about everywhere.”

“This villain, he wants to take over the worlds. And he wants someone, my mother called her the great queen in every story, for his own. And she would tell stories of little Woald females, girls really, who would battle him away. But…these are fairy tales. Nothing more.”

“Where can we find these fairy tales? You’re people don’t really write things down, do they?”

I just shook my head. “M-m-my mother’s journals, perhaps? She used to write things down in a language no one but her knew. She said it was…to preserve the secrets of the Woald. She was a gifted story-teller.”

“Like your sister. I read her latest. I’m not certain I’d think a god-like-being is all that sexy. Who wants a guy that much in control of them? But I couldn’t stop reading…it was really good. But if a dark, terrifying godlike monster creature wants to get me naked and do wicked things…I’m going to kick him where it hurts. And run as fast as my short little legs can carry me.”

I burst into laughter at the expression on her face.

I am eternally grateful for this friend I have made here.

“I-I-I will call Alaun. She had Mama’s journals scanned into her computer a year or so ago. She paid Julea $100 to do it last summer. Maybe…maybe there is something we can use?”

“If we just knew someone who could translate an ancient language…” Coty gave a wicked grin. “I think I know just the woman. And good for us… Kindara is bringing Blaire back for a visit in the morning.”

Forever called The Woald (Journal Entry #121)

First, to those who find this tome, whenever it is found, know this. I am of the seeing caste. I see the memories of what have come before, and of the upheavals that await those who will come after. I seek to be neither for, nor against, nore in support of one or in denial of another. It is information I share, to give to our People. For when this is next read, it is because our Time is about to come…

Well, that isn’t exactly a clear opening. Something came at my window, and it interrupted me. I still have not forgotten the strange sort of demon that knocked upon my window so intently all those months ago. It took every bit of courage for me to creep to the lone window, and pull the shades down. 

My room is utilitarian—I didn’t warrant curtains. Unless I could pay for them myself.

A thin vinyl shade was all that protected me from the outside.

I had set a dozen little pots in that windowsill, that I faithfully tend every morning. 

Now…they are little protection if the outside world wants to come for me someday.

I am probably going to die in this hotel. I am starting to get a little used to that idea.

Well, if this is my fate, I am going to go down at least doing something.

Even if it is just trying to solve the mystery of why someone would want to destroy a world that most didn’t even know existed.

Other than being the possible origin of the Dardaptoan and Nellana goddesses, what could be so important about that world now that Dardaptoans wanted it destroyed?

It is the home world of our very creator, shouldn’t it be revered? 

I just kept reading, getting more and more confused as the hours wore on. 

Until I came to the last paragraph of the seventh chapter.

There will come a time, when only a handful of females of our Kind will be all that stands between us, Evalanedea, and the fall of every world now known and to be created. These females…

They will be Woald.

Unmated and alone, fated to die for their sacrifices to the Dardaptoan Kind and the goddess who created us. 

These females…will be our everything.

And they…they are cursed in ways not yet defined. 

But every moment of hope, every drop of Dardaptoan blood depends upon these young females, for if even one fails…all hope for our Kind will be lost for eternity. Even the girl goddess matters less than these…

And they will forever be known as The Woald.

Jume Woald–the dork. (Journal Entry#120)

No one from the sixth floor is allowed outside of the hotel at all, and the guards have doubled. Some of them…have hard hearts, and they frighten me. 

I told this to Coty, and she agreed. Neither of us know what is to happen now.

There have been a dozen Lupoiux attacks on the outlying areas.

My sisters…

Kellis is beside herself. She had been assigned to guard Cass specifically when she is in the hotel, but I suspect there are other, male, guards near. For once, Kellis is not complaining about Kierce being so overprotective.

They have assigned two guards to Coty and her sisters, so her time with me, outside of our rooms, has been greatly curbed.

A part of me is convinced that all of this ties to the goddess. How can it not?

The Lupoiux and Dardaptoans have been enemies for thousands of years, and now we are just supposed to accept each other? And all the things they have done to us?

My own aunt, Adelais, we suspect she was taken by Lupoiux and sold to slavers in a demon world somewhere. She is most likely dead now.

I miss her so much. Yet we are just supposed to forgive those who may have been involved?

I know there are good Lupoiux now—I have met a few here at the hotel—but how many of our people have had the same experiences? How many can just trust the goddess when she is literally in bed with the god of the Lupoiux?

And with what Coty and I overheard…

There has to be something we can do, but what that is, I don’t know yet.

It is late now, close to four a.m. I have my books spread out across my bed. Ambrea had called me this afternoon, said that she had seen something to do with me.

Said that if I keep looking, I will find what I am looking for tonight.

I hate it when she is that cryptic. It’s so annoying. She is a gifted seer, though she has told very few of that power. I suspect it will grow much stronger as she ages. She is in her early 100s now. Most don’t get the full strength of their gifts until twice that. 

It is always irritating when she refuses to tell you more, though.

The same with Theo. 

Why can’t they just tell you when there is something you need to do? Would it really change anything if you knew ahead of time?

I have the final book open now. It is the one that Riv found in the discard pile at the back of the most hushed up aisle of the Dardanos library.

It is very old. The author’s name is very obscured. Illegible.

But does the author of any book truly matter? Isn’t it what is  contained between the cover that matters most?

It felt so old, and battered, and…worthless in my hands.

It is easy to see why it had been discarded so easily. But…if I prescribe to the beliefs that Ambrea has taught me—beliefs the Woald Family crest even symbolizes—then everything happens for a reason.

I was given this book by my sister for a reason.

I just do not yet know what it is.

Just as I was given the computer I type this on now. 

It sits next to the cheap one provided to me by Theo when I first came to this hotel. I prefer the one given me by Nalik Black.

Mostly because everytime I use it I am reminded of ticking off Theo and Cormac that day. 

I know, petty of me, but…I have to have something stuck here, don’t I?

A part of me doesn’t want to open the book. I fear it might change things.

Silly, isn’t it? It is just…old paper and faded ink. 

Perhaps it is just my overactive imagination making me feel this way.

I can be a total…what is the human word?…dork sometimes.

A quick word from Calle

I’ve taken a small vacation from Jume while I finish up a few other projects (and coached kiddo’s softball team–who knew 9-11 year old girls took up sooo much energy!) I’ll have more Jumes to post next week!

One of those projects I’m finishing up is Rebecca and Matt’s book! They are getting a full length novel! After that it’s Jason/Anna, Rand/Jierra, and more!