Word count: 1241 words
Shelley had too much on her mind; about her father, about her mother, about Giselle...
She just didn't know who to trust, who to believe in, who to give her love to anymore. Even Iona, the woman who raised her since she was an infant, was being cast in doubt. All of this was provoked by the news of the mother she grew up never knowing and her untimely death.
I need to get away from this. All of this.
She had been ignoring it since she gained her powers as a page, but it was now soaking in and as vibrant as ever like the flute song stuck in the corners of her mind. Shelley powered up as Slievenamon and slipped out of her home to head towards the nearby park. The fountain where she had met Phact previously was bear of any life and, as the page cast her gaze out to the star-speckled sky, she couldn't have picked a clearer night to give in and let the call of space consume her. Swallowing, she said with her head held high, mind clear, and her right hand wound tight around her shell flute:
"I pledge my life and loyalty to Neptune, and to Slievenamon. I humbly request your aid, so that in return I may give you mine."
Suddenly, Slievenamon was overcome by a pulling sensation, and before she had a chance to open her eyes, she felt an unforeseen light overcome her form and thrust her outside Earth's gravity. When she was finally aware of herself again, she opened her eyes slowly to reveal the sight of a tall mountain before her gaze. An alien comfort overcame her bosom to the point it provoked small tears in her eyes and a hand over her mouth. She had a deep desire to cry in relief, but she didn't know why. Finally, when the thought came to her, she gasped and sunk to her knees.
I'm home.
It took Slievenamon a moment to collect her bearings, but when she did, she pushed herself up to standing and wiped tears away on the back of her gloved hand. She turned her head left and right, trying to decide which way to go, before opting left and continuing in that direction. As her aqua eyes scanned the details of her wonder, Slievenamon came to the conclusion there wasn't much to her it save the looming white temple at the very top. Her heart was pulling her there, but she continued to round the base to the low hill that was coming into view.
I feel like there is... something important in this direction. No, wait, it's like I know there is.
Her heeled boots crunched against dry coral and bits of seashells as she marched up the hill. When she breached the crest, a thick vat of mixed emotions flooded her bosom; eliciting an embarrassed flush and deep sadness from within her. Looking down to the strands of eel grass sprouting up from between the remnants of sea life, Slievenamon pursed her lips.
This is... I think they... No, I called this Carrigmaclea. Something is here, but... Her eyes traced between the tracks of dirt. Where? She took a few steps forward and came upon a mound of dirt at the center of the hill. There. It is definitely there.
Bending down to her knees, Slievenamon scooped some of the dirt aside and in the small hole she spotted a teal-colored trinket. Picking it up between forefinger and thumb, she blew at it to clear the dirt still clinging to it, and spied a familiar emblem. Her emblem, to be precise.
Did I bury this here? she thought. Why would I do that...? Isn't this ring important?
Slievenamon shook her head at her past self, grasping at guesses in the dark. Sighing, she decided to not dwell on the reason for long, and slipped the ring on over her left hand's middle finger before casting her eyes to the summit of the mountain. That was her next destination.
The climb was long and tiring. The page literally tripped over to the cairn at the top of Slievenamon because she felt her calves beginning to give out. Catching onto it, she let out a fatigued sigh that soon turned to another gasp—this one of awe. From where she stood, she could see far into the landscape of Neptune. With the sun radiating off the water and waves of the planet, Slievenamon couldn't help but think the sight was gorgeous. The most beautiful one to lay her eyes upon. For a moment, she didn't want to leave it, but the tug toward the temple was like an insistent tapping on her shoulder to go to there. Pushing herself from the cairn, she continued in the temple's direction and shoved the large, wooden doors open.
Immediately upon her entrance, the sound of a cacophony of voices, raucous laughter, and the the clatter of a metal pan filled and then died in her ears in an instant. This provoked a deep frown on her face and she clutched the metal handles to the temple's doors hard between her hands.
In a voice not her own, she thought, This place is always a damn mess!
Spooked by this, Slievenamon hesitated before entering the temple. What... in the world? she thought, but then shook her head. It's that again... That knowing or something. I don't know what's going on, but again, I shouldn't dwell... It'd just mean more questions than answers.
Parting the doors wide enough, light flooded into the entirety of the temple, revealing the mess she was only mentally aware of. To say that the interior was simply a mess was an understatement—it looked completely wrecked. Metal jugs were scattered everywhere; on tables, on mantles, next to carved stone seats, several overturned as if kicked out of the way. Slievenamon picked one and gave it a reluctant sniff, only to turn her nose up at the centuries old stench of residual wine. A long crack ran up the middle of the temple and onto the wall; not deep enough to bring the structure down, but likely brought on by a powerful force. Tattered banners featuring the same emblem on her ring fluttered from the slight draft of the open doors; torn and seemingly beyond repair. Slievenamon continued to look over the temple's contents with interest, trying to ignore the disgust welling up within her with all of the evidence of disarray.
Walking passed all of this, the page continued along from the front of the temple and to the back. She passed several doors, but she didn't try to open them, as there was only one that caught her interest for now. It was the source of the tugging and, when she stood before the door, it tripled in intensity. Swallowing, Slievenamon reached a hand out to open it, but the knob didn't shift. Blinking, the page jiggled it a few more times, and suddenly found herself disappointed.
It's locked, she said with a sigh, dropping her shoulders. All of that build up for nothing...
She felt inclined to search for the key now, but figured she had spent enough time on her wonder and this would've been a good chance to head back home. Shutting her eyes, she repeated the pledge she had said before, and returned to the fountain from where she had departed Earth.
