Word count: 1570 words
"All laws of the planet... Do not disrespect... Female persuasion... on the summit of Slievenamon."
The page paced back and forth in what she had guessed to be the private study of past Slievenamon. Like the rest of the temple, its walls and floor were of an off white stained brown here or there from rain that soaked through the cracks. In the back of the study, a large, square hole with a grill design was cut into the very stone of the temple and allowed sunlight into the entirety of the room. The white rays washed over rotted teak bookcases that seemed to bend under the weight of all of the books they carried. In fact, books seemed to be everywhere, not just on the bookcases—every surface from the wrought iron writing desk, to the floors, to even the small alcove beside the window were covered in stacks of reading material. Save for the metal etching of her emblem that hung above the bookcases on the wall, the study lacked ornamentation. For some reason or another, Slievenamon found this to her liking despite thinking the room could've used more.
Stopping momentarily, the redhead leaned onto the desk to think, but withdrew when she heard a metallic grind from beneath. Though the piece didn't give, Slievenamon decided not to do it again for fear that it would break. Her legs were tired, but not from the climb like before; when the page had arrived for her second trip to her wonder, she had circled the mountain to the northern side and discovered a path that made it easier to trek up. Her climb the first time seemed to be on the steeper side of the mountain, which explained the aches that persisted in her for a few days after returning to Earth.
Slievenamon continued to search her memory for recitation, but she lost herself at the fourth law. Sighing, the page returned to the desk and picked up the teal, leather-bound tome with the emblem of Slievenamon on its cover. The pages, yellowed and stiffened from rain, crinkled as she smoothed the book open to the first few. In handwriting too elegant and neat to be her own, Slievenamon skimmed her eyes over the list of rules written within.
Knocking a knuckle to her temple, Slievenamon huffed. "Ugh, that's it!" she said before slapping the book shut and returning to pacing and reciting again.
When she first came upon the private study of her past self, she was struck with awe. Slievenamon felt all of the books were hers, but when she picked up a few and skimmed through their contents, she could remember nothing about them. Her casual searching caused her to come upon the book she held now in the only drawer of the desk. Flipping through it revealed more things than she realized; it was like a guide written to the future descendants from the first Slievenamon. As a page, there was a number of simple tasks she was to complete before being relinquished of the title. The very first among it was to know by heart the rules of the mountain.
Slievenamon dived into the tasks with eagerness; having something to do besides eradicating the forces of evil. Since its discovery, she had continued to pace back and forth in the study trying to remember the rules word for word; that was to blame for the pain in her legs. It was hard to tell how long she'd been at it, but considering the afternoon sun of the planet was giving away to early evening, it had to have been a few hours at most. After another half an hour, Slievenamon stopped and pounded her palms on the surface of the writing desk. This time, it creaked louder, but the page ignored it; she was now brimming with confidence.
"I think I've got everything covered!" she cried. "Time..." She glanced to the window frantically. "Crap, I only have a few hours. Gotta... Gotta hurry!"
Rushing out of the room, Slievenamon followed the path of calcified starfish that cut through the garden in the back of the temple to a white spire some distance away. She had only studied the structure from a distance, so when she entered inside through the open arch, her mouth dropped in awe.
"The Tower of Tombs..." she said to herself. "The place where all of of Slieve— I mean, my descendants were laid to rest."
Eyeing the spiral staircase, Slievenamon approached and began to climb it. Her eyes passed over the many paintings that lined the walls as she descended upwards; they were all portraits of the Slievenamons before her as pages. When she reached the top of the climb, she came upon an empty portrait and stopped at it. She traced the rectangular space with her eyes before gliding it down to the silver filigree writing at the bottom of the frame.
"Gráinne..." she said. "Was that my name?" Slievenamon look to the penultimate portrait and the name beneath it. "Eithne. Was that my mother?"
The page would've dawned on her past self more if not for the fact that night was slowing approaching on the planet Neptune. Perking up, she silently cursed her curiosity and darted up into the room at the top of the tower. Here, in a circular curve fanned out like a hand of cards were the sepulchers of all those portraits she passed on her journey up. Erected in the middle of the room was the geis—the structure she was to make her pledge to. She had only during the daytime to do so; when night hit on the planet, its magic went dormant until the first ray of morning hit it.
Her first course of action was to play the song of her knighthood. Licking her lips, she pressed her shell flute to her lips, and played the melody in her head she had soothed herself with every night since she powered up her first time. Each note caused a turquoise light to pulse from the geis and slowly inch it to life until a large, teardrop-shaped stone parted from the pillar and floated upward. Now restored to its fullest, Slievenamon took a deep breath, and first recited the pledge she had said to reach her wonder:
"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."
The teardrop-shaped rose in the air a little higher above the pillar. Ten balls broke from it next and began to orbit about it counterclockwise—one each for each law of the summit. From there, Slievenamon knew to begin.
"All laws of the planet and her lady Neptune apply to the summit of Slievenamon," she said steadily as if reading from a book. The first ball of the ten glowed, affirming her words.
"Do not disrespect the knight or her patrons on the summit of Slievenamon." The second ball dutifully lit up.
"Only those of the female persuasion may breech the summit of Slievenamon." This rule made the teen wince a bit. Yeesh, kind of harsh there, she thought. The third ball glowed.
"Men or those who identify heavily under a masculine appeal are not permitted on the summit of Slievenamon."
"Children are strictly forbidden, no matter their identity, on the summit of Slievenamon."
"Do not disrupt the wildlife on the summit of Slievenamon."
"Do not destroy or access impermissible areas on the summit of Slievenamon."
Slievenamon hesitated on the eighth rule. She found herself at a loss and began to steadily panic. Conduct... Conduct or behavior... Err... Crap, w-what was it... What was...? Glancing out one of the open windows of the spire, her stomach lurched as she noticed sunlight receding behind the waves of the planet's surface.
That panic seemed to jump start her memory and she cried, "Conduct or behavior in and around the temple not conforming to the sanctity of the temple will not be tolerated on the summit of Slievenamon!", causing the corresponding ball to come to life.
"T-two more..." she muttered beneath her breath. "Sacred artifacts or items originally found in the temple may not be removed from the summit of Slievenamon," Slievenamon said. "Permission must be given first before any of these rules are broken on the summit of Slievenamon. All rules are hereby under the duress of the knight of Slievenamon and can be added to or changed at will. Please respect her desires at all times."
When the final ball glowed, Slievenamon's shoulders hunched as she let out a sharp sigh. She watched as the ball fit themselves back into the teardrop-shaped stone and it settle back onto the pillar. The energy that had glowed from it seemed into its base and began to followed the intricate etchings along the floor and walls of the tower. Before she knew it, the entirety of the spire glowed white and she felt a warmth in her bosom that jerked her attention toward the portrait where she had once saw her name. There, in a very faded image, appeared her face, adding her to the lineage of pages to have come before her. Smiling, Slievenamon glanced to the window and noticed the sky darken on Neptune. Figuring that was enough for the day, the page exited the tower, and announced her pledge to return to Earth.
