NOVEL NEXT Chapter 21: A Ghost
Anezka's Pov
Adrian tugged me out of our majestic castle, the grand gate looming before us like a sentinel watching over our realm. In front of the gate stood three chariots, each a striking vision against the backdrop of the castle.
The first chariot was adorned with a pair of majestic black horses, their glossy coats shimmering in the sunlight; it was occupied by the confident figures of Aella and Aiden.
The second chariot, pulled by a sturdy pair of chestnut brown horses, housed Hayes, whose demeanor matched the warm earthiness of his steeds.
The final chariot, distinguished by the radiant white horses, seemed to beckon to us, and Adrian, with an air of purpose, guided me toward it. Once we nestled into the plush interior of the chariot, the charioteer's skilled hands took hold of the reins and steered us away from the castle, driving deeper into the embrace of the vast, untamed forest.
I gazed out the window, but my restless thoughts became too much to bear. Turning my focus to Adrian, I noticed he was momentarily captivated by the lush greenery flashing past us, as if he were absorbing the beauty of nature itself.
Sensing my lingering gaze, he turned to me with a playful smirk and quipped, "Don't bore holes into my head, sister. Feel free to ask me whatever is puzzling you." I huffed, annoyance bubbling within me.
I found his teasing increasingly irritating, particularly since he never seemed to ask anything nicely. But I pushed my frustration aside and inquired, "Why do we all have chariots with different colored horses?" His eyes sparkled with delight as he leaned in closer, clearly enjoying the exchange.
"Wow, sister, your powers of observation are impressive! It's truly amazing!" He straightened up, fully engaging with me as he began to explain.
"To answer your question, we are the children of the Queen—that's why our horses are white. White horses symbolize greater power and prestige. Aella and Aiden, being our middle cousins, ride the black ones, while Hayes has the brown pair. This hierarchy is reflected in the colors of our chariots, allowing the people of our kingdom to recognize us more easily as we ride through our lands."
As I absorbed his explanation, I found myself utterly baffled by the level of importance that hierarchy and status held for these individuals. My mind was whirling with thoughts when the chariot came to a sudden stop, snapping me back to reality.
"Let's go, sister! We've arrived," Adrian called out, his voice breaking through my reverie as he gracefully stepped onto the ground. As we disembarked, a palpable sense of purpose enveloped the group.
Everyone began to make their way towards an enormous tree that stood sentinel among the surroundings, leaving the chariots behind like forgotten relics. I followed closely, curiosity guiding my steps.
As we approached the majestic tree—its thick trunk and sprawling branches crowned with vibrant green leaves—it became clear that this was no ordinary elm. The group paused, standing still in a reverent hush, as if awaiting a significant moment to unfold beneath the ancient boughs.
As we stood under the soft glow of the overhead sunlight, ten interminable minutes passed in a restless silence. Impatience began to seep into my bones, urging me to break the stillness.
I leaned closer to Adrian, who seemed unfazed, and asked, "Where's your almighty mentor, Selmor? You spoke so highly of him, yet here we are waiting for him to show up." Before Adrian could respond, a snicker sliced through the air, and I turned to my right.
Aella, with her signature smirk firmly in place, stood just beside me, her eyes sparkling with mischief. She had clearly overheard my question. "He is very punctual; it's just that you aren't. You joined our family so late that now everyone has extra work to do," she retorted, dripping with sarcasm.
A flicker of irritation threatened to rise within me, but I quickly quelled it. I had learned long ago to ignore her jabs, knowing well that Aella was the daughter of Aunt Nesryn. It was no shock that she would mirror her mother's sharp tongue and haughty demeanor.
Our conversation was abruptly interrupted by a powerful gust of wind that swept through the air like a fierce spirit, compelling us to shield our faces with our hands. For five long minutes, the wind howled, creating a wild symphony of rustling leaves and swirling debris.
As the tempest finally subsided, I tentatively uncovered my face, only to find a dark, translucent shadow hovering ominously over the ancient elm tree. In that fleeting moment, it felt as if I were witnessing a ghost, gracefully swirling with the wind, dancing intimately with the fluttering leaves above.
A chill ran down my spine, sending goosebumps cascading across my skin. I was so shocked by this eerie spectacle that I lost track of my cousins' presence. Desperate to fend off the creeping sense of solitude, I tightly grasped Adrian's hand, seeking comfort.
But just as the shadow began to coalesce into a figure resembling a human, panic surged through me. I let out a terrified shriek, "ahhhhh, ghost !!!!!" my voice breaking the tense stillness around us, reverberating like a haunting echo through the now-calm space.
With a surge of urgency, Adrian stepped in front of me and enveloped me in a protective embrace. I buried my face in his warm arms, desperately trying to shield myself from the chilling sight of the ghostly, translucent shadow lurking nearby.
He began to stroke my back soothingly, his voice a gentle whisper, "Shh, sister, it's not a ghost. Take a deep breath; no one is there. We're all here with you, and we will keep you safe. Trust your brother, okay? Just breathe and calm down."
As the minutes dragged on, my heart gradually slowed its frantic pace, and the rising panic began to ebb away. Adrian tenderly wiped the tears from my cheeks, and it dawned on me that I hadn't even noticed how much I had been crying.
Once the storm of emotions settled, I managed to murmur, "I'm fine, Adrian. Really, I'm alright now. You can let me go." With a lingering hesitation, he finally released me, standing protectively by my side as I gathered myself, my resolve slowly returning.
I took a deep breath and steeled myself to face the ominous elm tree once more, its twisted branches silhouetted against the twilight sky, a reminder of the frights that had nearly overcome me.
————————————————————
"Some people are ghosts before they are dead."
- By Alice Feeney