"Veni, inquit, quia vocavi te"

. . .

"Once upon a time, the great Gods had erected a beautiful castle, carved of gold in all its glory, spread throughout the center of the universe. Each of the twelve heavenly stars lived in their respective towers, the castle had twelve, each with its own story.

Different towers of that castle were called by different names but the most popular of all those parts was Shire Towey tower situated at the centre of the universe, connecting all realm gates. The twelve stars that dwelled in those towers were Knowledge, Time, Water, Earth, Fire, Music, Silence, Love, Bravery, Happiness, Luck, and lastly the one that kept them all together, the prince of all the eleven siblings, the twelfth sibling, Beauty-The most beautiful star that ever existed.

They all ruled beside the gatekeeper in the golden castle just above the purgatory, but Beauty took his responsibilities rather lazily. He was arrogant of his beauty, knowing he was the most beautiful creature in the entire universe. All the gods took twelve days to make him. He was a reflection of all that was goodness. But that would not suffice...For he believed that he was more beautiful than the gods. He would seduce goddess, dancing all his evenings away. Every creature than gave its heart to him, it withered. He could never love anyone else, lest he thought there wouldn't be enough for him.

One day, when he was in the mortal world, eating an orchard, a celestial nymph saw him. And fell in love with him. She begged him to come to the orchard every day, and she would hold presents for him, fruits of various varieties, the sweetest nectar and a pair of loving arms. But all of a sudden, he stopped going. So, she went in search of him, into the Astral realm and found him in the Gatekepper's castle, amid so many creatures so much more beautiful than her."Beauty!" She screamed and asked him why he never came back to her. And he told her, "Nymph of the orchid, you were a pleasant one. So, I have ruined you. And I don't like ruined things," This infuriated the nymph and she cursed him, telling him that he would lose the throne that he was so proud of; his beauty would not save him and neither could any one else who was in relation to him.

As she said that, she turned into a tree and wilted away, and just like her, beauty began drying, his arms, his fingers, dried up of soma, the fluid of eternity. His face cracked up, his eyes turned wrinkly, and he himself, grotesque. He screamed as he watched his enchanted ballroom turn into dust. So he ran as he wrapped himself up in al the shawls that he owned, he ran with his face covered and fell into Lilium, the river to the mortal and disappeared.

The entire golden castle broke down and all the twelve stars living in it separated out in different parts of the human world, forgotten by the heavens, left to choose their own fate." The story teller closed the book and smiled. She had bright brown lips and skin as black ebony. Her eyes and hair though were a sheer contrast of sliver and grey. She wore a long floral frock and long boots beneath it. Her hat covered her eyes at intervals. She was surrounded by a group of children.

"Where did Beauty go?" The children asked."Nobody knows. His body is still missing,""Maybe someone stole it?"She smiled, "Or maybe, he lives in your eyes, look how beautifully they shine, as if beauty himself resides in them," She smiled.She got up with her book,"Tomorrow, I'll read you the tale of Music and his curse of one thousand gods," She smiled at the children."Ms Feline, are all these stories real?" A bronze-haired girl asked her."They are very real, Jevelene."

Ms Feline got up and all the children scrambled away to their homes. She walked away with her books. She walked into her house and looked at the letters in her letterbox. It had been two months since she had been in Italy. The king wanted her back at Alkinshime in Sweden. That was her life as a spy of the magical kingdom of Alkanshime. She had to leave immediately. She was sad she couldn't recite the story of Music to the children. That had always been her favourite.The nine-year-old Jevelene ran through the streets of her town, bright with lively people, the fresh smell of bread and tomatoes. A raven flew over her head, and entered her mansion with her. It sat on her father's shoulder. He had the same hair as her. A dull shade of bronze, freckled with silver strands and honey-brown eyebrows.

"Oh, there's the most beautiful little thing in this world!" He exclaimed at his child."Not more than Beauty, surely!" She whispered under her breath. "Where have you been, sweetheart?" He asked as he fixed his clothes. He was a merchant. Often he would go away, and return after months, even years sometimes with a vast wealth for nether nations."With Ms Feline!""Oh? Did she tell some story again?""Yes! She told me about the star, Beauty! He's the prince of all the twelve heavenly stars! Did you know that the gods worked so hard to make him, that it took them twelve days to finish making him" She giggled, her father listening to her absent mindedly. He was more worried about his next trip to the Durrani Afghan Empire.

"He is the most beautiful of all the stars! I wish I could see him just once, even if it is all in my dreams" She danced across the chairs in the large and well-kempt living room. The wooden floor was decorated with carpets and lamps from lands whose names she couldn't even pronounce."Father, you must have seen him. You have seen the entire world!""Not so much, Jevelene. Your old father only knows of mortals," The servants picked up the bags and began putting them inside the carriage. She followed her father to his carriage.

"Oh, that is such a shame! You ought to meet more immortals in your way!" She said."Well, that is the thing. You don't always know when you meet an immortal," He smiled and kissed her cheek, "Father is far away, Jevelene. To an old civilisation, with so much magic that it would make a perfect gift for my charming little thing," The raven croaked as it jumped on his arm while he leaned towards Jevelene. "Father," Jevelene kissed him back, "I will wait for you,"He nodded and looked up at his mother, "Ma, please take care of my treasure,"She smiled and nodded, "I will, as good as good old me can," They kissed and he departed into his carriage, "Milo, take care of father," Jevelene petted the raven.

Jevelene watched his carriage disappear in the woods and she went back inside the mansion. "Say Guilia," She sat on her bed, as her housekeeper tidied up her father's study, "Have you ever seen a star?"
"Yes, young mistress. At night. In the sky,"
"No, not those... Those haven't fallen yet. I say," She brushed her hair behind her head, "The ones that look like you and me,"
"Young mistress, you ought to stop dreaming. How could stars ever look like you and me? They twinkle and they fall...and they die,"
"Just like you and I," Jevelene smiled, "Father says, my mother was a goddess,"
"She was very kind, indeed,"
"Is that what being a goddess means?" But Guilia ignored her, wiping the windows down behind the large shelves of books and maps.

"Guilia, what was my mother like?"
"Young mistress," She laughed, "You ask that all the time. Do you not get tried of repetitions,"
"You don't. You clean this study every day, even though my father rarely uses it. If you can have such a great connection with the inanimate, why can I not love my dead mother enough to know her every day?"Guilia smiled, "Your mother...Nastasia was her name,"
"I know that, Guilia,"

"She always had a glow about her, as if she was made of light. Her walk was elegant as if she was trotting like a horse. Very light-footed, but very strong." Guilia pointed at her mother's picture in her father's study.

https://youtu.be/zkPAs3kr_PI

"She could walk three hours after giving birth to you. And she loved you so much, she always had you pressed on her breast, as if she wanted you to remember her heartbeat forever. When you were only two years old, she left with your father for a journey that he had been begging her to go to. They didn't tell me the place, exactly, but they told me it was land of wintery treasures, vast, freeing and everything that your mother would love. She loved her freedom. So, much so that it perhaps took her life. When your father returned from the trip, it was only him. He told me that your mother had died after drowning in the frozen sea. He said that wolves emerged out of the water, thousands of them. And they took her with them. 

Many think that he killed her on the journey, there were rumours that he was also married to this young country girl, that your mother did not like but your father did. Old Guilia only knows as much as the neighbour next door. I never saw them fight, young mistress. I believe they loved each other, and there is no country girl that your father has married," 

Jevelene looked sad. Guilia pressed her fat, white hands on her back and comforted her, "I thought, today I would tell you a different story about her. Repetitions can get tedious," 
Jevelene nodded. 

Seasons passed, and soon, Jevelene was ten. She took to plants, botany was her favourite subject. Her father brought her expensive books from all around the world, of different kinds of plants that nurture the animal and insect life of every little pothole of life. From the harsh environments of deserts and volcanoes to the richness of the forests of the Amazon, and the Savannah of Africa, these plants were omnipresent. She was so fascinated with them that she had cultured her own tiny garden, that she used to understand their lifecycle. Plants always gave her comfort.

One chilly winter night, when she sat before her fireplace, Milo flew to her window and croaked loudly. He was wounded, and as he flew towards her, droplets of blood fell from his body onto the carpet. She brought her hand forward and he sat on her forearm, handing her a small bottle that he held in his beak, "Milo! What happened to you?" 

She kept the bottle aside and quickly took out her father's medicinal kit from his chest. She cleaned the wound on his neck, but the blood won't stop flowing, and Milo slowly lay on his side, quietly waiting for his end as he was relieved to fulfil the last order of his master. Deliver his letter to his young daughter. Jevelene opened the bottle and took the letter out, it was a small piece of paper, that read...

"𝒥𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓁𝑒𝓃𝑒, 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓅 𝐼 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝒾𝓃 𝒽𝒶𝓈 𝑔𝑜𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓃 𝒹𝒶𝓂𝒶𝑔𝑒𝒹, 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒸𝒶𝓅𝓉𝒶𝒾𝓃 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝓉𝑜𝑜 𝒹𝓇𝓊𝓃𝓀, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒾𝓉 𝒽𝒾𝓉 𝒶 𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹𝑒𝓇. 𝐼 𝓌𝓇𝒾𝓉𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓈 𝓌𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒻𝒾𝓁𝓁𝓈 𝓊𝓅 𝓂𝓎 𝒸𝒶𝒷𝒾𝓃. 𝒥𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓁𝑒𝓃𝑒, 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓂𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝒶 𝑔𝑜𝒹. 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝑜𝓃𝑒𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐼 𝓅𝓇𝒶𝓎 𝓉𝑜. 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝒶 𝒸𝒽𝒾𝓁𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝒶 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝓉𝒶𝓁 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒶 𝑔𝑜𝒹, 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝒶 𝒹𝑒𝓂𝒾𝑔𝑜𝒹. 𝒜𝓃𝒹 𝓈𝑜, 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓂𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇 𝓈𝓅𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓉, 𝒥𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓁𝑒𝓃𝑒. 𝒜𝓃𝒹 𝒻𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒹𝑒. 𝐼𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒷𝑒𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝑔𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓀𝑒𝑒𝓅𝑒𝓇, 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒷𝑒 𝒶𝒷𝓁𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓈𝑒𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓂𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝒶𝑔𝒶𝒾𝓃. 𝐼 𝒽𝑜𝓅𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝒶𝓃 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑔𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓉𝒽𝓁𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝒻𝒶𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇. 𝐼 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊,"

Jevelene looked at Milo, his eyes were shut, and he was breathing gently, "Milo!" She gently pressed her warm hands on his fragile body. She kissed his little head and ran downstairs, 

Nagai, a plant indigenous to the subtropics of Asia, is an exceptional wound healer. Its leaf extracts are directly applied to treat skin injury. 

She plucked some nagai leaves that she had grown in a glass chamber inside her Mediterranean garden. She accidentally cut her palm while pulling the leaves out of the branch. She crushed them and applied them to the wounded bird's neck. She tended to the dying bird, as she thought about her father's letter every day. She didn't tell anyone about it and hid the letter away. She believed that he was safe and that he would return. 

Milo healed over two weeks, and that's when they had a royal guard visit them, "The merchant ship that left on behalf of his highness has lost contact. We believe that it drowned while passing through the Red Sea. His Highness sends his condolences," He passed a box of olives and honey to my grandmother. She looked devastated. She thanked the royal guard and lept on the floor, weeping uncontrollably. 

Watching her cry makes Jevelene weak too. She ran upstairs and fell on her bed, digging her face into her pillow, and weeping. With her father gone, the sole breadwinner of their family had been removed. Now, it was she who must provide, for her grandmother was an old lady, who was so moved by her son's death that she took to bed, and none of Jevelene's herbal remedies would bring her back to her feet. It wasn't her body that gave up, it was her will. 

One day, his father's old friend, a lawyer, visited the Stacephelece estate. Jevelene recognised him and welcomed him inside. He discussed with her what she must do now that she was the owner of her father's estate. After a few discussion regarding her future pursuits, and her education, he told her why he was there. Her father had left her a will of 30,000 Sardinian lira which she would only get once she was married. But... the mansion...

A small carriage stopped outside the main door of the state, as the door opened, a middle-aged woman emerged. She was dressed as a noblewoman. Her hair was tied behind her head and covered by a huge hat. Her linen gown touched the pebblestone pathway gracefully as she walked, while her servants took her luggage out of the carriage.

"The mansion here has been given to a lady called Mrs Catherine Stacephelece. A Spanish country girl," So, the rumours were true. She did have a step mother. 

Suddenly, the door behind them opened, and Jevelene looked at her silhouette. She held a giant paper fan in her hands, "You must be Mr Matteo," She smiled. He got up, "That is me, miss. What can I do for you?"

"My name is Catherine Stacephelece. I am the legal owner of this mansion and this estate,"
Jevelene got up, "You... are my father's secret wife?"
"It wasn't a secret. At least not where I lived when he married me. I knew he had married once before, but he told me his wife was dead," She fanned the sweat on her face which was starting to wash away her powder, "I loved your father. And I am happy that he has left a daughter for me to raise," She walked up to Jevelene, "I must be one lucky woman,"

Mr Matteo smiled, "Mrs Stacephelece," He walked towards her, "Shall we discuss your inheritance in detail?"
"Of course. Jevelene, could you ask the servants to prepare us some tea?" Jevelene watched from afar, Mrs Stacephelece discuss important adult matters with the lawyer. She had the grace and charm of a noblewoman, she did not seem country at all!

Mrs Matteo was relieved that Jevelene had a stepmother like Mrs Stacephelece, a gracious noblewoman. Soft-spoken, well-mannered and kind. She left her in her care. But Catherine knew of Jevelene's large inheritance, and she wasn't very kind to her behind the curtains. To save her expenses, she fired all the servants at the mansion, and Jevelene would do all the housework. 

Physicians stopped visiting the mansion, and in the lack of treatment, soon the grandmother passed away too. Life was just beginning to get hard for the young teenager. Her step mother was a vile woman, always busy in beautifying herself to find rich suitors she could marry and enhance her social status. She was a country girl, but she had gained a large fortune by duping men. Her beauty meant everything to her and it had gotten her everywhere in her life. Her beauty was her altar, wealth her god.

She, however, would go to church every Sunday and attend the masses. She would pray so vehemently that she appeared to be the most pious of all women, more virginal than the nuns themselves. Her sense of religiosity gave her pride over other women whom she looked down upon as ugly and despicable, not deserving anything good in their menial lives. Milo looked at her from the church towers, like a god watching his other pathetic creation.

She cared little for Jevelene and her education, and her purpose, to her, was not to be an educated woman but rather a bride, who could finally get her inheritance. Jevelene, still read her father's letter every day, wondering what a star spirit was. What was a parade? A gatekeeper?

Every morning, she would wake up before sunrise to fetch water from the brook. Catherine liked drinking rose tea right after she woke up in the morning, and she demanded it be made of fresh brook water. Jevelene grabbed her bucket and walked through the forests with a bucket in her hand. She looked at the tree leaves above and hummed a melody she used to sing back when she was happy. She stopped at the brook and saw a young boy, a teenager like her, sitting by the brook. He was drinking water from the brook, she looked at him, glowing in the dark.

"Are you a dream?" She asked and he turned back. He had bronze skin, bright green eyes and green gemstones surrounding his eyes. His brown hair fell on his forehead and he looked at her, a tall, lanky figure standing in the dark, a dull shade of copper, skinny hands dangling down her body, holding a huge bucket. He got up and asked,

"Who are you?" 

"I'm Jevelene," She smiled, noticing his Italian was a little amateur. It had a roughness to it. As if his tongue wasn't used to it. Was he a traveller from a faraway land? A merchant? A sailor. His clothes were fine silk, a pistachio green chemise and black pants with brown, leather shoes. 
"What are you doing here, Jevelene?" He asked, "A young lady like you here in the woods, this time at night?"

"I come here every day...to fetch water. What about you? And where are you from?"
"I'm from the kingdom of the Swēon. My master got me here, to recover from his bad health,"
"Is Italia doing him any good?"

"Yes, even in winter, it's pretty warm and no snow. It's helping him recover,"
"I have heard of your kingdom. It is a land where nature and history intertwine like roots beneath a quiet forest, a place of stoic people and fleeting beauty. The seasons tell the story of the land: spring unfurls like the first page of a forgotten manuscript, violets pushing through thawing earth; summer is a fever dream of golden fields and endless days under the midnight sun, meadows adorned with buttercups and cornflowers; autumn gilds the forests in amber and russet, birch leaves drifting like forgotten letters; and winter turns the world into a silent cathedral, where snow blankets time itself and fir trees stand adorned with frost like jewels for the wind to admire."

He looked into her blue eyes, "Have you come to Sweden before?"
"No, but I have read about it. I love to read about countries. They fascinate me,"
"Well, not so much anymore. The industrial revolution has changed Stockholm, the hum of machines turning, coal smoke curling"

"But even there, islands float across the Baltic Sea like dreams crowned with oaks and humble spires," She said to him,
"You are right," He nodded, "The vast northern landscapes remain sacred and untouched, where Sami herders move with the reindeer across frozen expanses, and taiga forests stand deep and silent, their moss a thick carpet over the bones of the earth,"
"So, even as iron fingers of industry reach across the land, the lilies of the valley speak of quiet grace, pine forests rise like cathedrals where sunlight pours in like stained glass, and cloudberries gleam gold upon the mire, sweeter treasures than any forged by man."

He looked at her, "Wonderfully described. I could never such justice to my own land, Jevelene,"
"What is your name?" She asked him. 

"I can't tell you. My master doesn't want me to make friends with anyone here. I'm not allowed out either, that's why, at night, I escape. I want to know more about this country too"
"Of course, you do. It's only human!"
"Human..." He smiled.
"What kind of master is that?"
"The one you wouldn't want. Us servants, we are their toys,"

"I know what you mean," She looked at him, "In that case, I'll call you what I want,"

"Suit yourself"
"How about...

Ariel?"

-To be continued

Jevelene Stacephelece
Dear Ms Lady Demigod II