It has since been nearly 4 decades now that the land has been split and both new found kingdoms have survived fairly well without the resources of the other half. In this time the prophecy was set in motion, Osiris’s son, Soren, was told and the age of twelve that his child would one day reunite the two halves of the Rift. Soren was engaged and wed to a native woman of noble birth and less than a year later, his wife gave birth to the prophesized child. However, tragedy could not have found the new family any sooner. For three days after giving birth to a frail little girl, the mother, Soren's beloved wife, bled out in the midst of the nighttime. She died that morning and was put to rest that very same afternoon at sunset.

Though Soren suffered a great loss, he refused to succumb to grief and pity. His heart and mind were as strong as his father before him and he knew he now had a child to raise single handedly. Of course, no one was ever too alone in the mountains of the mages. Though small as the community of the magically gifted was small in number, that all inhabited the beauteous mountain together. And so it was set forth that the young child was to be betrothed and married by the age of twenty. Soren named his daughter Maeveen, meaning strength, beauty, and agility. It's been 18 years since the birth of the child and death of the mother, and Maeveen has bloomed into the precious, hidden flower of the Mage Mountains…

I remember my father always finding it humorously irritating how soft the mountain grass was. And as I tried resting there, as I did every afternoon, I'd find myself feeling similar. Not including the irritation. No one ever told me I had to try and meditate or nap each day, it was something I had developed for myself. The only time I seemed to sleep was during the wee and early hours of the morning. Going to bed early was unheard of and I never really thought about it that much.

My father told me once that there are three reasons mages slept. To rest our mortal bodies, boredom and most importantly, to dream. I didn't understand when I was younger but now I suppose I understand a little bit better what he meant. For unlike when I was little, my body now does grow tired and though it doesn't strike often, boredom still grabbed me here and there. However, my dreaming stayed in its place firmly and visited me all the time. I adored dreaming and I still do to this day.

In the summer of my 19th year( and I knew it all to well), I was to travel beyond the great barrier and make my way into the kingdom of men. This is where my soon-to-be husband lived and I was to live in his company for 6 months in preparation for our inevitable matrimony. We would eat together, spend time together and eventually sleep together, but only sleep.

I had never left the mountains of the mages, I had only ventured outside our vale maybe 3 times in my life. It never bothered me to where I wanted to leave, the first vale was a magnificent place and I love it. It was my home, it was our home. Though it sat high on the largest mountain, our winters were just as docile or violent as anywhere else and our springs were just as breathtaking if not more so. Twisting, turning staircase and stone bridges connected us to the land and the building we had built into it. Waterfalls poured out into the mist of the lower casm at the edges of our home. Flowers and ivy consumed and co existed with our houses and the willow trees never faltered against the strong winds.

I lived with my father in the eastern district of the first vale. We lived in a strong marble villa like home, decorated with vines and silver trimmings. My chamber was coated with these soft vines, and at night when the moon rose, petite white flowers would unravel and bloom in its light. My father had said he let me have the room with “all the works”. The flowers, the fireflies and the moon. And at night, they were all mine. This is why I could hardly ever sleep. Three days...just three days until I'll have to leave it all behind.

My feathered cat, Maybelle, nudged against my pale arm, bringing me back from my trance. The sun was beginning to duck below the western horizon, which meant it was time to go inside and prepare for dinner. I scooped up maybelle into my arms and straightened my gown so I could walk with tripping. Making my way up the back veranda steps, I could already smell cooked pasta and I could here Nina, our house caretaker, bustling about in the kitchen. I set my pet down and carelessly walked into the large kitchen. I slid into one of the oak chairs, feeling the coolness of the untouched furniture, as Nina looked up at me. She continued effortlessly chopping up rosemary and baby tomatoes as she began to start a meek conversation.

“How's the garden today,Miss?” She asked me, with a friendly indirect smile. I returned her courtesy in a fixed grin and answered her. “Fine as usual. The wind’s a bit more calm than usual, which is nice…spreads the smell of the peonies.” I looked up to the chandelier that hung above us every night. Reflecting slim strips of pure yellow light,illuminating the wine colored ceiling and then letting its light drip down the walls and merge with the wooden floor. Nina had continued to go on and on about how she “simply just must get out of the house more often” , and I smiled and allowed her shrill voice to enter my ears. As she spoke, I thought of my home more. I thought of what it would look like when or if I come back and I thought about what the houses of men would look like. Where they even capable of such intricate design and execution? Of course, father had told me not too long ago that my fiancé was a prince of sorts and that he lived in a palace, not a house.

Just in the moment that my mind began to drift into it's next task of thought, father entered through the main doorway. He hung his dark blue cloak on the wooden hat rack and sent a warm, familiar smile my direction. As usual, I could never manage to not smile in return when he did this.

Nina was now quiet as she stirred the pasta in with her handmade sauce and cut slices of bread into a woven basket. Father greets me with a kiss on the forehead and sat across from me while Nina set the table and brought the food over to us. “Thank you,Nina. You're dismissed.” He told her with his usual warm but solid tone. She bowed her head and left the room, shutting the giant oak doors behind her. We ate our dinner light conversation involving basic topics and the occasional silence. Not the awkward kind.

When plates were pushed forward and milk glasses emptied, father looked at me as if he were waiting for me to do something. I knew he wanted to talk to me.

“What is it?” I abruptly asked him. He stared at me for a moment or two, then let out a heavy sigh and he wiped his mouth with his cloth napkin.

“Maeveen..” he said, “I know I haven't spoken much with you about your journey coming up and I suppose I owe you an apology for that.” I nodded in response. “This can't be easy for you and I want you to leave here knowing that it's hard for me as well...letting you leave home.” He stood and walked to my side of the table and casually sat down upon the surface of it. He gazed and me with a glaze of tears over his dark eyes. “But as you know, I have no say in the matter at this point. After all, it is your fate. Osiris says you should be honored…” His hand caressed my cheek, his hands were cools and comforting to the touch. “But I know that it's a great burden on you. But I'll promise you this, we'll bring you home again. Whatever so happens...we'll see each other again in this place.”

A strong but muffled cough erupted from his thrust and I stood to help him. However he held his hand out warding me off as he sputtered into his other mit. Once composed, he stood again and beckoned me close with his eyes. I moved directly in front of him and looked up into his eyes, so unlike my own. It was at this point that I noticed that misty feeling in my own eyes and felt a tightness in my chest. He placed his large hands gently upon my shoulders. “I know you're frightened,child. I can see it growing in the way you move each coming day...but I know that you'll be alright and I know you'll make us all proud.”

Looking into my fathers usually strong yet momentarily wet eyes sent a shiver ran through my being. “I'm not afraid..” I uttered out in shaking speech. He gave me a warm smile and brushed a lock of my auburn hair from my face. Father chuckled. “ How did I know you'd say that? My brave girl…” he embraced me and we remained still for a few moments. I savored in his warmth and stored pieces of this feeling in the back of my mind. These memories of comfort might very well save me from falling apart someday.

The night went on per usual, I read quietly and star gazed as father filled out papers and organized his desk work. Before bed we had warm milk and cinnamon planks that Nina had made before she left. To this day I still recall us burying the underlying pressure with topics like the weather and such. When it came time for sleep, we bid each other goodnight. He held me tight briefly and lightly kissed my forehead. He went his way and I mine. Climbing under my downy feather comforter as maybelle stretched beside me, I felt tired for once. Laying in the quiet lull of the house and it's surrounding, I let the pleasant darkness of sleep overcome me.