Book 1: Gemaris Island

Chapter 1: An Old Friend's Studio

"There! You're all finished!" the tall, dark-haired lady chirped, throwing her hands out. "This is for sure my best work, I think!"

She smiled a large white grin as her teal eyes glimmered.

"What do you think?"

The lady brought her customer in front of the giant round mirror which was surrounded with an ornate gold land sapphire frame.

The customer gave a shy smile to her reflection as she examined herself. Her hair was a normal length, made of light golden blonde curls tumbling onto her shoulders. Right now, half of it was pinned in a bun on the back of her head and there was a small red rose by her ear. The girl's bangs were no longer unruly, but neatly covering just a bit of her eyebrows. Her cheeks were rosy instead of pale like snow. And best of all, she wore a charming peasant dress that was as red as rich wine and a dark brown apron that had a. The puffy off-white sleeves went down to her elbows and had little frills at the end. The girl's new white stockings showed under the knee-length skirt of the dress and her small brown laced up boots were comfortable, even with small heels.

"It's...very different for me," the customer replied, turning right and left to see herself at every angle.

"That's what you wanted, isn't it?" the lady asked, concerned, but still cheerful.

"Yes, it is," the girl replied, matter-of-factly.

"Do you like the accessories? They make an outfit, you know," the woman asked eagerly, putting her hands together in a pleading manner.

The girl had forgotten to acknowledge the accessories, but they were all quite lovely. She had some cute red bracelets, one with a little bow on it. There was also on her chest a brooch shaped like a tiny, sepia bouquet of flowers. The young client wondered what had inspired Marietta to make such a sad, and yet beautiful brooch. But then she noticed right above the brooch, around her neck, a plain golden locket.

"Marietta? What is this locket?" the girl asked, grabbing it with two fingers.

"In case you want to put something in there? A portrait or photography of someone? Or maybe an item that you value or cherish!" Marietta beamed, her breathy voice filled with excitement.

"There's nothing. There's...no one. But I will still wear it," the girl said with no expression at all.

"Maybe something or someone will come along who will deserve a place in that locket!" Marietta suggested, shrugging.

"I doubt it," the girl said, turning away from the mirror. "But thank you for this, Marietta. For everything."

The customer spun back around on her heel to face her helper.

"It's the least I can do for an old friend who helped me in my greatest time of need," Marietta remarked, rubbing the back of her neck. The curls around Marietta's face were messy and her bun was on the verge of falling apart. "Really. There's no need to thank me."

"Nonsense. I don't deserve your kindness, Marietta!" the girl in the dark red peasant dress shook her head. She was surprised when her long curls hit her in the face as she did so, for she was not used to such long hair.

Marietta became puzzled by her friend's words. "What are you talking about? You saved me from what might have been death! Of course you deserve my kindness, d-"

"Ora. Call me Ora. My name is Ora," the customer quickly said, gazing at Marietta with calm blue eyes.

"Ora?"

"Ora Ember," the girl stated calmly.

A rare silence ensued.

"Well...What a lovely name, Ora," Marietta replied, hesitantly.

The girl called Ora grinned as she nodded her head slightly. She bent down on the wooden ground and began putting her belongings into the oversized vintage suitcase Marietta had designed for her. Yes, Marietta had even designed the dark brown suitcase with gold locks and clasps. It was a large rectangular chest with a handle and black corners. And on top of the suitcase was a gold rose with gold leaves. The suitcase was so elaborate and ornate in Ora's opinion. And her belongings only took up a third of the travel chest.

"Oh, I also have an umbrella for you!" Marietta suddenly shouted, scurrying into another room. She emerged with a black umbrella as well as a cream-colored scarf that was glittery and translucent like a veil.

"And look! It has a rose in the middle, so when you tie it around your neck," Marietta wrapped the scarf around Ora, "you have a little rose on your neck. Isn't it cute?"

"It's adorable, Marietta," Ora chuckled, grinning a bit.

There was a calming silence as Ora picked up her mostly empty suitcase and her folded umbrella. She gave Marietta one last grateful look when suddenly, Marietta let out a gasp:

"Ora, your eyes-"

"They're fine, Marietta. Really, you've done enough. I couldn't be more grateful," Ora placed a hand on her friend's shoulder.

"Where are you going?" the designer suddenly asked, sounding confused and worried.

"I have something I need to do. But I can't tell you what it is."

Marietta's ever smiling eyes softened with concern, and the twinkle in her green irises had faded away.

"Well...how long will you be gone?" Marietta asked timidly.

Ora paused and looked down at the ground.

"I don't know if I'm coming back," she muttered.

"What? Why?" Marietta immediately asked.

"Because I am determined to finish what I've started. And...you know...I've always wanted to spread joy and wisdom wherever I go. And so, I want to bring true joy and especially wisdom to all the people of the Twelve Islands. Making people happy should be the goal of every person, Marietta. And so, it is my goal."

Ora had gone from staring at the ground to gazing out the window of the studio which overlooked a colorful garden next door.

"But...what are you going to do?" Marietta quietly asked.

"I am going on a journey. And I shall spread joy along the way," Ora said, her voice no longer low but light and sparkly. She turned to her friend and smiled hopefully.

But Marietta was at a loss for words. She finally stammered, "Well...that's a bit vague, don't you think?"

Ora chuckled, closing her eyes.

"Well, I never said I knew exactly what my plan was," Ora shrugged. "It sounds vague because it IS vague."

"So you're just going to try and go with the flow," Marietta said.

"Exactly."

Ora suddenly began marching out the studio's main entrance, dragging her suitcase and umbrella behind her. Her curls bounced as she walked. She wasn't used to it.

The girl on a journey found herself out in the streets of the First Island. Marietta's Studio was in a quiet neighborhood just outside the city. Usually, on a small island, it was common to smell the salt of the sea no matter where you were. But the First Island was known for its flowery gardens that swarmed the air with wonderful fragrances: sweet, bitter, exotic and delicious. Ora quietly observed her surroundings and noticed that all the simple-looking houses in the neighborhood were plain white with blue roofs. Tiny pink blossom trees grew in every garden as well as clusters of purple and green bushes and saplings. The sweet neighborhood consisted of one line of houses, all similar in color, but different in height and layout. They were lined up at the side of a large white stone clearing, on the other side of which was the city. Ora noticed a building in the center of the line of houses stood a clocktower white a blue roof and a big, round and white clock face with blue hands and dashes. It was 8:30 in the morning, but the sun was already lighting up the entire island. It shimmered onto the shimmering indigo dome-shaped roof of Marietta's studio which was a round white building consisting of three floors and a balcony stretching all away around the circular white stone building. The vast gardens stretched surrounding Marietta's studio stretched on for miles, like spilled paints. The colors of the flowers were mostly lavender and indigo, with a little bit of sunshine yellow and magenta sprinkled here and there. The view was simply breathtaking. Especially with the giant white fountain far in the distance in the city behind Marietta's Studio, shooting up into the aquamarine sky. Everywhere Ora looked, she could not help but smile peacefully.

But in the midst of the serenity and silence of the First Island, Ora sensed an uncontrollably chatty girl behind her, trying so hard not to disturb the peace.

"Marietta?" Ora said, turning around and grinning.

The designer stood at the doorway of her giant studio, her hand on the stone doorpost.

"Are you sure you have enough money?" Marietta asked with a concerned but friendly look on her face.

"Yes, Marietta. I'm sure," Ora answered again.

"But what are you going to do? Where are you going to go? You yourself don't even know. How can you...just..."

But Marietta gave up. She truly was at a loss of words, completely befuddled by the girl. "How do you expect to bring joy to others? I mean, the First Island is already quite a peaceful place. You should at least find out more about the people who live here before you dive headfirst into this...rather difficult task."

"If they are already happy, how hard can it be for me to bring them more happiness?" Ora asked, raising an eyebrow at her speechless friend.

"I didn't mean happy, Ora. But I suppose they are...blissfully ignorant," Marietta was suddenly mumbling, wringing her hands nervously.

"What do you mean by that?" Ora immediately shot back at her, nearly dropping her suitcase and umbrella.

"I only mean that...they know as much as they want to know about the Twelve Islands...which is nothing. They know nothing about any island except this one. They really haven't ever used the Mirror Gates that much, and they don't even talk about what may lie beyond the ocean waters. I mean, EVERYONE in the Twelve Islands dreams and daydreams about the possible worlds that dwell beyond the horizons...but the people on the First Island. They do not! It's so strange..."

"How do you know this, Marietta? Have you ever left this island?" Ora asked, seriously.

"Why, yes, actually. Do you want the long story or the short story?" Marietta asked with raised eyebrows, hopeful that Ora would stay awhile longer to listen and chat.

"Short story," Ora replied without hesitation. But then she saw the disappointed look on her friend's sharp white face.

"Marietta. You know I'd like to hear the whole story. But I need to get going and..."

Ora stopped. Her blue eyes widened like twinkling stars as she once again spotted the large stone clearing in front of the small huddle of houses.

"I have a brilliant idea, Marietta."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The people of the First Island were ignorant of many things, but they shared a certain ignorance with every other island as well: specifically the ignorance of Ora Ember's secret talent, unbeknownst to any citizen in the isles.

A young boy knocked on every door in the neighborhood outside the city.

"Good day, madam! Are you well this fine spring day?" he beamed with his hands behind his back.

The woman at the door nodded and asked if there was anything she could do for him.

"What would delight me most, madam, would be if you attended the theater story that is being performed TODAY, at TEN O'CLOCK...right outside your house!" the boy said enthusiastically.

The woman gasped. "What do you mean, boy?"

"Right here in the stone clearing!" the boy pointed behind him. "You wouldn't even have to leave your house, but I recommend you come and watch the story up close! It's going to be a unique one!"

"I don't doubt it will be unique. Why isn't it being performed at the opera house across the river?" the woman asked.

"Because the writer and director believe that traveling across the river can be inconvenient for those who live so far from the bridge, and the opera house's performance can be quite expensive for those of us who are not rich, like myself, madam. However, whether you are poor or rich, you are invited to come and see!"

And with that, the boy hopped down the front steps and scurried over to the next house. So he delivered the message to each and every neighbor who lived next to the clearing.

The clock tower chimed as the hour of ten rolled around. The clearing was packed with eager, curious audience members. In the middle of the clearing, there were two red curtains which were quickly pulled out to begin the performance. A beautiful painted scene was revealed of an extravagant, ornate ballroom. A gold and silver chandelier glimmered from the ceiling, a white marble floor was filled with silver designs, and a grand red staircase led to a golden balcony connected to the walls. The audience gasped at the magical sight.

Onto the stage strolled a beautiful lady with dark brown curls tumbling down her back. Her layered dress was snow white with pale gold frills and blue silk ribbons winding all around it. A small corsage of peach roses was pinned to her waist and on her chest rested a gold necklace with a bright turquoise gem that matched the gem on the neckline of her dress as well as her stunning green-blue eyes. On her head sat a white rose and a white hat, purposely crooked. Everyone was overwhelmed by the elaborate costume, but nobody missed what the girl was wearing on her face.

A mask.

It was also white with a gold lining. On its top was a fan of white feathers and sticking out of its side was a single white butterfly wing decorated with pretty holes. The mask wore a smirk that was blood red.

Suddenly, the girl whipped off her false face and spoke.

"I just can't believe Herrick invited me to this ball! It's the most exclusive event in all the kingdom!" she grinned.

The girl crossed the stage, gazing at her surroundings in awe.

"I've never been to a place like this. I've seen gardens and I've seen trees. But CASTLES! I can't believe I'm actually in a castle right now! Especially a magnificent palace like this one!"

The young lady spun around onstage, throwing her arms out as she laughed at the ceiling.

"And at the greatest dance of the year! The Rose Feather Dance! I wonder if the king will be here? Oh, I'm sure he won't. I mustn't get my hopes up. Besides, the only man I really want to see is Herrick. I can't thank him enough for an opportunity like this."

"And so then, YOU must be Katrina," laughed a sour voice from offstage.

The girl whose name was probably Katrina whipped around to see who had just spoken to her. Onto the set slowly strutted another woman with pale gold curls resting on her shoulders and the rest of her hair pinned into a neat, curly bun. Her dress was also big and showy with layers and roses and a string of blue gems all around her skirt. Her sleeves had three cream ruffles, which was three more ruffles than Katrina's sleeves had. In fact, her whole outfit was almost identical to Katrina's, except this woman's dress was black, not white. The roses on her waist were dark turquoise like water under a night sky. And on top of her head sat a crown of ebony feathers and tiny dark blue flowers. Her necklace was identical to Katrina's. Her mask was exactly the same, except with black feathers and a black butterfly wing. The woman held her mask over her face with a gloved hand. But Katrina could see the woman's menacing blue eyes.

"Who are you?" Katrina asked, smiling. "Do you know me?"

"I know all about you, my dear," the woman replies, removing her mask from her face.

"I don't recognize you," Katrina replies. "What's your name?"

The woman in black only smiled, imitating the grin on her mask.

"You will forever remember my name, Katrina," the woman smiled, walking towards her with her head held high. "It is Raven."

"Raven?" Katrina whispered, clutching her mask. "What do you mean I will always remember your name?"

"So many questions and no time to answer them," the woman called Raven laughed a little. "You and your people are quite curious, aren't they?"

"What do you mean?" Katrina asked with wide eyes.

"You're not from here, correct?" said Raven.

"Why do you think that?" the dark-haired girl asked with puzzled, worried eyes.

"It's clear that you are a foreigner. I can tell by the way you dress. Nobody on this island wears white to a ball," Raven said, thoughtfully. "White, you know, is the color of innocence and purity. It is also used to represent peace and submission. Did you know that?"

"No, I did not," Katrina shook her head.

Raven slowly crossed the ballroom floor and placed her hand on a red rose that sat in a golden vase.

"You people are so happy and innocent. But you are only happy and innocent because you are ignorant, and you don't know anything. And the worst part is, you intentionally stay ignorant. You don't try to seek knowledge, because you think it may harm you or sadden you. You are afraid that the truth will sting. And you know. You are right. The truth does hurt. It will make you miserable. Sometimes it is even deadly. I cannot blame you for letting it hide from you."

Katrina gasped and suddenly her gentle face became angry. "What are you talking about? Tell me right now! What is this ugly truth that you claim I have been running from?"

"You have come here to see Sir Cairo, have you not?" Raven suddenly asked, whipping around and leaving the rose in the vase.

"Yes, I have! And do you have an issue with that?" Katrina raised her voice which was no longer soft and gentle.

"Yes...I do," Raven muttered, clenching her fists.

The two women glared at each other with burning blue eyes.

"Cairo is mine."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

An hour prior to the performance, Ora and Marietta sat at a table in Marietta's studio, sipping some coffee.

"Tell me, Marietta, about the time when you left this island," Ora said, gripping her cup on the table.

"Honestly, Ora. If you would like to get going, I can give you the short version story," Marietta chuckled, blushing a bit.

"If you want, you can start with the short version, but I would like to hear everything that happened from your perspective," Ora nodded, leaning back in her chair.

Marietta grew very quiet.

"My perspective..." she sighed.

Her colorful eyes glimmered with tears.

"I left this island to go see the man I loved..." Marietta started.

She swallowed the lump in her throat as she recalled what it used to feel like to look into his eyes. After breathing hard, Marietta continued in a low voice so unlike her usual, happy tone.

"But he betrayed me."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Cairo is mine," Raven muttered with determination in her suddenly dark eyes.

"What are you talking about? We are lovers. I came to see him and he is coming to see ME!" Katrina snapped, her voice louder than ever.

At that moment, a tall man in a black suit with a teal corsage marched into the ballroom, fuming.

"What's going on here? The ball has barely started, and there's already fighting!" he shouted, rubbing his dark hair.

"Cairo! It's me, Katrina! We've been writing to each other for months now! I...decided to come and visit you at the Rose Feather Dance...I thought you'd be happy to finally meet me...but this lady here says that you belong to her? What is the meaning of this, Cairo? I thought you loved me!" Katrina was hesitant and careful, but she almost broke down crying after she finished.

"Katrina...I didn't know you were going to be here," Cairo said nervously, swallowing hard. "Why, I would have-"

"Prepared a little better," Raven interrupted, crossing her arms. "Like for example, I would have hid from you the girl I've been with for a year now! Isn't that what you would have done, Cairo?!"

Cairo anxiously looked from one girl to the other. He found himself trapped like a bird in a cage.

"I know that you've been writing to her, Cairo!" Raven cried. "You poor excuse for a human being! I wondered when it would stop. If it would ever stop. And now here we are, in this mess! So what are you going to do now, Cairo?"

"I...I..." he stammered. "I choose you, Katrina! I'm sorry I hid this secret from you, but I have never even loved this woman! I promise!"

Katrina hesitated.

"Look, this shall be a sign of my promise!" he said, desperately.

And suddenly, he threw his blue corsage to the ground and replaced it with a pink rose from Katrina's dress. Katrina paused, but then slowly smirked.

"If you promise to get rid of this horrible woman here, I will stay with you, Cairo!" Katrina said, grabbing his hands.

Raven stood still like a lifeless statue, her eyes swirling with disbelief. Cairo turned to her and raised his eyebrows, motioning for her to leave.

But first, Raven uncrossed her arms and stared straight into the dead eyes of her former lover.

"Cairo. We've been married for a whole year. I left my home, my island, to come all the way here and be with you. We were wed. We were happy. And now, for months, you have been writing to another girl and you kept it from me this whole time. But that's not all! You are taking advantage of an innocent, naive girl and using her for your own pleasure! You have broken my heart today and will break her heart tomorrow, Cairo! And you have destroyed yourself!"

Raven was shouting, but she refrained from breaking down. Cairo and Katrina were speechless as they stood next to each other.

"You will never see me again," Raven said. "You thought I was gullible and ignorant like her. It's true, I once assumed the best in everyone. But no, the truth is cruel and ugly. Like you."

Cairo only stiffened, unable to say anything.

"Enjoy your dance," Raven said.

After taking one last look at her husband, the woman in black turned away and left the ballroom. The two people left onstage froze like ice sculptures and the curtains were slowly pulled shut.

Only the song of the birds soared through the air for a moment. Then the audience leaped to their feet.

They cheered and clapped so loud, that surely the whole island could hear the uproar coming from a tiny neighborhood.

The two actresses and actor came to take their bow as the audience continued to applaud. When the cheering finally died down, the girl who had played Katrina removed her hat and raised her hands to the audience.

"I would like to thank the writer and director of this story, who wrote and put this performance together in just an hour!" she announced, grinning widely.

The audience grew even wilder than before.

But after a while, the cheering changed to demands. People began asking who the writer and director was. They demanded to see the brilliant creator of the wonderful, yet concise, story.

The Katrina actress held her hands up to silence the audience.

She hesitated, glanced at the girl who played Raven, and finally said, "The writer wishes to remain anonymous."

But the citizens of the small neighborhood would hear none of it. They broke out into shouts of rage and even boos. Katrina looked lost and worried, until finally, the woman who played Raven silenced the audience, calmly.

"I will fetch her."

The people waited silently and patiently as Raven left the stage and didn't return. Instead, there appeared a golden-haired girl in a red and brown peasant dress.

She waved to the audience and bowed, causing them to burst with cheers and clapping once again.

"WHAT IS YOUR NAME?" someone in the audience shouted, causing every other audience member to yell the same question.

Ora didn't think they would like her story so much. And after all, it wasn't even her story. She did write the dialogue, she did plan the blocking and she organized the very short plot. But the characters and the story were real. Very real. And only Ora and one other person knew it.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"So you see, Ora, that is the story from my perspective, as you asked," Marietta said, finishing her coffee.

"What do you mean 'from your perspective,' Marietta?" Ora asked. She seemed perfectly calm and attentive, but she was gripping her coffee cup so hard that it was on the verge of breaking.

Marietta peered into her empty cup.

"I always thought that the girl he left me for was so...evil. But she was from the same island I was born on. She was innocent. Ignorant. How could she have known that she was being deceived? It wasn't right for me to hate her the way I did. I never even considered what the situation looked like from her eyes."

Then Marietta sighed a sigh of regret, fiddling with the cup's handle.

"You didn't do anything wrong, did you, Mari?" Ora asked, tenderly.

"But I did! I have been holding a grudge against that girl for years. And now that I'm finally telling someone about her, I realize that she was just as ignorant as I was. She was deceived by the same man I was deceived by. I blamed her when I should have been blaming him! And she was so, so innocent. And no doubt, he has stripped her of that. She probably knew no better than to think that he was her knight in shining armor, and I was...a witch."

Ora was unexpectedly speechless. Her blue eyes fell upon her suitcase, all packed and ready to go. But Ora wasn't.

"Marietta. If you had the chance, would you teach people not to make the same mistake you did?" Ora suddenly blurted out, leaning forward, her hushed voice filled with excitement.

Marietta's eyes popped open.

"Why...not?" she replied, unsure of what Ora was going to do next.

"Then, Marietta," Ora grabbed Marietta's hands. "Let's tell the story to everyone. From the other girl's perspective."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Marietta and Ora had changed out of their costumes and were taking down the stage. The actor who took on the role of Cairo was also helping, along with the boy who had asked every neighbor to attend the performance.

"I'm still so intrigued by your decision to play the 'innocent' girl, Marietta," Ora remarked, neatly placing all her costume pieces into their box. "I mean, there's no better way to put yourself in someone else's shoes!"

Ora was more cheerful than usual. In fact, she always seemed quite reserved and difficult to please. But now, her heart was racing.

"Well, Ora, it was your idea to write and direct and build the set for a theater story based on a very real thing I went through. I'm just grateful you changed the names of the characters," Marietta laughed.

The dark-haired man taking down the scenery suddenly perked up his ears. "Wait, this was based on a true story? Particularly your story, Marietta? I didn't know that!"

"Yes. I usually say that it's all in the past, but now that I've told the story to everyone I know, I really do feel like it's in the past," Marietta replied, gazing in wonder at the light midday sky. "Thank you Arnold, for volunteering to be in this performance," Marietta smiled at him.

"It was my pleasure, Katrina," he chuckled.

"And Ora, you played Raven so well. You were so despicable at first, and then I ended up pitying you by the end of the play," Marietta quickly said in disbelief, folding up Arnold's shirt .

"I hope that it is the attitude of most people when they meet someone they don't like," Ora quietly said. "Our enemies tend to be potential best friends in disguise."

Marietta stopped and pondered that.

"Ora. Why did you never tell me what a great story writer and director you were?" Marietta suddenly asked, throwing her hands on her hips.

"I guess it never came up," Ora shrugged, avoiding eye contact.

"You have a gift, Ora. A real gift. You saw how much that audience loved your story. The acting was outstanding, because of you. And the costumes you designed using my material...amazing! It's incredible what you can do in just an hour! I mean, why don't you do this for a living? You'd be rich by now! Why don't you do this on your journey? Yes! That's what you should do! You said you didn't really know what your journey would consist of. I do! Theater stories! It's a brilliant plan, Ora, just brilliant!"

"I'm way ahead of you, my friend," Ora grinned. "Do you have any spare material I can take with me on my journey? I have a lot of room in my suitcase."

Marietta's grin stretched from one side of the island to the other.

"I have plenty. And plenty of money for you to take with you as well. I won't take no for an answer. Just think of this as a good deed that a friend would do for another friend!" Marietta sounded like she was going to faint with joy. Her messy brown bun bobbed up and down as she ran in and out of her studio with piles of material and accessories for her old friend.

Ora said goodbye one last time to Marietta and hugged her with one arm, while the other held her brown suitcase and black umbrella.

Marietta smiled at Ora with tears in her grassy eyes.

"This is how you will bring joy back to the Twelve Islands," she whispered.

Not too far away, a few hours earlier when the sun hadn't risen yet, the wizard Master Amien tossed and turned in his bed, groaning.

He was haunted by a reoccurring dream of a girl with white hair and silver armor, telling him to run. Telling him to go on without her. Telling him to kill the king.