Book 1: Gemaris Island

First, A Prologue

There were once twelve islands that sat in the ocean in a sort of zig-zag shape. They were close enough to each other that a sea-gazer could see the adjacent islands dangling above the horizon in the distance. However, they were far enough away from each other that it would take a few days to travel from island to island by ship. Furthermore, there were gigantic, merciless sea monsters in the depths of the sea, so traveling was extremely dangerous. Unless, of course, the people of the Twelve Islands could find a different way to travel.

One option was to figure out a way to fly from island to island. After all, the skies seemed peaceful and safe, especially when you only saw them from the ground. But the citizens of the Twelve Islands found no easy, cheap, or practical way to transport people to other islands through flight. Even though there were wizards and sorcerers and magic elves on many different islands, not one person could discover a safe way to fly with control.

So the other option was to travel underground. In other words, dig all the way past the ocean floor and forge tunnels connecting to every island. This was even more impossible than flying over the vast ocean, because it would require years and years of digging. So the only other option was to go through the ocean, which required either avoiding or destroying the sea monsters. But there was no way that was going to happen, for the sea monsters had magic too, and it was more powerful than the magic of any wizard or sorcerer.

Finally, a lonely wizard named Amien who was actually quite lazy, accidentally discovered a brilliant way to travel when he mixed a few specific ingredients together while experimenting. He had just finished dumping some animal parts, magic plants, and liquid cloud formula into his cauldron. Then Amien accidentally dropped one of his tiny, unique obsidian earrings into the milky, sky blue liquid and he instinctively reached his hand in after it. Every sane wizard knows not to emerge anything you care about into an unknown potion, but Amien's instinct obviously cared more about his earring than his arm. And in this moment, Amien happened to listen to his instinct before his reason.

The wizard felt his fingers wrap around the tiny earring in the cold, murky fluid, but what he then saw sticking out of the liquid frightened him greatly.

Amien saw his own fist, which had emerged from the liquid next to the rest of his arm. But he hadn't stuck his arm back out. It was as if his fist was no longer connected to his arm.

The magician screamed and jumped back in fright, which caused his fist to retract as he pulled his arm out of the cauldron. Amien was relieved to see that his fist was still connected to his arm, and it was also completely dry.

After pacing back and forth for forty-five minutes, puzzled and frightened, the wizard suddenly had a brilliant idea. He poured some of the concoction into a smaller cauldron and placed that cauldron in a different room in his house. Then, Amien grabbed an ink pen and dropped it into the small cauldron. But to his disappointment, the pen disappeared into the liquid for only a second before bouncing back out of Amien's small cauldron again and into his hand. Amien gasped in disbelief. He thought for sure that the pen would come out of the large cauldron in the other room. Irritated, Amien dropped the pen into the pot again. And again. And again. It still kept bouncing back into his hand. Finally, in a fit of rage, Amien slammed the pen into the cauldron with all his might, groaning loudly in frustration.

But the pen did not pop back out of the cauldron.

Amien rushed back to the room with the large cauldron and saw on the wooden floor next to it, his dark blue ink pen.

"It worked!" Amien shouted aloud to no one.

Amien realized that the pen had kept bouncing back up out of the liquid because when it had come out of the other cauldron, it had gone from falling down to falling up. But nothing can fall up, so the pen just fell back down again into the liquid and then back up in Amien's hand. This would be due to something called "gravity," but Amien was no scientist and forgot to account for gravity. Amien tested his theory by dropping the pen into the cauldron once more and watching the pen bounce in and out of both cauldrons. He laughed until tears came out his midnight blue eyes. Midnight blue was his favorite color.

So, Amien of course presented his new concoction to the king of the Twelve Islands. The different islands communicated with each other by sending doves and eagles through the skies with messages or small packages in their beaks or claws. Amien sent a small vial of his potion and a message to the Twelfth Island where the king lived. The message read:

Your Majesty,

My name is Master Amien and I have just now accidentally discovered an amazing potion that can be used for travel! In this vial you will find a sample of the potion. If one of your advisors has it recreated, simply pour the liquid into two cauldrons. Anything you put in one cauldron will come out the other. It is incredible! You have not been able to visit any other islands in your kingdom because of the sea monsters! But I have found the solution to this problem.

This is the way we shall travel!

Long live the King!

Master Amien

The king at the time was a wise one, and he immediately had the potion recreated and tested. One of his advisors, Lindo Que, altered the potion by adding a dove feather to it, making it more useful; if someone turned the cauldron on its side, the liquid would not fall out, but stay in the cauldron! So if there was a big enough cauldron, any person could walk in and out of the cauldrons instead of having to fall into them or fall out of them. The invention was quite clever.

Lindo Que poured the liquid into giant, shallow silver basins which were then propped up on stands like mirrors. Because of this, they were called Mirrors Gates by the king. Lindo sent vials of the potion to all the islands, and soon, the Mirror Gates were installed, each labeled with "Twelfth Island," for they all led to the Twelfth Island where Lindo dwelt. After making more Mirror Gates, Lindo sent knights to all the islands and had them install more Mirror Gates. Finally, There were eleven on each island, so that anyone could travel to any other island no matter where they were. Travel was suddenly easy and fast.

That was before the disaster happened.

One night in the wintry white mountains, the humble king of the Twelve Islands died childless, leaving no heir to rule over the kingdom. He had grown old and died of a cold, quite unexpectedly. However, this was not the disaster of the kingdom. The disaster of the kingdom of the Twelve Islands was not losing a king, but gaining a new one.

The citizens of the Twelve Islands were distressed by the king's death. There was no one better or wiser than him and now he had left no heir. Everyone grew troubled and worried that a war would break out over the throne. So the advisors of the late king, one from each island, gathered together on the Twelfth Island where the king had often dwelt. The late king had small palaces on each island, but the Head Palace was on the Twelfth Island, at the very end of the chain of isles.

The advisors argued and argued over who would be king. Each proud one wanted to crown himself. Each quiet one secretly wanted to crown himself but said nothing. There were no humble advisors. They were all corrupt.

However, there was Lindo Que, who was the main advisor for the king. He had been closest to the dear old man, although hardly anybody knew how to talk to Lindo. His eyebrows often hid under his long black bangs, so nobody could tell if he was angry, sad, pleased, or surprised. Lindo dressed in extravagant red robes and necklaces and rings of gold and ruby. One of Lindo's earrings was a cherry red ruby shaped like an eye, lined with gold. The other earring was a small gold cross and even though everybody was curious about the story behind it, nobody asked him about it. And the most intimidating thing about Lindo Que were his purple eyes, deep like the sunset's hue.
After two whole days and nights of quarreling, the advisors finally realized that they were not going to reach a conclusion without asking Lindo's advice. One more insult was thrown to someone's ugly face before everyone finally turned to look at Lindo. But nobody spoke. Nobody was brave enough to speak to him.

Lindo was aware of their desperate gazes.

"You want my advice," he said in a voice that was deep and calming as the sea.

The advisors nodded curtly, masking their fear.

Lindo sighed quietly through his nose.

"We shall hold a contest. A contest that our late ruler would have not only approved of, but would have enjoyed greatly. He shall watch from the skies. The people will vote on the winner of the contest and whoever receives the most votes will be crowned king. No matter what happens and no matter who is crowned."

Lindo stopped talking and observed his advisors' reactions: utter confusion.

Finally, one of the quiet advisors quietly spoke up. "What kind of competition, Lindo?"

And Lindo told them.

"A theater contest."

The advisors were taken aback, but many were secretly surprised at Lindo's creative suggestion. The king had greatly admired attending theater performances during his free time, and he found great amusement and joy in discussing with his advisors the stories he had seen performed on stage. They conversed about the actors, the actors' performances, the singers and bards' musicianship, the writer of the story, the director's choices, and especially the costume design. Fashion was especially important not only onstage, but offstage, said the king. That was why the advisors dressed so richly, but nobody's style was quite as intriguing as Lindo's.

"So, whoever writes the best story and performs it onstage is crowned king?" one of the loud advisors asked, curiously.

"Not the best story," Lindo quickly corrected him. "The story that receives the most votes from the people. Everyone will be required to vote. We will coronate the man or woman who is the writer and director of the most admired story. No matter who they are or what their story is about."

"So it's essentially up to the people," one of the advisors suddenly pointed out. "Should we trust the people? What if they are biased and they vote for a person just because they know-"

"The writers shall remain anonymous," Lindo interrupted. "The people will vote for a story, not the writer. But they will essentially be voting for the writer, because the writer always manages to sneak himself into the story somehow."

"So each candidate will be the writer and the director of his story?" said a woman who usually spoke loudly, but not often.

"Yes," Lindo nodded.

"Smart. I like the idea, Lindo. Really, it's brilliant!" spoke a scrawny man with a bird-like nose. "We shall get started right away! I am going to make the greatest tragedy the kingdom has ever seen! It will reduce every valorous knight to tears!"

"Well, I'm going to write something inspiring!" chirped another woman with sunny yellow hair that touched the floor. "Every man and woman will walk away from it feeling empowered! Touched! Strengthened! Inspired!"

"Inspired to do what?" a grouchy advisor scoffed.

"Whatever they want!" snapped the yellow-haired woman.

"Everyone knows I'm the best writer here!" a man yelled, standing up from his chair.

"Well, everyone knows I'm the best director here!" yelled another advisor.

"Who cares!"

"I do!"

"No one cares!"

"Shut up!"

They all began bickering when suddenly, Lindo spoke up again.

"Just so that we are clear..."

Everyone immediately grew silent and fell back into their seats to listen to Lindo.

"This competition is open to everyone," he said.

The advisors all jumped out of their seats again. But they still said nothing, so they all just looked like a bunch of hopping bunny rabbits.

"You must be wondering what my reasoning is behind opening this competition to the public. The fact is, you never know what wise, kind or powerful people are hiding in the crowds. There may be someone who is fit to rule the Twelve Islands but right now he or she is milking cows or baking bread. Not only is that person's potential wasted on a peasant life, but our throne is wasted on someone less fit than that wise, powerful peasant. Do you understand my reasoning?"

After a moment of consideration, the advisors all nodded.

And so it was declared throughout every island that whoever wrote and directed the most popular story would be crowned the ruler of the Twelve Islands.

The peasants were in shock. They had never before been offered a chance to gain the throne. But many were determined to throw their entire lives into the theater, even those who knew nothing about directing, acting, writing, or costume design. Many learned though. And many learned quickly. One of the most determined contestants was Master Amien, whose invention of the Mirror Gates had been overlooked because Lindo Que was a more recognizable, powerful and notable figure than a lonely wizard who only stepped out of his house to teach every once in a blue moon. And Lindo was from the Twelfth Island, the island where the king dwelt! Whereas, Amien was only from the First Island, the land farthest away from the king's island.. And Lindo was an advisor to the king and he was also the one to install the Mirror Gates on each island. Furthermore, it was Lindo's idea to have the Mirror Gates standing upright rather than sitting in cauldrons. And the silver basin was much admired by the people. So, Amien went unrecognized for his accidental, brilliant invention.

Master Amien happened to be a professor at a small school where he taught about magic and nature to the children on the First Island. The children were not particularly fond of Amien, but they didn't hate him. Rather, they found Amien a bit amusing. The teacher did not mind their jokes and pranks. He just didn't know how to connect with the children and it bothered him. They would not listen to his lectures.

They were thrilled, however, when Amien asked them to be actors in his story for the competition. Two boys even had a fist fight over the main male part and two girls ruined their friendship when fighting over the main female part. Amien was already overwhelmed.

But there was more chaos to come. Amien realized that he knew nothing about costume design, so he was limited to having only pirate characters and nothing else. This was because Amien had a trunk full of pirate costumes that he had worn as a child. Amien loved pirates and loved stories of pirates and loved everything that had to do with pirates. In fact, Amien dressed like a pirate. He had white flowy sleeves, a black leather vest and of course, jewelry: obsidian earrings, his gold rings with sapphire gems, and his long gold chain necklace. Amien had a perfect, neatly trimmed beard as dark as the depths of the sea. And his eyes were midnight blue like the ocean water under the night sky. Of course, everyone in the Twelve Islands knew that pirates did not exist, because nobody could sail the treacherous seas. Anyway, Amien used his pirate costumes from his childhood for his theater story. They fit the children perfectly. He was relieved.

Then Amien found out that he had to make his own sets and his only option was to have the children paint a giant scene of the sea. After all, the entire story was going to take place on a pirate ship. He used some wooden things to make the stage look like a pirate ship. The young director used his own stair railings for the railing of the ship. The children had such fun splashing blue paint onto the giant wooden board. Soon, the stage looked somewhat like a pirate ship on the sea. So that problem was solved.

But then Amien sat down to actually write the story and discovered that he was not a writer. So he took story ideas from different performances that he had seen as a child. He took a gripping beginning from one famous pirate story, the engaging plot of another pirate story, and the dramatic ending of yet another pirate story. Then Amien threw in some humorous scenes and some extra dialogue to fill in the gaps. There was no required minimum for the length of the story, but every good writer knew that a story was more enjoyed by the audience if it was not too short nor too long.

Amien thought he had finally accounted for everything. He thought his story was ready to be performed. The rehearsals finally started, and the children went onstage in front of the ocean scenery. They had memorized their lines perfectly, for every citizen in the Twelve Islands had excellent memory. The problem lied in the acting.

The children couldn't act.

Master Amien then had to take up the most difficult task of directing a story; he had to teach the actors how to become the characters. How to draw the audience into the story. How to make the audience break the fourth wall without having the actors break the fourth wall.

"You have to bring the audience members onto the ship with you!" Amien exclaimed during a rehearsal. "You're just reciting your lines! Say it like you mean it! Come on, boys! You're pirates! Pirates are uncivil, rude, impolite, violent! They're basically you boys except they're on the sea!"

The boys laughed at Amien's joke while the girls rolled their eyes and held in their giggles.

Even though the children were just children, they weren't that young. Amien thought he could pull some talent out of some of them. At least the main actors! But alas, the day of the theater contest quickly came, and Amien was trembling with anxiety. His child actors were just not ready to go onstage. He just didn't have the heart to tell them that they were making the story dull and boring.

"We won't let you down, Professor Amien!"

"You can have faith in us!"

"The audience is going to love us!"

Amien faked a smile at his young students, who eagerly waited backstage right before their performance. As much as he wanted to, Amien refused to cry in front of anyone. His story was going to be a disaster. And it was barely even his story. He had stolen so many characters and dialogue from other famous pirate stories. Pirates were one of the most popular topics to write about. After all, nobody in the Twelve Islands was able to leave the Twelve Islands. They could not explore and discover what there was to explore and discover. But pirates could. Furthermore, the people's imaginations took off when it came to wondering what was beyond the horizons. So, story writers used pirate stories to show what they thought was out there. The pirate characters would sail the seas and discover new islands, new creatures, and new people. There were no sea monsters in those stories. Just pirates.

There had been many original, creative pirate stories written by imaginative people. But Amien was not imaginative and his story was as unique as peasant bread. He sunk low in his seat as he watched his story from the audience. The children all shouted their lines so that they could be heard, but Amien almost preferred that they did not reveal to the audience the lines which he had plagiarized.

Amien was somewhat satisfied with his sets, but they were not nearly as extravagant as the sets of other stories. Some people were just richer and more creative than him. And the costumes! Some costume designers must have had visions of the most gorgeous, mind-blowing dresses, robes, crowns and necklaces. Amien envied the other directors. He sunk even lower into his seat and covered his eyes, waiting anxiously for his story to be finished and for the children to take a bow.

But to Amien's astonishment, his story wasn't shut down by boos and hisses. The audience politely clapped, and he even heard some cheers coming from the back rows. The children beamed like babies as they joined hands and bowed before the audience. Amien was so pleased by the reaction that he leapt up from his seat and clapped as fast as he could.

The rest of the competition dragged on. Amien was bored by every single story and didn't remember one thing about any of them. Sure, some of the costumes were lovely and eye-catching, but that didn't mean they were memorable. No, Amien's story was the best. He was sure of it. He knew he had a great chance of being crowned king. None of these other stories could win the hearts of the citizens like his story did.

Amien did notice one common element that many different stories shared with each other: the actor, singer and instrumentalist Cosmos Preyer, who was popular throughout all of the Twelve Island thanks to Amien's invention of the Mirror Gates. Before traveling between islands had been possible, Cosmos had been an lonesome shepherd boy who played his lute and his flute to ease the sheep. When the Mirror Gates were installed though, Cosmos Preyer traveled throughout the Twelve Islands and played his songs and sang his ballads for everyone who wanted to listen. He became universally admired very quickly. Now he was a wealthy, famous musician whom everyone hired to entertain in restaurants or act in theater stories. Although, most of the acting Cosmos did onstage was just singing or playing background music. Still, everyone recognized him no matter how insignificant his story character was. Amien enjoyed the musician's songs which he wrote all himself, but Amien was nearly bored to tears by every story Cosmos was featured in. It wasn't Cosmos' fault, of course, but Amien longed for the day when he would see Cosmos perform one of his masterpieces offstage without being distracted by a mediocre plot surrounding it.

When the last story had been told, Amien sighed with relief. Everyone was required to vote except for the writers and actors who had participated in the contest. Amien eagerly awaited to hear the results. His knee bounced up and down as he gripped the arm rests of his seat. He was glad that the writers had to remain anonymous. Although he liked himself, Amien felt that nobody would like him as a person. But they would love his story. He was certain of it.

Finally, it was time to announce and crown the king of the Twelve Islands. Everyone held their breaths as Lindo Que unfurled a scroll on the stage in front of every citizen in the Twelve Islands. Then he proclaimed in a loud, booming voice:

"THE WINNER OF THE THEATER CONTEST AND THE ONE TO BE CROWNED KING OF THE TWELVE ISLANDS IS..."

Amien nearly fell off the edge of his seat as he stared hopefully at the advisor Lindo.

"REIGNALD DALANDER!"

The crowds burst into deafening applause as Amien felt his tense body lose all vigor and life. He stopped gripping the arm rests. Everyone stayed seated as Lindo Que raised his bejeweled hand to silence the audience.

"REIGNALD DALANDER IS THE WRITER OF THE STORY WHICH WAS MOST VOTED FOR: THE SPIRIT OF THE TREE!"

Now the audience was erupting with cheers and whistles. They arose from their seats and clapped violently, while Amien sat in shock in the forest of people. Amien did in fact remember the story The Spirit of the Tree. It had an intriguing plot, but ended up being a ridiculous story about a tree that could talk and then everyone fell in love with it, but then it was going to be cut down so that its parts could be used for potions of healing and then everyone protested and how did it all end? Everyone ended up sacrificing their lives to save the tree and the tree was left all alone for the rest of its miserable life. The audience had found the ending touching and satisfying, but Amien had found it ridiculous. And now the director of the story was the king of the Twelve Islands...and Amien wasn't.

Lindo Que invited Reignald Dalander to the stage so that he could be crowned king.

Onto the stage hopped a shocked young man with straight, carefree brown hair dancing in the wind. He was wearing a dark blue vest over a white collared shirt and he had rectangular glasses on his face which made his chocolate brown eyes twinkle in the daytime sun. He fiddled with his collar as his face flushed red like a pomegranate. There were a couple whispers in the audience as the stage became unexpectedly quiet and the new king continued to fidget and blush.

"Reignald Dalander!" Lindo proclaimed, picking up an ornate golden crown from a violet velvet cushion. "I crown you..."

The diadem landed on the young peasant's head.

"KING REIGNALD! OF THE TWELVE ISLANDS!"

"Long live King Reignald!"

"Long live King Reignald!"

"Long live King Reignald!"

The audience chanted three times in a row before once again exploding into cheers. Amien was too shocked to say or do anything. He was standing now, but his mind was elsewhere.

"Thank you so much!" Reignald shouted to his people, smiling nervously.

He finally stopped gripping his collar and held his hands up to quiet the people.

"I would just like to say a few words!" he yelled, his voice sounding light, buoyant and happy like a cloud in the breeze.

"I am absolutely thrilled that I, as a regular citizen of the Twelve Islands was granted this wonderful opportunity to be crowned the King of the Twelve Islands! I would just like to say that I have long awaited this historic moment in time! When the royals and nobles hear from the peasants rather than vice versa! I could not be more grateful! I know what it is like to work on a farm, to live in the village, to listen to orders! But no more! Instead, I now give the orders! I am the king and I will be heard! I will be listened to! I will be obeyed!"

The new king was still smiling and his voice was still cheerful despite his firm words. Lindo Que then exchanged glances with the rest of the advisors who all had highly concerned expressions on their white faces.

King Reignald went on before the audience or the advisors could interrupt him.

"I, knowing the struggles and hardships of the citizens, will act immediately to make their lives easier, more luxurious and especially, more privileged! No more will you hunger, thirst and sweat under the burning sun! Rather, you will be shaded by the trees of my spirit for you!"

The audience gasped in delight as they heard King Reignald's clever reference to his theater story.

"I will shade you with my loving care and compassion! I know what it is like to be in your shoes! I know that most of you are too poor to have shoes! There will be no more poverty! No more hunger! No more misery! I, your king, shall save you all! Do not worry! I am finally here!"

The audience could not contain themselves any longer. They bounced up and down with joy, shouting and screaming to cheer on their new king. They raised their arms and some even started laughing and dancing, grabbing each other and spinning around with glee.

The king let them dance for a while until finally raising his hands in the air again with a grin. The audience fell silent immediately, still giggling and smiling at the charming king.

He opened his smiling mouth to speak again, but he was suddenly stopped.

"You are not fit to be king!"

King Reignald's smile vanished and he whipped his head to the side to find where the voice had come from. His hands were still in the air, as if he was posing for a portrait.

The voice, though it had sounded bold and fierce, was clearly the voice of a girl. Everyone turned their heads to see who had spoken. The people right next to her moved away from her, clearing a path so that she could walk up to the king. She stood in front of the stage, glaring up at the king with her fists slightly clenched.

Everyone immediately noticed that she had unkempt white hair that only went down to her chin. Her big eyes were blue as the noonday sky. She wore all black leather along with a red bandanna around her neck. Her earrings were little gold stars, clearly made from scrap metal.

The king glared down at her and his eyes grew round with fury behind his wide glasses.

"How dare you," he whispered under his breath, only loud enough for the girl to hear.

"You are not fit to be king!" she repeated, quieter this time. "And I will not see you rule over these islands!"

"I am ALREADY ruling over these islands!" the king shouted down at her. "See this crown on my head! I have already been deemed the king of the Twelve Islands! There is nothing you can do to change that, stupid girl!"

"I can already tell that you are selfish, foolish and irresponsible and you haven't even been brought to the palace yet! Imagine the damage you will do to the people of these islands when you actually start instituting laws to serve only your own desires! And the worst part is, you say that you will do everything for the people! You tell them that you are compassionate and they believe you! But I do not! I see right through you, tyrant!"

The girl held out her arm, pointing her finger up at the tall, infuriated king.

"I challenge you!" the girl suddenly shouted, before King Reignald could do or say anything. "I will write and direct a theater story of my own, and if it wins more admiration than what you write, you will not be crowned king!"

Her wild white strands of hair danced around her face in the fresh breeze.

King Reignald finally let out a laugh. Then he started snickering uncontrollably. "We have already held a theater competition, silly girl. And I won! If you wanted to be crowned ruler, you should have written a better story!"

"I did not write a story!" the girl snapped back. "Because I did not want to be a ruler! I am humble enough to admit that I am not fit to rule over the Twelve Islands! But now I see a fool like you up here with a crown on his head, and I cannot stay silent. I challenge you!"

King Reignald narrowed his flaming eyes.

"What is your name, peasant?" he suddenly asked, clenching his fists at his sides.

The girl relaxed her hands and stopped leaning forward. She stood up straight and said her name:

"I am Diamond the Willow Wanderer," she stated, keeping her face calm and still.

The king tilted his head at the strange name.

"Well, Diamond the Willow Wanderer!" he stated, almost smirking. "I, as king of the Twelve Islands, REFUSE your challenge!"

There were gasps from the audience, but the most surprised person was the girl.

"And I BANISH you from the Twelve Islands! You are no longer welcome on the dry land of this kingdom!"

King Reignald pointed down at her, with a cold look in his once warm and glistening eyes. Now they were dark and lifeless.

That's when Lindo spoke up.

"My king, you cannot banish someone from the Twelve Islands unless you throw them into the sea..." Lindo murmured to the king.

"Then INTO THE SEA SHE GOES!" King Reignald yelled, sending his voice to the highest mountain. "I! BANISH! HER!"

Lindo saw no other choice but to obey his king.

"Sir Grenton! Seize the girl and have her thrown into the ocean!" Lindo ordered, his icy purple eyes gazing down at the girl with pity.

Out of nowhere, a young knight in black armor which was lined with gold, rushed into the audience to seize the Willow Wanderer. But just before Sir Grenton reached the girl, she turned back to the king and with a voice as cold and deep as the sea, she murmured:

"You will never find me."

Suddenly, the girl with white hair leapt straight into the sky and shot up through the clouds, vanishing out of sight.

Screams and cries leapt from the mouths of the citizens who looked up to find her. They began running around in panic, ensuing great chaos in the presence of the king...the king, who was greatly troubled by what he had just seen.

"What is she, Lindo?" King Reignald asked in horror, keeping his eyes on the sky.

Lindo, remaining calm, stared at the king with concern in his eyes and replied, "I believe she is a Gift Wielder, Your Majesty. She has the Gift of Flight. Gift Wielders are very rare. In fact, until just now, I did not even believe they existed."

"I want her found and I want her drowned!" the king hissed through his teeth.

"It may be hard to find and drown someone who can fly, but we will have her killed as soon as we find her, Your Majesty. Do not worry," Lindo said calmly.

But all the king did from then on was worry. He became paranoid and found it difficult to sleep. No matter how soft his bed was or how warm his bedroom was, the king found it hard to close his eyes for one second.

Eating was also difficult for the king. Lindo had the greatest chefs brought in to cook the finest meals for King Reignald, but he was disinterested in all of them.

"I cannot rest or relax until that traitor - that CRIMINAL - is found!" he shouted, throwing his bowl to the ground, sending the chicken parsley soup flying across the stone floor.

Lindo tried to think of something comforting to say, but suddenly, the king started laughing.

He chuckled quietly to himself and his snickers grew louder and louder until he was screaming with maniacal laughter.

"What is it, my king?" Lindo asked.

"I just thought of something funny, that's all," the king chuckled.

Lindo never discovered what had been so funny that had caused the king to cry with laughter.

But the king was surely going crazy. The citizens didn't know it, though, because the advisors were good at covering it up. Lindo made sure that the king was stable and calm whenever he appeared in public to attend an event or give a speech. Reignald was charismatic and charming, with a contagious laugh that made all the people smile and giggle with pleasure.

Still, the citizens quickly lost interest in the king and stopped believing in his promises to appeal to the peasants' wishes. Instead, King Reignald was preoccupied with finding the Willow Wanderer who was "a dangerous, prideful and hateful Gift Wielder who used her gift for evil." That's what he told everyone.

There really was no sign of her. Diamond the Willow Wanderer was either hiding in the clouds or dead. Nobody reported seeing her or hearing about her. It was as if she had never even existed in the first place. Perhaps, King Reignald had been confronted by a ghost at his coronation.

But that did not stop King Reignald. He began to suspect that his own people were lying to protect Diamond the Willow Wanderer. And the king became even more angry and more paranoid within the walls of his palaces. He still smiled in public, but eventually, he established a law that would drastically change the culture and lifestyle of the Twelve Islands.

He said to Lindo:

"I want you to go to every island and destroy the Mirror Gates. Each island shall have only two Mirror Gates except the First Island and the Twelfth Island, which is where I live. The First Island's Mirror Gate shall lead to the Second Island's Mirror Gate. And then at the opposite end of the Second Island will be the Mirror Gate that leads to the Third Island. Do you understand what you are to do?"

Lindo swallowed uncomfortably.

"My king, this will make travel very inconvenient for everyone."

"That's the point, Lindo! I don't want travel to be so easy for people anymore! It makes it easier for everyone to plot against me! To deliver messages that I might not want delivered! It's far too easy for people to convene and start a riot or even a rebellion against me! And I want every single Mirror Gate to be guarded by a Palace Knight so that nobody can pass through unless they have a good reason!"

King Reignald panted heavily after finishing his long rant.

"What qualifies for a good reason, Your Majesty?" Lindo asked, curiously.

"We will cross that bridge when we come to it! Just go and destroy the correct Mirror Gates and leave no more than two on each island! GO!"

So Lindo was forced to destroy what he had created. He was forced to remain loyal to his king.

And while the laughing, crazy King Reignald hid inside his Palace on the Twelfth Island, far away on the First Island, Professor Amien was plotting against the tyrant.