“Now I know why it’s called windcloth,” she marveled.
She walked out to the balcony again to look over the isle. The air was chilly, but clean, and some birds were singing happily inside a nearby rowan tree. She quieted her mind, organizing her thoughts into a single collective memory. She recalled everything, from living in her home in Hyrendell Village to learning about the Oracle of Meaden from an archaic grimoire she had found in the village bookshop. Her journey to see the Oracle was hugely uneventful, nothing like actually meeting her. She pondered over the witch’s prophecy again, shaking her head at the intensity of it all.
“And who is Mathias?” she wondered, thoroughly bewildered at the name. “Maybe he’ll be here, I don’t know.” With that, she continued remembering her previous life.
Lythina wished that she could tell Hildabrand everything she’d been through. She would be shocked if she knew that the sealight was actually a huge bonfire light by the inhabitants of the isle. She’d be shocked just to know that an island grew out of nowhere in the middle of the sea. And that was the craziest part of it all: from Hyrendell, all they saw was a huge permanent fog bank lingering on the west side of the island. But inside, to the people of the Isle of Illumination, they were the island, alone in what seemed to be an infinite ocean.
“A whole island can’t just grow from nothing,” Lythina said to herself. “That fog has to be some sort of gateway to this world.”
Imagining a surreal doorway to another realm reminded her of flying through the Universe, and subsequently throwing up seawater afterward. Just thinking about it made her shiver again. And she was disappointed that she’d lost all of her supplies. The great food that her grandmother had packed for her, which her stomach growled in remembrance of, and…
Lythina gasped. She suddenly remembered the drawing she had made from the dead king ashes and the package that the Oracle of Meaden had given her! At once, she ran to her soaking wet clothes hanging inside the bathing room. Frisking it quickly, her hands shot to the small pouch on her left sleeve. Inside it was some damp parchment, her quill and the drawing! Carefully, she unfolded it. The ink had run slightly, but overall it was intact. She could still make out the distinctly curved and branching lines. She set the paper on a nearby countertop and searched the rest of her clothing for the pouch. Inside her waistbag, fastened tight to the leather strap, it still hung. She removed it and inspected the outside for any damage. It seemed to be in the same condition as when she received it.
For a moment, she contemplated opening the package to see what was inside. The Oracle had said that she would need it when all hope was lost, but how could that ever happen in a place as peaceful as the Isle of Illumination? Curiosity was glimmering inside her, but her intuition was stronger; it boiled caution, as if her own heart was screaming not to open it. With a resolute sigh, she decided she’d be better off taking the old woman’s advice of following her intuition. Deeply reassured, Lythina snatched her father’s medallion from the hook and slid it around her neck, hiding it under her dress. Afterward, she took the pouch and the map and placed them in a drawer inside the nightstand next to her bed. Her stomach growled again, and without a kitchen of any sort inside her home, she decided to see if Radna was available. Perhaps she could tell her where she could get a small bite to eat and some tea, if indeed people actually did that here.
She made her way out of her home, waving the entryway shut, and out of Residence Seven. Stepping into the morning light, she passed by the bright, thriving courtyard again, bowing slightly to some of the other people who were enjoying the flowers. The whole bowing thing was becoming easier for her, feeling more natural. Soon, she found Residence One and its reception desk. Sure enough, Radna was leaning against the desk, this time reading a book.
“Good morning,” Lythina cheerfully greeted with a bow. “What are you reading?”
Radna looked up from her book. “Good Morning. You look beautiful, and somewhat rejuvenated, if I may say so.” She bowed her signature greeting. “This is a story written by one the inhabitants here. It’s about a boy who learns of his destiny through magick. I’ll give it to you when I’m done, if you’d like.”
“Actually, that sounds great,” Lythina replied. “I’ve never done any real magick myself, but I love getting lost in a mystical story. Afterward, I start looking for magick to happen, you know, in the trees, the clouds, everywhere! But the only thing spectacular I’ve ever experienced was showing up on these shores.”
“Interesting,” Radna said, her expression turning curious. “Maybe you just weren’t looking correctly. I hear it takes a high level of concentration to perform it, let alone notice it.”
“I suppose I’ll have to try harder, then. Do you think magick really exists?”
“With everything I am,” Radna breathed. “You looked purposeful when you walked up. Did you need something?”
“Yea, um,” she started, somewhat embarrassed of her humanistic hunger, “does anyone here eat?” She could feel herself blush at the very sound of that question. But Radna only smiled.
“Of course,” she replied. “While we progress to perfect our spirituality here, we are not yet completely devoid of human qualities. When you walk out of the front entryway, look to your right. You’ll see a curvaceous building set against the hillside; that is the Dining Hall. We don’t put food stores in the homes because most of the residents prefer to walk among the landscape to reach the Hall. If you like, I can have one created for you.”
Lythina considered that for a moment, if only to see how it’s made. She wondered if they had to build it out of marble or if it was simply extruded from the wall, like the entryway door. Yet, she respectfully declined, enthusiastic about the idea of having to walk across the gorgeous landscape.
“Actually, I like how the people here think,” Lythina replied. “I think I’ll walk as well. Thanks again, Radna. You’re so much help!” Without a second thought, she bowed gracefully to her hostess.
“Nice,” Radna complimented as Lythina smiled out the front entryway.
There were stone paths set into the grassland of the crater, but Lythina had every intention of letting the luscious green blades slip between her toes. They tickled, further enhancing her ecstatic mood. She was almost skipping across the land, containing herself only for the sake of practicing self-control.
As the size of the crater was immense, it took her some time to reach the Dining Hall. The architecture was sculpted to be much rounder than the other buildings on the isle, and its curvy shape scattered the sunlight onto the grassland. The Hall had a beautiful aura about it that tasted of something hot and sweet and freshly baked. With a tingling appetite, Lythina stepped inside.
The large glassless windows allowed the daylight to illuminate the entire Hall. It was decorated with plant life of all kinds blossoming from ornate ceramic pots, and overflowing to cover most of the marble walls. A few rectangular stone tables sat against the farthest walls, with scattered occupants gleefully chatting to each other in between bites.
Lythina stepped to the nearest countertop, where another inhabitant was waiting to help her, and managed to order a cup of water and some fruit. As she sat down at one of the stone tables, her stomach protested against the skimpy amount of food, but she worked against it and effectively moderated her appetite. Parched of thirst, she drank the water in three big gulps. The fruit sparkled with an earthly sweetness as she savored a succulent apple and a juicy peach. Afterward, thanking the host with a bow, she left the Dining Hall.
Walking across the beautiful isle was serene in itself, but Lythina felt a nagging thought tug at the back of her mind. What was she doing here, really? Was she planning on gardening for the rest of her life, at least while she lived on the isle? The opportunity to live among this exquisite land with these generous people was