The Fairy Tale, Part 11

This is a serialized story, Part 1 can be fond here

Within the marble fenced garden in the City of Legend there was more than one pair of eyes that was watchful. The kindest of the women of the Western Isles saw the broken spirit of The-moon-as-it-is-waxing, saw the stiffened spine of The-evening-star-in-winter, and her heart tore for them. With her wide, round eyes she saw their destiny tumbling out from the tips of their toes, as a newly laid road. Before Star and Moon, now dressed in the dusty, simple clothing of their arrival, could disappear into a mustering rank of servants she intercepted them. You will not make it through the City of Legend without these, she warned as she slid the dismantled fragments of a once ornate and richly jeweled necklace into Star’s hands, and you will not last long in the marches toward the foothills without these, she whispered to Moon as she passed her an empty drinking skin and a small sturdy knife. What risks the rarest and most precious of women of the Western Isles had taken to procure these items was beyond recognition; that she had held them in secret only to pass them along without question while she remained behind was unfathomable. Come with us, there’s still time!, urged Moon. You cannot keep me safe, replied the round-eyed woman, and someone will need to stay behind to keep these women safe. As I have always done, in secret, so shall I ever do; my heart will go uncounted with the brave, but do naught but good. It is the place I have afforded myself. And Moon saw the strength in her kind face, and wished that it was not wasted on a place such as this, and kissed her farewell before disappearing into the activity of the gathering crowd.

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