The Singer- Chapter 4

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Chapter Four: The Tale of Three

Once inside the narrow building, I realised that, in fact, the building was actually Lorisol’s castle. There seemed to be some kind of spell that made the castle wider and appear more airy. The entrance hallway was high-ceilinged and wide with tall rounded windows and a roof of stained-glass. The floors were tiled forest-green, and every three or so tiles there was a tile design of past Lorisol kings and their Lady .

“What a grand place!” I cried, still a few inches above the ground.

“Isn’t it? Lorisol is my favourite kingdom, as the castle is bound by complex illusion spells,” Loren replied.

“Illusion spells?”

“You are an inquisitive one, aren’t you, Seraphina?” Loren said jokily, but behind his teasing tone, I sensed a bit of exasperation. I was slightly embarrassed so I didn’t reply.

“Excuse my behaviour. And don’t worry, all your questions shall be answered once we meet King Ackador,” Loren reassured. I nodded, still discomfited.

Loren strode through the long and wide hallway until we reached wooden doors that reached to the ceiling. They had bizarre-looking runes engraved deeply into the mahogany that had a mystical feel about them.

“These runes change every week. As you could tell, anyone could walk right through the front doors of this castle,” Loren said. “So King Ackador had this door made to protect his domain. You may only enter if you can utter these incomprehensible runes.”

“Can you read them?” I asked, my head darting upwards to look at the runes.

“Unfortunately, I cannot. The last time I was in Lorisol I had a Rune Reader to read these for me,”

“Then how must we get in?”

“I was hoping you could read them. It is said that the true Singer is also a natural Rune Reader,” Loren smiled sheepishly at me.

I sighed loudly as I began to read aloud the King’s runes. “Alnash opulish sinca lavar marr!” My voice wavered with the miraculous power of the door’s runes. The door stayed put.

“Maybe you cannot read them. Maybe you aren’t the real Singer,” Loren’s defeated tone was not comforting.

I was about to reply when the great wooden doors slowly started to creak open. A loud, low rasping sound erupted from the doors and with a flash of bright white light, the doors were open through. Past the rune doorway, I saw the unexpected. Instead of a bustling castle of servants and courtiers, there was floor to ceiling rows of cabinets, books and clothes. Each cabinet could have fit about ten people and the clothes were huge. There were books that stretched at tall as the highest tree in the land and a red ribbon the length of me had tumbled onto the floor, creating a silky and slippery walkway.

“What is all this?” I wondered aloud.

“I don’t think I told you: King Ackador is a giant.” Then Loren walked forward, and, caught by surprise, slipped on the giant carpet of a ribbon and landed on his bottom.

*

“Now, let me try and find some teacups for you two. They are quite small so I cannot easily see them,” King Ackador’s giant face bore a giant smile with giant pearly whites. His front tooth was gold. It must have cost a lot, I thought.

After Loren had lifted his disgruntled self from the floor after he had fallen, he led me through the hallway. We eventually passed, but the corridor was practically a death sentence for us normal humans. I was still muddling over the thought of Lorisol’s king being a giant.

After the corridor, I was made to read yet another row of runes. This time, I faced what I had initially expected when these doors—metal—opened. There were the servants jogging with bundles of laundry and plates of food and the courtiers were, well, courting each other. When the metal door clanged loudly, finishing its magical opening, everyone turned and looked at us before two courtiers, a lord and lordress , walked toward us.

“Knight Loren! What a pleasure to see you again!” The lord shook Loren’s hand fiercely.

“And you, too, Lord Gregor!” Loren turned to the lordress. “My beautiful lordress Lizanna!” Loren cried, kissing the lordress’s hand.

“A wonderful day it is, once again meeting you, my Knight Loren,” Lordress Lizanna curtsied. “I see you have company. May I ask who this is?”

“Ah, I am sorry. This is Seraphina of Iffrar, or might I say, Her Lady of Song ,” Loren announced, turning to me.

“Her Lady of Song? So it must be true, the Singer really exists?” Lord Gregor’s thick eyebrows went sky-high.

“From what I believe, yes,” Loren replied. “But I must talk to Ackador about it for I seek great council on this situation.”

“Ah, you were always an intelligent lad, Knight Loren,” said Lordress Lizanna.

“Please, my Lordress, call me Loren. You are great friends and such formality does not suit,” Loren looked handsomely at the lordress.

“Quite right. If I may speak for myself and my lord, the same goes for us,” Lizanna smiled. “But hurry up to Ackador! His council is greatly needed for you two!” With that said, the lordress brushed us away with her hands.

After leaving Lizanna and Gregor, Loren brought us to a narrow staircase buzzing with servants and courtiers. Scarily enough there was no railing either.

“Be careful, Lorisol servants and courtiers are vicious. Often people fall of this famous staircase,” Loren warned.

“You say ‘famous’ staircase?”

“It is known throughout Lorisol as the Sinful Staircase,” Loren laughed sardonically. I shivered.

My first step onto the Sinful Staircase was apprehensive and frightening. About five servants came jogging down balancing platters of meats and pickles vegetables. They glared at me and muttered something about me being in the way.

“Ignore them,” Loren ordered. I nodded.

I’m sure the frightful name of staircase terrified me more than the staircase itself. By the time I had reached the top, the title of the staircase was stamped permanently in my head. Somehow, the Sinful Staircase title seemed evil. Loren and I found ourselves eventually in King Ackador’s visiting room, and here he was offering us tea and looking for human-sized cups.

King Ackador had pronounced himself as the biggest giant in all of Chrizxta, and one of the nicest. He had long braided brown hair and his elongated beard was also plaited. His eyes were a mushy hazel that seemed to have a friendly glint. His thick, bulgy hands measured the length and width of Loren’s horse. He was the most alarming thing I had ever seen, but yet the kindest thing I had ever met.

“Ah, here they are!” cried King Ackador, pulling out two blue china cups from a dusty cupboard. He poured a bit of tea into each and set them in front of us.

“Thank you, your Majesty,” Loren did a small bow of the head.

“Knight, you know me only too well. There is no need to call me majesty,” The king said. It seemed as if Loren knew quite a lot of people in Lorisol. “Now, what is it you request from me?”

“I request your council about the Tale of Three,” Loren took a sip of his drink. He looked at it queerly, and then took another mouthful. It seemed that he liked it. I took a sip from the tea, and it was like I had just eaten a fluffy piece of cloud—peaceful and calming.

“Ah, many have come about this, but I only answer if they have one of the Three,” King Ackador said powerfully. I had a deep feeling that he knew a lot of this tale, and yet was reluctant to share his knowledge.

“I possess one, Ackador,” Loren said calmly, but there was force like the king’s in his voice.

“Extraordinary. Reveal her,” King Ackador ordered.

“You have already met her, Ackador, and she is sitting in this very room,” Loren turned to me and the Lorisol King looked at me with awe.

“Are you sure? How do you know?” The question was directed at Loren, but I answered.

“I had some sort of golden glow around me before we entered your castle. I was floating, too,” I said.

“It is said that the Three find their true identity by Being A Cloud ,” King Ackador looked deep in thought.

“Being A Cloud? Even the most powerful of sorcerers can’t do that!” cried Loren, a mix of amazement, fear and confusion.

“The Three can,”

“I don’t understand!” Loren and I cried in unison.

“Well, it best be that I explain from the very beginning,” The king said. “Once, when sorcerers and sorceresses, witches and wizards, kings and ladies, good and evil were all equal and there was no violence nor peace in this world, Chrizxta stood still. Nobody liked this, so there was a meeting called at an olive grove. Every living thing—animals, plants—gathered here. They decided that in three millennia, something drastic yet wonderful would happen to the world. They knew the First War would begin. So, they wrote out a prophecy of three girls, each coming from gruesome places.”

“It has been exactly three millennia since that time, and now I think the prophecy is beginning.”

*

“So these three girls? Who are they?” Loren asked once we had had a moment to recover from the Lorisol king’s tale.

“We do not know who they are, but they shall be powerful together and defeat the First War. They are named as the Singer, the Seer and the Resurrecter,” King Ackador smiled.

“Can you explain what each of these girls are?” Loren asked impatiently. He was fidgeting with excitement.

“The Singer is the leader, the mistress of the Seer and Resurrecter. She has an unknown language which she uses to enchant others and use indefinite spells,” The king stroked a cat that had jumped on his lap. “The Seer, on the other hand, can predict the future. She can change the future depending on her very own actions. And the Resurrecter can resurrect the dead. She can enchant the dead so she can use them as the Undead Army .”

“These girls are saviours to whoever’s side they are on: good or evil. They are dangerous to their enemies,” King Ackador said.

“Astonishing thing!” Loren was swimming in awe.

“And you think that Seraphina, here, is the Singer?” The king asked.

“Yes, and she was Being A Cloud just before we entered—like I said,” Loren was now serious.

“There is only way to prove that she is the Singer, and she must produce the spell of Believing.”