Davenport
an excerpt

Part One~ The Raincloud.

“She looks out over us as we sleep,
and quietly she weeps.
She can never know family or friends;
those who see her once never do so again.
Captured by the moon, chained by the stars,
all of her hopes now must be ours.
A young bright child, fragile and fair,
was taken and thrown to the spring time air;
where the wind took her to places unknown,
until she forgot her house and her home.
Now she is scattered all over the night,
where no one can find her and her shadow of white.
Though now she is free to return to her bed
she does not remember the way, it is said.
So she stays with the night and wanders the skies,
she walks with the moon and clouds flying by;
she looks down on the humans who no longer see her,
and thinks to herself…” Mariandrae trailed off in the middle of reciting her poem, the remainder of the verse flying from her mind in an instant. The young girl stood and paced carefully back and forth on her small vessel, golden eyes darting from the gentle waves to the clear sea skies to the arm of her sofa-like boat. The Davenport was indeed a small vessel, and had once been an ordinary couch; but the furniture had been made sea worthy a long while ago and was crewed and captained by the young Mariandrae. The little sailor sat down with a sigh on the portside arm of the pink flowery upholstery, closing her eyes and struggling to remember the remaining verses of the poem.
“She looks down on the humans who no longer see her…and thinks to herself…And thinks to herself that they all look familiar!” Mariandrae smiled happily, sliding down the arm and snuggling into the crook of the couch, glad that she was one line farther in reciting the poem, yet still struggling to finish it.
A shadow suddenly fell over Mariandrae‘s shoulders and she heard a young man‘s voice finish the poem for her. “But like the moon, her memory wanes. She will never return to her old life again,” the shadow shifted and the young man who had spoken came around to the front of the couch so that Mariandrae could see him clearly. Her expression brightened at the sight of her company and she uncurled herself from the corner of the couch to greet the newcomer.
“Regnmoln, I didn’t know you knew The Lost Child,” she exclaimed as she leaned over the bow’s edge to embrace the rain sprite; for Regnmoln was indeed the crown prince of the rain sprites. A young gentleman of fifteen or so, he had sparkling blue eyes and wispy silver hair that floated about his handsome features like a cloud. His skin was a soft shade of blue that shimmered against the sunlight in shades of pink, purple, and orange like the horizon at sunset. Compared to the prince, the twelve-year-old Mariandrae looked dark and dull, for she had a natural tan to her skin with a yellowish undertone, like the fiery earth; her eyes were a dusty gold and her hair a rich deep blonde. Many things abot Mariandrae were gilded, which made her such a curiosity to the sea life, and to Regnmoln, who had long been in the habit of visiting with the young sailor. Mariandrae enjoyed the company, and the fresh water the prince saw fit to rain down on her whenever she was in need of it. The prince smiled upon seeing Mariandrae now, and leaned forward from his seat on a low hanging cloud to return her embrace.
“It is good to see you again, Mari,” he said gracefully, his tone calm and slow, as soothing as a gentle mist, “I learnt the poem long ago, when it was first written,” he admitted to her once their hug was ended, settling back onto his seat and conjuring another small cloud between them. Mari looked at the cloud for but a moment before she remembered that she was running low on fresh water, and thus hastened to get her bucket from beneath the port side cushion.
“It’s been so long since your last visit, Regn, where have you been?” Mari asked conversationally as she held the bucket under the weeping cloud puff.
“The royal court never sleeps, Mari,” Regnmoln explained, glad to hear that she had begun to drop the formality his position required and calling him by a nickname, “and my father has been calling me to his side more and more often so that I may learn how to run the kingdom I am to inherit someday.”
“Rain sprites live a long time, don’t they?” Mari sat cross legged in front of Regn, rolling the long skirt of her simple white dress beneath her feet to ensure revealing nothing to the prince.
“They do,” Regn confirmed, seeming unperturbed by Mari’s childish behavior. By the age of twelve, most sprites were expected to be well mannered and formal, one of the things that delighted Regn about Mari was how she still acted like a young, innocent child. But then again, he shouldn’t have expected anything other that this behavior from a human child with an easy going disposition like Mariandrae.
“To my kind, I am the same as a fifteen year old human, but in human years I am one hundred and fifty.”
“That’s amazing, you must have much patience,” Mari said in awe, admiring the prince for his kind.
“Not really,” Regn shook his head slightly, watching Mari closely as she withdrew the bucket from beneath the cloud and dumped the water it held into a holding tank before holding it out to catch more water, “me folk live longer than us, and nothing beats a dragon in age. Ah, speaking of dragons,” the prince’s smile became a bit more mischievous as he reached into the soft folds of the cloud on which he sat, “I have a package for you, from Eyevhan.” Mari’s eyes widened as she took the small book Regn held out to her. It was no bigger than the prince’s open palm, and was bound in simple brown leather, though a trace of scales ran down the spine. There were only two words on the front cover, stamped in shining silver: Of Dragonkind.
“I can’t believe he found this!” she gasped, opening the tiny volume and gazing at the small characters and illustrations. She flipped through the thin pages, inspecting the chapter headings and some diagrams of wings and horns of various dragons, before shutting the book with a slight snap and grinning at Regn as she opened a compartment in the port arm of the couch and set the book among a row of book equal or smaller in size. She then closed the compartment with some force, leaning on the arm to make sure it shut completely to ensure a water-tight seal.
“I believe he found it in the markets of Eastern Marrindae,” Regn was saying as Mari locked the book away, “I know East Marrin is in the middle of a war, but it’s markets are as busy as ever. Both sides of the continent keep the best for themselves and only send their second hand goods to the neutral markets along the Fin.”
“The Fin is more a market for ships and foreign merchants as it is,” Mary shrugged, having only been to the thin upper region of the country Marrindae known as the Fin. The rest of the country was in the middle of a civil war and very uninviting to outside interference, even of the bartering sort. Though Mari doubted any land would close its doors to the great Eyevhan Q. Hawkington. Eye Q. was a strange, one of a kind bird that none the less was accepted the world over as the keeper of the earths secrets. He had great power, and was said to be as old as the planet itself. Known to many as the impartial one, Eyevhan did not dislodge and information about one country to another, be it positive negative or neutral information; thus even the warring Eastern and Western Marrindae accepted his presence easily. He had always been a part of Mari’s life for whatever reason, be it some connection with the girl’s family or an interest in her strange ways, Eyevhan had visited Mari as long as she could remember.
“I suppose it is,” Regn agreed, “which is why I suppose Eyevhan had to travel to the native markets to find this book. It is very rare to find a copy at all, let alone one so small.”
“I know, but I saw copies of some of the illustrations on one of the Serpents Islands and took an interest. Eyevhan insisted he find me a copy, that was two years ago,” Mari looked fondly off into the distance as she remembered the scene. “Still I doubt he found a copy that small,” she continued, bringing her focus back to the present and her present guest, “Eyevhan usually shrinks all the books he gets me so that I can carry more without taking up so much room,” she explained as she emptied the bucket again and set it to refill
“Yes, room must be difficult for you on this small vessel,” Regn observed, looking the strange boat over.
“It’s not too bad since it’s just me that needs to be above water, or in the air,” Mari added quickly as she remembered the Regn could not tolerate salt water well. She glanced up to him with a slightly apologetic smile, feeling ever guilty that he withstood the salty air just to visit her and bring her fresh water. Mariandrae was very well taken care of out on the ocean, and felt very grateful to have interesting and powerful frinds like Eyevhan and Regnmoln.
The prince smile gently back at her, ever wishing that she wouldn’t feel so guilty about his comings and goings, for as he always insisted, he wanted to come and visit with her, and did so out of his own free will. He always had to remind her of his choice to come every time he did come to visit, yet it never seemed to fully relieve Mari of her guilt. Still, the subject was always easily dismissed by the prince, and the topic turned to other ventures as the sun circled in a wide arc overhead, like a vulture circling slowly in the sky. Sailing near the Twilight Belt meant that the sun was lower over the horizon the closer Mari got to the equator, and the sun never set while Mari stayed in the northern hemisphere. The region around the equator was known as the Twilight Belt because the sun was never seen in the sky, but it was close enough to the horizon to cast a fair amount of light over the land and sea. Past the Twilight Belt, in the lowest reaches of the southern hemisphere, there was no light; a portion of the globe known as Darkworld with only the volcanic continent of Messo Firma surrounded by dark and cold waters. On the contrary, the northern most region of the globe was always well lit, known as the Noonsphere where the sun shone overhead all the time.
The sun had traveled nearly a quarter of it’s arc when Regn paused in his explanation of the different cloud patterns. “Father is calling me,” he explained simply at Mari’s confused look in his suddenly halting the conversation, “I must be off.”
Mari sighed, never liking to say goodbye to her royal visitor, “if you must,” she said half heartedly, retrieving the bucket from beneath the small cloud that had long ago stopped drizzling. “Thank you for delivering Eyevhan’s gift to me,” she smiled the slightest bit, remembering her manners at the last moment before the prince left.
“Oh yes, you are most welcome, but I did tell Eyevhan that there would be a price for the task to be done, and that I would collect it from you,” Regn’s mischievous smile returned again as confusion spread again over Mari’s face.
“What do I have that can pay for the delivery?” she asked, not sure if Regn was teasing her or not. She discovered it was a ruse of the prince’s to embarrass her as he leaned forward over the gap between his cloud and The Davenport and kissed Mari gently on the cheek, his lips leaving a cool dewy feeling on Mari’s skin. She shivered at the sensation, which caused Regnmoln to laugh as he began to fade away into the air itself.
“Farewell, Mariandrae,” he had time to say, his voice distant and echoing, before he completely vanished from the girl’s sight, leaving her blushing and confused.