Arrival

The extravagence of the carriage overwhelmed Troova. The interior was a riot of colors and cushions. She was asked by the coachman to please take a seat, and did so with pleasure for the cushions were overstuffed with goose feathers and covered in delicate silk. The coachman handed her a cup of hot chocolate smothered in whipped cream and topped with shavings of dark and white chocolate. On the seat next to her was a box of an assortment of her favorite candies with a note that said: "Birthday Wishes From The Seven" and was scralled with what she supposed were signatures.

The carriage started off with a slight jolt that caused Troova's nose to be blanketed by whipped cream. As she was consumed by her delicious beverage, she hadn't noticed the man sitting across from her.
"Oh! Hello sir."
"Hello Miss", he gave a quick nod in greeting and then looked out the window with a blank expression. Troova took in his appearance with interest. He was a stout man of middle-age with a round purple-hued face, and he breathed heavily like he could never quite get enough air. His yellow coat stretched awkwardly over his protruding belly, while his stick legs were clad with purple tights. He very nearly resembled and Easter egg with legs.
"Excuse me, but are you to be my attendant?" Troova implored.
"Yes, Miss. I will be your guide to, through, and from the castle." He once again turned his purple face to the window.
Before she could comment on his lack of conversation skills, the carriage stopped and Troova's nervousness returned.

Quite suddenly, they had arrived.

Lucky 13

At the sound of her mother's voice she hopped out of bed and tied her tattered pink robe around her with a meaningful tug. The closer she got to the kitchen, the more she was consumed by the smell of fried eggs, garlic potatos, biscuits, bacon, and blueberry muffins. It was her birthday breakfast.

She stopped just short of the kitchen and peeked around the corner to spy on her mother. She was swaying gracefully to the strings and piano sounds coming from the radio box. Her tone legs told tales of worn out ballet slippers and extravagant costumes all in the name of dance. Her golden hair permitted a breeze from the back door to lazily toss it around her cheeks and frame her soft brown eyes.

"Good morning Mama."

"Good morning starshine!"she exclaimed as she turned to her daughter. "Happy birthday!" she paused for a moment, hands clasped in front of her looking over the face and frame of her daughter. Then sighing she said, "Here's your plate. Eat quick like because the carriage will be here soon and you still have to get dressed."

"Carriage? I'm going away?"
"Yes Troova. It's your thirteenth birthday! I told you about this, remember?"
"Yes, but I didn't think I had to leave you to get 'hosted'. What does that mean Mama?"
"You'll see! You'll see!" she smiled. But it was a strange smile that didn't fully met her eyes.
"But Mama, I'm scared!" Troova said.
"The only thing you have to be afraid of is the unknown, and that alone won't hurt you. Now eat up!"

Nervously Troova ate while thinking of possible situations that a hosting consisted of. But before she was allowed to let her mind wander, her mother reminded her to get dressed.

"Have you seen my star?"

Behind the eyelids of the sleeping woman her life flashed. Every moment, every pain, every whisper of love and every hard earned truth....finally at peace, her dreams served as narrators, calmly telling the story of her life.

**********

It was late. Much too late for young girl to be dancing under the stars. A million warm yellow lights swam in the dark sky like flaming gold fish. She spun slowly in her favorite red dress weaving her hands in the green grass. Despite the darkness of night, the tall grass sparkled by the light of the heavens. Her bare feet absorbed the cool dirt and her eyes were closed. She breathed in the promise of rain while a light breeze combed through her cinnamon colored hair.

"Then there was a star danced, and under that was I born" she quoted while gently colliding with the ground in a satisfied slump.

She was watching the stars move when suddenly a pair of brilliant green eyes and the soft face of a boy claimed her view. His wild black hair surrounded his face and had blades of grass weaved indiscriminately through it.

"Have you seen my star?" he asked.
"YOUR star?"
"Of course. Don't you have a star?"
"No."
He paused to give her an odd look.
"How old are you?" he asked.
"Twelve."
"Oh. You haven't been hosted yet" said the boy slightly swaggering.
"What's 'hosted' mean?"
"When's your birthday?"
"In five days."
Smirking with superior knowledge the boy replied, "Then you'll find out in five days."

A white-bearded fellow

The fire breathed in and out happily in the hearth while the old man curled his socked toes in the weight of the warmth. His well-kept white beard clothed a strong jaw and determined, but pleasant mouth. He sat quietly reading an ancient book by an anonymous author. Occasionally he would glance at the young woman sitting next to him in a matching high-backed chair. Contentment in her eyes and love blushed her cheeks.

"How are you, child?" the man's voice was soothing and strong.
"Better and better each moment." she replied.

His beard crinkled with a wide smile.
"I'm glad you're home."
"I'm glad I finally found you." Was her answer. At peace, she closed her eyes and fell asleep.

"Sleep child. It's been a long journey." Silently he covered her with a thick blanket and kissed her brow.