Continued from last week

Prologue Alba, 997 AD

The old woman’s eyes stared out into the mist, seeing more than what was visible to the naked eye. Across the fog-covered waters lay a land that none knew existed. An island shrouded in mystery and invisibility, which had been sheltering its people for thousands of years. The land was rich and warm, nothing like the desolate, inhospitable home the mainlanders called their own. The old woman had only been there once herself. Few of her kind could see it when, by chance, the fog cleared bringing it into view. To everyone else, the island remained unseen. The security around it was complete. Even fishermen steered clear of the area. It was long believed that anyone approaching the land would be lost.

The old woman had expected a reply from her friend by now. The urgency of the message would have had a profound impact on the recipient. There was no telling how much damage had been done already. Only her friend would be able to gauge the impact with her senses. For some time, the old woman had felt that her apprentice was more than who she seemed. Power, unlike anything the old woman had ever experienced, radiated from the young girl. The old woman was sure that the girl shielded herself. There was something more within her that was being carefully hidden. In all her years, the old woman had never felt so afraid of what it could all mean. The wait was becoming unbearable. Knowing there was nothing she could do to make a response arrive more quickly, she cast one last look over the horizon. Seeing no movement, she turned away from the cliff, walking carefully back towards the inn.

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