Avaboya: Hidden World

Chapter 1

Briar’s Halls, the official building of delegates. Settled in Briome, Capital of Ambrias. Their reigning Monarch, Melodious, has early meetings with two councilors. She and the councilors look over identical reports. One is the Head of Finances department and the other is the Trade-Charcoal distribution branch. Reports in hands concern the charcoal distribution reports and the harvesting rotations.

The Trader Council- “These diseased trees in this sector will need to be promptly disposed of.” He points out the location on the map-section C and the current one in the rotation to ‌be harvested. “They will need to be replaced.” The Financer scribbles some notes and furrows his brows. She is doing equations of the costs and calculations of reserves.

Financier “We will have to reset the budget. They will probably use the cost we normally used to process them for charcoal up for restoring the damaged trees.”

Trader council “We already have a budget for the removals and replacements. Which we do anyway when we take them down for charcoal.”

Financer “Right and what are we supposed to do to accommodate the healthy ones that will be harvested? Wait, I suppose we can go into our charcoal reserves.”

Melodious listens while flipping through the reports and going back to her own notes.

“What causes this disease?”

“Root Rot, probably from the floods.”

“That type of rot spreads easily underground. Let's ‌treat the roots and remove the stumps thoroughly. We can’t afford to lose anymore. What is the accuracy of this report?”

Many rivers run through Ambrias, so they are prone to flooding, but most can be minor and recede quickly. At least once a year there is excess water from the E. Kloric sea where one of the bigger rivers comes from. Every other year, it seems they get a terrible one.

“The count is for the trees with noticeable signs that have now spread upwards. But the arborists expected this and even created an estimate that the surrounding trees may already be infected. Give or take, the number is higher, but we can test for that.”

“That is good to know. Perhaps until we find a more accurate count, we should consider the amount that could take out the normal quota. Even if its a small amount and we replace them, as we always do. I don’t know if it makes sense to take healthy ones from that section as well, since after we replace them we will just have a section of new trees that will take years to grow.”

Melodious thinks for a moment. -There are five farming sections, and this is the third.-

“We should remove the current trees, test the surrounding soil, remove any other trees as necessary, and treat/prevent further damage. After we make any removal and a better count, we replenish the loss. Any healthy ones will remain and seeds harvested to be added to the reserves. We should also skip that section this year and do Section D. I know that would upset the schedule for the year, but the quota for this year from C will be from D instead. Test those as well and hopefully in five years the new growth has caught up enough.”

Financier “That seems reasonable, but we should consider the reserves of charcoal from our stores. It will help cut some expenses.”

Trader agrees. As well as the circumstances of considering the extra time for testing and removal, will set back the harvesting. Supply and demand will have to be considered.

Melodious wrote up an emergency Arbor Culling Contract and signed it with the presence of several other councilors present as witnesses. She and the councilors signed copies to be made. Both Leaders would collaborate with their subordinates to withhold the solution.

Melodious sighs. Thankfully, this is fairly routine because of this being an occasional occurrence. Usually the only other thing that can contribute to such shortage are major fires or bad growing years. Reserving Charcoal and seeds is a necessity.

This is one of many audiences that are currently scheduled for the mornings. Some can be long or there might be some unscheduled ones. This is all happening while they are planning for their turn of the Unification Gala. It is the event of the year overall in high society but also among the seven kingdoms. At least it was. Thankfully, she has her trustee right hand, Jino, to handle it. Her pen pauses as she smiles. Her poor friend is probably having his famous hiccups planning the event.

***

-hicCup! - Jino covers his mouth, and the decorator looks up at him.

“Excuse me, never mind that.” He gets up. He only goes near the corner to get his breathing under control, a good way to get both his nerves down and his hiccups hopefully go away. There is a stubborn decorator that insists that darker green is good for the ballroom when Jino insists a softer green will be suitable. Then there were the floral arrangements and such. The lighting. Oh, and the dinnerware.

….

Jino is discussing an order for catering.

Jino- “Oi, surely there has to be a typo.” He hands back the receipt and does his own calculations. “The math just has to be off. 300?”

Merchant/Trader- “I’m telling you Gailias’ ramped up prices for ingredients. Some stores had a hard year last year. Just how it is.”

“Now hold on, this is no tea party.”

…

-Crish -

“Lady Railurus, are you alright?” asks her attendant. A ram-horned goblin. Holding onto her hand. Her head lolled back and eyes went to the back of her head. The Princess is having a vision. A seer can control visions with rites but sometimes can come on their own, but with some control. Her mother, wanting to use the gift, used some experimental medicines when she was younger.

Other servants have halted and tended to the mess or inquired of what to assist with. Several other tea goers; friends of hers or members of court are used to this spectacle, but some are still concerned. Across from her is her fiance, goblin, Mack. A long time betrothal courtship, he is required to attend many parties with her. It's not because he doesn’t care, it is just routine and unfortunately a vision can’t be stopped and just ride it through.

It passes and things calm down.

“I’m so sorry.” She apologizes mainly about the broken cup. Already cleaned up, and a servant provided another.

“No worries, ma’am, accidents happen.”

“What did you see?” Mack inquires. She turns her head to face him. Her attendant provides a brief sideways glance towards his ward just to be sure she is okay. Over his teacup gives a glance to the fiance. Mack notes but doesn’t care and goes back to asking her what she saw.

“Nothing of note, really. It was such a brief vision.” Yes, partly true. Unfortunately, the suddenness of them isn’t the only annoyance about them. It's one thing to be interrupted in such a manner, but then for half to be slipped away, like a dream. This time it's just not clear of its importance or safe to reveal and to whom.

It was only a glimpse of something she wasn’t entirely sure if it was present or future. Too shadowy, gray scaled. Willows glen- birds–circle of light? The scene quickly changes to their Ballows Woods and another circle of light. The switch happened so fast she wasn’t sure if they happened at the same time or not. She wasn’t entirely sure who to tell, her brother? Her mother? Not her mother. Can she even trust her fiance? They may not love each other, but they don’t hate each other. He is friends with her brother, who holds animosity towards her and he is loyal to his friends as well.

*****

In another world, a light grows to fifteen feet in diameter, letting the bird fly out. Exploring its new surroundings will take flight for miles.

*****

Melissa’s Groceries and Souvenirs shop. A downtown store. Melissa is just getting off the phone with her sister, Janet.

“Yes, of course.” Pause. “We will have the guest room ready.” She nods some more. Giving out short answers. The bell *dings* She addresses the guest, and shop neighbor, Cadence, walking in with a basket. It was a slow afternoon.

“I understand it will be a hard transition for Crystal.” *click* sigh.

Cadence softly places the basket on top of the counter.

“You look like you could use some of my fresh cookies.” She takes out a bundle of cookies wrapped in brown paper and twine. Cadence also takes out a tin and several cups. “Perhaps some of my chamomile tea as well.”

“Oh thank you, but you really didn’t have to.” She told her.

“Yes, I do. We are neighbors. Beside,” rubbing her belly addressing the kicking child inside. “I am familiar with family pains. I also put some of Jay’s dandelion and clover honey into it.” She pours the tea into the cup, bits of chamomile heads float in the cup.

“How much did you hear?” She asks, cupping the cup with both hands and breathing in the floral scented tea. Perhaps, it was something she needed.

“Just the tail end of the conversation, although you know how small towns are.”

“It's just my sister, I thought her and her husband were happy.” sips tea. “I’m sure she thought so too. Thankfully, it was a quick divorce and with few people she knew there, she would prefer to deal with the aftermath in a familiar location.”

-Sips more tea.- Cadence was dunking the cookies into the tea and taking big bites out of them. Just nodding and listening. She had known the family for years now; had only met the sister a handful of times though since they only visit a few times a year.

“How the whole thing unraveled doesn't help things either, I suppose. He fell out of love and just about the time he reconnects from an old flame.”

Cadence rubs her belly a bit and grimaces a little.

“Restless, aren’t they?” Melissa asks.

“Yes.” Melissa pulls up a stool and continues with her family’s new setup. She was one of the middle children, but older than Janet, so they were close. Life happens and is assured everything will work out.

Their conversation trails off when Bea enters the store. She was right next door and occasionally had Jay run the shop. It was common practice for her to visit hers or Cadence’s store during a slow period.

A busy body on many boards and committees makes her rounds downtown. She is Beverly Ziork, daughter of GreatWoods- both big names in this town long with Harper and LorVines. Looking into the shop windows, making mental notes to bring up to the boards. Eventually spies them through the shop window. *dings*

“Look at all the star shopkeepers all huddled together. Must be some hot gossip.”

“Not really,” said Bea, “Just visiting.” Bev, noticing the tea cups.

“Well, what is the saying the young ones say, spill the tea?”

“Sorry, all out.” Cadence politely declines, putting all the stuff away. She rubs her belly, an exhausting wave that isn’t pregnancy related. Sometimes her seers ability can take on a life of its own with certain people and their energies. Bea felt it too from Bev and the residue of Cadence’s minor distress. Lowkey goes over to help by taking the basket, but actually an excuse to grab her hand as a means of transference of energy. The energy goes beyond this lady’s love of gossip, it was more and deeply rooted within her family tree.

They know more than the town will ever know the extent of what they know. Their silent exchange goes unnoticed by the remaining women.

“So, have you found out the gender yet?”

“Oh, we don’t plan to have it revealed.”

Bev gives a brief confused look and quickly goes back to neutral, minding the wrinkles. “Why, how will you decorate the nursery? And the clothes and toys? How will you know what to give the baby?” She asked in a concerned tone.

“We kept a lot of the clothes from our older kids, at least the ones that survived their infancy and toddler stages.” With three other kids over the years, they accumulated a small collection of toys and clothes. Babies and tots outgrew things so quickly anyway they saved whatever they could. It was just simpler, that and going to garage sales. They even kept the crib and pack and play.

“Oh, ahh, that would be quite the mix and match.”

“Yes, all our kids had some quite interesting outfits. We love the variety and saving money too.”

“Hmm… well… sure.” Beverly agrees. But in her mind struggles to fathom such a concept. Never in her life were hand-me-downs, ever in her vocabulary. Her mother, she remembers, never would have bought second hand.

Beverly tries to steer the conversation for more gossip.

“Beatrice, The Historical Society ball is coming up nicely thanks to my family’s generous donations."

"Yes, please give my thanks to your father for his generous donation.”

***

Beatrice later lays flowers by the older church. It’s a shell of what it was since the fire that killed two people she cared about. A dear friend and her daughter. She wore a black outfit and a wide brim hat with a birdcage veil hanging from the side of it. Its been a couple hundred years and it still hurts. Tears brimming her eyes. She still remembers the scream and the light, from a portal that was supposed to be in there. They were faltering for some time at that point. There is still the uncertainty if at least her daughter escaped.

While she mourns, she hears wings flapping to her right. Looking over, she does a double take. Not far away, on the nearest gravestone in the graveyard, perched a large black bird. The shape is like a crow's but the size of a small chicken. Its beak is slightly curved downwards. The only color was its eye, the whole eye was red. No appearance of a pupil or sclera. It tilts their head to the side. Just stand there as if it belongs to this place. Calm being near a human.

Having many familiars as birds, Bea thinks to approach it. Just a few steps and stretches out her hand, palms facing up. There is something about the bird’s energies that just says it doesn’t belong here. Closing her eyes and grounding herself activates her second sight. Her magic mixed with its energies. She sees a flash of images in her mind's eyes. A vague memory of a place she visited before; a long time ago, before the portals closed; what many believed to be indefinitely. Following the energy to the location where the portal is now gone.

Her breath hitches in her throat. -Where did it go.- Looking around, worried about what its fate may be, here. The fate of the secret is muddled with many winding and interconnecting paths at this point. But the unraveling has begun. Armani must hear about it.

Interwoven the paths soon become. The bird taken flight again will roam its new surroundings and at some point will rest. It will rest upon a banister of a deck of someone’s house. More to the edge of the forest, this man, already sitting there in his rocker, is startled out of his seat. Bird in question will just take a few side steps back at the movement. Lifting himself half-way up examines the bird. He may not be an expert on birds, but this was no local species. Taking his phone out, uses the camera feature. The click and flash finally scares it away. He has a wide grin on his face and he scrolls through his contacts. Some old friends and colleagues will be fascinated by the news.