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Callista's Beginning

The Tale of a Girl with the Heart of Fire

By C.N. McDonaldPublished 2 years ago 5 min read
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"They say when you are blessed, it does not always come as something you can see, but rather something you can feel." -Callista Duskfire Not My Image! I take no credit towards it, just the writing

There weren't always dragons in the Valley. The last dragons seen near this great hidden island were in ancient Greece ten-thousand years ago. That was until one special girl was given an egg.

10,000 years ago…

“Kyría, it is another girl.” Aura, Amalthea’s handmaiden, said in a calm, soothing tone while the child in the nursemaid held her. Like her mother the child had long silver white hair with strands of lavender that kissed her ivory toned skin, unlike her mother she had striking silver eyes with a red swirl around the iris. The baby didn’t even wail, she simply looked around the stone birthing room in wonder. Her mother, from hours of laboring with her, half asleep. Even an ancient goddess needed her rest after a birth such as this. “Would you like to hold her, Kyría?”

“No, that child is a monster. I want nothing to do with it. Take it from my sight at once!” Amalthea refused to even look at the child. This, thing, was nothing like her darling Ira or handsome Amadeus. This child was not Agarthain and she despised it.

“But, Kyría, you’ve not even named her.” The handmaiden spoke in disbelief. Never had she questioned Amalthea, or spoke with such disrespect, but how could a mother turn from her own child?

“Name it yourself, take care of it if you must. Just let me go to sleep. Keep it from my sight!” Aura would never understand even if Amalthea explained to the young woman how much this child looked like her father. How much she despised the fire in the girl's heart. Fire she could see now that burned like a star. When she had relations with the king of a forgin, otherworldly man, she had only done it for children. Now she had one that was most like her and one that looked like she belonged to his world. Amalthea would turn her back against this child and focus on Ira. It was the only way to ensure she had a proper, well trained, heir for her empire.

“As you wish, Kyría.” Aura took the babe from the nursemaid who had been stunned into silence. They all left while Irene and Clio, two of Amalthea’s other handmaidens, came to help her to her own rooms. Aura went to the nursery she and the others had made up for this expected child. When Amalthea had thought she would be powerful because of how hard the birth was, she had set up the nursery. Aura would ensure this babe knew her family. That Amalthea’s people knew their new princess. Even if she had to raise her for Amalthea and let the goddess queen take the credit, not that she would. She looked down at the silver haired babe who had yet to cry or even make a sound. She smiled and held her close. “What to name such a beautiful little princess.”

“Is that she?” Amadeus’ voice made Aura jump and hold the child to her chest a little tighter than before. Even that didn’t get a sound from the babe. Maybe Amalthea was correct, maybe something was wrong with this child to not even cry out when squeezed.

“Kýrios Amadeus! I am sorry, I did not see you there.” Aura did her best to curtsy to the prince who didn’t even seem to care she was there. He was in front of Aura a moment later and took the child from her arms. “Careful! Support her head!”

“I know how to hold a child, Aura.” Amadeus corrected, but not in a harsh way. More in a way that told her to stop worrying, but if Aura didn’t who would. He cradled his youngest sister to his chest and rocked her back and forth. She smiled as he made soft shushing sounds to the already quiet princess in his arms. “What is her name?”

“Your mother has not named her…she refused to even hold her. Called her a monster and said if I wish her to live I have to care for her.” Aura looked down at the baby trying to maintain a smile. As if the babe knew what they were saying.

“Of course she did. My mother should have stopped after me, or at least after Ira.” Amadeus scowled and Aura lightly tapped him on the shoulder in warning. One of making such a face in front of the baby and two for talking ill of his mother. He lost the scowl and looked down at the silver haired princess. “What about Callista, it means most beautiful, for which this child is?”

“Callista…I like that.” Aura said softly realizing they were now inside the nursery decorated in purples and silvers and blues. With a mural of clouds over a sea with a moon and stars peeking through the banks.

“Hello, Callista…I am your big brother, Amadeus, and I will make sure nothing bad ever, ever happens to you. Not from our mother…not from Ira. Not from anyone.” Amadeus laid Callista down in the bed, where she again refused to make a single sound. Yet he could see in her eyes little tears building up. “How will we feed her with mother’s milk?”

“A nursemaid perhaps…or when she wakes she will have to release the milk somehow. I suppose we could convince her to feed her.” Aura said sadly. It had been six weeks since the loss of her own child. She was sure her milk had all but dried up. She couldn’t possibly try to feed the baby.

“Aura, please go get Damiana. She just had a child and lost him recently. Perhaps she is still nursing. I know she would love to help look after her.” Amadeus didn’t bark the order as Amalthea would have. In fact he didn’t even look up from his sister. He simply spoke the words and returned to his task of making sure his little sister did not cry. “And when my mother wakes I want to be notified. I have some words I wish to express to her about her actions towards Callista.”

"As you wish, kýrios.” Aura replied softly, gave a low bow and went to find Damiana.

Amadeus’ attention was not only on Callista. A smile grazed his face as she watched him with big, silvery, red eyes. “Don’t worry little Callista. I see the heart of fire inside you. One day…you will bring greatness to us all. Greatness like we have never seen before…”

Fantasy
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About the Creator

C.N. McDonald

I am a novelist and short story writer. I am 24 years of age and live in my home town in Colorado. My inspiration is J.R.R. Tolkin, Rachel Meed, Sherrilyn Kenyon, Sarah J Maas, Steven King and many more. I inspire to be just like them.

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