The Jewels Rise Again: Chapter 9 & 10

I posted this yesterday, but for some reason it never went through...possibly an issue with my school's wifi. Anyway, here are chapters 9 & 10 :)

Restored Life and Renewed Love

“He found it!” Kalmar cried, running towards his mother as soon as Artham set him down in the courtyard. “He found it!” He threw his arms around her, tears glistening on his cheeks. “The Maker found it for us, Mama.” 

Nia looked up at Artham in wonder. “The Maker?” she whispered, a weight lifting from her heart. Artham nodded. 

“Sara! Leeli! Oskar!” Nia called to the others. Leeli and Oskar came. 

“Sara’s staying with Janner,” Leeli explained. “She said she doesn’t want him to be alone.”

“Well, then,” Nia said briskly. “I’ll just have to go in and tell her myself. Leeli, Oskar, Artham and Kalmar can fill you in.” The two gathered around Kal and Artham — quite opposites, Nia noted humorously. Leeli was slender and tiny, Oskar was jiggly and round.

She walked through the archway and went into the room they had laid Janner’s body in. She smiled at Sara. The poor girl hadn’t left his side for more than a few minutes in the past two days. Sometimes she had talked to him. More often, though, she had sat there silently, holding his hand or stroking his hair, looking off into the distance. 

“Sara, they found it,” Nia announced, longing to see Sara brighten at the news. She thought she saw a flicker of a smile across her face. Then it was gone, and replaced with that look of grief Nia had become all too familiar with. “They found the Well,” she repeated, hoping for some sort of reaction, any reaction.

She was met with silence. Nia sighed and went to sit down next to Sara. She placed her hand on the other girl’s shoulder and waited.

“But what if it doesn’t work?” Sara whispered. She brushed Janner’s face. 

“It will,” Nia replied.

“How do you know?” Sara hated to sound so doubtful — the Wingfeathers believed the Maker would work a miracle through the First Well — but she was scared. What if it really wasn’t the Well? What if it couldn’t bring someone back from the dead? What if the Maker was only taunting them?

Nia brushed a strand of hair behind Sara's ear that had fallen from her ponytail. “There are two reasons that I believe the Maker will do something. For starters, the most obvious. What do you see before you?”

“Janner,” Sara replied, not sure where Nia was going.

“Exactly. How long has he been dead?” Nia winced inwardly at how coarse the words sounded, but she knew they were the truth.

“Three days,” Sara replied softly. Soon it would be four. She had spent two and a half of those days in grief. The Maker had spared her from seeing it happen.

“Don’t you see Sara? He’s still here. He is in the same state he was when he passed three days ago. The Maker has preserved him in this way for some reason. I believe we are about to learn that reason.

“Secondly, the Maker led Artham and Kalmar to the Well. He led them to it. He allowed them to find it. Surely He has plans?” Nia’s voice was thick with tears, but they were good tears. Most of them were. She knew some of them were tears of fear and doubt. 

“Sara, I’ve learned in my life to cling to the small blessings I am given. I have learned to cling to the Maker’s small mercies. Otherwise, I would stop trying and stop living. But I haven’t. I have clung to what He gives me to hope for. I hope in this. Please, hope with me.”

Sara turned and placed her arms around Nia’s neck, nodding. She would hope with Nia. She prayed the Maker would rescue her heart.

***** 

They had already spoken to Rudric and had nearly been trampled by a giant Nugget — Janner had forgotten how huge Leeli’s dog had been — when they pushed through the trees to another stretch of the endless forest.

“Ah, here he is,” Esben said, leading Janner towards a hulking form that he almost felt as though he recognized.

The man — for he certainly was a person — turned around and set his twinkling gaze on Janner. 

“Eh, Lad!” A familiar voice roared. “That look of confusion’s not much of a greeting for yer Old Podo, is it?” Then he laughed merrily. “‘Course, I’m not much old now, am I?”

Janner stood, staring at his grandfather. He was young and untroubled, and his hair and beard matched the color of his eyebrows. It was dark like Nia’s and glistening with youthfulness. The green dragon tattoo on Podo’s arm was gone, and Janner gasped when he looked at his grandfather’s  feet — he stood not on his peg-leg, but on two, sturdy, whole legs.

“Grandpa,” Janner whispered, unable to say much more. 

Podo looked at him and laughed again. “Oh, I want ya to meet somebody. Stay here.” He motioned for Janner to stay put, then he disappeared among the trees.

“Quite spry now, isn’t he?” Esben asked, chuckling at the look on Janner’s face. Janner nodded, still trying to process the new image of his grandfather. He still couldn’t imagine it. But then he didn’t have to. Podo came running back, holding a young woman’s hand as he ran through the trees. 

“Is that him?” She gasped and squealed and she ran toward him. “Janner, how I’ve longed to see you again! You’ve grown a lot since your time in Castle Rysen.” Her eyes sparkled with delight. 

Janner surveyed her, taking in her long, light dress and her wavy hair — the same color as his — that fell down her back in gentle waves. “Grandma…Wendolyn?” He asked, hesitating. 

Wendolyn clapped her hands like a little girl, then hugged Janner tightly. “I knew you’d recognize me,” she whispered in fierce affection. 

She stepped back and took in every feature of her grandson and smiled. “Well, you and Esben had best be going. We’ll have plenty of time for catching up much later.”

Wendolyn waved as the two resumed their walk through the forest. “Papa, what does she mean?” Janner asked, puzzled. 

“About what?”

“Grandma Wendolyn said ‘much later.’ What did she mean?”

Esben sighed and looked down at his son. He had loved the time they had enjoyed together. “Janner, the Maker has more plans for you. Those plans aren’t to stay here with me, no matter how much I would love that.” He smiled. “You’re going to go back. Back to our family.”

Janner’s first thought was that he would have to fight the voices inside his head, the ones that normally would urge him to stay versus the ones that told him to go. Usually, they would fight in his head and one would win an exhausting battle. 

But not this time. This time, Janner felt nothing but peace and delightful acceptance. It was wonderful.

“Janner, could you please take a message to Artham for me?” Esben asked warily. He wasn’t sure if he was allowed to, but the Maker’s gentleness never wavered from his soul, so he supposed he could.

Janner nodded. 

“Alright. Please, tell him this.”

 *****

They set off for the First Well at dawn. Artham guessed it would only take a few hours to walk there, based on the distance it was from Clovenfast.

It was a quiet trek. Few words were spoken and no sounds were heard except for the crunch of brush beneath their feet and the skritch-skritch of Oskar’s quill as he made some sort of notes on parchment. 

Every few minutes, Sara would look up from her feet and glance at the bundle in Artham’s arms, just to reassure herself that it was still there. It always was. 

She clung desperately to Nia’s words, repeating them to herself over and over again. After a while, she felt a cooling breeze of peace. She knew she believed them. Now, instead of praying the Maker would help her believe in Him, she prayed He would work as He always did — for good.

“We’re here,” Artham finally told them, pushing back flowering bushes to reveal a clearing filled with flowers and butterflies and every beautiful living thing. 

“It’s like a dream,” Leeli whispered, craning her neck to see every single part of it. Oskar’s mouth fell open and, for once, when he glanced at his paper, he was so dumbstruck that he had no quotes to describe the beauty of what he saw. 

They all walked forward in silence, so awe-filled that they could not speak. Artham rested Janner’s body on the ground and folded back the dark Durgan cloak. He pulled out an empty flask that had been attached to his waistband and handed it to Kalmar.

Kal took a breath and dipped the flask into the crystal pool. His hand tingled wonderfully as it touched the Maker’s Water, and he felt the sacredness in it. He pulled it out, eyes closed in prayer. “Maker,” Kamlar whispered. “Please, work through this Water. Send my brother’s spirit back. Maker, I need Janner. Please,” tears formed in his eyes and he blinked. “But Maker, it’s not just me.” He opened his eyes and looked at everyone. Kal looked at Artham and Nia, at Leeli and Oskar. Then his gaze rested on Sara. “We all need him. Maker, we don’t deserve Your goodness and mercy. But I pray that You will bless us with it.”

Kalmar shakily brought the flask to Janner’s mouth and poured in just a few drops. Then he pulled it back, corked the top, and handed it to Artham. 

Then they waited. They waited for so long and nothing happened. Sara felt tears streaming down her cheeks again. 

Oh, Maker. Leeli prayed. We wait for Your miracle. 

Everyone was quiet. Nothing moved in the forest. Everything held its breath, as if waiting for something to happen. The forest knew. The animals knew. They felt Him. They felt the Maker walking in their midst, and they awaited their Lord in awed silence to see what He would do. 

Sara, a Voice spoke, soft and beautiful. Sara turned her head in the direction of the words. Through her tears, she saw something — Someone — wonderful. She saw golden light that danced and flowed and sang and shouted and whispered all at the same time. But above all those things, what she saw most was love. Love pulsated throughout Him, love ran before Him and trailed behind. Love flew above him and filled the forest. He was Love. And the Love held something in His arms. 

He carried it like a mother would carry an infant. He held it closely and gently, not squeezing it or crushing it. That was when Sara realized it was not just something. It was someone. It was someone's spirit.

Young Sara, He said again. I love you. I sent you Janner in the Fork! Factory! to bring light and life to your dark world. I will send him to you again now. You have felt pain, My child. But you have endured it. Well done.

Then there was a coughing sound that came from in front of her. “Janner?” Sara cried, stumbling the few steps forward and falling on her knees again. She knelt next to him and gasped. 

He looked the way he had when she knew him before. He was no longer crumpled, stiff, and pale. His cheeks and eyes were no longer sunken but fleshed out in life. From what Sara could tell, the scars that had been there before were gone. 

Then Janner breathed. He breathed, his chest rose and fell softly. When she placed her hand over his heart she could feel strong beats. And when she touched his face it was warm and soft.

“Sara?” She heard the voice she had longed to hear again for so long, just a bit raspy and filled with confusion. “What happened?”

“It’s a long, long story,” she whispered, blinking tears from her eyes. He began pushing himself up from the ground, and Sara placed her arm behind his back, helping him sit against the well. 

“Mama?” He asked, seeing Nia standing just behind Sara.

“Oh, Janner!” Nia cried, throwing her arms around her son’s neck.

Sara backed away, shame suddenly flooding through her. Why hadn’t she waited? Why hadn’t she allowed the others to greet Janner before she did? He was so much closer to them. Sadness and embarrassment welled up in her heart, and she felt like a fool. She separated herself from everybody else, afraid to be close to them.

Leeli hugged Janner and he hugged her back, looking over her shoulder at Artham and Oskar who watched with joy, but he still wasn’t sure exactly what was happening. 

Then he saw Tink. He blinked. The boy who stood before him looked as Tink had, just older. He realized it was Kal. His little brother was no longer a Fang, but a little boy.

Kalmar stared at him for a few seconds and fell to his knees, sobbing. Janner crawled forward and placed his arms around his little brother. “Hush,” he said softly. “Oh, Kal.”

“Janner, I’m sorry,” Kal wept. “Janner, I’m sorry I sang that song the first time, I’m sorry I hurt you on the Enramere, I’m sorry you had to fight Grigory Bunge for me, I’m sorry you had to come after me in Throg, I’m sorry you took my place, and I’m sorry I killed you.” Kalmar cried harder as Janner tightened his embrace. 

“No, Kal. Don’t be sorry," he whispered in his little brother's ear. "Kal, I thank the Maker I was able to do those things for you. I thank Him that I was able to rescue you from yourself and save you from death. Kalmar, I love you. I will always love you. Never forget that.”

They held each other for a long time and no one said anything. When Kal’s tears had quieted to shuddery sobs, he looked up and smiled at Janner.

Then Janner glanced over his family, looking for someone. He was looking for the diamond blue eyes he thought he imagined, the diamond blue eyes that had woken him, the diamond blue eyes that filled him with love.

Then he saw them, sparkling beautifully, set in a face of goodness. Janner felt his heart beat faster. He pushed himself up from the ground, accepting Kal’s supporting arm without hesitation. 

Then it was as if everyone was gone and he and Sara Cobbler were the only people in the entire forest. The world stopped. Janner saw the diamond eyes and knew that he would do anything to spend the rest of his life with the bearer of those precious jewels. 

He walked the steps over to the young woman who stood there, awkwardly looking on as if she were scared to intrude. 

“Sara,” he whispered when they stood face to face. “I thought I imagined your voice.”

She shook her head and held back a sniffle. “I’m here.”

“And I want you here,” Janner said, embracing her like he’d longed to do for so many months. Sara put her arms around his neck and cried tears of joy. 

“Oh, thank you, Maker, thank you,” she said over and over and over again. 

There, in the radiance of the Maker’s garden, the family came face to face with the Maker's love and found it perfect and pure.

A Message from the King

And so the Wingfeather family, along with Sara and Oskar, witnessed the Maker’s incredible power through His Water. Janner and Kal decided that since the Maker had removed their scars from Gnag and the Fangs, surely they could not deny Leeli the same opportunity. 

She squealed when she learned what was about to happen and squeezed her eyes shut as they placed a drop of water on her twisted leg. Leeli giggled at the tickling sensation as gasped when she saw her right leg — straight, strong, and whole. She leapt up from the rock where she sat and danced all the way back to Clovenfast. 

Janner watched for a few minutes, observing the family and waited until his uncle was on his own. What Janner had to tell him was special, and it was for Artham's ears only.

Finally, there was a moment when Artham was alone, standing by the First Well and looking at the Water, while Leeli played her lovely whistleharp music and danced along to it.

"Uncle Artham?" Janner asked. 

Artham started a little and smiled when he looked at Janner. "How does being alive again feel?"

Janner laughed. "It feels pretty great, actually." 

They stood there without speaking for several seconds. Then Janner took a breath and began. "Uncle Artham, when I was…dead, I got to spend a lot of time with my Papa. With Esben."

Janner thought he saw a flash of guilt and fear cross his uncle's face. His eyes softened as he looked at the man before him: a man just as broken as anyone else. He had failed his calling and paid dearly for it. Janner guessed the punishment Artham gave himself was far worse than anything the Maker would have chosen. But perhaps what he saw was a natural consequence.

"Uncle Artham," Janner said quietly, putting his left hand on his uncle's arm. "Esben has a message for you." 

Artham squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head back and forth. "Can't be a mood gessage — good message. Been too fad bor a good gessage."

"No, no! I promise, it's an amazing message, Uncle Artham. Listen," Janner cleared his throat and began. "Esben wants you to know that he loves you. When you ran, he knew in his heart that you would do everything in your power to find a way back. It's not your fault that you couldn't." Artham whimpered and Janner tightened his grip on his arm. "Esben wants to thank you for watching over us. He saw you when you rescued Kal from the Fangs in the Phoobs and he thanks the Maker that you were there. He also wanted me to tell you, 'thank you for the song.'" Artham stopped moving his head back and forth and quieted. Janner smiled. Artham heard and he listened. "Esben said that you gave him the chance to spend the last few hours of his life with his children and wife, and that it was the most gracious thing you could have done."

"He thanked me sor the fong? For the song?" Artham asked, an incredulous look on his face.

Janner nodded. "He also said that you never failed as a Throne Warden. You protected him, his wife, and his children, and he couldn't ask for a better brother than you."

"No better brother," Artham murmured, a few tears trickling down his cheeks. "Thank you, Esben," he whispered, looking up at the midday sky. "And thank you, Janner." He turned shining eyes on his nephew and then glanced back at the Well for just a moment.

“Are you going to have some?” Janner asked him. Artham had been eyeing the Water from the First Well since they lived in Glipwood. 

Artham looked at his talons and his wings. He leaned over the Well and studied his reflection. Then he smiled and shook his head. “No, Janner, I’m not. The Maker changed me into what He willed, not what I willed when I sang the song to rescue Kalmar. If I were to drink the Water, I would only ask Him to heal my guilt. But part of me thinks He already has.”

*****

After they had filled both of Artham’s flasks with Water — “for emergencies,” he said — they began their trek back through the forest. Unlike the first, this walk was made of laughter, joy, and music. Leeli ran and danced around and in front of and behind everyone, playing her whistleharp all the while. 

When they reached Clovenfast, it was late and they all settled down for the night.

“Wait, Kal, did Mama get a chance to see the pictures?” Janner asked. He glanced in the direction of the path that led to his father’s cave. His father. No, his Papa. Janner smiled at the memory. Oh, he would thank the Maker every day to come that he had been able to sail and talk with his Papa. The beauty and wonder of that Place…Janner looked at his family and friends around him, longing to tell them what lay ahead. Beyond the grave was a glorious World, perfect and calm. 

Janner was glad, though, that the Maker had allowed him to come back to Aerwiar. He loved the Maker's unblemished World. He loved his father. He loved the Maker, and would have gladly stayed there for the rest of eternity. But he wanted to wait and spend all of it with his family. 

And Sara Cobbler.

“I don’t think so.” Kal looked from Janner to Nia, an expression of uncertainty on his face. “Mama? Do you want to see something?”

Nia looked up from the clothing bundle she was folding — Janner shivered when he realized his body had been wrapped in it — and tilted her head. “Sure. I don’t see why not. Sara, dear, why don’t you stay here with Oskar, Leeli, and Artham?”

Sara nodded and turned back to organizing a bit of food they had brought. Janner saw a flicker of sadness on her face and knew he had to do something. “Kal, you take Mama first, okay? Then you can show the others. I mean, if Mama’s okay with that.”

His brother looked at him, clearly confused. “Why don’t you want to come?”

“I do, I do,” Janner fumbled as he looked at Sara, her pretty curls tickling her cheeks. “It’s just that I need to stay…here. With the girls.” He stared at Kal, imploring him and desperately hoping that he would understand. 

Light finally dawned in Kal’s eyes, and he nodded, snickering. Janner sighed. Was Kal really going to do that every time he tried to spend time with Sara? He shook his head, smiling. 

He wouldn’t trade the teasing for the world.

*****

Nia took a deep breath as she walked toward the cave. She didn’t know what she was about to see, and neither of her sons had explained how they came to know Esben as a cloven who then rescued little Bonnie.

It seemed as though she was about to learn a piece of the story.

As Nia ducked into the cave and crouched down on the ground, Kalmar handed her a torch he had lit so they could see better. She brought it close to the wall and stared, blinking. 

What she saw took her breath away.

She saw…herself. She saw “Queen Nia,” from many years ago, light and full of laughter and joy. She saw a Nia who knew no pain, only love and happiness. She saw a Nia whose land, children, and husband were her whole world. She saw the Nia she longed to be again, yet the Maker had not allowed it.

“All for His good purpose,” she whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks. She brushed the charcoal drawing of Esben holding her against his chest fondly. “Oh, Esben. I love you.”

*****

A world away, in a Place that was unreachable by means other than death, a golden haired man stood at an easel, gazing at his newly finished work. Every line, every curve, every color was perfect. “Nia, darling,” he touched the image of his wife tenderly. “I await you longingly, my Queen.”

Notes: I'm a bit hesitant to post the next portion of this story because I don't want to fill up the spoiler fanfiction section with...well, my things. That's always awkward. So I may or may not begin posting the next one immediatly? I don't know....I'm just thinking about this.

All things aside, I hope you enjoyed! :D