Rainey Ursula Molson in her mothers word

Rainey Ursula Molson in her mother's words.

         "I did not think it would be her. Her brother, Bernal, yes, he had the fortitude, the courage, and strength. Keenan has the heart, and the compassion. Witton has the conning. No, I did not think it would be Rainey."

         The wispy cloud circled Abbadina Drietus-Molson. She held out her hand as the wisp passed, the sparkles within the cloudy creature paused as they flowed over her skin almost as if giving her a kiss.

          "I know she is smart, the ideas never stop sprouting in her brain. What is it she says, they pop into her mind like spring flower pushing through the last snows? Still why her, she is just a child, only eighteen summers has she seen? She dreamed of princes, fancy dresses, and grand ballrooms filled with music. It was only last summer that she tended goats in the pastures and kept a lamb for a pet."

         The wisp stopped in front of Abby, floating there motionless, its core pulsed with excitement. The twinkles of light within each flashing, she sensed a hundred voices ... all speaking at once.

          "No, I have not lost my faith, But you are wrong, she did not defeat the ogres on her own that lunar elf was there to intercede."

Again, the wisp moved around her circling embracing and encasing her within its mist.

         Abby's ire rose in her face. "What ... she would have, How? I am her mother! I know full well who she is!"

The cloud moved out its surface turning dark as it edged towards the riverbank.

          "No, wait ... I am sorry. You are right. Why should it not be her, I was chosen too, was I not. Still it is a surprise. How do I help her to understand? She is frustrated with us, so much has happened, and then the blood mixing, yes, the mixing. What of that it has never happened before outside the temple, outside the guidance and influence of Draconia?

The cloud creatures whispers seem to surprise Abby.

         "No, I have not met the creature within her. But is she my daughter too? I am almost afraid; the paladin said that she, this dragon, killed fifty grown men in less than a minute. How can one as sweet and innocent hold within her such carnage, such rage?"

         The mist enveloped her once more.

          "Yes, I know what I have done, and I did so in his name. I see their dead faces every night in my slumber. That is precisely why I fear for Rainey. How do I tell her that she is chosen to be the Maker's sword, the hand of our God here on our world?"

          "It is easy for you to say believe, to have faith, you pass between the plains as easily as the river flows while we here in the corporeal worlds must suffer separation from his touch. How do I tell Rainey that she must give up her family, her friends, her life, at least as she knows it? How will the girl deal with the contrast? Now she sees happy faces in the clouds. She picks flowers to grace my table. She sings to her sisters, at times I think she is a better mother to them than I."

         Abby watched a branch caught in the current of the river as it circled in a torrent of confusion caused by an outcropping of bank. "I am like that limb, pulled at from all directions, and yet, I have centuries of experience. How am I to help her cope with the things she must now endure? She is still so much a child; she doesn't know how depraved humans can be."

         The clouds broke overhead, and a beam of light threaded its way down through the overhead canopy of the banyan tree to cast a golden circle at her feet. Abby stepped forward into the light held out her hands and took in the warm embrace of the sun.

          "Very well, I will trust you, I will trust her, I will trust in him. However, must I forget the past? Must I give up my memories of her chasing butterflies in the fields, am I not permitted to see those visions of her sleeping in the hay with a dozen lambs around her."

Again, the mist surrounded her, and they shrouded her in their embrace.

          "What about the memories of her besting her brothers, yes, I know that sometimes they let her win. Nevertheless, her ability to make them want to give in to her is part of her gifts. Moreover, those traits are hers alone, not any result of ancient prophecy. She has been able to read the needs of others long before any mixing of ancient blood and prophecies."

         From the rivers edge, yet another wisp arose to join the two that surrounded Abby.

          "Oh, Uther ... my sweet son. How do I tell her of your masquerade? How do I tell her that you were actually her oldest brother and not her grandfather as we pretended?"

         The wisp settled on Abby, it sparkled as if speaking from within its mist.

          "You were there for her, and you know her best. Well she keep her heart, her love for everyone she meets, can she accept the quest that the Maker puts upon her? Is she strong enough to carry its weight?"

         The mist joined into one being and encased Abby. She felt them take hold of her as she rose from the ground, higher and higher through the branches they ascended into the sky. Once the ground was beyond her vision, they without warning dropped her and fear gripped her, a crush deep inside her chest. Then the wisps took hold of her again but now they held her from misty wings, of dark pointed clouds. Their strength was astounding Abby felt their power rising within her; she reached out to touch the misty wings.

          "These are hers aren't they, this is your point, and she is to have all of the gifts of our ancestors."

         Abby rode upon the wind, the brace from it pressed her firmly blowing her hair free and behind her along with her tresses flowed out her concerns. Soon the ride was over, and the wisps returned her to the ground.

         Abby fell to her knees and bowed her head.

          "Oh father of us all, forgive me for doubting. I forgot that while she is my daughter, she was yours first. I understand, she is stronger than she knows, she is wise, cunning, agile, and faster then storm itself. Yes, she is caring; she will protect the weak, and defend the helpless. She will stand to tall before her duties, fortified with the honor of her fathers, and she will not hesitate in her sacrifice for the good of all your children. Yes, my Lord Father, she will be the Keeper that I was not."

Authors Note Word count 1867 before notes and photos