Fantacy
Praise for
"FANTACY"
"Quotation, quotation, quotation, quotation, quotation..."
–Selina DeLuca, author of
'Thrice Upon a Time'
"'A riveting and well thought out adventure with a richly deep and beautiful world, intriguing characters, and a story that will keep you on the edge of your seat. It will leave you wanting more!"
–Elianna Pyle,
Beta Reader
"The story held my interest from the very beginning; it was enticing and intrigued me to keep reading... I mean, when I wasn't reading, I wanted to go back and read more!"
–Émilie Beauchamp,
Beta Reader
"We've all dreamed of escaping to another world. In 'Fantacy: Daughter of Fate' you can almost reach out and feel Fantacy. You ride side-by-side with Arianna, Alessar, and Thoryn through the beautiful yet challenging landscape. You interact with all their friends and foes along the way. The trials laid before Arianna and her companions become yours. 'Fantacy: Daughter of Fate' by Vanessa Marie Caron is a truly well authored and enjoyable book."
–Dee Chevalier,
Beta Reader
Fantacy
Copyright © 2022 by Vanessa Marie Caron
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
ISBN EBOOK: 978-1-7781093-0-0
ISBN PAPERBACK: 978-1-7781093-1-7
Cover Design by James, GoOnWrite.com
Fantacy World Map Illustration by Sarah Obtinalla @greydiance
Published by Doucette Publishing, Ontario, Canada.
First Printing, 2022
Fantacy
Daughter of Fate
Vanessa Marie Caron
Doucette Publishing
I dedicate this series, my first work of fiction, to the Author of Creation, The Master World Builder, for instilling in me a desire to create my own magical world.
To Tea (Teresa) Doucette, for listening to my bedtime stories, supporting my ideas and for falling in love with my characters.
Thoryn will forever be yours.
Contents
1 Indignation
2 Fantacy
3 Hope
4 Fated One
5 Branded
6 Stone Bearer
7 Chores and Rewards
8 His Foresight, Her Future
9 A Bond of Completion
10 The Innkeeper
11 Meanwhile...
12 A Little Compassion
13 The Robin and the Vessel
14 An Early Reply
15 The Helm of a Beast
16 Mount Cerberus
17 The Tempest Within
18 The General's Report
19 Thunder
20 An Army at the Ready
21 The Scribe and Her Cat
22 The Essence of Healing
23 Melodies
24 Barnith the Coward
25 Dancing with the Enemy
26 Goodbyes
Acknowledgments
About the Author
WORLD MAP
“The light shines in the darkness and the darkness did not overcome…”
–John 1:5
1
Indignation
Is living in the shadow of the unknown a mercy or an injustice? This question had plagued and haunted Arianna everyday since her eleventh birthday. Now sixteen, the unshakeable sense of loss, of drowning in a sea of questions without answers, was a constant in her mind. She’d been subjected to a life of secrets, wanting nothing but the truth. Yet, perhaps not knowing was a kindness she should be grateful for.
The air was crisp and smelled a mixture of sweet vanilla and bitter peppermint in the beige kitchen. Sitting at the marble counter, Arianna stared longingly at the beads of condensation running down the small window. With elbows propped on the countertop, she sighed, idly twisting a lock of her long, copper-red hair between her fingers.
Today was not going to be a day she would enjoy. She’d woken to a plate of cold pancakes and a note left from her mother, explaining her absence. Typical, Arianna had thought, throwing the memo and the pancakes in the garbage. Another unresolved confrontation, another night spent in tears and another morning left in solitude.
It had started with something as simple as a school assignment – an autobiography to be exact. She’d been instructed to compose a ten-page essay answering the simplest of questions: her childhood, her family, her present and her future aspirations. What made this assignment difficult was the fact that she was an only child being raised by a single mother who refused to speak about Arianna’s father, life before Arianna’s birth and even details of her extended family. In Arianna’s world, it was just her and her mom. And the isolation of not knowing more or having more was a conflict that caused Arianna deep pain.
Despite her feelings, her mother was resilient in her secrecy. Her maternal love, affection and friendship were her strengths. Arianna knew she should count herself lucky, with so many children in much darker circumstances. The foundational aspects of a happy life were solid and Arianna knew she should be happy, but the nagging curiosity of what was lacking seemed to make the rest inconsequential.
“It’s not even about the stupid assignment,” she’d pleaded with her mother the night before. “Don’t you see I have a right to know?” The list was extensive and often followed a similar order. Who was her father? What did he look like? How did they meet? Why didn’t it work? Who were her grandparents? Were they still living? Did she have cousins? On and on the questions would come tumbling out of her, but her mother would tersely shut down the conversation without giving so much as an inch.
Their confrontation had sent Arianna into a spiral of anger and frustration. She’d spent most of the night with her bedroom door locked, crying until sleep claimed her. When she’d woken that morning, she’d hoped to come at it from a different angle, speaking more to the academic necessity for more information instead of her personal need. Greeted by an empty house, however, she’d been left vulnerable to the voice of teenage angst.
She swallowed, but her throat was dry. Forcing a cough, she shook her head, pushing away the bitterness and pain. But the brooding clouds of negativity would not clear away, threatening to overtake her in a caustic storm. God! She slammed her mathematics textbook shut, letting out another sigh of even greater exasperation.
Shoving her school books aside, she slid off of the stool, but miscalculated, sending her crashing to the floor. After a stunned pause, Arianna managed to pick herself up off the linoleum. She rolled up her sleeves to check for any possible injuries, but other than the throbbing presence of emotional wounds, she was fine. Arianna blinked back tears, deciding she needed a distraction.
Of all her hobbies, reading was Arianna’s favourite. Her hands suddenly ached for the thin scraping of paper against her fingertips, for the smell of its pages awakening memories of fictional characters and distant lands. She wanted nothing more than to escape: to be drawn into another world far from the lies and the secrets.
The stairs creaked under her weight, echoing her loneliness. It seemed the older Arianna got, the longer her mother would stay out. This morning’s excuse was to fetch some orange juice. But the pancakes had been sitting out long enough for Arianna to know her mother was likely avoiding her.
She meandered over to her bookcase, skimming the spines for something interesting. As usual, her hand rested on the powder-blue children’s book she’d long since committed to memory. Thumbing through to the scene of the father rocking his newborn baby girl, Arianna traced the form of the image as longing filled her heart.
The sound of keys jingling followed by the creak and thud of the front door opening and closing, startled her, making her drop the book.
“Mom?” she called out, skipping down the stairs to the entrance.
“Arie, can you give me a hand with these?” her mother asked, her arms strung with too many grocery bags like an over-decorated Christmas tree.
Arianna eyed her mother. “Wow,” she started, leaning against the wall. “Did that carton of orange juice reproduce?” Her rational mind was being swept away by her festering emotions. “Somebody had a little shopping spree!”
Her mother’s lips were pressed in a hard line; her face was taut and red.
“Cut out that attitude Arianna Gene! Have you any idea how hard I work to put food on the table?”
Indeed, Arianna thought angrily, but there was some truth in her mother’s words.
“You’re right,” Arianna confessed. Putting aside her pride, she helped carry the groceries into the kitchen. As the silence grew between them, Arianna made an attempt at reconciliation.
“I know what you said last night, but…”
As expected, Arianna’s mother cut her off. “Don’t even start this again, Arianna. I’m not stupid; I know where this conversation is headed and I won’t have it.”
Her mother turned to leave the kitchen, but Arianna was quick at her heels.
“Mom, this isn’t fair! Why do you keep me in the dark? Is there something wrong with us? Or you? Like my father, you say he is dead, but then how’d he die? Or is that just some lame cover you use to hide that he abandoned us? Is that why you won’t let me know my cousins? Do your brothers and sisters remind you of the regret you hold onto and of the big mistake you made in marrying him?” Her mother’s face was stricken. “Maybe I’m wrong, but I’ll neve
r know unless you tell me.” Arianna could see that she was getting nowhere so she pushed further. “You might not want to tell me, but I have an assignment dependent on information. Information that you won’t share with me.”
“Arianna.” Her name was but a whisper that moved her mother’s rigid jaw. “I’ll call your teacher tomorrow…” she started, but Arianna was quick to cut her off.
“No, I’m not finished! I’m tired of not knowing. It’s like I don’t even know who I am. Please?” Arianna was out of breath, her green eyes alight with untamed brilliance, a collection of evergreens fanning out around a dark pupil. She bit her lip, eagerly waiting for her mother to finally give in and provide some answers. And, for a moment, she actually believed she’d succeeded.
Exhaling heavily, her mother began slowly, “It’s hard for me, Arianna.” Arianna rolled her eyes. “I just can’t tell you, I’m not ready. I’m sorry. Look, why don’t we put on a movie and…”
“No Mom! I’m sick of that! Of you shrugging off my questions and avoiding me. Don’t you see how much pain this causes me? Like I don’t know who I am. I don’t just want to know, I have to know! Please, Mom.”
Her mother took a moment to reflect. Her sympathetic expression agreed with Arianna, but her response was short and quick: “No.” Arianna was about to testify, but her mother interjected, “No, no, no!”
The thinning rope of Arianna’s emotions snapped taut, but held – a single thread keeping her tongue in check. Shoving past her mother, she stormed up the stairs and moaned. Just as she was about to pass her mother’s room, an idea made her hesitate: if her mother wouldn’t give her answers, maybe she should find them herself. Arianna stared through the open doorway, afraid to trespass, yet tempted nonetheless. The answers to her past could be within reach, hidden somewhere in her mother’s room.
Tugged by invisible hands, the thread broke, releasing an overwhelming wave of emotion. All previous inhibitions were swept away, replaced by her selfish indignation. Arianna tread carefully across the carpeted floor; after all, her mother was in the kitchen below. Suddenly, the swinging of the spring-loaded patio door announced her mother’s perfectly-timed exit, pushing Arianna to throw away all caution and begin her search.
Opening drawers, she scooped out piles of clothes and sifted through them for anything that might lead to her past. Having no luck in the dresser, Arianna proceeded to her mother’s walk-in closet and continued her fierce search on her hands and knees. After a few minutes, Arianna was forced to stop, completely out of breath. With her adrenaline subsiding, worry started to ebb in. What if she was caught? To be on the safe side, she stood and peered out the hexagonal shaped window. From her vantage point, Arianna could make out the pacing figure below, her mother’s hands shaking with an unlit cigarette between her fingers as she contemplated lighting it.
Discouragement took hold of her. “This is useless,” she muttered, punching the wall. The echoing of her fist against the panelling sparked a new motivation within her, like fireworks lighting up. She hit the wall again, so excited she almost screamed, but had enough sense to keep her mouth shut. She was positive that the wall was hollow and began searching for a possible handle.
Without luck, she leaned her weight against the wall in defeat, startled as it sunk an inch under her weight with a click. Eyes wide, she shuffled back as the wall popped open, revealing it was not a wall after all, but a door. Carefully now, she maneuvered herself into the narrow crawlspace. It was empty except for a vertical built-in ladder situated in the middle. Her pulse quickened and her curiosity took over, providing her the fuel she needed to brave the dark and dusty unknown.
Clearing away the cobwebs above her, she climbed the ladder through the little square opening in the ceiling and pulled herself up into what seemed to be the attic to their small townhouse. Until this moment, Arianna hadn’t even known that they had an accessible attic.
A little afraid now, Arianna crawled cautiously across the wooden floor that creaked every time she moved. The shape of a box appeared, made visible by the light slanting in through the ventilation slots in the wall.
Drawing closer, she reached into the box, pulling out what appeared to be a dress. A musty scent was released from the confines of the box as she held it up for inspection. It was what should have been considered white, but now appeared stained yellow with age. Arianna’s heart leapt in her chest at the thought that it could have been her mother’s wedding dress, but that quickly dissipated when she realized its simplicity. Wondering if it would fit, she fumbled to remove her clothes, pulling the dress over her head.
Next, she found a brown leather vest which she fastened over her midriff, tightening it with the leather cord that weaved up the front. Now that her eyes had adjusted to the dark, she looked down at her outfit. The dress was wavy and fell to her ankles. The baggy, flowing sleeves were long and bound with brown ribbon between the shoulder and the elbow. A portion of the vest was left unbound at the top, folding over to show a triangle of the leather’s underside.
Arianna fell to her knees, her heart pounding and rummaged further through the box, excited to find a pair of shoes. They were more like slippers made of a tough, dark material with lighter spiral designs on them. The shoes were on her feet within the minute. Surprisingly, they fit comfortably.
“I feel like I’m in a fairy tale,” she breathed, no louder than a whisper. She inspected the fancy shoes, imagining that she was an elf princess. Had her mother been into cosplay in her younger years? Excitement built as she continued feeling around the bottom of the box until her fingers brushed against the last remaining object.
This time, she felt something with a similar leathery texture to the vest she was now wearing. She could hear rain begin pattering on the rooftop. A sense of urgency made her hands shake, knowing her mother would be fast inside.
With growing anticipation, she struggled to loosen the golden strings of the small, red leather bag. What if this is it? What if I am holding my past in my hands? she asked herself, uncovering a beautiful stone that fit perfectly in the palm of her hand. It was large and oval-shaped, like a bar of soap. She wiped it so that she could get a better look. Its surface was smooth and impossibly crafted with what looked like expensive materials. It must have held great importance, but Arianna saw no connection to any of her questions.
Still, Arianna did not disregard it. Instead, she brought it up for closer examination. It had three main colours: emerald-green, sapphire-blue and pearl-white. Arianna would not doubt it if the stone was indeed made from genuine emeralds, sapphires and pearls.
There was a circular white and gold spiral in the middle that had the three colours spiralling out of it. A thick and dark blue border with engravings caught her both spellbound and fascinated. The gibberish made no sense, but she read them aloud regardless, wondering what language it was and what it might mean, especially in connection to her mother.
“Rogue render Lusten endil lar Empri Harda hearakin tinri lucia. Inré tin rill an meurten healner tin Alessar rill anknowheed meurten ari arykiel.”
A strange sensation bloomed in her palm, the stone becoming heavier, warmer. Before she could react, the attic was swallowed by darkness.
2
Fantacy
Arianna found herself floating through a void, her whole being moving away from the attic and through an endless mass of colours. It reminded Arianna of the Northern Lights except that she wasn’t watching them from afar, but rather drifting through them. The drumming of raindrops pelting off the rooftop began to fade. In its place, the rush of a cool wind filled her ears like a mother humming to her sleeping child. The musky scent of moss and rotting leaves infiltrated her senses, inviting her to open her lungs and drink in more of its comforting, earthy aroma.