Find Me Alastar

My mouth drops open. “Wow. This is so cool.” I unhook the heavy antique bronze latch and open the

box. Thick parchment paper letters are lined up like cards. I take the first one and hold it in my hand as my

eyes flicker to the old lady, who smiles sweetly.

“I’m so lucky to have come across this ring.” I smile. I really do love it.

Her eyes hold mine. “There is no such thing as luck, my dear.”

I smile as I look at the letter in my hand. This is, without a doubt, the coolest thing I have ever held,

and I hold it to my chest.

“Your ring didn’t come to you through luck,” she breathes.

I frown.

“There is no such thing as a coincidence. That ring is meant to be yours.”

What the hell is she talking about? “What do you mean?” I ask.This belongs © NôvelDra/ma.Org.

Her wise eyes hold mine. “‘Trust yourself.”

Huh? Did I miss part of the conversation?

“Trust your instincts.”

I am totally lost. This old woman is senile. What the hell is she talking about?

“I’m sorry.” I frown. “What exactly do you mean?”

“Sometimes it is the sheep in wolves clothing.” Her old eyes hold mine.

Huh?

“Listen to your voice.”

What the actual fuck is she talking about? I fake a smile and put my letter back in its box. I’m getting

out of here. The old bat has gone loopy and is starting to freak me out. I pick up my heavy old box and put

it under my arm and smile.

“Until we meet again, my dear, I bid you farewell.”

I frown. When are we ever going to meet again? “Goodbye.” I fake a smile and head out the door.

“Hello?” I call as I open my front door. I have become quite attached to my new roomies already.

No answer. Oh, that’s right. Everyone is working tonight.

I sigh. I’m not cooking meat and vegetables just for myself. There goes the healthy eating plan. I make

myself a cup of tea and a piece of toast before I head into my room, turn the lamp on and lie on top of the

bench seat beneath my bay window. I carefully take out the first letter and open the thick, old, folded

paper. In the dark room, lit only by my lamp, I begin to read.

Your Highness,

I will do as you ask and come to your chamber tonight at twelve.

Until then…

Your trusted guard.

xx

My imagination runs wild as I envisage the scene set before me.

The large assembly area is filled with commotion. The kingdom’s army has returned from battle,

victorious, bloody, and beaten.

The crowds have gathered to celebrate their arrival and the Princess and her father, The King, are

perched in their grand seats at the front of a stage. The soldiers march in, led by their leader to the

sounds of cheering. Elation fills the township at their victorious and safe return.

The Princess’ heart skips a beat as he comes into view and she stands instinctively. She has

worried about the soldiers, but their leader holds a special place in her heart: Alchron the warrior.

Towering over the other men, he has a muscular, strong body built for battle, with long, chocolate

wavy hair that is tied back. Large brown eyes search for the princess through the crowd. He has been

the king’s head guard for five years, and he has watched the king’s daughter, the princess, blossom

from a mere teenage girl into a shining, beautiful woman. A warrior by day and a legend by night, his

bedroom sports hold as much notoriety as his fighting skills. He can have any woman he wants, but it

is the virginal Princess that holds his heart.

He can never have her. She is out of his reach.

That doesn’t stop him from dreaming.

He marches his troops-all in full armor-into the assembly, and they stand to attention in front of

their king. The loud sound of their armor comes to a ghostly halt.

The king stands and the soldiers and crowd drop to their knees in respect as silence falls.

“Welcome home,” The King announces.

The crowd all cheer and stand. The soldiers stay kneeled, heads bowed in respect.

“You have saved our kingdom, once again. We live in a safe place because of your sacrifice.” The

kings voice echoes across the hushed crowd.

“Thank you!” he calls. The king turns and gestures to the Princess who stands and smiles, forcing

the crowd to cheer.