Fiora shrank back, newly self-conscious of her intrusion as the Lady walked gracefully into the water. She should not be here. It was too familiar a moment, but as Fiora started backing out, the Lady turned her head with a searching eye. “Has The Knowledge come to us at last?” Her voice echoed eerily in the otherwise empty room. Fiora was afraid to move as she watched the water curl up the Lady’s outstretched hand. “The Wisdom tells me it has. Come, daughter of promise, do not be afraid. Make yourself known.”
Fear fell away for her curiosity. Of course, The Wisdom would know she was here. The Wisdom knew all. With a new surge of boldness, Fiora sped towards the chandelier tinkling the crystals together in a quiet melody. The Lady lifted her head and smiled. “Fiora Sae Grue, Knowledge of the Air, I am glad that you have graced me with your presence.” Hearing Lady Darya address her in such a way was bewildering. The Knowledge? She couldn’t be The Knowledge. She was too young to be the chosen of air. It is only a dream, she reminded herself. Another windswept dream…
The Wisdom spoke again, this time with a gentle chiding. “But shouldn’t you be with your promise?” Fiora dropped down to blow a breeze across the lady’s shoulder in response and she laughed. “Ah, I have missed you, too, but it has only been five days.” Five? It had only been two. The inconsistency seemed out of place but she ignored it. “You must not allow yourself to become distracted from your charge.”
The water swelled up around the Lady like the lay of the land. Their town on one end of the brook and the mountain on the other. A small ball floated into the Lady’s hand and she placed it in the center. Fiora circled it understanding it represented her and Civyl. “Beware, dear Bloom, for danger comes from all around. It plots from over the mountain…” with a motion of her hand, an avalanche of water tumbled down the mountainside. “…and it follows from behind.” With her other hand, a tidal wave rose up from the town and both barreled down on the ball in the center.
An unexplainable sense of dread crept into Fiora’s mind with the advancing waters. Without knowing why, she rushed to surround the ball in a cyclone of air that deflected the water from both sides and the Wisdom spoke with the authority of the ages. “Return to The Sight, Knowledge of Air, and be his promise in this critical quest.” But what IS the promise? she wanted to ask. “Stay with him, Fiora. Only together can you save us all.” Save us from WHAT? But The Wisdom did not answer her question. Instead she calmed the waters and lifted the ball. “Hurry, dear one, you are being pursued.”