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Rated: E · Fiction · Mystery · #2330175
Contest prompt: The river ran backwards on the day the queen vanished.
The river ran backwards on the day the Queen vanished-- a strange sight for the waking villagers of Wynnmoor. It happened in the hidden hours of the morning while the Kingdom of Rivelle remained in slumber.

The Queen paced her chambers, shadows leaping across the walls in the dancing candlelight, as restless as her thoughts. She felt a trembling beneath her feet as though the river itself knew of the danger.

She unfolded her map, tracing the memorized lines with a hovering finger, pausing over the river's course. This map had been like a friend to her, a faithful ally. Fearing the worst, she whispered a secret incantation and watched faint, glimmering lines etch themselves into the map's fading parchment before disappearing. A final safeguard should anyone be brave enough to seek her when her fears came to pass. Placing the map back in its most secret hiding place, she rose from the desk, her gaze lingering on the mirror across her chambers.
In the reflection, she saw a shadow shift, revealing a face she knew all too well--Alistair, once her most trusted confidant. Betrayal tightened in her chest, but she kept her composure as the room filled with darkness.

***
The first to notice was Eldric Grey, a retired scribe who enjoyed fishing at dawn. Wise in the ways of the river, he stood on the bank, brow furrowed as the current pulled upstream. "In 62 summers, I've never seen her flow backwards," Eldric muttered into the fog.

The river's disruption didn't remain Eldric's secret; word spread quickly through the waking streets of Wynnmoor. Slowly, villagers gathered, lining the water's edge, trampling on dried grass and crinkling leaves. Children whispered, eyes wide, while elders exchanged uneasy glances. Some murmured old tales of the River's connection to the crown - stories too ancient for most to recall but haunting enough to still the breath of even the most hardened men.

A bell tolled from the palace, its rhythm broken; tone cold. The crowd hushed as a single whisper travelled like wildfire: The Queen is gone.

***

In the depths of the palace library, Finn felt a chill settle over him as he pondered the news from the village. The Queen's trusted scribe, Finn had already been awake for several hours, diligently copying the ancient, enchanted texts the Queen had assigned him. Try as he might to focus, the Queen's cryptic words from the night before lingered: "Trust the water, Finn. It will reveal what I cannot."

The Queen's connection to the River was a common myth in the village; a fun story to tell the kids at bedtime. But now, Finn couldn't shake the timing of her sentiment, followed so closely by her disappearance.

----
Centuries ago, relentless droughts ravaged the young Kingdom, bringing famine and poverty to Rivelle, increasing their vulnerability tenfold. Desperate to save them, the benevolent Queen Aeloria sought the help of an ancient River spirit spoken of by her grandfather years before.

Aeloria journeyed to the River's source buried deep within an enchanted forest. She spent five days in deep meditation, fasting and singing the old songs that honoured the River spirit. Her devotion finally summoned the entity, appearing before her as a silver mist above the riverbed.

The spectre revealed it could heal the land and protect the people, but only if she forged a permanent bond. She must tie the heart of the River to the heart of the crown for as long as her bloodline ruled.

Aeloria accepted, pouring a part of her life force into the river, thus anchoring the kingdom's prosperity and protection to her rule and lineage. This granted Aeloria and her descendants deep and powerful magic to protect the kingdom from any threat. If any of her successors failed to forge their life force with the RIver, the kingdom would fall to ruin, and the people would perish.
-----

Although Finn took the jo only recently, his family had been trusted by the Queen's council for centuries. This granted him clearance to almost every room in the palace-- anywhere that would help him serve and assist Queen Naida Morwyn.

He knew he'd find answers in the Queen's inner chambers, but he had limited time. The council would bring the authorities for an investigation soon. With haste, Finn ascended the winding stairs to the Queen's most private room.
Finn kept quiet while slipping through the door.

His hands shook as he rifled through the closet, his gaze darting from the desk to the shelves, back to the dark corners of the room. The walls seemed to press in, crowding him, urging him to hurry, though he still had no idea what to look for.

Pausing in the middle of the room, he rubbed his temples and took a calming breath. Sighing heavily, he scanned the room again, slowly. This time, he noticed something ajar under the desk. The queen's stack of ledgers, always so carefully placed, sat askew.

He crouched and gingerly pulled the stack of papers, old and new, out of the way. Heart racing, he started tapping on the floor, moving his hand around until he heard a more hollow knock.

With a shaking hand, he pried up the floorboard, revealing a scroll tied with a thick, ornate gold ribbon. Finn unrolled the scroll with trembling fingers, his heart pounding in anticipation--only to find it blank. His mind stumbled, thoughts racing. Why hide an empty scroll so carefully?

"Trust the water, Finn. It will reveal what I cannot."

Her words rang in his ears again, head spinning. He was missing something, but the approaching footsteps and medley of voices left him no time to dwell.

Quickly, he rolled the scroll, slipped it into the bottom of his bag, and put the floorboard and ledgers back in their place. Standing up, he raced over to the closet, pretending to sift through coats.

"Finnley, what a surprise." Finn turned to see Alistair's familiar, smiling face, followed by a handful of council members.

"Sir," Finn started, bowing his head. "I thought I would honour Queen Naida by ensuring her chambers were undisturbed, should she return
for a good night's sleep."

Alistair nodded. "How thoughtful. Did you find anything out of place? We're all desperate for answers."

His expression was concerned; the council members nodded in agreement. The Queen's most trusted, Alistair sat at the head of the Inner Council. And yet, Finn felt a chill run down his spine as he met Alistair's gaze.

"No, sir. Not even a coat is out of place, I'm afraid."

"Hm, yes. Well, we will conduct a thorough sweep of the room anyhow, if you don't mind."

"Of course, sir. I must continue transcribing."

Finn left the room as calmly as he could. Picking up his pace, he rounded the corner, descended the stairs, and raced out the door, heading straight for the oldest, wisest man he knew.

Reaching his destination, he knocked rapidly until the door swung open, "Finnley Scrivener, at my door!"

"Edlric, I need your help." Head down, Finn slid through the door and out of sight.

Frowning, Eldric darted his eyes around and quickly closed the door. "What has you in such a tizzy, my boy?"

Pausing, Finn steeled himself and shook his bag off his shoulder. Looking at Eldric with wide eyes, he presented the empty scroll with a gold ribbon.
"I found this in Her Majesty's chambers. She hid it well. Alistair questioned me, but something felt off. I couldn't bring myself to tell him. Do you know why she would have kept a blank scroll so secret?"

Eldric unravelled the parchment and laid it out on his kitchen table. Indeed, there was nothing to see at first glance. He squinted through his reading glasses, tilting the empty scroll toward the light. Faint lines intertwined, invisible to the untrained eye.

"Finn, my boy, look closer. You can barely make out a few etchings. This is peculiar, indeed. If this parchment remains unknown even to Alistair, the Queen must be privy to something we're not."

"Eldric, she said something odd last night while passing me some scrolls. "Trust the water, Finn. It will reveal what I cannot." She's never been so cryptic."

"Trust the water..." Eldric trailed off, furrowing his brow. "Finn, I know what this could be. We must hide it and wait for nightfall."

Two hours after sunset, Finn and Eldric made their way to the riverbank.

"We should go deep into the forest, Finn; we cannot trust anyone."

Nodding, Finn pulled his jacket tighter around his shoulders, zipping it up all the way despite the warm breeze on his face. They slowly worked their way to the forest's edge, careful not to trip as they traversed the terrain in darkness, avoiding detection by forgoing a light.

"Up here," Eldric finally stopped about 100 feet from the river's end and flicked on his lantern. "This is as close as we can get to the river's source without falling in."

Both watched, wide-eyed, as the river's backward flow caused the water to swirl against the wall of earth, fighting itself as it trickled slowly underground.

Kneeling, Eldric cleared some leaves and debris. He looked at Finn expectantly.

Jumping out of his trance, Finn opened his backpack and drew the scroll, handing it to Eldric. Carefully, he spread it before them, handing the ribbon back to Finn.

Breathing in sharply, Eldric met Finn's eyes for a moment before lowering the parchment into the water, submerging it half an inch. To their amazement, the map slowly populated with bold, glowing tendrils. Soon, the lines settled, and the glow dimmed, revealing a complex map of Rivelle.

Another moment passed as the water stilled. Then, a series of thin black lines appeared. They started in the bottom corner, swirling and crawling over the map, passing the river, and creeping toward the opposite corner. Here, they settled and pooled until a thick, black symbol formed, one that resembled an eye with a wave in the middle. Above the eye, barely visible, was a line of script written in a language that only the royal scribes could decipher. Finn and Eldric took it in at the same time: "Trust the water."

Eldric gasped and almost dropped the map. "It can't be."

"What is that?" Finn asked, barely whispering.

Dimming the glow of the lantern further, Eldric leaned in. "Finn, have you read anything about the Silent Tide in your transcription assignments?"

Finn's chest tightened as his palms clammed up. Pulling the neck of his jacket around his chin, he whispered back, "Yes, but the Crown banished and outlawed them centuries ago! The scribes debunked any modern-day involvement. No one in Rivelle even knows about them anymore!"

"That is their mark, Finn. Members were so dedicated to the dark cause they etched the symbol into their skin with a needle and charcoal. They formed when an old council member learned of Queen Aeloria's sacrifice and bond to the River. They called it blasphemy, but they were jealous, knowing evil could never control such magic. It's why we wiped from existence and memory; the enemy's knowledge of the River bond is its weakness. But, whispers remain, and it seems another has gone rogue."

Finn felt a jolt in his chest as the memory from earlier flashed in his mind. "Alistair. It has to be. The Queen kept the map a secret for a reason, and something told me not to tell him."

"Perhaps the map was warning you. Queen Naida herself used it to convey this message, I believe she has suspected Alistair for some time."

"But what do they want? And where is she? What do we do? Who can we trust?" Finn's speech grew steadily faster as he spiralled into a panic.

Eldric's stomach dropped as he realized what must be done. "Finn," he started, eyes meeting him with a grim darkness rarely seen in the jolly old fisherman, "You have to read the Scribes Rite."

Finn stood and jumped back, staring at Eldric, unable to utter a word as a shiver travelled his spine. "I can't!" He finally spat.

"If you don't, we may never unearth these secrets, and Queen Naida will perish."

"You do it!" Finn said, backing even further.

"I'm retired, Finn. Only the Queen's scribe has any chance of making it work."

"Eldric, they banned the Rite 700 years ago because multiple scribes went mad trying to find the Fragments of Truth!"

"If you recite the incantation while holding the map under the water, we may be able to get a fragment of Naida's spirit, and she can lead us right to her!"

The mention of the Queen's name struck a cord of hope and determination in him. With a shudder, he realized this was the only way.
Hands shaking, he nodded, reaching out to take the map from Eldric. Kneeling again, he slid the map under the water and cringed as the black tendrils began shifting again.

"Okay, repeat after me," Eldric began, leaning in close and whispering the ancient words of the brave scribe who penned the Rite over a millennium ago.

As the final words left Finn's lips, the river responded. Shimmering with a life of its own, a fog appeared above the water, slowly taking form.

They stared, horror sinking in as a figure emerged--not Naida, but the gaunt shadow of a man, his wrists bound in clanking, translucent chains. His eyes looked hollow, his face a mask of endless suffering. Eldric recognized him as the second scribe of Queen Aeloria and the Silent Tide's first sacrifice, one of many in their attempts to steal the magic. His spirit forever bound to the Silent Tide in an oath of silence, The Scribe's Rite now forced him to reveal fragments of his knowledge.

Filled with centuries of pain and defeat, his voice trembled as he spoke in broken words.

"They feed on old blood... old magic. Greedy. Angry. They want... sever the River's bond with Aeloria's bloodline." He lowered his head, breathing hard. "Naida... their final sacrifice. Once she dies... the river runs red with the blood of Rivelle."

The spirit fades as Finn loses concentration.

"Where is she?!" Eldric demands, stepping forward as the scribe sinks into the river, screaming in renewed agony.

His gaze rises once more, and in a final act of defiance against his eternal captors, he musters two more words: "The Shadows."

His groans of pain ring in their ears as the River settles, warring against its reversed current.

"What does he mean she's in the shadows?" Finn whispers, unable to take his eyes off where the scribe descended.

"I don't know, Finn, but I don't think she's in this realm anymore," Eldric said, carefully studying the shifting lines of the map as it slowly dried. "But we're not alone. Queen Naida's spirit is in this map. If we can uncover its secrets, we'll find our Queen."



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