Virginia walked into the main library of Mason High. For such a small town, this school held a decent-sized sanctuary for its literature. It was composed of two stories. Stationed on either side of the main entrance was a staircase leading up to the second story, which horseshoed the room and overlooked the lobby below. Both floors had aisles full of bookcases stuffed with volumes and volumes of books. Virginia walked up to the head librarian's desk in the center of the room. Only a single lady was currently at her station, typing on her computer.
"Excuse me?" said Virginia softly.
The librarian looked up and replied with an even softer voice. "Yes, how may I help you?"
Virginia glanced around the room for a quick second at all the countless bookshelves. Surely, there has got to be some form of government document here. "Yes, I'm looking for a book of some kind that could give me maps and locations of this area of the mountains dating back to the late 1800s."
The librarian's eyes got big, and she puffed up her cheeks in bewilderment. "Well, now. Let me see."
She began typing on her computer again, searching all options. "What is this for exactly? A school project, perhaps?"
"More of a personal project, actually. I just moved here recently."
"Oh, I see."
The librarian stopped typing and stared at her screen. "It says here that we have a few options. First, we have an atlas that dates back to the early 1900s. We have a few copies of old newspapers on the library's website that date back as early as the mid-1800s. There is a short read called The Town of Mason written by an early journalist who thought the town should be remembered. We also have records of who owned what land as far back as the early 1800s. Which one would you like to look at?"
"All of them, please."
"All of them?"
The librarian stood from her desk and walked towards the left staircase at the main entrance. "Follow me, please."
Virginia followed the woman up the stairs. The librarian grabbed a few books off the bookshelves and handed them to Virginia. They then walked downstairs, where the librarian escorted Virginia to a computer desk by a large window at the far end of the room. She logged Virginia into the computer and pulled up the newspaper articles written by a press known as The Cold Creek Valley Newspaper.
"Here you go," said the librarian. "I'll leave you to your homework. I hope that your project turns out well."
The librarian walked back to her desk and resumed her work.
Virginia stared back and forth at the computer screen and the small stack of books to her left. "Yeah, I hope so, too."
She picked up her first book, The Town of Mason, and began reading.
Hours had passed, and Virginia had burned herself out of energy on an enormous amount of material. She found many connections—she saw the local newspaper's name appear more than once in The Town of Mason—but nothing in any piece of literature she studied even mentioned the name Alaythia. To her amazement, she found Jeffery Cohen, father of Rose Annemarie Cohen, in the documents of land ownership in the late 19th century. Still, nothing spoke about anyone owning a piece of land known as Alaythia.
She decided to research it for herself online. She typed in the search bar countless word phrases that she thought might help: Alaythia, Where Can I find Alaythia?; Directions to Alaythia from my Current Location; Who owns land called Alaythia?; Alaythia, TN.With all the searching she did, there was nothing she could do to locate this small property that was the romantic getaway for Rose Cohen and Burning Eagle.
She opened her backpack and gently pulled out the diary. Looking around to make sure no one was watching, she held the book in her lap and flipped it to where she had last left off.
I was unsure if this was real or not—if it was, I did not want to wake up!
I was free! Rescued! Another had me in his arms. Judging by his countenance, I believed he was not there to harm me. Through the mask of war paint coating his face, I could see the gentle side of my protector.
We flew for at least half an hour before landing at the edge of a forest. Still holding me in his arms, the warrior carried me deep into the heart of the woods.
I looked into the Indian's eyes and asked him who he was. He replied, "My name is Burning Eagle. I am here to protect you." He kept addressing me off and on as 'Your Highness' and 'Princess' and even 'My Princess.' I will admit, it was very frustrating to be addressed like this because he would not tell me why he called me these. He only said that I was of royal blood, and it was only proper to address me as such. This was all that he would tell me for the time being, which made it all the more frustrating—it is hard to accept that you are part of a royal family without being told who that family is. However, I will be honest with you, 'My Princess' was my favorite.
My mind could not escape the curious wings on his back. I asked him again if he was an angel. "I told you once already," he said. "I am not an angel. Oralmuti, long live his Kingdom, has given my tribe and me the wings of his people. We are a special group of elite warriors within his Kingdom."
Oh, how that made no sense at first. His reply only seemed to come up with more questions. Putting the first aside for the moment, I asked him who this one was, whom he calls Oralmuti. He told me that Oralmuti is the creator of Alaythia, known by a different name on Earth. He explained that Oralmuti, through his People of Amyah, placed his spirit upon him and all of the men and women of his tribe, which produced the wings upon his back, the light within his stomach, and the fire that would engulf him when he fought. He said that if it were not for the spirit of Oralmuti flowing and resting upon his tribe and him, the darkness would have overtaken his tribe.
I had no idea what he was talking about, but I was soon to find out.
The trees around us began to gather in a row on either side of us, forming a corridor that stretched deep into the darkness of the forest. I could not see anything. Yet, the smell of pine was strong, and the touch of a cold breeze kissed my cheek.
There soon appeared a light at the end of our trail. It was small and orange. We came up to where the light hung. It was a single lantern posted above the architecture of a Roman archway hewn of ancient rock. Underneath the lantern etched into the chief cornerstone were letters and words of another language.
The Indian sat me down and walked over to the stone arch. He took a long wooden rod and placed it into the flame of the top lantern at the head of the archway. Bringing it down, he lit two more lanterns mounted on either side of the archway.
Suddenly, a bright light appeared from within the arch's opening, followed by a burst of fire. The whole space of the archway was set aflame. The flame slowly turned into a bright light that consumed the entire entryway of the arch. The words upon the sign above the stone arch began to light up in a bursting flame.
The Indian came back for me. Picking me up in his arms again, he walked towards the arch. I asked him what he was about to do, but he just said, "Trust me, Your Highness." So, I did.
He carried me through the opening and into another world I never knew existed nor saw coming—a world that completely changed my life, a world called Alaythia.
Virginia shot a perplexed look at the diary in her hands. What in the world is this?! Alaythia is a magical land—a fairy tale?! Is this a joke? Where's the reality? Enough poetry!
"Honey?" came a soft voice. "Honey?"
Virginia looked up and saw the head librarian standing in front of her desk. "Honey, I'm afraid that it's time to go."