Tag Archives: Jasmine

Jasmine Snippet #49

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On-going notes for “The Story of Jasmine”:

Ahearn judged it to be well after midnight by the time he reached his destination, the temple the Guardians had talked about. All during his ride, the moon shone brightly and illuminated the landscape for far distances. But after his arrival to the white mountain, the clouds became shrouded in a thick bank of clouds.

The moon was still hidden when he finally arrived in the area of the temple. He dismounted. With reins in hand, he slowly lead the rest of the way to the buildings in ruin. Among the ruins, he passed many stone statues. It seemed to him they resembled soldiers, but not ancient ones. These statues became more numerous when he entered the temple grounds.

The moon came out as Ahearn was examining one such face. The sudden illumination accentuated the look of astonishment frozen upon the stone faces. The startling effect unnerved him. This had been a recent occurance.

He knew this because he recognized one of the statues to have been a particularly gruesome foe. “One of Bardulf’s men, from the look of it.” He thought grimly. Once before, he had encountered something like this, and recently. A stone statue of a woman stood in front of the cave opening in the grotto. Surely, this could not be coincidence.

To make more sense of the scene, Ahearn left his horse to walk around each figure and examined the the foot tracks that once belonged to them. The surprised gaze of each statue was turned upward to a place near the top of the building. He was about to approach what looked like the main temple, when a voice halted him.

© 2018 DARLENE

Jasmine Snippet #48

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The on-going notes for the Story of Jasmine continue:

A pencil sketch of Jasmine created in 1980

Jasmine made a slow ascent to the ancient ruins of the temple on the mountain known as The Great White Throne. Although she was tired, with each step, she felt the weight of her past drop away. Mulling over all the confusing things the Guardians told her during their journey within the underground passage, she recognized one truth. She could never go back. She could not retrace her steps. There was no returning to life as a princess in her father’s castle.

There was no where to go but onward, into the unknown. The moment she realized this became the moment she took her life into her own hands. This is when the princess ceased to be a princess and became Jasmine. Even though her pampered life had never prepared her to make decisions for herself, she somehow felt wiser.

Her rumination was interrupted by something out of the ordinary Jasmine thought she heard. She stopped in her tracks and craned her ears. What in the wind was whispering a warning? She heard the gurgling of a small stream nearby and left the path to head for it. The Guardians told her water diminished the ring’s effect upon her. She dunked her hand in the stream’s cold water to dilute its potency. As the ring lost its gleam, Jasmine sensed danger.

For a long while, under cover, she stood perfectly still and quiet before the stream. As she waited, from between the trees, she studied the outlines of the walls that crowned the next rise not far from where she stood. As the last light of the setting sun receded into shadow, Jasmine watched the foliage sway in the gentle evening breeze. The rising moon illuminated the ruins of a once columned structure.

Though she had never been here before, everything seemed somehow familiar. Then it hit her. Could this be the place Ermengarde described in the stories she told? Ever since she was little, her foster guardian, Ermengarde, had captivated her with stories of the wondrous Order of the White Flower who lived in a White Temple on a White mountain. Her fantastic stories always had memorable descriptions, down to the smallest detail. If it truly was this place, then she knew everything there was to know about the Temple, even its secret passages. If real, those were happier days. Even though Ermengarde had always described it as a safe haven, what was left was in ruins.

And it wasn’t safe. There, in the cold light, she detected some movement and saw a figure of a man. But she was too far away to note any more detail. To move in for a closer look, she cautiously stepped in the shallow stream, which came up to her ankles and waded against the current. She knew the stream would led her somewhere above the temple. Taking this route did not pose a risk. Each step she took was sure-footed and confident, as if she had moved in procession in this very stream many, many times before, in unison with her beautiful story sisters under the light of the rising moon.

Eventually, her vantage point became such that she noted several men hiding among the broken pillars. Their complete attention was directed towards the pathway. She would never have seen them had she taken the trail. They appeared to be soldiers. At least they wore the clothing of Bardulf’s men. Had she arrived from the pathway, they definitely would have surprised her and taken her captive.

Truly amazed at how well Ermengarde prepared her for this moment, Jasmine mused to herself, “Well, Ermama, it must be time to find out if a usable secret passage actually does exist where you described it. And if it does, I will step into your tale.”

© 2018 DARLENE

Jasmine Snippet #42

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“The Story of Jasmine” Notes Continue:

Suddenly, the princess Flavia of UR’s disappearance made complete sense. She could very well be a prisoner within this cave. Recalling the disturbed vines, it then occurred to Ahearn he was not the only one on the trail of the princess. Suddenly, a rash of questions bombarded his mind. Who had come before him? How long ago? What did they discover? Did they find her? What will he find? What will he encounter?

Although he yearned to rush ahead, he returned to the grotto above. He took special care to tend to his horse. He moved his horse to a small spring, so it would not thirst and also took this opportunity to feed the beast. There was no telling where the cave would lead him, or for how long he would be gone.

Ahearn cared well for his steed. They were good together. They had an understanding. This was partially why Ahearn was lauded  in his country as the Lord of Horses. The knot he tied was a special one, made in such a way the animal could free itself if it should become necessary. He removed the saddle, and placed it on a low branch off the ground. Holding the animal’s great head gently, Ahearn looked into its dark dewey eyes. He paused to rest his forehead against the front of it’s muzzle. The animal knew the significance of this action and acknowledged him with a whinny and a toss of the head.

Satisfied, Ahearn quickly packed some supplies to carry with him and disappeared into the mouth of the cavern.

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I should probably think of a name for Ahearn’s horse.

© 2018 DARLENE

Jasmine Snippet #40

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Notes for “The Story of Jasmine” continue:

The northern trek eventually led Ahearn into an area within the forest where there was a small grotto. At the grotto, he saw a strange and unexpected sight. From the looming darkness, it looked like there were thousands of glistening stars. He paused for a moment to make sense of what he was seeing. Moving closer, the stars became flowers. Small, delicate white flowers blossoming everywhere in this space.

Moving into the grotto, he noticed a greater thickness of flowers. Upon closer inspection, he discovered these bloom clusters enveloped a stone statue of a woman. He thought perhaps she was the guardian of this grotto until he studied the face. The workmanship was too real for a statue to be hidden in the forest. He quickly concluded it was a work of witchery. A woman had been turned to stone.

The statue was a young woman, who looked remarkably like the Princess of UR. If he hadn’t made a habit of studying faces, he might have mistook the statue for the princess. He logically concluded this must be her mother. He mused. “No wonder the Queen was never seen again after the birth of her daughter. There’s something foul to this mystery. Why was the woman turned to stone?”

Ahearn regarded the stance of the figure. It looked almost as if she had been protecting something behind her. Moving past the figure, he noticed many flower blooms had been disturbed. Many plants had been torn away and stomped upon. Someone had been here before him. The damage seemed to be recent. Parting the plants, he noticed a tunnel made of the living roots of trees, which led him to the entrance of a subterranean cave.

© 2018 DARLENE

 

Jasmine Snippet #38

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Notes from “The Story of Jasmine” continue:

To discover what fate befell the Princess of UR, there was nothing left for Ahearn to do but to trace the east-west main road, the supposed route she had taken from UR’s Eiodel Castle. He was determined to discover the story of her abduction in the marks left on the ground. And found them he did.

He clearly found significant signs in a place where a grove of trees sprung up in the middle of a meadow. It was an attractive stopping point, an oasis in the prairie lands where travelers and their animals could rest and renew themselves. It was an ideal spot, right before the meadow lands become a rocky, hilly landscape.

There, he discovered recent signs of battle The battle marks proved there was a struggle, and likely an abduction. Not only that, nearby, there were recent marked graves probably made by some passing URians, for the noble fallen. Ahearn mused, “no traveler  would want such a pleasant spot to be sullied by the sight and smell of stinking bodies.”

When he found a pink ribbon snared on the branches of a tree, he sighed. She had made it this far and did not die. If she had, there would be plenty of proof of it. He found himself glad she was alive. His promise to her father could be fulfilled. If there was a deeper reason as to why he was glad she was still alive, he didn’t entertain the thought.

© 2018 DARLENE

Jasmine Snippet #36

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Notes for “The Story of Jasmine” continue:

It took Rogan two days to reach The Great White Throne. The unearthly glow served as a beacon to guide him. As he neared the ruins, he passed many stone statues. The thought occurred to him that these statues appeared to be too new to be gracing an ancient temple. But he wasted no more thoughts pondering this anomaly.

When his horse finally reached the periphery of the temple, Rogan was amazed to find the entire area littered with the same type of statuary. All were frozen in various gestures of surprise and fear. Then, for the first time Rogan became concerned. They looked like soldiers.

Could these statues once have been men … perhaps, maybe Bardulf’s men? This, he was about to find out.

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*I need to figure out just how far away the mountain shrine is to the village. I’m leaning towards one half a day’s walk for Jasmine, but much faster on a horse.

© 2018 DARLENE

Jasmine Snippet #35

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The “Story of Jasmine” notes continue:

Ieithoedd

The midday shadows began to lengthen toward evening as the dwarf Glynn Oakenshield sharpened his weapon. The dwarf had not yet made camp as there were several more hours of day left, yet he could not travel with a dull battle axe.* As he scraped away the metal burr of the blade, he sensed some movement a little ways off behind him. Now distracted, Glynn grabbed his half-honed weapon and stalked toward the sound.

Traveling on higher ground, above the main road, his vantage point and concealment was excellent. “What’s this?” He said to himself, scratching his chin through his thick reddish beard.

“Must be a woman.” He thought as he watched the progress of a willowy figure cloaked in grey. Disgust overcame him as he recalled a new independent attitude held by many young lasses. As he watched her regal stride, he judged this wench to be very foolish to travel alone without an escort of several armed men.

He wondered, “Could she be unaware that highway men and robbers frequent this road?” Then he remembered the two ruffians who worked the bridge up yonder. He sighed, shaking his head. Those unsavory men at the bridge were scum indeed — and he himself would not want to further dull the edge of his blade on them. That reminded him to take out his whet stone and finish what he started.

“That poor wench has nothing of value they could want,” mused Glynn, “save perhaps her virginity.” They will probably make sport of her first before they killed her.

“Such is stupidity’s reward.” He muttered out loud and hurried his task. He wanted to be well out of earshot of the girl’s inevitable screams.

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Obviously this snippet happens right before Glynn and Jasmine meet.

*The name of Glynn’s battle-axe is Ieithoedd.

Jasmine Snippet #34

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Notes from “The Story of Jasmine” continue:

Rogan’s traveling companion was in an exceedingly bad humor when they got to the room, “We are lost! My errand will be left unfulfilled!” She briskly paced around the room, cursing and ranting, “Bardulf seems like a cruel master. He will not help us.”

“He may not help us,”Rogan answered, lighting an oil lamp. The small flame was reflected in the maiden’s dark eyes.

Still in a foul mood, she replied with contempt, “If you beg favors from a thief as a diplomat, you are a great fool and no soldier. Oh, if I could be freed of these binding clothes and back into my armor, I shall feel much better. I feel naked without my sword at my side.”

The woman continued to pace the floor, like a caged animal and pulled at her chemise. Although being in that frock made her appear weak, Rogan knew that was deceiving. She could master a sword and a horse as well as he. She was a first rate Armildian battle maiden sent on a diplomatic mission for her country. Since a maiden in armor would create too much unwanted attention in this land, Rogan was dispatched to serve as her spokesman while the battle-maiden assumed a more demure posture. Rogan was, however, amused by the frustration she displayed for her uncustomary style of dress.

“That is strange indeed.” Remarked the battle-maiden as she opened the shutters. Although the sun had already set, she noticed a strange dull glow radiating from The Great White Throne mountain. “A glow does emanate from the mountain. Do you suppose the rumors are true? Could there be a priestess with power enough to make this glow? Do you suppose she has power enough to drive away Bardulf’s soldiers?”

They decided Rogan would go to the mountain temple to discover the truth of the matter. If there was such a maiden, he would discover her fate. If she was still there, and victorious over the soldiers who sought to claim her, he would endeavor to ask for her advice and assistance. Perhaps her magic was strong enough to help them. So as not to rouse suspicion, the battle-maiden agreed to stay behind.

But she would use that time wisely.

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This version of the inn room scene with Thorne and Rogan is slightly different from another one I wrote. In the other version, Rogan appears to have decided to check out The Great White Throne himself. If this is the case, the trip would appear to be shorter than a 2 days journey from the inn.

There is still another version where, at the inn, Glynn strikes up a conversation with Rogan who tells him some news which prompts Glynn to get up and leave. But Rogan decides to accompany Glynn on his journey to The Great White Throne.

© 2018 DARLENE

Jasmine Snippet #32

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The notes from “The Story of Jasmine” continue:

Watching her form disappear in the distance, Glynn does not allow himself to feel remorse at this abrupt parting. He conceals the booty in his pack and enters the inn. Several hours later finds him laughing and enjoying the company of many people — dwarves and men alike. Glynn makes the acquaintance of a red-haired man who informs him that Oxted has had some unusual visitors.

“Soldiers from the south,” he says, “looking for a maiden I’m told.” After another swallow, the stranger continues, “Though only God knows what she’d be doing on the white mountain. People here seem to be scared of it.”

“Fool’s Hope?” Glynn looks up from his drink, “What did you say?”

“There’s an old temple that rests in the seat of the Great White Throne and these soldiers expect to find a maiden hiding there. But they’ve also looked all over Oxted asking if anyone has seen her. This maiden seems to be of particular interest to their leader, one Bardulf-Thaatur. Have you heard of him?”

Glynn scratches his nose in thought, “I heard rumors about an ambitious man whose been gaining power and provinces surrounding the country of UR. Through magic and a network of spies he learns the weaknesses of the ruling families whose lands he wants to acquire. He’s managed to conquer much territory from the inside out. It’s odd for him to use soldiers openly.”

“Maybe not so odd,” the stranger replies, “do you not know he’s made a successful bid against UR? They say he’s captured both the King and the princess. UR’s is as good as his when he marries her. “

“Yes, The King of UR’s greatest weakness is his daughter.”

“To legitimize UR as his, the marriage would have to be a large, royal public affair. So I wonder, why are his soldiers seeking this other girl in Oxted — maybe he likes blondes dressed in white?”

Instinctively, Glynn’s hand finds his weapon. The red-haired stranger reacts in equal measure, by pulling a knife of his own. Glynn rests his hand. “Calm down, friend. The fight is not with you,” Glynn replies gravely, “it’s that just today I brought a girl — a comely blonde — to Oxted. Her sole wish was to go to the old temple on that mountain. She made it seem like it was her destiny.”

Glynn’s eyes widen as he recalls the prophecy he had recently recited to Jasmine, “…in the shrine where the white rocks rise, this is where your destiny lies…” He quickly drains the rest of his drink and gets up to leave.

“I must go!” Glynn mumbles, making his way to the door. Even if she wan’t the one they were looking for, she would surely be snatched up as a possibility. Glynn hopes Jasmine’s progress up the mountain has been slow and cumbersome. Maybe they have not yet found her, but if they have…

“Wait,” the stranger follows, saying “There were seven soldiers. And I can help you even the odds… and by the way, my name is Rogan.”

© 2018 DARLENE

Jasmine Snippet #31

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The notes from “The Story of Jasmine” continue:

The Journey north wasn’t as trying as Glynn had anticipated. The girl who called herself Jasmine was quick in following his example, and they made it to the door of Oxted’s only inn by late afternoon. By this time, Glynn had warmed up to her and began to enjoy her company. He looked forward to her joining him for a drink and a hot meal. Uncharacteristically, they had the means to pay and he felt rich and generous.

But to his disappointment, he discovered Jasmine’s only interest was in getting closer to the mountain. Slightly agitated, he points the way just up the road. He tells her that the climb will take her well into the evening and there will be no food when she gets there. He offers to accompany her the very next morning after getting rested.

As she hands him the bundle of coins and valuables they had collected the day before, the black ring on her finger gleams. She is not deterred. Silently, she wraps her blood-stained cloak around her body and heads in the direction of the mountain shrine.

© 2018 DARLENE