Mfonemana_Uduak

Dear readers, This is the most edited version of Lucy Wickshire on the net for my readers, whose eyes itch at mistakes.

Synopsis: One misty day, the higher realms call for penance; the head of a mother and child requested. The stench of blood carried on for miles, A whiff of pain trailed down pine-covered hills. A mother's head taken on a spike, a child saved despite great battle. A failure to be dreaded for years to come. Banking on time, the realms prepare for when a child becomes a woman. But the impatient child would never reward enemies with even time. A promise; One should resolve a child's grudge before the breast milk is dry. A prayer; May the realms rue the day they failed to kill Lucy Wickshire.
You are about to read the accounts of Lucy Torgenn of Wickshire and the millions of bodies burned as a backdrop to a child's rage.

Lucy Wickshire

A dark carriage rolled into green hills. Though guards lounged and stood around, none stopped the carriage or asked those inside who they were. The carriage rode unobstructed till it arrived at a small cottage, only then did it stop. A figure all of Juhntt's socialites may recognize stepped down from the carriage to meet a maid at the door of the cottage.

"Her Ladyship has been expecting you, please follow me," the maid said politely and walked into the cottage. The person addressed did not seem offended that the maid did not curtsey. She followed her through what seemed to be the biggest cottage she had ever seen in her life. The outside was quite deceiving; it looked like a moderate home on the hills belonging to a small nobility, but the inside was much larger than one could have imagined.

They walked around till they stood before a door. Only then did the maid curtsey towards it before opening.

"Excuse my entrance," she said and opened the door. The visitor walked into a receiving room. The cosy chair by the burnt-out fireplace, light coloured drapes on the wood-trimmed windows let the room seem warm and inviting. A girl with blonde hair sat in the host chair with a book in hand casually browsing through. The visitor walked before her and curtsied.

"Mrs. Mclears, I've heard of you," Lady Vion said, "You finally left Ekrom,"

"The religion naming Juhntt as the root of the broken tree has destabilized the power. The wall between This-side and Other-side has been taken down. People enter and leave as pleased. There is no need for a smuggler," Mrs Mclears answered.

"But there is a need for one in Lir. I knew Lady Wickshire would finally show me her hand," Lady Vion said and put down the book she was reading.

"Her Ladyship hinted that you might be in need of my expertise," Mrs Mclears said.

"A smuggler. I see. It is very fitting," Lady Vion chuckled, "A storm is coming and we need to get out,"

To this, Mrs Mclears suppressed her urge to ask what she meant, but Lady Vion had seen the look flash through her eyes.

"You would think Thraines are all-powerful, but the religion has never made any indication that they are afraid of us. Sometimes I almost feel as though they know something we do not. To think that this storm coming, Thraines need to do the running," she said and Mrs. Mclears shivered. She was starting to worry about her daughter in Juhntt. What if …

"You should worry less about your daughter in Juhntt and more about your sons on Other-side," Lady Vion said and she froze.

"I am committed to doing my part, my lady," Mrs Mclears bowed hurriedly.

"Worry not; it is normal to be scared. But, I do wonder how you can help me, and better what Lady Wickshire wants in return," she asked.

"She only said that Lady Vion may need a smuggler and she may need a friend," Mrs Mclears said and Lady Vion burst out in laughter.

"Yes, what kind of friend leaves her unarmed?" she said, then sighed, "But Mistress Kylna though, what can I get that stiff woman? Now that I think about it, she and Chairwoman Linna have quite an unusual relationship," she said with a chuckle.

"Fine. I will take this deal. But, are you sure you can do so as well?" Lady Vion said.

"Where do you want to smuggle the package?" Mrs. Mclears frowned.

"Wrong Question dear madam," she answered.

"What would you like me to smuggle?" Mrs Mclears asked carefully.

"Lir. The entire Lir," Lady Vion said, her tone without the usual amusement, and Mrs. Mclears paled.

Bk 2: Chapter Four (7)