Aella 5 – Riddle, Rhyme and Prophecy,     The moon hung in the sky like a silver ball thrown into the air by a careless child. The stars shone around it, bright droplets of light splashed across the night’s sky.     Gazing up at the moon and stars brought the strangest feeling of timelessness on a night like this; like all eternity meant as much as a second. As if a moment could last forever.     Aella didn’t stop to admire the sky though; she headed straight for her cave to dry herself. Another day had passed, another night had come, and another day would follow on after that. That was her prison. She was trapped in the steady passage of day and night, made helpless by the simple spinning of the planet as it travelled through endless space.     After drying herself and eating, Aella stood in silence in the candlelit cave. The night was all but silent. The wind was still. She knew what she wanted to do that night; she was just unsure whether it was a good idea. She struggled with herself internally for seemingly endless minutes. At last in recognition of her fate she retrieved her notebook from the crate and found somewhere to sit. She then flicked it open to the first page.     For less than a moment Aella paused with the small book in her hands. Her hair trailed down her back, her hands shook slightly as if they understood what she was about to do, in her eyes was more sadness and pain than any girl so young should ever know. Then the moment was over and she cast her eyes over the carefully handwritten words.     It still hurt her to read this. It still reminded her too much of the past, of the time before her curse, of her mother. She had gathered all she knew about this together, stretched her memory to scrape together every possible scrap of information, and it hurt. Not physically hurt, but hurt nonetheless. When she read the words contained in that plain little notebook she faced an emotional whirlwind, she faced sadness for what she had lost, joy when she recalled what she once had, loneliness when she considered what she had now. Everything she felt every moment of every day, all that desperation, all that loneliness, was magnified when she read this.     The first page was the worst. The words there were to words of her mother. She could still remember when her mother had said this; remember it so vividly that every detail was clear as crystal. As her eyes scanned those words she could hear her mother’s voice, kind and patient as it told her the most important thing it ever had:     Ã¢â‚¬Å“It is known from ancient times that there is a treasure, and it holds power. What it is or why it came to be are lost to the sands of time. But this much remains: There is a treasure, it has power, and we must protect it.”     The words echoed around Aella’s heart, filling her with emotions and memories. At the same time it brought both tears to her eyes and a smile to her lips. She held back the tears defiantly. The smile wouldn’t go away no matter how hard she tried to make it.     The girl read the words again and again, each one leaving an imprint on her heart.     Sands of time sounded appropriate to her. In what experience she had time did seem very much like sand. Time slipped away through her fingers like sand at least.     But she was getting distracted, Aella read through the book - skipping the second page – each word holding importance to her, but none as much as those on the first page. Once she was finished she turned to the third page and read onwards from there until she was done again.     Finally, she flicked through to the second page; it was time to face the most important piece of information of all.     Ã¢â‚¬Å“I first heard it from my mother, just before… no, I don’t think of that. After that I heard it again from… no, I don’t think of that either. The new moon may hold its horrors but I needn’t dwell on them now.     But I’ve not just heard this, I’ve read it. I don’t know wherever it originates from. In fact I don’t think anyone knows, but sometime, centuries ago someone wrote it down, sort of. The carving is underwater, on a relatively smooth area of cliff face not far from here.     Many times I have spent all day just reading those words; I know them off by heart by now. They taunt me and comfort me, confuse me and intrigue me. I know the words off by heart, but not their meaning. All I know are the words, these words:     Ancient treasure beneath the sea,     Resting where it's dreamed to be,     Tides shall tell its secret,     A whirlwind will seek it out,     The oceans gift disguised,     Allows those who search to find,     The time shall come,     Then all shall see,     The girl holds the key,     The girl is the key.     It is a riddle. It is a rhyme. It is a prophecy. I gaze for a moment at the key that hangs around my wrist before I run the words through my head again.” Aella More stories by me at Rhiannon's Stories. Rhiannon Watson. Concepts, characters, and situations copyright © 2006 reserved by Rhiannon Rose Watson. The right of Rhiannon Rose Watson to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the UK Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved.

A touching chapter while being no less mysterious. I'm afraid to find out what happened to her mother, as well as whatever the second time she heard the prophecy. Still, the memories of her mother are obviously a comfort to a lonely and brave girl.

I look forward to finding the secret to her isolation, as well as what she protects... and from what she's protecting it.