Maria picked up the drawing. It seemed so lifelike; her grandfather had quite a talent when it came to drawing and sculpting and other forms of artistry. His room was chock full of sketches just like these, of landscapes carved from wood, and of paintings of great battle scenes.
“Who is this?” Maria asked.
“Huh?” Gramps turned to see what she was holding. When he saw, he smiled. That’s a genuine smile. His eyes glazed over with a hazy memory. “Oh, that is Matimus. We called him ‘Mat’ for short.”
“This…this is a real person?”
“Well, no, Maria, that is a drawing.” He snapped his fingers inches away from Maria’s eyes, probably seeing if they would dilate and contract. “Are you sure you’re okay? That battle didn’t inflict permanent damage upon you, did it?”
She pushed his hand away and again rolled the eyes he’d been so close to. “I’m fine, Gramps, and you know what I meant. This Matimus was from Dominion?”
“Yes, he was the finest treasurer in all the land,” Gramps answered. “One of my closest friends, as well.”
“Treasurer? I didn’t think Dominion would need a treasurer,” Maria began. Then she thought back to her visit to the town’s ruins, and to the vision she had during the final stage of the Trials of Antenele. “I guess I didn’t think Dominion needed a king or a castle, either. Now that I think of it, I didn’t think they’d need an army.”
Gramps nodded. “Oh, you’d be surprised what we needed—especially being so close to the Dark Forest. The first settlers of Dominion were nothing but sitting ducks to the beasts that inhabited the forest. And as for your father—think of his royal title as no more than a small town mayor. It was only when the Arachnids started attacking that his job became almost too much to handle.”
“But he handled it.” It wasn’t a question.
Gramps nodded. “He did. We all did. If it weren’t for the traitorous ways of Malakai—my own friend, my own kin—we would not be having this conversation. I would probably never have come to live permanently on Earth, and your mother and father would both most likely be alive.” A great sadness tugged at the corners of Gramps’s eyes. He looked longingly down at his sketch. “Matimus would be alive and well, and so would Magni, Charles, Deanna, and so many more of my friends who I lost. No, not friends…family.”
Maria smiled somberly. “But we are having this conversation. We are here, we are alive, we are healthy, and we have the music box.” She patted the bag containing the artifact. “With it and the Jewel of Deception, we will see your family again.”
“So much like your mother,” Gramps said. He placed the sketch of Matimus back in the chest and brought out others. There was a young woman with long, golden hair. She wore a permanent grin on her face. “This is Deanna,” he informed her. “She was a doctor, the town’s finest healer.” Then came another sketch; this one of two people standing side by side, a man and a woman. The man had his arm around the woman’s shoulders, while the woman wrapped hers around the man’s waist. “Magni,” Gramps pointed to the woman. “And this fine lad is Charles. They were young and so in love. I’ve not seen a love as pure as theirs in all of my life.”
Maria’s own sadness came over her. “Did they make it? I mean…did my mom put them in the world in between?”
“As inseparable as they were,” Gramps began, tears glistening on the surface of his eyes, ready to spill down his cheeks, “I’m afraid they were separated when the battle took place. Charles was not part of those of us who guarded the king, but he volunteered to fight—along with many of the other able men in town. He was killed in the sacking of the gate. I witnessed it myself.” Now Gramps swiped at his eyes, stopping the tears before they could fall.
“And Magni?”
“She was put into the world in between, yes,” Gramps said. “What good that did her, or any of the others inside. They were not meant to be in there for as long as they have been. Yes, time does not work the same in the world in between, but that place will certainly take a toll on the fine minds such as those that made Dominion as wonderful as it was.”
“Don’t say that, Gramps,” Maria said. She picked up the sketch of Magni and Charles. “You have to have hope. Without hope, we’re nothing. We’ve failed before we can even start.”
Gramps nodded. “You are right. I never thought I’d see the day where my granddaughter, not even two decades old, would impart such sage wisdom on an old wizard like myself. I am proud of you, Maria; more proud than I can put into words. What you’ve done, what you’ve accomplished in such a short span of time, is amazing.”
“I learned from the best,” she said, smiling.
Gramps couldn’t stop the tears this time. They fell freely and fast. Maria teared up a bit, too.
After a moment, she picked up another sketch and said, “Tell me about her, Gramps.”
“Gladly.” And he went on and on about the citizens of Dominion. He spoke with such a passion that Maria was reminded of the bedtime stories he had told her every night to help her fall asleep or to forget a particularly nasty dream.
There was Kira, a beautiful redheaded woman. Her talent was art. People would come from miles away to have Kira paint their portraits. It is said that even the Light Elves’ king had once commissioned a portrait of the Fall of Rhazdon many years ago. Kira refused payment, but the Light Elves, wonderful people they are, insisted. That payment was enough
