Manifest

Calypso braided her long, bright blue hair into a servant's braid, carefully weaving each strand, each lock, firmly into place. Incense smoke lingered among the palace bath’s space and Calypso was relaxed beside the water of the temple-like bath. She stared down at her reflection which gazed back at her, dazed and thoughtful.

Calypso hummed to herself as she gathered her clothes in her arms, slipping into the blue dress, its blue sheer sleeves falling just past her fingertips. She adjusted the straps to fit comfortably over her shoulders and touched a barefoot to the tile before slipping it into her tan shoe, and then she did the next, and as she was on her feet she looked over the large expanse of indoor water. A pile of her kitchen clothing sat in its own pile off to the right of her on the floor a ways away, but the sound of footsteps had Calypso’s attention more.

Just then she heard the giggling of a few girls from across the bath, and there were three girls stood at the bath’s opening on its stairs, eagerly removing their clothes to enjoy the water. It was likely that they were of some type of nobility, as each head of hair had been braided perfectly, not a single strand out of place, and the clothes they were stripping out of also appeared to be quite expensive. The girls even had jewelry that dangled from their ears and wrists, which always got the best of Calypso’s jealousy. The three girls giggled, but Calypso then managed to garner a bit of their attention, and the giggles turned into hushed whispers.

Calypso blushed, and hurried to pick up her worn kitchen clothes, before she made her way out into one of the main corridors of the palace. As she reached the doorway to the main hall, Calypso could feel a sharp pain growing in her head. She walked through the halls, the sunlight flooding into the wide spaces, and she struggled to see through the harsh light. On her way to the servant’s quarters she passed many doors, some leading to guards quarters, and others leading to the guest chambers for families of high nobility.

Calypso made it past the kitchens, a marker that the servant’s quarters were close by, and the aroma of a delicious dinner spilled out from the doors to the kitchen. Calypso could hear her adoptive mother, Mimsy, making a ruckus and billowing out orders to the kitchen staff, which caused Calypso to chuckle lightly, before being overwhelmed with the aching pain in her head.

Suddenly she was being plagued with flashing images in her mind’s eye.

Pressing a hand to her temple, she braced herself for another vision. Calypso attempted to focus, but the images were too fast, too fleeting, and she could hardly gather snippets of what the vision was trying to tell her. She saw several beings in the sky, seemingly hovering in the air, and they were illuminated with different colored lights. Some of the figures were clashing, others lingered, until two opposing figures stepped forward, preparing to face off once and for all. . .

The vision ended, and Calypso’s head throbbed as she maneuvered the halls of the servant’s quarters to find her small room with an old dresser, a desk, and her bed, where she proceeded to lay as she struggled to come out of the vision induced haze. As she nestled into her bed for an afternoon nap, Calypso tossed and turned, unable to ignore the feeling that she was being watched.

She lifted her head from her pillow and peered around the room. She stared at the door, trying to make out if it was open, but she was certain after a moment that it was perfectly shut. A strange coldness seemed to fill the air of her room. When she sat up to investigate further, she noticed a strange darkness that lingered in the corner of her room. When she turned her attention to it, startled, it moved, and the shadow swiftly slithered and slinked about the ceiling before disappearing through the crack at the top of her bedroom door.

Her heart pounded in her chest. She’d never seen such a thing before. Could it have been a trick of the light, or her imagination? It could have been that the stress of work and her recent visions were getting to her, but that wouldn’t explain just how vivid the shadow appeared to be, as if it had a life of its own.

Taking in a deep breath, she rose up from her bed, determined to move past the strange incident. She had responsibilities, duties to attend to, and she didn’t have time to spend chasing around after shadows that could just be all in her head. Calypso sighed, kicking her legs over the edge of the bed. Her gaze trailed over to the old oil lamp that sat on her desk in all of its used, practically ancient glory. Calypso got up onto her feet and went to the desk, admiring the lamp, which had accompanied her in her arrival to the palace steps as an infant.

Tracing a forefinger along the cool metal of the lamp, Calypso pondered its significance to her, or perhaps her birth parents, before shunning the contemplations away, burying them deep down. She picked up the lamp and held it with intent, tracing the many strange engraved symbols amd patterns, wondering if they were simply decorative, or if they held any deeper meanings.

A sudden knock at her bedroom door startled her, and Calypso gently set the lamp back down in its designated space on her desk. “Calypso are you in there?” It was Mimsy, her adoptive mother, whose voice came out stern, though not unkind.

“Yes, Mimsy, just one moment,” Calypso replied, tracing the lamp one last time, and she took in a deep breath, composing herself, before opening the door.

Mimsy stood in the doorway, her arms crossed, with a cross expression plastered on her face. “There you are,” she said, her voice softening slightly. “I was beginning to think you’d drowned in that bath.”

"No, Mimsy, of course not. I had another weird headache, that’s all. I needed to lay down,” Calypso explained.

Mimsy raised a concerned eyebrow, her arms still crossed, and her short stature made her appear like that of a fairy. Her dark brown hair was rustled up into a messy bun, and her aging face appeared a bit wrinkled and tired. “I know you were supposed to be resting today, but the king is asking for all hands on deck tonight, what with the arrival of surprise guests and all.”

Calypso stared blankly, confused, back at Mimsy, who swatted the girl with a partially damp dishcloth, “What was that for? Oh, Mimsy, you know I dislike politics.”

“Regardless, you could at the very least help prepare the king’s table. Now then, I’m back to the kitchens to prepare the last course. Come along,” Mimsy urged Calypso, who followed in her footsteps.

When Calypso entered the kitchen, she grabbed a few dishes of food to carry out to the great hall, where the feast for the evening’s surprise guests would be held. When she made her way through the corridor that led directly to the great hall, she was met with a tense and quiet situation at the king’s table. She noticed that the newly crowned King Caspian was at the far end as per usual, and to his left sat another young man with a dark contrast.

The man to the left of Caspian appeared to be close to him in age, and he was, admittedly handsome, with long, black hair that fell over his left eye. The two seemed to be having a tense conversation, and it wasn’t often that Calypso eavesdropped while she served nobility, however she couldn’t help but pick up on some sense of competition between the two.

“Yes, well Caspian, I’m certain he’ll be out of his chambers any moment now,” said the young man, whose eyes glistened a ruby red shade, which Calypso noted instantly.

Calypso was working now, taking plates from other servants and preparing them amongst the huge variety of courses, drinks and desserts that was now accumulating. She organized and moved different plates of food and pieces of silverware, and once she was finished she headed for the kitchen, once again empty handed. As she passed by the dark haired young man they locked eyes, and he got to his feet, approaching Calypso with confidence. “Well, now, who are you?” He asked, taking Calypso’s hand in between the palms of his hands.

“I would greatly appreciate it, Eli, if you’d be so kind as to not harass the palace servants who are working so graciously to supply us with such a wonderful feast,” said King Caspian, whose blonde hair was disheveled and unkempt. King Caspian, once a young prince who studied hard to follow in his father’s footsteps, was looking more like his father every single day, Calypso thought to herself.

The young man, Eli, who was still clutching Calypso’s hand, waved a hand to dismiss King Caspian’s remark, and pulled Calypso in close to him before leaning in to speak. “What do you say we take things back to my chambers tonight, fairy lady?” He asked her.

Calypso was stunned, to say the least, and shocked to say any more than that, by the confidence and attitude of the man. Out of the corner of her eye, Calypso could see King Caspian heading towards the two. Caspian approached, taking great strides, and ushered Calypso out of Eli’s grip. “Apologies, my lady, for my guest. Eli has been a bit of a flirt for, well, the several hours that I’ve known him. Feel free to pay him no mind,” King Caspian said. His eyes were a mesmerizing shade of green, and his blonde hair was even messier up close. The crown on top of his head did little to alleviate Calypso’s anxiety where she stood.

Caspian hadn’t spoken to her since they were young teenagers, likely plagued by the responsibilities that royalty brought. Calypso often wondered if he had forgotten the nights they had shared at the horses stables, or the hours the two spent hid away in the kitchens goofing off, avoiding any duties they’d been given. Caspian likely had much more memorable friends, friends of royalty or high nobility and wealth, and surrounding himself with more of those people seemed to come with his position as a then prince, and as a now king.

“Your Highness,” Calypso said with a servant’s bow, her braid loosening, and in an instant it came undone. Calypso paid no mind to her loosened braid and locked eyes once more with King Caspian. “I apologize for being a distraction. You must’ve been busy, discussing some type of political situation, I’m sure, so I’ll return to the kitchen to—”

“Nonsense, a beautiful lady such as yourself is a palace servant?” Eli asked.

“Well, she was actively assisting in preparing the feast before you interrupted her, my friend,” King Caspian informed him.

Eli’s red eyes darted around frantically before his gaze fixed on Calypso. “I’m a simple man, who thoroughly enjoys the company of beautiful women,” Eli stated, taking no fault. “I was especially enthralled by that lovely blue hair you’ve got, my lady.”

“Thank you,” Calypso said. Normally her blue hair made her feel like an outcast, like someone who stuck out for the wrong reasons. Now she was being given compliments and being pursued by a strange noble guest, who was at the king's side, as well.

“Tell me, I must know if you take after your father or your mother, in regards to physical resemblances that is,” Eli wondered aloud.

Calypso hesitated, a wave of sadness washing over her. "I... I don't know," she admitted softly. "I was left on the palace steps as a baby. Mimsy, the head cook, took me in."

A flicker of surprise crossed Eli's face, quickly replaced by a look of intrigue. "An orphan, with such unusual hair? Fascinating," he murmured, a sly smile playing on his lips. "Perhaps there's more to you than meets the eye, my dear."

Before Calypso could respond, King Caspian stepped forward, a protective glint in his eyes. "That's enough, Eli," he said firmly. "Calypso is a valued member of the palace staff, not a subject for your idle amusement."

Eli raised his hands in mock surrender. "My apologies, Your Highness. I meant no offense." He turned back to Calypso, a hint of challenge in his voice. "But I do hope we'll have the chance to speak again, under more... favorable circumstances."