As Colors Coalesce

By Kristyn Van Cleave

Saryn Nightingblade is a princess, but she does not want to be. A life of staying put in a palace and looking pretty is not exactly how she wants to spend the rest of her life. And when she has to choose a royal husband, that is the last straw. Why would she ever want to be tied to a man? She wishes to explore the world.

But when a spaceship crash lands on her planet, Saryn learns there is much more than the world that can be explored. Out from the wreckage crawls Hoartunim Dreambreath, a man who claims he is from a different planet and practices a different form of magic than Saryn’s. And he is on a mission to bring the worlds together.

Learning about his master plan and admiring his magic that is a different color than her own, Saryn takes a liking to Hoartunim and wishes to follow him through the universe on his adventures. But will she leave behind a man she is engaged to and her princess duties to follow her dreams?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Nov 30, 2020
• ISBN: 9781716424977

Book preview

beauty?"

Prologue

I scoot my created chair closer to Matthew, who is holding the journal open for us both to see.  I’m reading?  Aloud? I say hesitantly.

I think that would be the right way to do it, don’t you? he says, looking at me with encouraging hazel eyes that reflect the bright purple light emitted by the anti-scrying ring.

Yeah.  Okay.

It hasn’t been long since I arrived at Matthew’s place, after I killed my own mother (it doesn’t sound as bad with the context surrounding it) and watched Shawn teleport away, on a mission to do who knows what in order to stop my mother’s premonitions from coming true.  I put a finger to the first line on the second page of my mother’s journal, the page after the first one, which summoned both of my parents’ spirits so that they could attempt to begin to explain to me what was to come in the years ahead.  This journal was supposedly written by my mother so that all could be explained, and I could prepare for those coming years.  Focusing on that page, I begin to read aloud.

"Dear Eylene,

I am a visionary person.  I have always felt that pictures and images related to me on a closer level than simply listening or reading the words a person has to say…"

I stop for a moment, unsure of what this has to do with me or my protection.

Go on, Matthew whispers.

So, in the thought that you may be much like your mother (as you already are at four years old), I have decided to show you my life in detail, focusing, of course, on you and what I have seen in your future, in a way that you might understand better.  If what I am trying to do works, you may already be receiving visionary messages.

In fact, my vision of the page has become a little fuzzy and I squint to read.

Are you okay, Eylene?

Yeah, I’m good.  I wonder what she meant by writing this though.

Just keep reading.  If you can.

I can.

He rests a hand on my shoulder in concern.

I would hope this can aid you in understanding why we had to send you away at so young an age.  We would never have done it, sent away our little girl like that, if it wasn’t absolutely necessary.  You’ll come to understand your family, where you come from.  I hope it will also be enjoyable for you, as you’ll be able to learn my story, through my eyes, and see for yourself the visions I’ve had.  You will face adversity, and you must be prepared for that, but rest assured.

The scene around me is becoming more confusing by the second, as I seem to be switching from one place to another as if by teleporting, though I never have enough time to take in my surroundings.  I continue to switch back and forth, faster and faster every time.  I struggle to focus at the page as it flashes in and out of my vision, and I finally make out the last line.

Follow the visions I’ve had, and prepare for them, and your future will be very bright, Eylene.

Chapter One

The Little Princess

"No, Saryn, you can not just leave the palace and explore!"

I try to make the ugliest face I can muster up as Emilia stares into my eyes.  I swear literal sparks should be coming from us, with the amount of aggression I can feel in both of our beings.  Emilia’s not great at magic though, so it’s only in my imagination that crackling Divination seeps into my arm that she still sinks her nails into, preventing me from running out of the room and down to the main door.  I stare into her faded blue eyes set with years of wrinkles and wonder for probably the millionth time in my life how old my main caretaker really is.

I can handle myself!  I don’t know why you are so mean! I yell.  I must admit, I’m not great at insults, but maybe that’s a good thing, as I’m not sure I could take the punishment of a harsher word.

I’m telling the queen, Emilia hisses, pulling me closer.

"Pft.  Go ahead, I say, looking away and trying my best to look unfazed.  I’m sure she’d be okay with it."

She finally lets go of my arm.  "You know better, Saryn.  I can’t believe the stunts you have tried to pull off, including the fact that apparently you attempted to climb out of your window?"

I glance at the small, square window behind me.  That was like two days ago, where were you?

"Your third story window?"

Oh, please, I’m sure I could climb down and be gone without a scratch.

"You are not going to be gone anywhere, young princess.  I’m glad you admitted to that though, I’ll be telling your mother for sure.  She begins to turn away and walk out the door.  Don’t try anything!" She yells back after the door is shut and presumably locked.

I immediately rush to the door and press my ear to it.  My favorite part, I whisper to myself.

How hard can it be to get a nine-year-old to behave? Emilia says aloud.

I snicker quietly.  I know that in reality, I always win.  Hey, I bet I could try to teleport out of here!  I assert as if to myself, but really hoping that Emilia hears me from outside.

I immediately hear footsteps running toward my door and scurry back to the middle of my room just as the door opens, trying my best to hold back the laughter.

You will not try anything of the sort, Emilia says gravely.  You know you aren’t skilled enough yet for teleportation.

She shuts the door behind her for the second time and I walk over to it once again.

Why can’t she be like her brother? Emilia says aloud.

I sink down to the floor at the words.  The one thing I hate to hear about.  It’s always Derhon did this amazing feat today, Derhon is such a great little prince, Derhon will make an amazing king one day.  Derhon this, Derhon that.  I can never escape it.  I often think that if I was born six years earlier, it would be me receiving that praise instead of him.  I’d like very much to be the older sibling, I think.

I saunter over to my window that is just low enough for me to rest my arms on the sill.  I bury my chin into my elbow, looking out at the spring afternoon sky.  The sun is just in view as it comes down in front of me.  I look down at all the beautiful trees and flowers in the huge garden below me, smiling at birds as they fly up and seem to greet me with a fleeting glance before flying off into the distance.  That’s how I’d like to be.  A bird, flying wherever she pleases.  Singing her favorite songs and saying whatever she has on her mind without a care for what others will think.  Ah, yes, that would be the life.

I wish I could be like the birds.  I should be like the birds.  I don’t have any business here, after all.  It’s my brother that has to stay here just so he can learn how to be a king.  I’ve never understood that.  I have a very small understanding of what my father’s days entail, but I don’t know why relaxing in a throne and eating food that servants present to you all day is something that must be learned. 

Four distinct knocks in a familiar pattern hit my door.  Speak of the devil.  It’s locked from the outside! I yell, still looking out the window.

As usual, my brother says from the outside.  I hear a soft crackle and the door is soon pushed open.  The clan is arriving on the east terrace.  You’re welcome to join us, as always.

I feel my face brightening as I turn away from the window to face him.  I try to get as much of the grin off my face as I can and speak as calmly as possible.  Is Benji coming today?

He’s already here.

I willingly run toward Derhon.  What are we waiting for, then?

The one thing I can’t complain about is my brother’s way of including me.  He’s actually very kind to me, despite my jealously, and my favorite component of his kindness is that he always lets me come along to meet with his friends—or his clan as we call them—when they call on the palace.  They’re all royals or of some sort of prestigious blood (of course), but they’re fun guys.  One boy in particular has become my best friend.  That’s Benji.  He’s the young one of the group, only a year older than I.

Are you going like that? Derhon asks, looking down at my pale blue dress.

I had to do manners and etiquette stuff with Emilia, I sigh.  Give me two minutes, and I’ll be right over.

I’ve always been a tomboy (to the great disdain of Emilia), and being with the clan certainly encourages that.  I enjoy the feeling of being one of the boys more than anything in the world, and achieving that feeling means wearing the sorts of clothes the boys wear.  I have just a couple of outfits, old ones that Derhon passed down to me.  His old clothes fit a little loosely on my small frame, but I couldn’t care less.  I hate wearing my day-to-day tight-fitting girl clothes anyways.

Okay, Sar, he chuckles, turning and shutting the door behind him.  I rush over to the bottom drawer of my large dresser, where I keep Derhon’s old clothes stashed under my awful skirts, and hurry to change into a dark purple top adorned with gold embroidery and tan trousers.  I quickly grab my plainest pair of brown flats, slip them onto my feet, and open my window cautiously, trying to be as quiet as possible.

Of course, I have climbed out of this window several times before.  I am actually surprised that Emilia didn’t know about it until now.  I pull myself onto the ledge and sit for a minute with my legs dangling out, looking out over the garden below.  I soon turn around, pushing up on the ledge as I ready strong, static electricity on my hands.  Using this, it is easy to stick my hands to the wall as I climb down, making sure, of course, that I close the window behind me so as not to arouse suspicion. 

I finally reach the ground, jumping off the wall for the final couple of feet and landing with a soft thump.  Easy peesy, I chuckle, looking around to be sure I am free from the palace staff's ever-watchful eyes.  There's no reason for them to be out here, but just to be sure.  After all, I've built up quite a reputation for doing things I'm not supposed to do and being in places I'm not supposed to be.

I let a small purple orb glow in the palm of my hand, enticed by its beauty.  I take a step forward, then fizz.  I appear a few feet beyond where I was.  I'm getting better at teleportation.  Someday, I'll be able to get out of the palace and explore easily.  I do this the whole way over to the east terrace, trying my very hardest to teleport farther and farther every time.  Of course, I fail to teleport at all several times, but I've still got pretty good accuracy, especially for not really training in teleportation yet.  Why would anyone train me in teleportation?  It's well known that I'd only use it to get out of here.

I spy another lad, my friends! a voice calls from high above.  I chuckle as I look up at the circular balcony above me.  James, one of my brother's closest pals, leans over the ledge. 

That's not a lad at all, I hear my brother chuckle in response as he walks over to his friend's side. He soon appears in front of me with a soft fizzle of electricity.

Hey, I told you that I wanted to try to get up there on my own this time! I protest as he offers a hand.

"And I told you that I don't want to be responsible for your injuries should you try to teleport up there."

"You wouldn't be responsible.  And it's two stories.  That's nothing."

For me, maybe.

I stick my tongue out at him and begrudgingly grab his outstretched hand.  I soon find myself on top of the balcony with the group of boys, who smile at me invitingly.  My sour disposition is soon replaced with a habitual grin as my eyes lock onto Benji.  His fingers find the back of his light brown hair and his dark eyes seem to smile along with the broad grin on his face.  Hi, Sar!

Hi, Ben, I smile.

Alright, men, Derhon says sharply.

"Pft.  Men," I chuckle.

Derhon pays no mind to my teasing.  Now for our epic journeys! He sits and the group soon forms a crude circle on the ground.

What is he talking about? I whisper to Benji as I sit next to him.

We're playing some sort of epic board game, apparently, he replies.  I notice the square board and various pieces scattered on the ground in the middle of the group.

He's so passionate about this stuff, I giggle.

He's just trying to be all leader-like.

Princely, I agree with a soft laugh.

Derhon begins to set up the game and attempt to explain the rules.

So, what great things have you done lately?

Benji only laughs.  Are you not going to pay attention to your brother?

Meh, I'll understand the game when everyone starts playing, I whisper back.  "So..."

Oh, I don't know, not much.  Except finally start my masterpiece! he grins.

You're kidding! Let me see!

Benji laughs again. I wasn't about to bring a canvas painting here and get it all messed up, silly.

Aw, I pout.

Don't worry, I'll teleport it here to the balcony tonight, since I've never been to your room or anything.

Yay! I shout.

What are you so excited about? Derhon asks, his piercing emerald eyes cutting over to Benji and I.

Oh, nothing, I mutter.

"Sure." He rolls his eyes at me and continues explaining the game.

Did you end up doing day or night? I ask, referring to the background of the painting that Benji had explained to me in detail weeks ago.  He had described it in words that created a picture more beautiful than I could ever make with my hands.

###

"Window Woman," he had said in an eerie whisper, his hands painting an invisible canvas somewhere way up in the sky.

I stopped him there, stifling chuckles.  "Window Woman?"

What?  The young painter tried to look angrily offended, but he failed to conceal his embarrassed red cheeks.  He looked down at the hard ground beneath us and said in a soft murmur that sounded almost apologetic, You don't like it?

No, no, I said quickly, trying to soften the blow.  I like the idea… I mean, um… I'm sure it will be beautiful, especially if you really paint this beautiful sky with rolling hills and wildflowers and… Realizing I was straying off of the point, I averted my thoughts.  The idea for the painting itself is wonderful—

But… he cut in, eager to hear just what it was that made me apparently not like his idea.

But the title is… a little…

Terrible, he muttered, picking up a handful of dry dust and tossing it to the side.

No!  No, no, just… an idea popped into my head.  "What about Girl in a Window?"

Hmmm.  I watched his face twist up into his trademark thinking look.

It's less… I tried to say the next words in the softest tone I could muster.  lame superhero-y?

I like it, he finally declared.  "Girl in a Window!  It's settled, then.  She'll be shrouded in a pale lavender nightgown that cascades in soft folds to the side of her as she sits, one hip on the edge of the wide, clay windowsill.  Her hair, black as night—" Like mine, I thought— will settle over her left shoulder in a whimsical, just barely tight enough to hold all the stray hairs in—

Braid, I finished, smirking as I looked down at my own.

Well… well— he stammered, cheeks flushing again after barely returning to their natural color, "I'm not painting you, exactly, just—"

"A girl who looks very much like me, and like me, loves to