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Once, in a far and distant land, across which spread a vast, thick, and dark wood full of pines and birches
and which clung to mountains as they stretched towards the sky and which followed their rolling foothills deep into valleys, there lived a young girl, Lynda Daymor, who had curly brown hair and blue eyes and who was
about to receive a long, bright red cape, which her grandmother had just sent to her via a messenger who, though strong and quite courageous, had only just survived passing through the vast, thick and dark wood that
was full of the pines and birches that clung to the rolling mountains that divided their kingdom, despite it being overpopulated with savage, vicious wolves – at least that was how the stories went – and despite not
having been given a map, as no maps across the kingdom existed because passage from one city, like Linden, the capital of their kingdom, and another town, like Hallton, in which this young girl about to receive the
red cape lived, was expressly "verboten" due to the resolution of a long, violent war between these wolves (who were not normal wolves but rather men who changed into wolves) and the humans (who dwelt safely in
their now walled cities, which had also been walled upon the resolution of this war as part of a peace settlement between the wolves and the humans), who had each agreed that the humans were to stay within their
cities and the wolves were to stay in their woods, and as long as neither side breached this contract, there would remain peace within the kingdom, even if that peace came at the price of freedom of travel and
freedom of communication, and so the passage of this exhausted, scared messenger over the narrow bridge spanning the ravine that marked the edge of the town of Hallton, through the city gates, which now served more
a formal purpose than an effective one as natural mountain barriers and magical wards kept out the wolves and kept in the humans, and up the lane to the girl about to receive the red cape's door had every citizen of
Hallton, young, old and in between, rapt with attention as they watched him stumble along and raise a shaking fist to knock on the oak door and as they waited for Lynda's mother to open it, which she did after
several moments and with a look of shock as the messenger shoved a package into her arms and, utterly exhausted to the point of unconsciousness, collapsed onto her doorstep, where he did not remain for long as Mr.
Daymor soon arrived at the door to see what all the commotion was and what he could do to help, which was to lift up this messenger's body and carry him over to the parlor room sofa, while Mrs. Daymor went into the
kitchen, set down the package, and poured the messenger a glass of water so that they may revive him and learn of his journey, his story, and why he would risk coming all the way through the mountains, woods, and
dangerous territory of the savage, vicious wolves just so that he could bring a small, lumpy package to their house; they knew that this man must have done all this because, as Hallton was a fairly small town and
all the inhabitants at least knew each other by acquaintance, the appearance of some unrecognized face at once meant to everyone that he was an outsider, even if they had not seen him enter through the town gates,
which he should not have been able to enter because of the magical wards protecting the city, and as it occurred to the Daymors that this messenger had passed through the wards unhurt, they realized that this
messenger must carry on him a magical seal, which is only given by one particular person in each city, the Keeper, who maintains the magical wards, performs other small magical spells and mixes special potions for
citizen's day to day needs, they realized who must have sent this special package with this messenger – Mrs. Daymor's mother, who was in fact the Keeper of Linden – and they realized, with some trepidation, what may
be inside that package which had been sent to Lynda, as there was only one thing possibly worth sending considering the dangers that lurked within the wood, and that was the Keeper's magical red cape, which could
only be worn by one with the magical blood flowing within her, which would protect the wearer from harm and which would only be given up by a Keeper (as no new ones could be made) in one situation – death; and so
the fact that Linden's Keeper's cape now resided on the kitchen table, waiting for Lynda Daymor to rip open the brown paper enclosing it, meant that Linden's Keeper was either dead or on the verge there of, and as
all these thoughts entered Mrs. Daymor's head, the glass of water she was clutching fell to the floor and shattered, and she paid no attention to the pieces of glass and droplets of water now sprinkling her legs,
but rather rushed back into the kitchen to further inspect the package, which had a note taped to it addressed to Mrs. Daymor herself in fancy, looping red letters that read, "To my darling daughter – please entrust
my cape to your beautiful daughter, my granddaughter, Lynda, upon whom I have never had the chance to lay my failing eyes and whom I wish to see in my last days; I understand of course the dangers which lurk within
the woods and therefore recommend that she be sent with a bodyguard; have no doubt that this cape will protect her from all harm and I would never dare to put my granddaughter in any danger; please understand that
she, innocent and young as she is, holds the most potential to learn my magic and undo these horrible confines which separate man from man, woman from woman – grandmother from granddaughter," and which, upon
reading, Mrs. Daymor set aside; unable to wait for her daughter, and ignoring her husband's shouts from the other room about whether or not she was alright, she carefully ripped open the brown packaging, which fell
to the ground, and fingered the soft fabric of her mother's red cape, which she had not seen for some twenty-five years, before the walls went up, but at once she felt an electric shock and the cape fell from her
hands, pronouncing even with that small zap that Mrs. Daymor, having never trained in magic and therefore losing any magical potential she had been born with, was not allowed to handle, let alone wear, this magical
cape, and as Lynda stepped into the kitchen, gazed at her mother incredulously, and then picked up the red folds gathered on the floor, Mrs. Daymor realized that her mother was right – the future of their kingdom
may indeed rest in young Lynda Daymor's hands.
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