The Little Duck
Prolong:
Once upon a time, there was a man who died. He died telling a story, to an audience of one, from a book he wrote many years ago, when he was once young and new to his skills.
In this story, there was a great kingdom, ruled by a beautiful queen. She was wise, kind and was a marvellous dancer. The kingdom was ruled with grace and justice, and it was a grand and golden time for the people. But one day, a traveller who wandered into the kingdom set eyes on the queen as she was walking among her people. His eyes were transfixed on her, and knew there had to be a wonderful story held within her.
The traveller happened to be a scholar, and had his skilled used as one of the palace's scribes. The traveller was able to write eloquently, but made sure to always include the truth. This won the favour of the queen and soon he became the queen's personal scribe.
The two soon became close friends, as the queen was able to tell the scribe all her secrets, worries and joys, and the scribe, without knowing it, did the same. Their relationship grew and grew, till they knew they were in love.
It was around this time, too, though, that the queen began to wonder where her lover had come from. It was true that he told her stories of his childhood, and things he learned along the way, but he always seemed to never mention the exact place he had come from, or friends he had known. It was all very mysterious.
At the very same time something was greatly weighing on the poor scribe, as he continued to be with his beloved. For though he told the queen many things about himself, there was still a tremendous secret that was beginning to catch up to him.
There soon grew a tension inside his heart, so great was the pain that he was convinced he had to distance himself away from the queen.
As he did this, a throbbing pain was beginning to grow in the queen's heart, as she pined for the scribe. It was so terrible, that one night she decided to secretly visit the scribe. She quietly walked into the scribe's study, hoping he was still there, working on important papers. But to her surprise, the scribe wasn't there. Only a tall, menacing creature, with large claws, dark feathers, and sharp horns was in the room, gazing at the queen.
Before the she could even think about screaming, she looked back into the eyes that were staring at her, and suddenly ran up to the monster, weeping.
"Those eyes!" She cried, "I know those eyes!"
The scribe bowed his head in shame, and pain as he watched his beloved cry. "I'm so sorry," His voice was gruff, but recognizable "I'm so sorry to cause you such pain."
He explained to the queen of his great misfortune in the place he once lived in. Of how the king in that kingdom was jealous of this kingdom, and how his hatred turned into darkness and cursed the land he was living in, so to be called "the King of Ashes and Fire". This darkness was spreading in the land, and would only be stopped until the queen was dead. Or so the wise men of the scribe's kingdom had said. The scribe was always skeptical of this of course, but in seeing all the death and sadness, he grew desperate.
And that is why he came to the kingdom, why he was first so determined to get so close to the queen. But with each day he learned about her, the harder it got for him to do his dastardly deed. Of course, the curse that was laid on the scribe's home didn't just affect the land; it slowly turned the people in that kingdom into monsters, obeying the will of the cruel king. So each day the scribe avoided killing the queen, was each day his body continued to change into one of those monsters. He just wondered when his mind would do the same.
The queen wrapped her arms around the great beast, weeping, "You've been through so much, and all on your own!"
The scribe was so surprised at how the queen responded, but was so relieved. He wrapped one big arm around her, and held her tightly.
In that moment the sun rose, and in the horizon, one could see a dark shadow looming forward.
The queen looked at the scribe, and knew what to do. She would never let this darkness come to take her people away, and she was not going to let it continue hurting the people it had caught. She was also not going to leave the scribe alone.
The scribe in turn knew what the queen was thinking, and with the help of a very powerful man, using both of their hearts, they sealed the darkness and themselves away, never to be seen again.
The end.
Oh! But did you know, this wasn't simply a story that had been written down. No, these things had actually happened and were written down in this book the old man was holding. And soon the listener of the story realized this too, as she saw the queen, the scribe, and the evil king come right out of the book.
Chapter 1
Night was still in the little town of Golden Crown Town, as the residence were swept away in sleep. The only sound that could be heard, were the songs little crickets were making to the moon.
But not everyone was asleep. There was a small duck, waddling her way towards a still and moon-lit lake. Something deep was keeping the little duck awake, and she felt a nice dip in the pond would help ease her thoughts.
As she swam into the cool water, she looked down at the rippled reflection below her. She wasn't as small as she once was, but definitely not the size of your normal duck. She no longer wore her old, yellow feathers from years past, but was rather adorning pure, white ones. Her beak was still carrying the same shade of orange though. This made her sometimes think she just might secretly be a swan, but she knew that could never be. Swans were much more graceful, so much more confident than she ever was.
She gave out a sigh, and continued swimming forward. She was still awestruck at how much time had passed since she last saw the Prince and Princess, how long she had stayed with the Storyteller. And still, she was just the little duck, only changing slightly in appearance and size.
While she muddled about time and how it was passing, music began wafting in the air. Duck looked around in surprise, wondering where the tune was coming from. A quick shudder suddenly fluttered her feathers as she thought of the possible culprit making the tune. But of course it couldn't be him, not after leaving all of them alone for so long.
The song kept playing, not changing in pitch. Now Duck had already been through so much to understand that aimless melodies weren't always best to follow. Of course, she had known someone who played a cheery tune once. And that person played her tune to help Duck.
So, in the end, she took a gulp and swam towards the source of the music.
Swimming onward, Duck could hear the melody a lot louder now. "A music box?" She wondered out loud, as the music continued to chime. She finally stopped right in the middle of the lake, where the music seemed loudest, but she couldn't seem to see any music box or other instrument that could have been playing the music. Yet it still kept play, on and on.
And then suddenly, a warm glow began to manifest itself on the lake, burning brighter and brighter. Duck gazed at the light in amazement as the light revealed a beautiful ballerina, dancing amidst the light. "Wow," Duck gasped in awe, "She's so beautiful." The ballerina was dressed in a white and gold tutu, her hair was a light, ginger colour, short but lovely. She was tall, but moved herself with absolute harmony with the music. She danced with passion and grace, her dance absolutely capturing all of Duck's attention.
But, something wasn't right.
Duck's heart began to feel heavy as she continued watching the ballerina dance. "Why," she began to say, a tear forming, "Why does she look so sad? Why do I... feel so sad?"
The tear suddenly dropped into the lake, and ripples formed all around her, extending all the way out to where the ballerina's foot was still touching the water.
As the ripple brushed her toes, the ballerina suddenly stopped, surprised, then looked to where its source came from. Duck gave out a nervous quack as her eyes met the marvellous figure.
"Duck?" The ballerina looked so puzzled as she said this, and the little bird felt slightly confused too. Didn't the ballerina mean to say, "A duck?" rather than just the word "duck"? Did she know-
"Why are you here?" The ballerina asked, looking quite frantic. "You shouldn't be able to see me, you should've forgotten!"
Duck didn't know what this lady was talking about, but she did feel as though this face were familiar to her.
"Could you be," Duck said out loud, not even realizing she was able say human words, rather than duck quakes, "Princess-"
"Stop!" The ballerina yelled. "You have to go, you won't be safe! Please, forget about me, leave before-"
Before she could utter another word, a great shadow began circling around the two. All at once, the two were now gazing up at a menacing creature, swallowed up in darkness, so that one could only see a silhouette of the beast, and his cold, blue eyes.
The ballerina snapped her head to Duck, and quickly began spinning, light sparking at her toes and reaching out to Duck like a ripple. "Leave, now!"
"But-!" Before she could fully express her protest, the little bird was swept up in light. The last thing she saw, was the ballerina swept up into the shadows.
"NO!" Duck quacked, rising up from her nest abruptly. This only allowed her to fall off the edge, face-first towards the floor.
"Ow..." Duck thought as she lay, slightly dumb-founded from the experience.
"Oh, Duck," She looked up on hearing her name, "You're awake."
She nodded to the boy who had spoken, sitting up right and rubbing her head with her wing.
"Did you fall from your next again?" His voice was teasing, and of course Duck felt embarrassed. She would have given some sort of reason as to why it happened, except he probably wouldn't be able to understand all the chirps. Instead, she sat there, somewhat indignant of him.
The boy chuckled, and walked over to her. He picked her up, to her own surprise, and set her on the bed, next to the desk that kept her dear nest. "You really need to learn not to be so scatter-brained so early in the morning." If Duck could blush, she would.
It was true, the boy could be rude, but he was always kind and gentle to her. He seemed so different from when she first met him, when he happened to be much ruder. His character was so prickly, and rash, that Duck had even once thought him an enemy. But so much had changed since then and now. She now saw Fakir as someone who, yes was still rude, but was also a great friend, someone she probably couldn't imagine without.
On thinking this last part, her heart felt a sting of pain. She didn't know the entirety of why she was feeling this pain, but she felt it was connected to her being nothing more than an actual, feathery, little duck.
"Hey, are you okay?" Duck quickly snapped her head up at Fakir and quickly nodded. Over the years, she had noted, that Fakir became increasingly observant. Of course not just to her, but to a lot of his surroundings.
"Well, alright," he replied. "I'm going to make some breakfast before opening shop, would you like something?"
On hearing food, Duck quaked in delight. Fakir smiled and the two walked out of the room, down to the kitchen.
After being able to help Prince Mytho and Princess Rue in defeating the Raven, the Prince and Princess were able to go off into their kingdom to rule it justly and live happily. Duck and Fakir still heard word from them though, as they would often send letters, and have done so through-out the years since.
Fakir continued attending Golden Crown Academy,and focused on dance more than ever. But, he also pursued writing, graduating the academy with both majors.
Rather then work in smithery, Fakir decided to continue with writing, specifically for ballets. Karon held no argument towards this decision, and was more than happy to see Fakir going after what he loved. The Book Men no longer bothered him, and even allowed him to have a bookshop they were keeping, as a sort of peace-offering in light of previous events.
As for Duck, well, she stayed a duck, but thankfully not alone. She stuck by Fakir's side all this time, as Fakir stuck to her's. People thought it was funny seeing the brooding Fakir have a duck as a pet, but they grew to find the relationship cute. It is unfortunate to say that no one remembered poor Duck in her human form after Drosselemeyer's story had ended with a happily ever after, not even Pikie and Lilly remembered her. Only Fakir, Rue and Mytho still remembered her. That being said, she didn't dwell on the matter. Instead, she continued to enjoy her days with Fakir, helping him in whatever way possible. She also got around to cheering up some of the folk of Golden Crown Town, even being able to see Pikie and Lilly once in a while.
And so, Duck and Fakir's days were peaceful, sharing breakfast in mornings, attending to customers and shelving down in the shop during the day, and weaving together great tales by night.
All was well... except these feelings welling up in Duck. She quickly swallowed them down as she ate her toast though. There wasn't anything she could do, and she shouldn't be so hung up on it. The dream she had that night came back to memory, and she wondered what it all could possibly mean.
It had been a very long time since Duck had such a vivid and worrisome dream; she wondered if it was a premonition.
Meanwhile, Fakir was looking through manuscripts and notes he had written down over the past few nights, whilst enjoying some tea. As a writer, he still had a long way to go before being able to get any of his work accepted by the ballet and writing community, but he was determined. He just needed to create the right kind of story to be captured in dance. He sighed, laying the papers down and stretching out his arms.
Duck noticed how long his arms had gotten, and how tall too, he had grown. There were a few changes to Fakir's appearance, too, but none to drastic so that his younger self looked totally unrecognizable to his current state. That, of course, meant he was still quite handsome.
Usually, once the bookstore was open, many people would come by, glancing at the selection, leafing through the pages, looking for a great find. Most of these customers tended to be girls, because how could one not refuse a chance to see and even speak with the charming, single, and mysterious store owner/writer. Fakir didn't seem altogether bothered by it, for he never caught onto the girls' motives, but Duck would chuckle to herself and think it adorable.
On this particular day the usual amount of customers came streaming in, buying, bargaining and admiring, but by noon, the store was empty. Only the interesting pair remained in the now quiet store. "Huh," Fakir thought out loud, "Looks like it'll be quiet for a change."
"Qu- quack," Duck responded, curious of the sudden change. Even if it was around lunch, there would at least be ten or so people coming in to look around.
The boy got up from his chair at the register and looked over at a few books that had been placed at his desk. "I'll just put these away, and maybe we can get an early lunch break," He said, picking up the books, "Sound good to you?" Duck nodded, and waddled from her spot to the pile of books that Fakir was grabbing at. She nudged a few his way, and started even balancing a few on her head, a skill she mastered over the years.
They came over a shelf, and the boy took up a stool. "Quack!" Duck warned.
"I know, I know, I'll be careful," Fakir chuckled, taking a book from Duck's head and adding it to the ones he was carrying. Up the stool he went, and he began shelving them. "Oh, this one belongs over there," Fakir noted, looking at a space further along the shelf. "I can probably reach it."
"Quack, quack, quack!"
"Hey, quit worrying, I can get it - just need to stretch a little farther."
Fakir's arm, despite how long it was, was still a few inches short of the spot on the shelf, and Duck could see it. She continued to quack at him, but he wasn't listening. She looked up at him nervously, and then she could see how close his feet were from slipping.
So, it wasn't too surprising that he indeed slipped off the stool, Duck quacking and fluttering in a panic and Fakir bracing for impact. What was surprising was that he didn't find himself kissing the floor.
"My, that was a close one," Came a voice from behind him. He opened his eyes, turning his head towards the voice.
"My, you're lovely!" Said another, this one towards Duck.
The reason why the boy hadn't ended up falling, was because of a man, much taller than Fakir, catching the his arm. He seemed to be the cheery sort, with welcoming smile. His hair was red, and long enough to be put into a small, braided ponytail, his eyes a warm brown.
The person talking to Duck, happened to be the man's partner, a woman with just as much cheer as the man. She didn't look particularly tall, but she wasn't particularly small. Her dark hair was in a curly bob, and her eyes were a sky blue.
The man helped the boy get back on his stool, while the woman picked up a puzzled Duck.
Fakir jumped off the stool and brushed the dust off of his shoulders as he looked at the pair that had arrived. They seemed normal, the man wearing a vest and trousers and the woman wearing a summer dress. But how did they come in without the bell on the door ringing?
"Thank you," Fakir said to the two, taking his little bird from the arms of the woman.
"Not a problem, good sir." Said the man, in sing-song sort of voice.
"We were just walking by when we noticed your dear friend worrying her poor feathers off," The woman smiled pointing to Duck.
Duck felt quite embarrassed to hear how much she was panicking, and Fakir could see it. "Ah, well, thanks again," Fakir responded, a little more gratefully.
"Oh, not a problem, sir," The man repeated, this time with a rich laugh. "Just remember to listen to this bright girl, here," He said looking at Duck.
"I'll make sure to remember that," Fakir replied, now too, looking at Duck with a grin. "Is there anything I could happen to help you with? In thanks to helping me."
"You don't have to do that," The woman said, "We really were just looking to help."
"But, if you don't mind us asking, we were wondering if you had a particular story," The couple now looked at the two friends a little more intently now, a gleam sparkling in their eyes.
"I'm not sure, but I could find out," the boy replied, "What was it's title?"
"Hm," the woman began to ponder, "Now I do wonder what is was; darling, do you remember?"
"Wasn't it the Ugly Duckling?" He replied, looking as though he wasn't too sure of his answer.
"Oh, no, it couldn't be!" She protested. "You see, young lad, and Miss Duck, there is this story that my husband usually mixes up with the Ugly Duckling. The story is similar except instead of the duck realizing she is a swan, she realizes she's a girl! Or was it the other way around?"
"Hard to tell with that one, to be honest," The man replied, and continued, "Yes, the story was quite fantastic, and she even helped quite a lot of people, isn't that right dear?"
"Indeed!" She replied positively. On hearing the couple talk, Fakir was feeling a bit on edge. A duck that turned into a girl, and one that was able to help many people? It could have been a coincident, but the boy was having his doubts.
"She was even able to help the Queen and the Scribe!" The man went on to say.
"The Queen and Scribe?" Fakir asked. In the course of their journey, never did he ever encounter a queen or scribe, and to his knowledge, neither did Duck.
"Oh yes, the Queen and the Scribe!" The woman chimed. "Was supposed to be a tragic story, those two, that was until they met the girl!"
"Yes, yes," Said the man quite dramatically. "The two were fated to be trapped together forever in shadow, until the girl arrived. Of course, we haven't seen what has happened just quite yet, so we're not really able to tell you the rest."
Fakir looked at them oddly. "Why wasn't the story finished?"
"Well, you see, the writer passed his work to someone very special, and right now she's working on getting it finished." The woman said gently.
"Yes, but she unfortunately hit a sort of... well, "block" with the Queen." The man said, rubbing the back of his head.
"The Queen..." Duck thought, "Why would the writer have a problem with the Queen?"
"It seems like the Queen is afraid of things changing," The woman said, as if to answer Duck's question.
"But wouldn't that help her?" Fakir piped in.
"Yes, it definitely would," The man agreed. "But it comes with some consequences."
"And that's why she's so afraid," the woman sighed. "She's so terribly afraid of what could happen if the girl continued to help them."
There was a slight pause before anyone spoke. Fakir was the first to say anything, "Why did the previous writer leave it to the new writer to finish the story?"
"Well, there were some... unfavourable circumstance working against him," The woman replied, obviously using careful words.
"But the main reason was because he saw quite a lot of hope in the new writer," The man grinned.
"Yes, quite a lot," the woman agreed. "So much so, that it could change everything."
Fakir wondered more about this story the two were telling, about the duck who possibly really was a girl. But who was this new author? Before he got the chance to ask, the bell on the door rang.
"Hello," came a voice from the door, "We were wondering if we could look around?"
"Excuse me," Fakir nodded to the two, and went over to the customer. "Yes, we're still open."
He turned to get back to the couple, but they were no longer there. Fakir blinked, then rubbed his eyes.
He looked down at Duck, wondering if she too had seen them. From her expression, he could tell they both saw the same thing.
"Um-excuse me," a bashful miss came by Fakir, holding up a book, "Would you happen to know any other books by this author?"
"Excuse me, I have to check on something," He replied to the customer.
He ran over to the row of shelves, looking to see if the couple had decided to look around. But row after row, Fakir and Duck were beginning to realize that the odd pair were no longer there.
"How can this possible?" Fakir said while walking back to the front.
Duck was asking herself the same question, and began getting spooked. "What if those two, maybe were quite possibly-" She shuddered at the thought.
Fakir felt the quick ruffle in the little bird's feathers, and sighed. "Don't be stupid," He said quietly to her, as he sat down to attend to the people arriving, "They weren't ghosts."
Duck looked at his unmoved expression, as he began work again. She sighed to herself and looked back at the row where they appeared. Now that she thought about it more, those two looked kind of familiar...