Version #2.0 I reedited a minor detail in this first one to keep up the consistency of the story. Hope you like this fic, I'm having a lot of fun writing it because it presents such a challenge. Looking foward to all of your wonderful reviews!
Disclaimer: Is it required to put one? I just do it because in every fic I've ever read people put them in there. Well, it's true that all the characters besides the ones you don't recognize are Tamora's. This fic, I'm pretty much just borrowing her setting though, I think. I might have some old characters in it in the future. Won't tell you which ones though. So any character that is not Tamora's is mine and no matter how much you're going to love my main male character, he's also my own little fantasy and mine alone (jk). What a long-winded disclaimer. On to the good stuff!
*~* Nettle *~*
Flying through the air, connected to the world by only a swing. My worries, my problems, my life are easily lost in the exhilarating feeling of weightlessness. The air rushes like wind though my hair, across my face. Reaching out with my Gift I can sense the platform coming up and deftly release my connection to the world and become an enemy of gravity, rolling through the air, landing steadily on the platform. The roar of the crowd sitting comfortably in benches below greets me as I make my dive onto the net ready to catch me. I sense every person in the room, every shift of their bodies as they watch me summersault and then lithely crouch on the net.
"Ladies and Gentleman," I hear Goral's booming voice, "Netty Diver!" Applause, bow, applause; this is the part of performing I could do without. I like to hear the crowd while I'm performing, not after. I want to see the crowd's reaction to my performance, which even if I wasn't blind I wouldn't be able to see while on my swing.
"Good job, Netty!" Berry, our talented costume designer tells me. My real name isn't Netty, of course, that's my stage name. My real name is Nettle Grey.
"Thanks, Berry. Did I look alright to you?" I think the only thing Berry likes about me being blind is that I can't protest the outfits she puts me in because, well, I can't see them. Sometimes I feel the dress doesn't give enough support and ask her for something different but most of the time I wear whatever she happens to create.
"You looked fabulous, as usual. I think we might have something going with the blue and green. It contrasts those red curls of yours. Now if only I could do something with the cowlicks." I feel a pang in my chest at the mention of colors. I don't blame Berry for forgetting but, it still hurts to think about. There's nothing I want to see more in the world than color. How I long to know what red, blue, and green look like. Simple words that can be used to describe anything in the world. I may be able to sense the proportions of things but the exact details elude me, like color and shape.
"I'm sure you did a great job, Berry, but I have no time to chat. I want to eat my supper and get to bed. We have a long trip tomorrow and I want to make sure I'm well rested. Goodnight!" I give her a quick peck on what I hope is her cheek and Sight my way to nourishment.
My Sight is confusing sometimes, hence the reason I never leave our camp. Everything has a signature, though I wouldn't be able to tell you exactly what that is. Once I sense something I'll be able to recognize it later. I don't see the locations and shapes of things in my mind, I just know if a door is coming up or someone is approaching. Depending on whether or not the signatures of either are familiar, I might be able to tell where something leads or who the person is. People are harder though because objects such as chairs have a similar signature to other chairs making them easily identifiable whereas people are all different each having a unique signature of their own. Very confusing, so Goral made it an official rule that the camp be set up exactly the same every time so I know where I'm going.
It is in this manner that I find myself in the dining tent among the other Players. Goral really outdid himself with the food tonight. It seems like I'm eating everything ever made. I can't tell exactly but I recognize the signature and taste of seasoned pork.
The chatter seems unusually loud tonight. I wonder what all the buzz is about. I turn to Goral on my right.
"Goral," He doesn't hear me but I can't see why, "Goral!" I raise my voice a little and sense him shift towards me.
"Yeah, Netty?" His voice is the happiest I've ever heard it.
"What's the occasion? Everyone seems really happy." I sense the hand a second after it hits my back, a little too hard.
"I'm surprised you haven't heard. This is for you. Your performance turned out the biggest crowd we've ever had and that means the biggest sales." This new voice belonged to Irial, my best friend.
"Ow." I throw my arm at her but miss when she shifts slightly, curse her, she always knows. Then I realize what she said. I feel the heat rushing to my face.
"Would'ya look at that, Irial. She's blushing." Goral says. I might've tried to hit him if I knew what a blush was.
"If by blush you mean heat rushing to my face then yes, I am blushing." Putting my fork down, I push myself up. "Now if you will excuse me, I need to get some rest."
"Okay. Goodnight, Nettle." I feel Irial's arms circle around me and she gives me a tight squeeze. "Get some sleep, Netty." She whispers. I hug her back and then move toward the tent entrance.
Walking in to my tent, I reach out and brush my fingertips across the smooth surface of my hand mirror, lying on top of the chest where I keep my personal belongings. I have no use for a mirror, of course, but I like to keep it around just the same. It belonged to my mother before she left. My only regret about her leaving was that she left me with him, my abusive stepfather.
Then I hear the whispers. Reluctantly, I draw my hand back. I hate the whispers. I take off my clothes and slip on a nightgown, the whispers steadily getting louder. Holing up under the blanket I try uselessly to block them out. I know it won't work because I've tried it before. This happens often before bed and sometimes when I'm traveling or practicing. It irritates me to a point where I snap at people. I can't tell them why because what would they think of a blind acrobat who hears voices? Nothing very nice, I wager.
The whispers are completely unintelligible and I have no idea where they come from. Perhaps it's part of my Sight or something. If so, it's one thing I haven't been able to master.
I know that I'm not going to get much rest tonight so I rest my head on the pillow of my bedroll and try humming a lullaby to myself. The voices usually stop around dawn, so it surprises me when they stop all of a sudden. I cut off the lullaby mid-bar, startled. The second I stop, the voices start again. I resume humming again and they stop again. Interesting, I wonder if it's the lullaby itself or just humming that makes it stop.
I change tunes and the voices come back. I hum the lullaby and again they disappear. Well, at least I can get a peaceful rest now but I am going to bring this up with Irial tomorrow, her being the only person I've told anything to about the voices. For now, I keep humming and close my eyes, relaxing. Minutes later, I fall asleep.
On the boat to Corus the next morning, I follow the sense of Irial's signature to what I believe is deck. It's hard to tell. Especially since I'm blind. I hate boats because of it. The boat rocking back and forth, things constantly shifting, is very annoying to navigate. As I get closer I start to sense other signatures around her. I hear her graceful voice among the voices of deeper, more gravelly tones. Sailors, I assume.
"Irial." I think she's listening because I sense her shift towards me.
"Good morning, Nettle. I thought you'd gone overboard, you took so long with the horses." She says.
"Hazelnut requires quite a bit of attention. Thank you very much." I say sarcastically.
"Mithros! You and that horse. I swear if I didn't know that you were best friends with me, I would've thought your horse was your only social connection." It was her favorite thing to complain about when I spent a long time with my horse, Hazelnut.
"You know she doesn't like boats. It doesn't sit right with her stomach." I try to send what I hope is a glare, in her general direction. It's like hand-eye coordination; I might know where someone or something is but that doesn't necessarily mean that I can pretend I'm looking at it. Sometimes, as Irial loves to laugh and point out, I'm way off. Apparently, talking to empty space is an extremely hilarious event that can be brought up at breakfast, lunch, and dinner and be laughed at over and over again.
"You just have so much in common. Congratulations! I hope you two will be very happy." Sometimes her sarcasm can be very annoying. Like now, for instance. I step closer to her. At least I can do that, and smack her arm, lightly.
"What? It's not like you can disagree."I gesture discreetly to the signatures or what I believe are sailors that linger still.
"Oh right. Talk to you later boys, maybe. Bye." Her arms moves up and she moves it back in forth in what I realize is a wave as we walk away.
"I figured something out last night." I start. We are in a cabin below deck and being in close quarters like this makes me queasy. Walls impede my Sight and that results in my claustrophobia. It's like being really, truly blind, being cut off from the one thing that allows me to survive.
"And that is?" I realize I've been quiet for a beat too long.
"The voices. They stop when I hum this lullaby I made up." Times like this, I wish I could see people's faces, to see their reactions.
"Goddess. How did you figure that out?" Her voice sound kind of, I don't know, excited yet serious.
"I was just humming to block out the voices and this lullaby that I'd been playing in my head all day popped into my head. Once the voices stopped, I started to experiment and it seems that this lullaby stops them. Kind of like blowing out a candle." Then it starts to dawn on me that this could be a major discovery. If I can turn off the voices now, maybe I can try to experiment again, and actually understand them.
"I can't believe you're just realizing what this means now." It may seem like she's reading my mind but really she's just reading my expressions, which having no experience with, I can't hide.
"Not fair, I wasn't really thinking about it. I'm more nervous about our show in Corus. Goral said King Jonathon himself might come to see it." My voice sounds shaky, even to me, as it comes from my mouth. The crowd will be fairly large in the capital city.
"Alright, I'll give you that one but you have the Sight! These voices could be prophetic or something, who knows?" Her shoulders lift in what I take to be a shrug. "Oh and seriously? The King?" Contemplative to excited again. I swear she has some emotional disorder.
"I don't believe it but that's what Goral said and prophetic? I don't know about that." I say and hear an answering sigh.
"I hope the reason you don't want to believe either is because you don't feel important enough." I hear a sound like tsk tsk, "such little self confidence." She's wagging a finger at me. I think that's supposed to admonishing. She's right though. A blind acrobat who had a horrible childhood, prophetic with a performance worth being seen by a King? Yeah, right.
"Well, even if the King does show up, it's not like I'll know. I haven't Seen his signature before." I've never even been to Corus at all. "Besides, we're here." I say as I feel the ship start to slow.
"Fine, but don't think I'm giving up." She stands up and offers me a hand. "Do you need help getting to the inn?" She asks. Glad to finally get out of this enclosed space, I nod and then follow her on deck.
Usually we make camp outside the city were performing in but a building in Patten District was offered for our use so Goral decided to take the offer. Now, riding on Hazelnut I'm shocked by how many people live here. Every, what Irial tells me is a street, I sense more and more people moving around. It never seems to end.
Irial opted to walk instead of riding a horse before we left the ship and decided to lead my horse for me. I lean down and try to talk over the bustle.
"How many people do you think live here?" I ask as our group of 30 or so Players turn onto another street.
"Good question. I think there's about eight hundred thousand." She says evenly.
"How do they all fit?" I ask disbelievingly. The signatures of these buildings tell me how close they are. There's barely enough room for someone to walk between them.
"Another good question but I have no idea. It amazes me too." She pauses for a moment then speaks again, her tone much lower, "I wish you could see these colors, Nettle, it's so beautiful."
"I wish I could, too." I whisper. We travel silently until we reach the inn. I dismount easily and grab Irial's hand. I'm going to have to have someone with me at all times during this week. Hopefully, I'll make it to the finale in one piece.
Irial leads me up to a large room that we'll be sharing. I put my stuff down and explore, asking Irial the names for things I don't recognize. When I get to the bed I gasp at the softness. Laying down, I take a book out of my pack.
"I'm going out for a minute. I'll be back." She moves towards the door. "Will you be all right?"
"Yep. I'll be right here when you get back." I hold the book up. "I'll just be reading." She leaves and I'm alone.
Goral had found a set of books for blind people when he was in Corus last. The raised letters are small and I run my hand over the words, easily deciphering their meanings. This book is about a Princess who is cursed with sleepless nights when she accidentally insults a great mage. She spends all day and night in her room vainly trying to capture the bliss of sleep. After a month of this she hears music playing in the courtyard outside her window one night and falls asleep. Joyful, she runs and tells her father in the morning. He had been searching fruitlessly for the mage who cursed her and this news gave him hope. He made a decree that the man or woman that played in the courtyard the previous night would be given anything they asked for if they would play their music for the princess every night. I'm just reading the part where a few musicians step forward all claiming that they played for the princess when Irial walks back in.
"Did you have fun?" I ask as she takes off her coat.
"Yes! This city is absolutely amazing! I have to take you to the market tomorrow. I saw this one dress that would be perfect for your finale!" Uh oh. She's gushing. Nothing good ever comes of her gushing.
"Are you sure? I might get lost and who knows what dangers this city has." I have never been to any of the markets in any of places we've been to and I'm reluctant to leave familiar territory.
"Relax, I'll be with you the whole time. Now come on, it's time for dinner." Wait a minute.
"Dinner? How long have I been here?" I look towards the window even though I know it won't give me any clues.
"Obviously you haven't moved since I left and that would mean you've been here for about four hours." She plucks the book from my hands and puts it on the nightstand. "Let's go."
After dinner I go back up to my room and change into my nightgown. Irial said she was going to stay downstairs for a little bit longer. I'm just pulling up the blankets when I hear the voices again. Curse it. I had them last night. I'm about to start humming when the sound of some sort of instrument drowns me out. The voices stop but I don't notice. I'm listening to the beautiful sound coming from my windows. It's a tune I don't recognize but it's soft and sad. Almost like a lullaby except it's faster. I feel myself drifting to sleep with each note. I don't fight it and fall into the welcoming unconsciousness with the story of the princess who couldn't get any sleep and the musician who helped her.
Ooooh lovely ending, if I do say so myself. I hope you've enjoyed this first of many chapters. It would show that you enjoyed it even more if you press that little button at the bottom and send me some acknowledgement that I'm not writing to some alien species that happen to be the only things in the universe that enjoy my fic. Oh the horror! Come on, take pity on me and REVIEW. I don't want the aliens to come dissect my brain to find out how I write this crap. Thanks for saving my brain to those of you who review! XD ~Polaris ;)