Authors Note: Yes, some of you may recognise this story from a while back when I posted it the first time. It had been on the back burner, rotting away in fanfic limbo when I decided to finally do it some justice. It's much improved, and hopefully a lot clearer. Reviews would be lovely :-D ---Annie---
"...If our affections are tried, our affections are our consolation and comfort; and memory, however sad, is the best and purest link between this world and a better." – Nicholas Nickleby
Alex sighed tiredly, as she struggled to come to grips with the translations lying in front of her. Nearly four hours of blankly staring at the paper had made no difference when it came to comprehension. She tapped her pen against her forehead absentmindedly, then rubbed her eyes furiously in attempts to clear her mind. As she tried focusing on the words again, they began to blur together as her eyes begged for sleep, and inevitably, claimed mutiny, closing and enveloping her in a world of comforting darkness, in which enough time was never spent. She began to drift away from herself, feeling weightless and happy until the sound of leather against wood jerked her back to consciousness.
Poking her head awkwardly to the other side of her desk, she found her disturbance. She narrowed her eyes and looked it over carefully. It was a pitiful little thing. A torn and despaired excuse for a book, with its pages musty and falling off the binding and ancient to any eyes.
Alex looked at it closer, and more curiously, trying to place its origin in her mind. She settled herself without a conclusion. She reached over and lifted it from its spot on the floor.
A soft wisp of wind swept through the room as her fingers lightly embraced the cover. Alex darted her eyes around dubiously, wondering if her mind had begun it's tired tricks. She hesitated and went for the book again. It weighed heavily in her hand as she brought it up for closer examination, then lay it on the desk. She ran one finger down the binding, feeling the ridges worn into it, from overuse. Alex opened to the front cover and read the gold lettering scripted onto the first page.
"To my dearest Ella," the words read, "May this book provide you with a gateway to all that is seen and unseen, in this world and to those beyond. Always, Mandy."
Alex furrowed her brow. These names meant nothing to her, yet the quote left her feeling quite empty. This Ella, obviously had a good friend in Mandy, and Alex's heart longed for something even remotely close.
As she turned the first page over, she found that it actually began as a collection of children's fairy tales, regaling Alex with childhood favourites including Sleeping Beauty and The Emperor's New Clothes. Alex sat, feeling entertained yet nostalgic, remembering the stories that sent her imagination reeling from the days when she was a little girl. She read for as long as she could stand to, when the most curious of things happened. When Alex flipped back a few pages to reread the story of Rapunzel, a picture of a boy standing alone in the midst of a dark forest met her instead. Alex gasped and hesitated, not truly believing her eyes. She hurriedly flipped to the other pages. They had all gone blank!
Inwardly, she mourned the loss of such beautifully told stories, and remained baffled still by their disappearance. She turned to the picture of the boy, which remained clear. The art was so real, she could almost see the wind moving through his dark curly hair, the glint of the moon reflecting in his dark grey eyes shone at her as she felt the chill of winter air cutting through her. She blinked her eyes several times, to ensure that this was not her imagination running loose, as it often did late at night. Doubtingly, she settled herself with the most logical of solutions.
'It must be optical illusions, or something. Holographs or holograms...it MUST be.' She concluded, half-heartedly.
She traced her finger along the outline of his face and her heart ached for the boy, standing by himself, alone in the deep dark woods. The sudden slam of a door caused her to close the book quickly and attempt to hide it by snuggling it close to her body, hidden between her crossed arms.
Alex turned in her chair to see Fiona, her roommate, removing her coat and dropping her belongings on the dorm room floor. Fiona was one year older than Alex, and a 6th year student. Her flowing blonde hair and timeless beauty would hardly make one think that she would be the type to excel in every sport invented. Her picture perfect grades made pressure an ever- recurring factor in Alex's subconscious and living with her served as a constant reminder to Alex's imperfections.
"Hello, love." Fiona greeted with the typical.
"Hi Fiona." Alex responded casually. "How was your day?"
"Dreadful." Fiona said, practising her drama queen voice. "As usual, of course." Fiona paused to kick off her shoes and caught sight of the book wrapped tightly in Alex's arms.
"What's that in your hands?" Fiona asked suspiciously, and moved towards the desk. Alex sighed and shrugged her shoulders and handed the book to Fiona.
"I was hoping that you could tell me. I found it on the floor over on the other side of the desk. I just assumed that it was yours." Alex expressed, nonchalantly. But on the inside Alex had been praying that Fiona would show no interest in the book, nor have a clue to its owner.
Fiona opened the cover to the book and read the title page. Alex hoped that it wasn't the picture of the boy. Fiona raised her eyebrows and looked curiously at Alex.
"The Migration Patterns of Walruses and Other Arctic Dwellers?" Fiona asked, questioningly. "I thought that you would know me better than to think that I would read THAT." She paused and thought. "Maybe you took out an extra book from the library. You DO waste your teenage years locked up in stuffy study rooms. It probably just slipped into your pack or something." She offered this explanation for the book, as she handed it back to Alex. It all seemed liable in Alex's mind.
"Well, I'm off to bed. Night love." Fiona said kissing Alex on the cheek and handing the book to her. Alex turned in her chair and watched Fiona ascend the stairs to the bedrooms, and then when she disappeared from sight turned and opened the book again, hoping that the picture of the boy really hadn't gone.
But he was there. Steadfast and looking more assured this time, he looked more ready to brave the forest and its challenges. Alex smiled at his newly found confidence and once again ran her finger along his profile, then scolded herself for being so foolish. Alex turned the page to see if she could find out more about this boy, but was met with blank page after page. She frowned and flipped through the rest of the book. She landed on the only page with writing, and a small paragraph of cursive lettering neatly written in perfect penmanship captivated her.
There was one before, and will be again.
One who knows what will be and what has been.
Another's heart begs servitude
And leads this one to a fortunate interlude.
A chance to love, or the chance to save
The choice is hers and that choice is her bane
Staring with eyebrows furrowed, she read the words aloud and then found herself closing her eyes slowly, as if a sudden tiredness had taken over them. She felt the lightest of breezes lifting her hair slightly, then vanishing. She heard a soft popping sound as she opened her eyes slowly, and she gasped. Alex found herself in the most lovely of open glades, untouched and unspoiled by man. A covering of trees shadowed the sun with the exception of a few spots, where the light had managed to break through, causing a stale light to fill the area. Soft moss blanketed the ground underneath her kneeling body, and Alex's stomach sank.
"How...Why..." She stuttered softly, her mind overtaken by possibilities and what-ifs. She stood slowly; soaking in her surroundings. A sound from behind her made her turn quickly only to be face to face with a boy, who looked barely older than herself, staring back. He looked equally, if not more confused and lost as Alex was. She looked closer at his eyes, and the familiar grey colour called back her memory.
"The boy from the storybook." She realised quietly.
"What did you say?" The boy asked, even more confused.
Alex put a hand to her forehead and tried to analyse the situation before her.
"Nothing." She brushed it off quickly. Noticing the strange clothes he donned, she bit her lip, in doubt of her present location. "Um, not to sound silly or anything but...where am I, exactly?" She asked, motioning with her hand to the forest around her.
"On the borders of Kyrria and Ayortha." He said authoritatively. "Helmswood Forest." He added, hoping to erase the confused look on her face. There was a terribly long silence as his words slowly permeated Alex's already muddled brain.
"Oh..." She squeaked out. Now, she realised that she was in deeper than she could fathom. She glanced around her once more, then met his grey eyes. Overwhelmed, and feeling more alone that she had ever in her life, she felt herself lose whatever control she had possessed in the first place and felt a few stray tears flow freely down her cheeks. It wasn't sobbing, or a whining cry. But the cry of a person that realises the intensity of a dire situation, where all has been lost. Silent, and powerless, she helplessly dabbed away the tears.
"Please don't cry." The boy begged, biting his lower lip. He wasn't exactly sure how to handle himself in situations like these. Doing what he thought would be the most productive, he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her, gently adding, "Here, take this."
Alex accepted it graciously, and wiped away the tears, and attempted to collect herself.
"My name is Char. What's yours?" He asked kindly, but curiously.
"Alex." She replied after a moment, almost smiling. "Thank goodness you were here. I don't know how I can possibly find my own way from here." She confided, still not entirely sure of what she was going to do.
Char just smiled and nodded.
"Is Char short for something? I've just never heard a name like it." Alex said, starving for normalcy in polite conversation.
"Yes, actually. My full name is Charmont, after my father. But no one ever really calls me that." He said, growing more comfortable with this strange girl standing in the middle of the forest, with her pink trousers and fuzzy slippers.
"I've never heard Alex before. That must be a nickname for something." He said.
"Alexendris-Elisabeth. That's my proper name. I haven't heard that in ages. Not since..." She paused abruptly, and Char looked at her questioningly.
"Well, just not in a long time, so, yeah, Alex is the norm." She said, hurriedly.
Char decided it best to avert the subject as quickly as possible, as the tension rolling off Alex was thick enough to cut.
"My horse is just over there." He pointed behind him past a huddle of trees. "And I'm on my way back to my home, Frell. Maybe we can find someone there who can help you." Suddenly a revelation dawned on him. "My mother! She would know exactly what to do with something like this. You must come with me." Alex nodded sheepishly. What other choice did she have? Either she trusted this boy she met, who didn't seem at all the rape/kill type, or be left in the middle of the woods in a land she has never even heard of.
"We may reach Frell before nightfall, if we leave soon." Alex nodded and followed Char after he turned to the trees and revealed a majestic chestnut mare, with a silky golden mane. It was certainly the most beautiful horse that Alex had ever seen, and seemed as gentle as could be.
"This is Teller." Char said, stroking the horse's face lovingly. Alex could see the bond that was so obvious between riders and their horses.
"She's absolutely magnificent." Alex admired.
"You're good with horses?" Char queried. Alex nodded.
"They used to be my life. I've always held them in a higher esteem than other animals. Such a personality about them." Alex said, moving closer to the horse and felt her silky coat. Thoughts of her own stallion Ramsey, waiting in a stable, made her eyes come close to watering. He had been deemed unrideable without Alex there to soothe him.
"She won't have any problem with you and I together. I bring my sister riding all the time. You and her are about equal size." Char told Alex. She moved to mount and Char stopped her.
"One more thing. Where are you from?" He asked curiously.
"My home?" She clarified. He nodded.
"Well, I'm an American by birth. But my mother," She paused, "She died when I was 8 and my father couldn't bear me on his own so he shipped me across to England, where I've lived in a boarding school ever since." She confessed, openly. She never normally spoke of her mother, but Char seemed like one to understand, and it certainly wouldn't hurt to have him know.
"I'm very sorry about your mother." He said quietly. "But those places you mentioned, I've honestly never heard of any of them." He sympathised.
"I didn't really expect you to." Alex said softly. "I don't suppose asking where a phone would be found would be much help either."
"Phone?" Char said, bewildered.
"Forget that I even mentioned it." She sighed heavily. This was going to be much harder than she had expected.
"Not to worry though, my mother will certainly know what to do. She's good with things like this." Char moved to the side and extended his hand to assist in her mounting. "You first."
Alex placed her hand in his, its warmth, a comforting assurance. She smiled gently, and climbed into the saddle. Char adjusted himself behind her and took hold of the reins, his arms linking together around her waist. Wary at first, but then growing more comfortable, she leaned back into him. Alex wondered how she ever managed to get herself into a mess like this but prayed that her new, and only, ally's mother would figure a way to help her out of it.