Thankyou all for reviewing my other chapters, it makes me feel special =)
Things are starting to get (more) interesting, and there may be some appearances by characters from other fics in later chapters. Please Read 'n' Review. Guess what? I've finally read The Fire In The Forging, and The Healing In The Vine!!
Due to complaints from friends and family, I must put in some disclaimers:
- Melery, Jamon, Dom, Derrel, Tarania, Jamon's Father, Melery's Father, Jamon's Granmother, and Leonie are all my characters. If you steal them, I will sue the pants off you.
- Anything else not mentioned above automatically belongs to Tamora Pierce, unless other wise stated.
- I have a copy of every chapter with a witness' signature.
_____________________________________________________________________
I woke up and started to shiver. I was cold, and in the dark. Why was I here? Why wasn't I in bed? Shaking my head to clear all those distracting thoughts, I tried to remember what had happened.
The crazy girl with blue magic... She had attacked me. With her magic. At least I didn't feel like when I had used all my magic.
I was cold, which was no surprise, seeing as someone had taken my nightgown. All I was wearing was my loincloth and breastband. My wrists had been bound together, and tied to my sides. My feet were tied together at my ankles, and above my knees.
Using a tiny bit of my magic, I let up the wood walls. They glowed a dull green and I saw a star- shaped scar on my belly. I was in a cupboard, or a very tiny room. A wave of claustrophobia washed over me, and I pushed it back. You are not trapped, I told myself, you can use your magic to split the wooden doors open. And to untie the rope.
Splitting the doors open would cost too much energy, and there was no telling what lay on the other side. Instead I put my magic into the rope. --Fray, come loose, please, come on.--
There was no reply. Instead, I tried to figure out what the rope was made of, all the time freaking out. What if I can't get out? What if I'm trapped forever?
The rope, it was made of cotton, which comes from trees. It should have been easy for me to undo. I frowned as a hint of grey came into my head. Metal, I thought disgustedly. Someone had put it there to stop the edges form fraying. Unless the girl who attacked me knew that my magic doesn't mix with metal- magic.
From the room outside my prison, I heard noises. Quickly I doused my magic in the walls and I was plunged into darkness again. "Did you see something in the cupboard?" Someone asked.
I covered a gasp. Jamon! I started to thrash about, trying to get his attention. "I think so. I'll go check." A girl said. In my voice.
I sat very still as she opened the door a crack. It was crazy girl. Her eyes were blue, like my second set of contacts. But her eyes weren't warm and friendly like mine. Some philosophers say that eyes are the doorways into the soul. What I saw in her soul was pure madness. Suffering. Pain. She was evil, like the devil- god people across the sea worship. She glared at me and hissed, "Shut up, or I'll kill you. My plan can work as well without you as it can with you."
Then she shut- slammed- the door, but it popped back slightly so I could see into the room. Jamon sat by the table, which was covered by a deep green cloth. In the centre was vase full of red and white roses. On either side of the vase was a candle in a silver holder. The meal that was laid out was almost as lavish as the meals back home. A huge roast turkey with garnishes, ham- cheese potatoes, a salad, and dishes of other foods which I couldn't identify. "What was in the cupboard, Melery?" He asked.
"Nothing, just a little mouse," the crazy girl gave a tinkly laugh.
She sat down, and I could clearly see her. She was wearing one of the new gowns Jamon had bought for me. It was red, with a low neckline and a slit on the leg. Her hair was black, and cut to the same length as mine. Her eyes were blue like the sky in the middle of summer. Somehow, using magic I suspected, she had changed her face to mine. Crazy Girl had taken over my life.
She smiled sweetly at Jamon, and made signs with her hands under the table cloth. My world was plunged into darkness as I fainted again.
* * * * * * * * *
I woke up again. I wasn't cold anymore, but I felt like I was swimming in a sea of warm water. It reminded me of when Father, Mother and I went to the seaside for Midsummer.
Using enormous effort, I opened my eyes. Even a small job like that felt as if I was lifting three barrels of wine with one hand. When I opened my eyes, I almost threw up. I was stuck in darkness, but nothing like last time. This was darkness that went on forever. It was absolute darkness, with no light. The only colour was a circle of swirling colours and shapes in the distance.
I knew, from the books I had smuggled form the library, that it was a Chaos vent. No Chaos vents existed in the mortal realms. Which meant that I was further away from Jamon then I was when I lived in Darayn. "Correct."
The voice was louder then anything I had ever heard before. It filled everything, yet it was soundless. Like everything else like this place I was in, it made no sense. "You are in an alternate universe."
I tried to whirl around, but couldn't so I looked as far as I could in all directions. "Don't bother looking for me. I'm not here."
"Wh- who a- a- are y- y- you?" I asked, laboriously trying to move my mouth.
"My name is Leonie." A vision of Crazy Girl appeared in the space infront of me.
"Y- y- you! What h- have you d- done to Jamon?"
She laughed and it felt like my head was tearing apart. I put my hands on my temples, pushing, trying to hold it together. "Stop hurting me!"
"I am very sorry," she said sarcastically, "Jamon, eh? He's sleeping."
A picture of him asleep on a bed appeared, replacing the picture of Leonie. "Why?"
"He was tired. He doesn't have my stamina."
"You monster!"
"You're the monster. Jamon is mine! His father promised me him. Long ago, when he was nine and I was six. His father set up our marriage, for money, he was a greedy fool. Jamon didn't want it. But I did. As soon as I layed eyes on Jamon, well, I knew that no- one, especially not a little dungheap like you was going to take him away from me. When he ran away, I knew that I had to find him.
When I was twelve I ran aswell, and followed him. When he met me, he was horrified. He said he hated me, and to leave. He didn't want to be reminded of his past life. I've followed him for these past four years. Now that you've come along, I can take your place. He loves you, I can see it. And you love him."
"I do not!"
"Of course you don't, I believe you," her voice was condescending, "if you will excuse me, Jamon has woken up."
Then she left. I was stuck, alone, dirfting in a timeless, spaceless universe. I counted, to pass the time. The seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks and months passed me by, and I counted them all. After I counted a day, I made a tiny cut on my arm. I had one hundred and eighty marks exactly. Nine months I was been in that bleak pit of despair.
This 'day' started the same way. I was counting, because I am always counting. I had counted seven hours and twenty three minutes when something happened. The shifting pit of colours which has hung above me these nine months started to stretch, and widen. It kept becoming bigger until it filled my entire world. When I first had come here, the blackness was blinding. Now the colour was blinding. Suddenly someone laughed. And I fell.
Things are starting to get (more) interesting, and there may be some appearances by characters from other fics in later chapters. Please Read 'n' Review. Guess what? I've finally read The Fire In The Forging, and The Healing In The Vine!!
Due to complaints from friends and family, I must put in some disclaimers:
- Melery, Jamon, Dom, Derrel, Tarania, Jamon's Father, Melery's Father, Jamon's Granmother, and Leonie are all my characters. If you steal them, I will sue the pants off you.
- Anything else not mentioned above automatically belongs to Tamora Pierce, unless other wise stated.
- I have a copy of every chapter with a witness' signature.
_____________________________________________________________________
I woke up and started to shiver. I was cold, and in the dark. Why was I here? Why wasn't I in bed? Shaking my head to clear all those distracting thoughts, I tried to remember what had happened.
The crazy girl with blue magic... She had attacked me. With her magic. At least I didn't feel like when I had used all my magic.
I was cold, which was no surprise, seeing as someone had taken my nightgown. All I was wearing was my loincloth and breastband. My wrists had been bound together, and tied to my sides. My feet were tied together at my ankles, and above my knees.
Using a tiny bit of my magic, I let up the wood walls. They glowed a dull green and I saw a star- shaped scar on my belly. I was in a cupboard, or a very tiny room. A wave of claustrophobia washed over me, and I pushed it back. You are not trapped, I told myself, you can use your magic to split the wooden doors open. And to untie the rope.
Splitting the doors open would cost too much energy, and there was no telling what lay on the other side. Instead I put my magic into the rope. --Fray, come loose, please, come on.--
There was no reply. Instead, I tried to figure out what the rope was made of, all the time freaking out. What if I can't get out? What if I'm trapped forever?
The rope, it was made of cotton, which comes from trees. It should have been easy for me to undo. I frowned as a hint of grey came into my head. Metal, I thought disgustedly. Someone had put it there to stop the edges form fraying. Unless the girl who attacked me knew that my magic doesn't mix with metal- magic.
From the room outside my prison, I heard noises. Quickly I doused my magic in the walls and I was plunged into darkness again. "Did you see something in the cupboard?" Someone asked.
I covered a gasp. Jamon! I started to thrash about, trying to get his attention. "I think so. I'll go check." A girl said. In my voice.
I sat very still as she opened the door a crack. It was crazy girl. Her eyes were blue, like my second set of contacts. But her eyes weren't warm and friendly like mine. Some philosophers say that eyes are the doorways into the soul. What I saw in her soul was pure madness. Suffering. Pain. She was evil, like the devil- god people across the sea worship. She glared at me and hissed, "Shut up, or I'll kill you. My plan can work as well without you as it can with you."
Then she shut- slammed- the door, but it popped back slightly so I could see into the room. Jamon sat by the table, which was covered by a deep green cloth. In the centre was vase full of red and white roses. On either side of the vase was a candle in a silver holder. The meal that was laid out was almost as lavish as the meals back home. A huge roast turkey with garnishes, ham- cheese potatoes, a salad, and dishes of other foods which I couldn't identify. "What was in the cupboard, Melery?" He asked.
"Nothing, just a little mouse," the crazy girl gave a tinkly laugh.
She sat down, and I could clearly see her. She was wearing one of the new gowns Jamon had bought for me. It was red, with a low neckline and a slit on the leg. Her hair was black, and cut to the same length as mine. Her eyes were blue like the sky in the middle of summer. Somehow, using magic I suspected, she had changed her face to mine. Crazy Girl had taken over my life.
She smiled sweetly at Jamon, and made signs with her hands under the table cloth. My world was plunged into darkness as I fainted again.
* * * * * * * * *
I woke up again. I wasn't cold anymore, but I felt like I was swimming in a sea of warm water. It reminded me of when Father, Mother and I went to the seaside for Midsummer.
Using enormous effort, I opened my eyes. Even a small job like that felt as if I was lifting three barrels of wine with one hand. When I opened my eyes, I almost threw up. I was stuck in darkness, but nothing like last time. This was darkness that went on forever. It was absolute darkness, with no light. The only colour was a circle of swirling colours and shapes in the distance.
I knew, from the books I had smuggled form the library, that it was a Chaos vent. No Chaos vents existed in the mortal realms. Which meant that I was further away from Jamon then I was when I lived in Darayn. "Correct."
The voice was louder then anything I had ever heard before. It filled everything, yet it was soundless. Like everything else like this place I was in, it made no sense. "You are in an alternate universe."
I tried to whirl around, but couldn't so I looked as far as I could in all directions. "Don't bother looking for me. I'm not here."
"Wh- who a- a- are y- y- you?" I asked, laboriously trying to move my mouth.
"My name is Leonie." A vision of Crazy Girl appeared in the space infront of me.
"Y- y- you! What h- have you d- done to Jamon?"
She laughed and it felt like my head was tearing apart. I put my hands on my temples, pushing, trying to hold it together. "Stop hurting me!"
"I am very sorry," she said sarcastically, "Jamon, eh? He's sleeping."
A picture of him asleep on a bed appeared, replacing the picture of Leonie. "Why?"
"He was tired. He doesn't have my stamina."
"You monster!"
"You're the monster. Jamon is mine! His father promised me him. Long ago, when he was nine and I was six. His father set up our marriage, for money, he was a greedy fool. Jamon didn't want it. But I did. As soon as I layed eyes on Jamon, well, I knew that no- one, especially not a little dungheap like you was going to take him away from me. When he ran away, I knew that I had to find him.
When I was twelve I ran aswell, and followed him. When he met me, he was horrified. He said he hated me, and to leave. He didn't want to be reminded of his past life. I've followed him for these past four years. Now that you've come along, I can take your place. He loves you, I can see it. And you love him."
"I do not!"
"Of course you don't, I believe you," her voice was condescending, "if you will excuse me, Jamon has woken up."
Then she left. I was stuck, alone, dirfting in a timeless, spaceless universe. I counted, to pass the time. The seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks and months passed me by, and I counted them all. After I counted a day, I made a tiny cut on my arm. I had one hundred and eighty marks exactly. Nine months I was been in that bleak pit of despair.
This 'day' started the same way. I was counting, because I am always counting. I had counted seven hours and twenty three minutes when something happened. The shifting pit of colours which has hung above me these nine months started to stretch, and widen. It kept becoming bigger until it filled my entire world. When I first had come here, the blackness was blinding. Now the colour was blinding. Suddenly someone laughed. And I fell.
