She stepped up into the carriage and jumped as two first-years ran past her. The one in front, a young girl with short, dark hair and oriental features, was screaming with laughter, as a boy, taller and more ropey than her with distinct eastern European qualities, chased after her, demanding that his owl be returned to its normal colour, but also with a playful smile on his face.
Lorelei watched them with a small smile, and thought about how few boys she had been in contact with in her childhood. When the two kids neared the end of the corridor, the boy attempted a flying tackle aimed at the girl, and they crashed to the floor, with a shriek and a giggle, as the young boy pinned her to the floor, tickling her. Lorelei gasped, but she saw that they were alright.
It was definitely strange to her, this level of physical contact between a boy and a girl. It had always seemed slightly strange. Sure, she had seen couples holding hands around town, and she wasn't opposed to it, it was just… not what she had grown up with.
A porter outside closed to door behind her and the train lurched into motion. She wobbled a bit, and steadied herself with her hand on her trunk.
She walked on in search of a free compartment. She walked past one that seated five girls of about the same age as herself, their heads all bent low towards that of a sixth, who was speaking fervently in a low whisper. The girls displayed rapt and absolute attention. The talker had round eyes of perfect china blue, framed by eyelashes laced expertly with mascara and shifting behind fashionable rectangular glasses perched a straight English nose. Her full head of fairytale blonde ringlets cascaded over her sharp shoulders and just reached her breasts. She whispered with lips that were slim, but a perfectly shaped cupid's bow, and looked soft as velvet, and she gestured with slim fingers as white as milk, with a peach-painted nail on every tip.
Lorelei hadn't noticed that she had stopped to stare, as transfixed as the other girls, until the magnificent goddess raised her head and halted her speech mid-word to look the other girl standing in the passageway up and down. She did so quickly, her eyes flicking rapidly over the other girl, taking in every inch of her.
'She is new, of that I'm certain' she thought 'and what a strange way to dress.'
Her scrutiny only lasted a split second, with a fleeting shadow of surprise at the back of those perfect, almost crystalline eyes that Lorelei later dismissed as imagination, for it might as well have been when one considered the glowing smile that she then gave Lorelei.
Her heart melted then and there.
'This girl truly must be a goddess' thought Lorelei to herself 'for how else can her face hold such perfection? That of a mere mortal would twist under the strain'
Lorelei was in a stupor, and only when she regained enough composure to tear her gaze away from this vision did she realise that all the girls in the compartment had turned to find the disturbance, and that a dozen eyes were now trained on her.
She instantly turned pink to the ears, bowed her head and turned on her heel. She marched briskly down the corridor, and turned sharply into the next empty compartment she saw.
She slam-locked the door and threw herself onto the seat and covered her face with her hands.
"What a great way to start the year" she murmured to herself.
Lorelei had decided that the best (indeed, the only) way to take her mind off of the girl was the way she always distracted herself; by channelling her energy into something she loved.
She had no way of touching the earth, which was how she preferred it, so she settled for the next best thing, which was throwing the window wide and kicking off her boots and socks.
She started pacing up and down her compartment, which only allowed about three steps either way, and tried to think of something other than that bewitching face.
She ran through her mental catalogue of songs her mother had taught her. They were all in an exotic language that she didn't fully understand, but that her mother Peisinoe had promised to teach her one day. She knew what a few word meant, but they were hardly enough to write her own songs, as her mother had assured her she would b doing one day. All the songs her mother had sung to her as a baby she had made up herself.
She remembered her mother Peisinoe explaining how her music seemed to work magic on people, calming them no matter how panicked, cheering them no matter how forlorn. She had said that her language was only passed down, mother to daughter, and that no-one else could speak it, but everyone's mind understands it. "It's like you're singing directly to their subconscious." She had explained "They understand on a subconscious level, and cannot argue"
But it only worked if she sang in the special voice she and her mother could both use.
She selected a song that used to hush her when she was inconsolable as a small child, and instantly the words sprang up from her memory. She put them to her tongue and wove the complex archaic syllables into the air, trying to fuel them with as much love as she could.
She pushed her vocal cords into her unique hum with practised ease, and faced the open window. She closed her eyes and felt the occasional jolt of the carriage as it sped along its tracks beneath the soles of her feet.
She let herself slip into the familiar daze, as her lips formed the words she knew so well.
It made her think of home.
All throughout the carriage Lorelei's lilting melody could be heard. It filled the air and gave everything an edge of silver. The voice was like the ringing of crystal, and even though the language it used was completely unintelligible, everyone who heard it instantly felt as though the words were wrapping around them, as soft and warm as a mother's arms, that when they were surrounded by this sweet music nothing mattered.
The boys in the carriage felt this effect a hundredfold, and all thoughts were drained from their minds except for one question that was the same in the conscious of every young man aboard;
Where, or who is that music coming from?
And the resolution to find out the answer.
The corridor filled with people; boys of various ages in a dream, followed by the girls they had been around, who all bore similar expressions of worry and confusion, many calling the name of the boy they were following, and asking eachother "What's going on?!" They all moved towards the same point.
By the time the song had drawn to a close, an audience had amassed in the corridor, and faces filled the entire space of clear glace in the door of Lorelei's compartment. The expressions ranged from complete bliss to utter confusion, and hands pawed at the handle of the door.
It was one of the resulting CLACK sounds that jolted Lorelei from her reverie.
She turned sharply to look at the door, saw the spectators, most with their eyes closed in regret that the song had ended. The girls had been pushed away from the window by boys at the back fighting for a view. Two pairs of eyes stood out instantly, as they were open. One was a rough, slate blue behind glasses, and belonged to a boy with a mass of wild, black hair. The other was a cold, dark brown, and belonged to a thin, sickly-looking boy with blonde hair that was almost white. She gasped and turned away as quickly as she could, her eyes wide with worry at her own carelessness. Mama had always warned her, time and again, that if she was to sing around people, NO-ONE could see her face or know her name. She had not understood why, and she had not asked, she had just understood that, whatever the reason was, it was probably a damn good one.
She faced the window again, and backed up to where her beg lay on the seat. She took out her sketchbook and opened it. She covered her face and turned to the door. She walked unsteadily forwards until her hand met the glass of the door that had become warm from the eager breath of the faces on the other side.
She groped to her right until she found the material of a curtain. She pulled it across the doorway and finally let her sketchbook fall from her face. She sighed and fell once again onto the seat, praying that those boys had not had enough time to see her face. But she knew they was probably going over it in their heads at that very second.
Both were.
One sat limply on the floor, with the same pain in his heart that all the boys were feeling now that that indescribable music had ended, and the same glassy-eyed look they all had.
His glasses had fogged up, and he removed them absent-mindedly, and gave the lenses a half-hearted rub.
Some of the mob remained staring fixedly at the curtained doorway, moaning and scratching at the door like neglected puppies. Some of the more strong-willed were being led gently away by their female friends, gibbering to themselves.
All he could think about was her face. Framed by waves of thick hair the colour of dark chocolate. Eyes as grey as the broiling waves of a sea storm and, he couldn't help but get the feeling, just as deadly.
The other boy that had seen Lorelei fought passionately with the handle of her door, lamenting at the simple piece of metal that stood between him and that girl. That girl…
That girl with the hair you could run your fingers through for the rest of your life. That girl with the eyes you could gaze for an eternity. That girl with an embrace you would kill for. Die for.
