His
A Place, part two
Once upon a time…
It didn't stay that way, the cave with the over glaring lights, the dungeon walls, the open circular rooms that were nothing but sculpted carved dens filled with frameless beds and empty space. It was practically a tomb. For a time, she forgot it existed, like the castle they lived in, the bedroom lost somewhere within it. Actually, she never really knew where that was exactly. Except for the fact that she last left it near the throne room, the precise location of the bedroom wasn't something she ever sat down to document. But that's neither here or there.
Once upon a time…
Things happened, events that she could scarcely remember: the telling of stories, of lions and wizards and mice and men and beasts and beauties and berserks and warlocks and—no. Those are wizards. Are they wizards? With each event, the room changed.
A pool was added. It could at one time turn people into gold. Whether if it could still do that remains to be seen. Regardless, she knew—knows—knew for a fact that the water was distinctly dangerous. In the words of Aragorn son of Arathorn, it was always the best probable action to not "disturb the water." It settled in the back of the main room, its edge a clear circle of dark liquid blocking off the furthest stone wall. The glaring lights had vanished. They'd dimmed so much that she couldn't even see the water let alone the wall. All she could see was just the rippled peaks of the tide, each wrinkle reflecting the soft bleak glow of the crystal illuminating the wall's murky center. It was a star in the darkness, red at times, blue in others. Green maybe white, it was something left over from a Harry Potter film. That's the hypothesis. Again, she wasn't sure. The beginning is always hazy.
The adjoining rooms had also changed.
Once upon a time…
The main room was no longer the main room. There was one door off to the side that led through a hall, through a dark corridor to a comfortable den which was called the Library. It was also circular, its stone walls chiseled smooth and round though you couldn't see them. This room was also dark, save for the orange glow of the fireplace. The wall that divided this room from the hall with the pool was lined in books, in bookcases that curved inward. They were split in the center by an elegant simple fireplace overflowing with a flame that was both warm and eternal. The light never dimmed. Even when it was replaced years later, that light never left. Soft as it was, it only lit half of the room. It never climbed up the walls to the high ceilings or the opposite wall where the exit was. It did, however, if you looked close enough, revealed the outline to another door, a secret door resting just inside the left column frame of that grand simple hearth, the predecessor of something brighter, grander and much more sacred.
The secret passage weaved through the wall a corridor to the left and a corridor to the right. Mirrored twins of each other, both found stairs that climbed up towards two trap doors, again one to the left and one to the right. One side led to a hiding spot, the comfortable lap of one large cherub-sphinx statue carved out of the wall of the Library. Thus, there were two statues in total, one on either side of the fireplace. Left. Right. Left. Their feet rested just above the tall wide bookcases. From there, she could look down and see everything, and no one below could ever see her. Well, no one but one. He always knew where she was. But that's to be expected.
The other side led to a hallway that led to a bedroom (on the right) also rarely used and mimicked pixel by pixel the red bedroom from a certain computer game. But she'd never tell you that, not out loud anyway, not even to tell you that the game's name was Myst. Never Ever. Throw away the key.
Once upon a time…
There was a door on the left of that hallway. There was a plain door, a wooden door, and once opened it would immediately reveal blue-green leaves and dark white light. If you stepped out, your feet would find a balcony, a stone high-rise that led to stairs which curved down a tower tall enough to house the one thing hidden within it: a tree, soft, tall and expressly fruitless. At one time, an owl lived in it. Grass always grew around its base. It was tainted a vivid green due to the lack of light seeping through a hole in the ceiling, tinted white, tinted a soft damp blue. Its roots also hid a hiding spot, a dark hole, a deep hole. Yet, even there He could find her. He could always find her, though you wouldn't easily notice.
At the ground floor, another door existed, linking back to the Library. It was the mirror opposite of the door leading to the pool and crystal.
Once upon a time…
This was her life, these four rooms. She lived here. She'd die here and it was here where their lives started.
Run Sheep Run
Once upon a time, there was a shepherd and a pasture and a flock and a sheep, a lamb which was His and His alone.
Once upon a time, she looked out through the fence of her little home in the light, in the son[Sun], and viewed the darkness outside. She saw eyes, fangs and teeth.
Most sheep would have cowered, most would have been fearful of the dark fur that seemed to glisten in the moon lit night on that other side, at the muscular body and the murderous intent, the hunger embedded in its gleaming cyan streaked eyes. But the sheep, knowing the danger, felt neither fear nor alarm. Well, a little alarm, not that she would admit this really. Never Ever. Throw away the key. The sheep, knowing the consequence, felt neither fear or alarm but desire and admiration.
"What a creature," she said. "So strong. So alive. So…"
The wolf grinned and left stalking away knowing that the sheep watched its every move, staring as he disappeared into the darkness, disappeared almost completely. She liked that.
Only for a moment did she turn back looking around. No one was looking. Cross her fingers. No one saw her, she thought, climb under that easily escapable fence and follow. Never Ever. No one saw her leave nor noticed she was missing. No one but one. He saw her leave. He always knew.
Sorry for the mistakes, I just can't keep correcting them. Thank you for your indulgence. Calla