A/N: I just wanted to thank everyone who reviewed, including…
Poppyclover: I'm glad you were excited; I was looking for a story to read about her, when I saw none! I love her, so I decided to write this!
Anthea Triton: Thank you so much!
Dandelion Oak: I really appreciate your thoughts on this, and I'm pleased to know you're enjoying it!
Nipah-Chan: I promise I'll try to keep it up, haha! Thank you!
You all have been a blessing!
Mr. Whistler's old fingers came crashing down on the instrument. He played furiously, with a passion she had not seen before. The intense music found its way to her very core as she realized that she was alone on this ship. True, she had always been alone, even in some trying circumstances, but never so much as to strike fear into her.
People rushed into the theatre again, indignant and frustrated. They began shouting at Oswald for his carelessness.
But Amelia couldn't hear them. Her thoughts dwelled on the famous composer as well. She wondered why he would bring her on this ship, with people she never knew, in a circumstance completely surreal to her logical thinking. If he was so focused on his dead daughter, where was his mind? Did he have any foreknowledge of this? Perhaps he was simply along with the ride.
The music stopped.
She placed a hand over her beating heart, and watched as a funny dressed man accosted Oswald suspiciously. "Mr. Whistler," his accent was regal and rich like the way he dressed. "You are the one behind this opera. Tell me; are you also behind this deadly game?"
The famous musician stood ominously and stiffly at his bench and replied "I was asked to compose an opera," he turned to glare down at the short man. "That is all."
"Hmph. So you say." the small man didn't seem at all fazed by the level stare Mr. Whistler gave him, and only turned his head to the side, eyeing Oswald carefully.
Amelia made her way to stand in front of the stage. She didn't want to miss anything.
"Ladies and gentlemen, now that we're all passengers together on the Crown Petone, it is time for our little puzzle solving game...to begin."
"Puzzle solving?" she repeated softly. Wasn't that what the man with the top hat was known for? It seems as though she had competition.
She took in a breath to clear her mind.
"The rules are very simple. The winner-meaning the last player left-receives eternal life."
Amelia felt a flicker of annoyance inside of her. They knew this already. She began pulling at her hair to calm herself.
"Let us begin...puzzle number 001. Look around you ladies and gentlemen. Look for the oldest thing you can see. Gather by it. Sounds simple, but there is a catch"
The stage lit up again, and there was a sound of machinery cranking. From the stage rose a giant punched card, like you would see in a musical box.
Amelia wondered briefly if Oswald had invented it.
It began playing.
"When the music stops your time is up, if you want eternal life...then there is no time to waste."
Naturally, the people around her frantically scattered in different directions. They didn't take the time to just stop and think. The only ones that did got the answer right.
She knew the answer already, thanks to her Granddad.
She was crying. Again.
"What's wrong, Amelia?"
She looked up at her Grandfather, her eyes puffy and red. She was only six. Six year olds shouldn't be crying this hard. She felt a strong warm hand on her shoulder, and someone tilted her chin up.
"Dear, dear Amelia...Won't you tell your granddad why you're crying?"
She sniffled, and hiccupped slightly, trying to choke out her words. "Daddy—daddy calls me m—mean things...and mommy gets yelled at t—too!"
As soon as she said it her small face contorted and she burst into a fit of tears again.
Her Grandpa tried desperately to shush her, but she grabbed onto his pant legs and tugged.
He lifted her onto his hip and chuckled "I'm getting too old for this, you know."
Amelia's wails simmered down to a slight blubbering noise as she buried her face into his neck, and listened to the sound of a smile in his voice.
Suddenly he had an idea.
"Do you know what's older than me, Amelia?"
She was silent for a moment or two, but he knew she was thinking.
"A tyrannosaurus Rex."
He laughed. "Of course, but let's try something older, larger even."
She paused, slowly bringing her head up to face his, staring intently at him with blank eyes.
But he knew she was trying to figure him out and her wide eyes blinked when his crinkled happily.
"I wanna hint."
"A hint?"
She nodded.
"Well, then...let's see..."
He began to hum a little tune to her, and as he went on her eyes began to widen in recognition.
Then she tossed her head back and stared in wonder at the stars.
"But grandpa...are you sure? You're so old!"
He laughed "that's beside the point. Amelia, when you're feeling down, will you promise me...to look up?"
She giggled and nodded.
He smiled. Children were so resilient.
"So what's older than me?"
She spread her hands out wide "The stars!" she exclaimed.
"That's right," he said, "The stars."
"Ladies and Gentlemen, your time is up. The oldest things you can see are the stars above you. To those of you in the theatre, congratulations. You can continue. To those of you who got it wrong..."
Amelia tried to block out their screams, noticing fleetingly that Mr. Whistlers adopted daughter had returned, and was sitting by his side.
Then she looked back to the sky.
A/N: I know it's short, but I was a little hesitant…again thank you to those who reviewed! I'm glad you like it! I'm always up for some advice to improve my writing, so if you have any, I will take it greedily :3