A/N: You should be thankful that I remain unnoticed by certain someones...
But I must hurry. So, read, and thank you for the reviews once more. Haven't had this kind of audience since Surviving the Sues.
Chapter 3:
Jess skidded to a halt at the fork, and made to go down the usual way, clothed in darkness peppered with torchlights so the patrols could actually see. But she halted, and looked curiously down the darker, mustier passageway that nobeast came near. Hesitant, unusually so, she tip-toed down the corridor.
A chill washed over her, making her neckfur stand on end. Quivering, she took one more step and squeezed her eyes shut when the cold suddenly seemed to halt, and slowly turned to warmth. Her eyes snapped open, suspicion and amazement washing through them. Steps a little surer, she walked over to the thing hanging in the hall.
Cocking her head, she saw that whilst the rest of the area was dusty, the…tapestry…was not. It seemed well cared for, unlike what slaves would do. But why would the Chosen look after a hanging of a mouse?
Stepping a little closer, she peered at the beautiful embroidering, the vermin fleeing, the mouse proudly standing in the middle, leaning on a sword as though he hadn't a care in the world. Looking up, she cocked her head, some of the cruelty fleeing her every moment she was in the presence of this warrior. He seemed to smile sadly, seemed to look straight at her…
Feeling slightly overwhelmed, she stepped back a little, eyes still wide with wonder. The mouse looked like…like a true Chosen…
A small shaft of sunlight found its way through a crack in what she now realized was once a window, barricaded with stones. On impulse, she walked over and knocked one out, where it fell to the ground below. The beam was larger now, and illuminated the tapestry…
"..and the light that filters in,
Signals the day shall now begin…"
Shaking her head, she…saluted... at the mouse. But it was a bit stricter, more uniform, than the sloppy gesture she had given the Chosen. Then she ran off.
The mouse's smile lost a little of its sadness.
''-''-''
The shrewwife was clearly an inch from death, shivering and not moving from her rocking chair as Jess approached her. But even then, her old eyes sparkled with open menace.
"Gi' o'er 'ere, m'li'l one,
For I'll add t'yore cruel life,
Gi' o'er ere, y'wretched soul,
Com', an' gimme yore name."
Shivering mentally, Jess came closer and spoke roughly to hide the eerie feeling she felt. "Ol' hag, your brain's have gone down dead. Whaddya need."
The witch only cackled.
"An' so I will,
When giv' yore name,
But only 'till,
Y'giv' yore name."
Feeling a little creeped out, Jess sighed and turned around. "I'm not botherin' t'put up with ye."
"An' if ye go,
M'li'l one,
I will strike low,
M'li'l one."
Jess would have punched her jaw gladly, were she not afraid of touching the grimy fur and becoming sick in the head like the shrewwife. "Stop i', witch!"
She giggled.
"Gi' o'er 'ere, do as I say,
Unto yore heart th'darkness preys,
Gi' o'er 'ere, gimme yore name,
And let me read who you're bane."
Curious despite herself, Jess came forward. Quickly, the shrew latched onto her arm, and cackled.
"Now, m'fish, m'wee li'l wretch,
Th'jaws tha' bi', th'claws tha' catch,
I'll now read who you're bane,
An' give yore soul its real name."
The shrew went rigid for one second, as if caught by a memoyr, and snarled. "No!"
Jess jerked her paw away and drew it back to hit her, but the shrew became suddenly active and stood, madness dancing in her eyes.
"Y'be Jess! I know i'be, I know i'!"
The mousemaid was puzzled, and the shrew went back to her mad-filled rhymes.
"Th'li', i'burns, th'li', i's cruel,
Washes 'way darkness's sacred rule,
Th'li', go gone, th'li, begone,
For i's you who's truly wrong."
The mousemaid drew her brow together.
The shrew launched herself at her just as a Chosen appeared in the doorway, clawing and scratching at her muddied face.
"Begone, ye witch, ye crueles' thing,
Begone, take 'way th'li' ye bring,
Begone, I say, le'me g'back,
T'darkness's sacred li'ful lack."
She gouged a scar down her forehead and a welt on her ear before the Chosen was able to pull her off. But the excitement had sent the wife's heart beating too fast, too long, and she lay gasping on the floor, saying one last thing.
"And s'as Night comes t'an end,
W'wait for sky's eve'tual bend,
From light t'dark, but not t'light,
Cast th'earth in endless night."
She let out one last breath, and Jess watched in disbelief as the shrew died. She herself breathed heavily, and one look at the Chosen's calculating stare was unnerving.
Things were about to change.
She could feel it.