Disclaimer: Yes, I include a personalized disclaimer in every chapter! It's just my little way of saying I care about not getting sued…
Pheonix
Sarah stood nervously before the store mirror and smoothed her annoying skirt. She hated it. She hated the whole outfit…but it was a requirement for attendance at her new school. It would have been more bearable if the jumper skirt and shirt weren't made out of cheap wool dyed a horrid green plaid…or at least if it didn't itch so…her fretting earned her a green smeared hand as the dye leeched into her sweaty palms.
What a wonderful way to start at a new school; especially a private school. She tried to unobtrusively wipe her hands on anything nearby, but it was no use…she was as green palmed as a forest sprite. She leaned forward to stick her tongue out at the mirror a seven year old forest sprite trapped here…she giggled at her reflection. That noise snared her father's attention. He started to bang loudly on the dressing room door, as if maybe he was a policeman and she escaping criminal. It wouldn't be far from the truth.
Demurely, she opened the door and stood with her eyes lowered to her clasped hands. Her father's shoes poked into her line of view and circled her, right to left, for a full minute. She held her breath and watched the purple spots begin to appear around the edges of her vision…
After a moment, the circling stopped and her father spoke to her "Alright, it will do for my little baby. She looks like a little lady in that…"
The sales clerk poked her shiny black high heels into view and said in a saccharine voice "Oh yes sir! I can have it boxed up for you the moment the young miss steps out of it!"
"Very good. Sarah, honey…go change out of that. You'll be wearing it again soon enough…sarah?"
Sarah didn't hear him. She was still holding her breath. The purple spots had started dancing forming strange symbols that she thought she knew…intent on studying them, she neglected to breathe. The purple grew to a dark maroon and began to encompass her whole sight. She watched, bedazzled as they spun into one long line, waving and curling into strange, made up words : Secroma lon megris, vira secromas… Then the purple was shot through with emerald sparks and the writing disappeared in a fireworks display as her head hit the floor.
* * * * *
She woke up in the hospital, Lancelot tucked next to her cheek. She recognized the room, she had been here often. The nurse named Louise smiled at her and went to get her father. He walked in, full of false concern, red cheeked and blustering about an allergic reaction to the dyes in the skirt. After the first sentence, Sarah tuned him out, focusing on the amber depths of Lancelot's glass eyes. After a time, his speech grew softer and then she started to listen again.
"…anyway, they say you'll be fine for you first day of school tomorrow. You'll like Gina's school…she raises the best."
But daddy…I want to go to the school at the corner, the one with the trees…That remark had gotten her slapped and the comment "So you can be just like your slut mother?!" So she kept her peace and stopped arguing, and now he expected her to be excited. She pasted a smile to her face and turned towards him "I can't wait"
* * * * *
Father dropped her off at the front gate and promised to pick her up after her lessons. She watched him drive off then hitched Lancelot firmly under her arm. The gates themselves were imposing, more suited for a prison than a school. Their black iron bars sent a chill down her spine and even the sound as the wind rustled through them was that of despair.
She didn't know why she was afraid, but the minute she stepped into the courtyard, the sun seemed cold rather than warm. The grey gravel stones crunched loudly under her feet, and then suddenly shifted under her. She fell and scraped her knees painfully. Blood oozed through her white tights and down her legs. Whimpering she tried to see what rock had turned, but all she saw was pale granite, with bits of micah.
The gravel drive seemed a river that hid it's malice beneath a façade of respectability. The sun chose that moment to conquer it's cowardice and creeped from behind a cloud and sent a chill beam o ligt to the little child. The micah blazed in a cold fire for a moment, reminding her strongly of glass shards…mirrors…butthen the sun hid and all that remained was a little girl, sitting on a drive way and swiftly getting tardy.
* * * * *
After a moment of strengthening her resolve, she braced herself, and rose to her feet. Then, showing no sign of pain, she stepped through the front door of the school. The entranceway was deserted, every student in their class. So she walked softly down the hall to the place that the principal had interviewed her father. She knocked timidly on the door and stepped in. A severe woman was seated behind an immense desk. Her brown hair was pulled back in a tight bun, and she sneered down her long nose at the mongrel that dared to bleed on her rug.
"May I help you?"
"Yes. My name is Sarah, this is my first day…"
"Ah yes. Well, you are late for your first class and I cannot allow you to disturb your classmates. You will remain in the outer hall until you see the classes change."
Sarah nodded politely and left, to shiver in the cold marble hallway. After a few moments, she pulled her teddy into her lap and started to whisper. "I heard father talking to the principal…she said that every girl who comes here becomes an…impec…impor…impeachable person who knows her duties. That made father happy. I wonder why she runs a school when she doesn't like kids….it doesn't make sense…" There was a metallic clink and a line of girls, all dressed in the awful plaid, filed out of a nearby room. The woman leading them took one look at Sarah, sniffed, and kept walking. The girls did the same.
Shrugging to herself, Sarah followed. They were led into another room, full of straight backed chairs of cold, hard wood. There, another spinster lectured them on posture. Since the other girls were taller, and had taken the front seats, Sarah managed to avoid notice for sometime, but her luck didn't hold.
The woman swooped down upon her like some giant bat shrieking "And proper ladies do not cling to toys such as that ragged thing." Her claw like hands tried to steal Lancelot.
Sarah opened her mouth wordlessly and refused to let go. The teddy sat securely in her lap as the other girls guffawed behind politely raised hands. She felt her ears burn. The teacher ordered her out to the principal. Clutching Lancelot tightly, she obeyed.
* * * * *
The principal was not happy to see her again so soon. She tapped her long, poisonous green nails on the desk and glared at her. "Mrs. Felps tells me that you refused to listen to her."
She nodded mutely.
"Why is that?"
"She…she wanted to take Lancelot away…"
"Ah the doll thing you have there…"
"Yes ma'am."
"Well, hand it over."
Again, Sarah refused. The principal sighed and walked around the desk until she stood in front the quivering child. "It was not an option. You will give me that…toy."
Sarah tried to back away, the great, green nails reached down to caress her face, her throat. Then, in a viperish blur, Sarah was backhanded, her head whipping around, followed by her body, to the floor. Lancelot tumbled from her arms and rolled haphazardly across the floor to land in a disgraceful heap. A swift kick to her stomach made her curl up and moan as the principal picked up Lancelot. Then the cold gaze was once more upon Sarah. "Here children learn to obey. You will no longer need this. Get up! Follow me…"
The principal, who Sarah was swiftly beginning to believe was a witch, marched through several halls, then a flight of stairs that went down. Then they were in a long, dank room full of shadows. At the end was a large, fire belching monster of pipes and grates. Into this, the witch tossed Lancelot…Sarah screamed, long and loud as his furry hide began to smolder then flame. Then the words were before her eyes again, and she fainted.
* * * * *
After that day, Sarah went to school and sat, silent as a statue in every class. She never bickered or spoke out of turn, and yet the teachers always found a reason to fault her. She had quite a collection of bruises by the end of a week, after a month, she was glad that she was wearing a coat to hide the cuts and welts. Her father was thrilled at the change in her…Sarah had never hated a place more.
* * * * *
Telvris clenched his fists in impotent fury upon hearing the story his friend, Vree, formerly called Lancelot in another form, told him. "Such a place as you describe would kill the spirit of anyone…her "father" couldn't do it himself so he sent her off to someone who could…this must be remedied. And Vree, my dear friend, you must go back to her. A power such as her cannot be left unguarded…"
Vree inclined his head "Yes, I know…but she saw my other form burn…"
"You are her only friend…she will not question your apparent survival and return…"
"Perhaps. But she is a bright one…takes after her father in that regard…"
Telvris pulled the young fae lord into a tight embrace "What over her for me Vree, watch over her…"
"I will my lord, I will."
* * * * *
Sarah awoke on a bleary Monday morning and prepared to change into her school…no, prison, uniform. She drew the garments slowly over the livid injuries with a hissing breath. Then she sat before her dressing table to brush her hair. The brush fell from her numb fingers as she saw what was perched on her table as if she had carelessly placed him there herself…Lancelot sat on his side, watching her with his dancing eyes. She clutched him, and for the first time in a month, cried.
When she was dry-eyed once more, she heard her father enter. He seemed to be anxious about something. "Sarah, honey…you won't be going to school today…it's seems there was an accident…a gas main blew…everyone that they've pulled out of the wreckage is dead…thank god that we were off to a late start…" Her father hugged her then left to go to work.
Sarah looked down at Lancelot's twinkling eyes with a puzzled frown. "Lancelot…the school didn't have gas. They had a furnace and heating pipes…" For a moment, fire and carnage was reflected in Lancelot's glass eyes, then Sarah smiled and hugged him close.
* * * * *