S E E K I N G S H A D O W S I N S U N L I G H T
Prologue—Polynomial Castles

I heard of a man who heard of a man
who'd heard from a woman saying
I can't hear what I'm hearing
but I hear it's your undoing.
When carpenters hammer
and chisel your glamour
I will lend you a tool
(and carve sculpture.)
Kindness can be cruel.
—Kindness Can Be Cruel, Mary Fahl

A room—one obviously belonging to one of those stereotypical fantasy geeks who refused to grow up. Stuffed animals littered little nooks in the walls, and books tumbled out of overladen shelves. A single tasteful Escher print adorned one wall; it was probably the most thing in the place. But at least this room's occupant appeared to have some justification for her fantasies.

Monsters and goblins and other supernatural errata danced inside the room to an inaudible music that everyone could hear clearly in their brain. Oddly—perhaps magically—enough, from the beat of their dance it appeared that they'd all imagined the same tune.

The room wasn't precisely large to begin with, and so it was naturally rather crowded. Because of this, the loud thumps from dancers hitting the walls were probably inevitable. And perhaps the magic could cancel some of the noise out. That was what the girl thought; or hoped, anyway.

She was the only human in the room; strange, for this human world, but then again she was a strange girl. Her hair was long; the norm for her time favored shorter. It was also a deep black, when the times loved blondes. Her hair could be taken as an early warning sign of her tendency to misfit in, to never quite understand the social—or fashion—rules of her contemporaries.

And then above the thumping and the inaudible music she somehow managed to catch the sound of a car decelerating, pulling into a driveway. Her driveway, more specificallly. Soon enough a door slammed downstairs and upstairs came the sound of footsteps.

Sarah! What's that horrible noise in your bedroom? It'll wake the baby! yelled a female voice from outside the girl's closed door. Sarah whisper-yelled a quick to her monster guests; luckily, they obeyed. With a quick flurry of cloth they disappeared into her sheets; or else they ducked behind the toychest or dresser or desk. It seemed impossible that they'd managed to compress themselves into such small hiding places. Sarah peered into her bedclothes in puzzlement, to figure out the trick. But the monsters had disappeared.

It was a lucky thing, too, as half a moment later her door was thrown wide open by her stepmother. You're still dressed! she said, continuing her harrangue. It's past midnight! I'm sorry we're a bit late, but that's still no excuse to dance around making a racket to knock the house down—or wake Toby. I know you resent your little brother but surely you can show him that much consideration! Now get dressed for bed. It's well past time.

Sarah gave her stepmom an annoyed look. So nothing had changed, really, even if monsters had been jumping on her bed a few minutes before. Even if for those few shining moments she'd had friends, she'd loved her family—and stepfamily—and she'd known what to do, nothing had really changed. She was still Sarah Williams, she with the perpetually aggravating and aggragvated stepmother. At least her half-brother had quieted down.

Perhaps the Goblin King had been a good influence on him, Sarah thought as she gathered her nightclothes. But she dismissed the thought immediately after. He wasn't a part of her life, anymore; best to confine him to those thirteen surreal hours. The others would be all right to see again.

With impeccable timing, an owl suddenly fluttered outside her window. One eye was blue, the other brown.

Get out! Sarah whispered harshly at the bird. You have no power over me. Leave, you... you... She glanced at the nightdress in her hand. Peeping Tom, she ended venomously.

Now, now, no need to be angry. I've done no worse than your friends. The voice seemed to echo from above her, though the owl still flapped just beyond the windowpane.

Just as generous as them, you've been? she replied, continuing her whisper with a touch of sarcasm.

No need to spit, either. Not when you can do far worse to me easily enough.



My generosity does have its limits. You should know how already, at any rate. Use that lovely imagination of yours. The owl flew off, with an offended flick of its left wing. And I can see I still have some power over you.

Use my imagination. You and your cursed cryptic phrases, Sarah muttered to herself. Then she smiled, and began working the puzzle out aloud. Lovely imagination.' If I can do nothing else, I'll spite him at least—I shan't use my imagination.

Sarah dug around near her bed for a while before pulling a math textbook from beneath its dust-skirt. I'll study. That seems to be the least imaginative thing I can do. She eyed the textbook wryly. How generous of him, helping my grades this way.

Sarah pulled the nightshirt on, warily eyeing the window all the while lest the Goblin King return. She then tucked herself in bed, and managed three pages of algebra before falling asleep with xes and ys and swirling around in her head. For the first time in her life, she dreamed of polynomials rather than castles. It was rather a triumphant feeling.

~*~
to be continued, cries the scary music of DOOM.

A/N: Well, a dear friend of mine re-watched Labyrinth recently, and started looking for fanfic, and made me read said fanfic, which made me re-watch it myself, and while I had resolved previously not to write anything you can see how easily a decent-sized plotbunny can trample resolutions of that sort. Further chapters will be a fair bit longer and deal with more interesting topics—expect quite a few of them. But I needed to set this bit up first off. Significant J/S in store but note that I love to toy with characters' minds...