"There are no limits to either time or distance, except as man himself may make them. I have but to touch the wind to know these things" - Hal Borland.
"I so shouldn't be doing this... It's against every little voice inside my head, against everything I feel it's right and safe, and against better judgment... I am crazy, I finally lost it..." Augustine muttered to no one as the bus she was on bounced and shook a little. She was seated alone, her backpack lying on the seat next to hers, and the notorious blue book in her hands, opened. Her eyes roamed through the pages, as if she was drinking life from them. Her hands grasped the book like if she thought it was going to escape her clutch and fly away from her somehow. She wore her school uniform, which made her look even younger than she really was. Her pixie-like features were contracted into a frown as she read a riddle.
'As fast as light, the bearer of luck,
I cross the heavens with all my sparks'
"I cross the heavens with all my gals? What's that supposed to mean?" she wondered aloud, her frown deepening. She sighed and tried to analyze de situation, making sure that the riddle wasn't some kind of word-game or anagram... And then she started doing associations.
"Sparks... Like fireworks, or glitter... Stars maybe. Yes stars… or shooting stars. No! A comet, shooting through the night sky, with his tail full of sparks and... If you wish something when you spot a comet your wish comes true, so comets are lucky, and they sure look like thy are as fast as the light itself" she muttered, a triumphant smile on her crimson lips that contrasted shockingly with her pale skin. She continued reading then, with a crystalline very child-like voice that was so characteristic on her:
"A comet" Anne guessed instantly. She smiled to herself; she was close to find the words to summon the Damned. And when she did that, she would prove she was smarter and better than him. She would show everyone that had humiliated and underestimate her... Yes, she was quite a vindictive one and she would have her revenge... At a very high price, of course"
Her Discman was playing Frank Sinatra this time and his booming voice hypnotized the girl as she drawled the lyrics of 'Strangers in the Night' with an enchanting accent. She could almost picture his posture and the way he moved his mouth, for she had seen him sing that song on TV a lot. She had taped all the concerts they had passed each day on the anniversary of his death, but she had been too young when he had been among the living and young, singing on stage. She would have loved to see him perform, but she had to content herself with just hearing to his music, which was sort of a consolation prize.
Someone elbowed her on the ribs suddenly and she looked up to find her little brother looking at her and rolling her eyes.
"Time to get off the bus, dumb" he said, pointing at the window. Augustine scowled but then looked out and realized he was right and cursed under her breath, stuffing the book she had been reading into her back and scrambling to her feet, an apologetic look on her face.
"Thanks, kiddo" she muttered sheepishly while her brother rolled his eyes yet again and shook his head.
"You'll never change" he muttered to whoever was listening and then hopped off the bus with his two sisters.
"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" a voice drawled languidly, bearing a strong and charming British accent. The taunting voice belonged to a tall, imposing man sprawled gracefully in a magnificent throne made of red gold with parts of dragons carves such as faces, teeth and menacing claws. The room he was in was huge and so very quiet. There were dragons of all kinds there: stone dragons, which were always sleeping, ice dragons, with eyes as sharp as sword blades, tiny nature dragons, with their green body and colorful eyes, little and uncontrollable air dragons that looked like oversized bugs with large, pointed teeth, magnificent fire-night dragons, which there silver or midnight-blue scales and shining eyes, water dragons with their aquamarine scales and their bodies that looked almost liquefied, every race of dragon was represented there, the air dragons playing tag with their nature pals, the night dragons discussing in some strange language that sounded like grows and howls with the stone dragons and the rest just doing whatever they pleased. It was their kingdom, after all.
There were a couple of other creatures such as bunch pale-looking vampires that were playing poker in a corner. A group of centaurs were discussing something, pointing at a celestial chart and sometimes stomping, furious. Some meters away a pair of pixies, the two of them wearing big glasses, carried some books towards another part of the castle, while they conversed in their high-pitched voices, that were reduced a mere whisper, for the king had asked for silence, and silence was what their subjects would give him.
The King was currently twirling something between his fingers, the movement seeming so natural that they barely noticed it. The crystal ball was dull, opaque but it was just because it hadn't been used... yet.
"Whisper in her voice, whisper a thousand times what laid written in those pages..." he ordered plainly, and the orb began to glow with an ethereal, fragile light that lit up the whole room. Soon, from the depths of the crystal ball, came a young, child-like and yet wise voice:
"He had fought hard, he had defied everything and everyone for an answer to his questions and finally, after dangers untold and hardships unnumbered he finally had an answer. Just one, but powerful enough to change the course of his life forever. With trembling hands he unfolded the paper containing the Wiseman's answer to the meaning of life. And what he read left him gasping and wide-eyed:
"Life is ironic, life is cruel,
We dream, we wish, we want,
And then, when we have,
When we have fought and won,
When we have sacrificed and lost...
We look around and discover...
That life's no more"
It was just a story, simple rambles of a dreaming mind and yet they struck a chord somehow. They were painfully filled with truth, with the kind of honesty that was hidden, ignored, the kind of sincerity that everyone fought hard to conceal. It wasn't bitter, it wasn't sad... It was simply... a statement.
"The meaning of life is that life is meaningless" Gareth whispered and chuckled cynically "What a daring statement to make, what a bold thing to say. And Hell, it couldn't be truer. But at least, the writter put it nicely" he stood up and walked towards a balcony. Gazing at his own majestic creation, a Labyrinth, he frowned "But no human mind should have the capacity to discover such a hidden knowledge. I should keep an eye on this little author, for it may prove to be an... amusing diversion" he smiled, showing his pointed fangs "And I am certainly in the mood for a good distraction"
A couple of centaurs directed their gazes at the figure lounging lazily on the throne and shivered, looking then at each other with uncertainty clear in their big dark eyes. The dragons began talking through telepathy, their only way of speaking that any other creature could understand, between the pixies and the other dragons, more curious than afraid of the menacing chuckle of their monarch and sovereign. They had lived far too long with their King to know what was happening. He had founded another soul to torment. And, tough they pitied the poor fellow that had caught King Gareth's attention, they were glad that the damned had centered his attention into a human and not them. Besides, it was always fun to watch.
The girl continued reading despite the warning bells ringing loudly inside her head. Her eyes roamed though the pages, hungry for power that they thought only those written sentences could satisfy. As she came near a little poem her heartbeat quickened and her breath came in ragged pants. Her eyes grew wide and she licked her lips before smiling ad reciting in her deep, woman-like voice:
'No... Don't say the words!' a voice echoed around her and Augustine dropped the book almost immediately, looking down at it with a mixture of horror and undeniable curiosity... Very much alike the one that killed the cat.
"Was that just my imagination? Am I loosing it finally?" she asked herself, trying to breathe normally and stop shivering.
'No, you are not... We exist, Augustine... We have always been with you, but we were too weak to let you know...' the voice carried on saying, sounding like a thousand crystalline voices speaking in unison. The red-haired girl clasped the book and looked at the air surrounding her, thankful that it was break time and no one was in the classroom with her.
"Who are you? What are you?" she pressed "I have always wanted to know that" she whispered in an almost pleading voice. The voice sighed always in perfect synchronization and starting to fade slowly...
'We are sorry but... We can't... continue... talking...' the voices muttered before fading, to Augustine's utter disappointment. She knew they wouldn't come back in a long time… Or at least, that was what she thought. She never took a moment to think about the little blue leather-bounded book that she stuffed into her backpack nonchalantly before exiting the classroom without glancing back.
What a pity…
"Sire, you are going to be late to your meeting with the High King of the Fae" a huge, silver-scaled, amethyst-eyed night dragon muttered telepathically, looking at the back of the King of his Race, who was hovering over some papers and old parchments with a frown plastered in his royal features. His hair was mussed and the shadow of a bear graced part of his face. His eyes were adorned with gold-rimmed spectacles that hid his both fiery and cold ruby and steel eyes and he didn't seem to notice his disheveled appearance at all. He turned to look at the dragon that had dared to speak to him while he was submerged in God only knows what important research and then he sighed when he saw Raphael he took off his spectacles and held all his anger back. Raphael, First Royal Advisor and Representative of the Dragon Race in the Underground Senate were one of the few creatures that the King of the Dragons actually respected and tolerated. He was the closest thing that the so called 'Damned' had for a friend and for an equal and many times, when the fury that only the oldest Fae twins (Jareth and Gareth) were capable of unleashing clouded the mind of his King he was one of the few that could of reason with him. The Dragon, a clear member of the nigh-dragon species, was almost as old as his monarch was, and as stubborn as a mule, qualities that made him an excellent opponent for his Majesty's temper.
"Is it really necessary, Raphael?" he asked tiredly, looking at the huge, imposing dragon with a hard stare. The creature seemed want to back away and let his Master and ruler continue with whatever he was doing, but he had a duty to fulfill, and he would fulfill it even if it cost him his life.
"You know very well as I do, Highness, that it's imperative for you to meet with the High King. You are, after all, his High Advisor and… his brother. Rumor is that he hasn't gotten over the 'Incident'" he muttered grimly, looking at his Liege almost reproachfully. Gareth, in return rolled his eyes and whispered in a worn-out voice, rubbing his temples:
"What has he done now, the idiotic fool?"
The monumental dragon snorted upon hearing High King Jareth, Ruler of the Fae, being referred to as the 'idiotic fool' but said nothing. He knew that, though King Gareth had deep respect for Jareth as brother and as Ruler, he also thought that his brother was impulsive and acted stupidly most of the time, that his boastfulness and haughtiness sometimes got the best of him and that he dressed a tad too theatrically. He himself wore medieval clothes, but instead of tights his legs were encased in breeches made of a thicker material than his brother's tights.
"Apparently, he has lost his temper yet again and tip an Ambassador from the Sylph Kingdom head first in the Bog of Eternal Stench, my Liege" he said with a deadly serious voice and was rather surprised when the Damned threw his head back and laughed his heart out. He seemed terribly handsome when he did that, a mixture of joviality and cynicism most appealing to women and for the millionth time the night-dragon wondered why his Monarch didn't have a female companion by his side.
"Well, at least now we now that all those times when he has threatened to do just that he wasn't bluffing" he retorted "And the Sylph must be hysterical! They are so mindful of their appearance, so vain…" he stopped laughing then and punched the oak table were he had been working and his face suddenly constricted into a cold mask.
"The bloody fool!" he muttered darkly "The Sylphs are never going to let this episode go. They are going to hold it against him for a long, long time" he murmured "He doesn't have a singe diplomatic bone in his damn body! This is going to cost me many sleepless nights to mend"
Raphael looked at his Sovereign with pity shining in his violet eyes. He knew that his King meant it when he said that he wouldn't sleep for nights but, after all, it was his duty. To keep knowledge and use it to help the High King as his Advisor. It was his course, and he was the Damned. There was nothing anyone could do to lift that curse from his body… or make it tolerable.
"I assume you'll go immediately. Shall I prepare the Pegasus carriage?" the dragon asked quietly. The mean of transport most preferred by noble Fae, apart from Teleportation and flying (if they had some way to procure wings for themselves like Jareth, whose heart-beast, an owl, allowed him to fly) was a carriage pulled by Pegasus. Those magical creatures, cousins of the noble unicorns, were a very diverse race. And while most Fae often settled for the Albine Pegasus (ivory white magnificent creatures with a good temper and a gentle air) King Gareth was famous for ridding what people loved to call the 'Hades chariot': a totally black carriage, adorned with spikes and sinister figures carved to the walls pulled by four of the fastest and most feared winged horses: four Umbrae studs, all with a black body that seemed to exude power, mane made of fire that changed from red to orange, violet and blue, depending on their moods and eyes with no pupils of a color that changed to match the color of their mane. They were beautiful creatures, but wild and untamed. And he loved them. They were called Cerberus, Lucifer, Dante and Ares, the most cruel of beasts. And yet, they obeyed Gareth's whip and his commands, as well as adore him… For some strange, unknown reason.
"No. I fear that if I were to drive the carriage I would demand too much of them and wear them out before we get to his palace. I think I'll just fly… Some fresh air might do me some good" he muttered absentmindedly as he grabbed some heavy protocol books and his spectacles from the table. Raphael sighed and shook his head, silently thinking that his Majesty needed something stronger than 'fresh air'. He watched as Gareth took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Something started moving beneath the skin of his back and, out of nowhere, to beautiful wings, of the same silvery-white tone of his hair, grew in his back. They were almost as huge as the monarch was and they framed his elegant, aristocratic body perfectly. It was one of the perks of being king of the Dragons. One could transform itself into a dragon or stop the transformation in order to make wings, claws, tail and everything appear without having to transform totally into a dragon. Quite useful.
He rose slowly from the floor, his wings flapping without any problem and he made a gesture with his left hand to make the huge balcony doors open and then he exited his castle, his silhouette lit up by the pale moonlight bearing a striking resemblance to ancient drawing of demons and other creatures of the night… And, in a way, he was that… A creature, a demon… A monster.
"Well class, I hope you've done your reading, that is exactly the topic of today's discussion" Hugh Aberline, Literature professor, said jovially, as if he had just proposed to do one of the funniest thing on Earth. Of course, nobody agreed with him.
There were loud groans from everywhere in the class as everyone reached for their copy of 'Midsummer Night's Dream' with lazy movements. Apparently they weren't happy about reading William Shakespeare before lunch. They were the kind of people that didn't seem to get any pleasure from indulging in the flourish sentences of the deceased English player. In simpler words, they didn't give a dam about him. Poor William…
"Let's begin with today's class" the professor continued merrily, grinning form ear to ear and showing rather cute dimples "Miss Archer, would you care to tell me something you've learned about magical creatures from those chapters?" he asked, looking at a dark auburn-haired, chocolate-eyed, rather voluptuous student wearing a skirt that was definitely shorter than what the school regulations allowed.
She turned her head from her nails, which she was painting with a deep violet nail polish, to look at him, as if acknowledging him for the first time since he had entered the classroom, ten minutes ago, and uttered a simple "Uh?"
The teacher patiently repeated the question and then Miss Archer finished painting her nails and answered while admiring her handiwork:
"Actually nothing. You see, yesterday I was so ready to sit down and read the whole play, I swear, but then I realized I had this appointment with my hair stylist. He is like THE hair stylist of New York, and he is like ALWAYS busy with important celebrities and it was obvious that I couldn't, like, not go to the appointment cause it would take like years to get another one so I went hoping to read later at night. But then, when I got back it was like eleven o'clock and you know, a girl needs her good beauty sleep so well, I was hoping that you could excuse me this time" she finished off her charming speech by popping a bubble with her chewing gum.
I took all of Augustine's will power not to laugh out loud and she held back only because she deeply respected the professor standing in front of the thirty students that constituted her Literature class. He was a good-natured man with a patience that seemed to know no end and a passion for the written words that matched the lithe red-haired girl's. He tried day after day to encourage his class to read and to love what they were reading, to see behind what it was obvious, to contemplate… to wonder. Simply to wonder. But they didn't seem to listen, and silently Augustine thought they never would. And it infuriated her to imagine the frustration and impotence her professor should feel every time some bubbly bimbo like Constance Archer gave a stupid excuse to be rid of his questions, disrespecting him all the way. But Mr. Aberline was a peaceful man and accepted Constance apologies yet again before asking another student.
They all gave excuses, some of them pathetically stupid, including the overused 'the dog ate my homework' with a twist (so it ended up being 'The dog ate my whole book and got really, really sick so I had to take him to the vet instead of buying another book or burrowing one') and some of them rather original (bordering the lines of 'my little baby brother stuck the book into the toaster and burned it to ashes' with the actual bag of ashes as a sort of exhibit A and photos of a darling, gurgling baby as exhibit B). Eventually very few people were left unasked and, before the poor forty-something man would pass through that embarrassment, a voice spoke softly:
"It was clear that magical creatures always want to be in control of situations, even love. And I think that Shakespeare meant to show people that love can't be controlled when King Oberon's plan backfired on him when Robin Goodfellow mistook Lisandro for Dimitrius and made him fall in love with Helena and forget about Hermia, who was sleeping by his side"
Professor Aberline's eyes went instantly to the first row of desk and , on the left corner, he spotted Augustine's petit form, her huge icy eyes staring at him with a glow that he knew came from her love for books.
"Very good observation, Augustine. Anything else you might want to share with the class? Another observation perhaps?"
The girl ignored the hurtful remarks Constance was whispering behind her and simply nodded.
"It surprises me how Shakespeare in all his plays makes men and women equal and doesn't consider female to be the weaker sex. This is clear when we read the verbal battles between King Oberon and Queen Titania. They fight as equals, as beings with the same amount of power. And there witty remarks really serve as a proof. Queen Titania obviously isn't afraid of speaking her mind" she said with a little smile "It's the same case in Much Ado about Nothing. Beatrice not only is as intelligent and as witty as Benedict, but she also ends up winning most of their verbal spars" she added, remembering how much she had laughed upon reading that particular play. Professor Aberline smiled fondly at her and replied:
"Excellent observations, Augustine. You really have a keen eye and a sharp mind. I am glad to see that you have benefited from my classes"
There were more sardonic commentaries from the rest of the class directed to the petit girl and whispered in hushed tones, and class went on.
"Such a good little teacher's pet. You don't surprise me one bit" Constance hissed from Augustine's back. The girl didn't turn so the other girl kept talking with her best friend and equal witch, Bianca Adams.
"She sounded like such a dork! With that childish voice she has, so annoying. And she is like always trying to please teachers. What a looser!"
Both girls giggled and professor Aberline looked sharply at them. His eyes then darted to Augustine, who was wearing a black expression on her face, though he noticed her hands where clenching the sides of her desk so tight that her knuckles were turning white.
"No boyfriend, no friends whatsoever… It's like No social-life. Maybe that's why she always has her nose buried in books. To avoid cruel harsh reality" Constance pressed, not yet ready to stop teasing the girl in front of her. Augustine turned, rolling her eyes, and looked directly to the snobby sophomore student and fellow classmate.
"You are obviously trying to piss me off and I am here to propose something. You try to say just one single sentence without the world 'like' in it and that it doesn't sound like just a pathetic attempt of your tiny little pink brain to say an actual witty remark and then I'll think about being pissed off. In the mean time you can just babble on and on, see if I care" she said plainly, her eyes sending shiver's running down the popular girl's spines. They were painfully reminded of the fact that Augustine wasn't the average 'docile and stuttering geek' but a rather spooky one.
"At least I'm not a lonely girl. At least I'm normal and no some error of mother nature" Constance hissed back, her fear quickly dissolving and leaving only a wounded pride and lots of anger.
Augustine was reddened speechless by the words 'normal' and 'error'. It was her soft spot, her only weakness. She hated to be reminded of the fact that she was different from the rest of the world. She hated when people and even her own family stared at her as if she was something strange and dangerous, something never meant to be.
"Bite me" she muttered through clenched teeth and then professor Aberline stepped in and asked what was going on.
"I was just commenting that it's unfair for us to be expected to, like, give the answers Augustine gives. After all it isn't our fault that we aren't gifted as she is. You can't just like blame us for being normal, healthy teenagers" Constance said aloud, gaining reproachful glares from everyone in the class. Most of the students were lazy, yes, but good-natured. Thy respected and even cared about the little red-haired, and more than one or two were starting to get tired of Constance attitude. Augustine's eyes shone dangerously before she turned to look at the noisy bimbo.
"What are you trying to imply?" she asked in a treacherously calm voice, her eyes flashing. The questioned girl replied innocently that she didn't know what she was talking about and then, sensing that the petit redhead was about t explode, Hugh Aberline stopped the girl's 'staring contest' and asked Augustine to fetch him a glass of water.
"Of course, professor" was all that she replied before stepping out of the classroom and then hitting a wall with her fist, that promptly started bleeding. In some way the blinding pain helped her focus on another thing apart from Constance's hurtful remarks. She had sworn long ago, when she had first discovered she was 'different' than the rest, that she wouldn't cry, and she was trying hard to keep that promise. She took a deep breath and didn't blink or move for about a minute. When she felt she was not going to cry she took a handkerchief from her pocket and bandaged her hand with it. The white cloth was promptly soaking with her blood but she didn't seem to mind. Behind her she heard footsteps but she dismissed them. Just another student excusing itself from class to go to the bathroom and smoke probably or write some stupid comment on the bathroom walls. She didn't notice that both female students got closer and closer till they grabbed her by the collar of her shirt, emptied a bottle of two liters of water all over her and dragged her towards a staircase.
"That's for molesting in class, you freak" they muttered before pushing her and sending her falling down and down. Augustine found herself at the bottom of the stairs, all bruised and scratched and soaking wet on top of it all. As her eyes surveyed a particularly big bruise in one of her forearms she whispered over and over: 'I must not cry… I must not cry'
"Jareth, for the love of the Underground, open up!" a voice boomed from outside of one of the goblin King's towers. The aforementioned King just looked at one of the double windows and motioned it to open. A very cold and definitely very tired Dragon King entered immediately, flapping his wings in a weary way and managing to land gracefully in the floor with soft thud.
"Whatever happened to you?" his brother asked upon seeing that his usual 'spiky' hairstyle had turned into a 'bird nest' hairstyle. Gareth just glared at him, crossed his arms over his athletic chest and spoke gravely:
"You must really have a death wish"
His brother held back the urge to laugh at the appearance of the Keeper of Wisdom and Master of the Powerful Dragons and settled from imitating his posture and arching an eyebrow, clearly expecting some explanation as for the presence of Gareth in his palace.
"I'm talking about your little accident with the sylph Ambassador, you lame excuse of a Ruler" the silver-haired man spat, hitting the surface of an oak table with his fist, miraculously doing himself no harm. Jareth didn't get upset upon being called 'lame excuse of a ruler'. He just shrugged and commented that the bigheaded, arrogant little sylph had just gotten on his nerves.
"So you simply dragged him towards the Bog and dumped him there?"
The High King frowned and tugged at his gloves before replying with a very offended tone of voice:
"I didn't 'dumped' him. I have more elegance than that. I simply…" he started saying when his twin cut him off.
"…tipped him head first, I know" he said jadedly "Everyone knows. You use that threat way too much, my dear sibling. The problem here is to ensure that the Sylph Race doesn't cut relations with you for what you did to their Ambassador that, by the way, was a really mature and diplomatic movement" he finished, his voice dripping with sarcasm. His brother shrugged yet again and Gareth suddenly had enough.
"Brother, she is just a mortal girl! Brave, I give you that, and yes, quite beautiful, but she is part of your past! Let it go, for the Sake of your Kingdom!" he yelled impulsively, regaining after that outburst his composure. Jareth looked at him with anger shinning in his mismatched eyes and said dryly:
"Don't mention anything related to Sarah in my presence"
Gareth muttered something under his breath and a chair went flying towards him. He sat down and started pulling out all the books he had brought with him about protocol. He opened them over the oak table he had hit earlier and motioned his brother to come to his side.
"We will find a way to get you out of the mess you have thrown yourself into. After all, that is what I do best" the Monarch of Dragons said lightly. For hours they were trapped there, in that rounded room in the top of the Eastern Tower of King Jareth's Castle, thinking, analyzing, reading, speculating and discussing with no avail. There was not a way out of their present predicament. Night gave way to the day, but Gareth knew that in his kingdom it was still as dark as if it were midnight. In his kingdom night lasted longer than day.
Suddenly inspiration struck the Dragon Ruler. He scribbled a couple of spells in a sheet of paper and then handed it to his brother.
"Take this to your High Healer as fast as you can. Tell him to follow the instructions of the spell carefully and to perform it as fast as he can" he said simply. His sibling arched and eyebrow and asked what the spell was.
"It's a memory spell. It will cause partial amnesia. The Ambassador won't remember anything about you dumping him into the Bog…" upon seeing his twin's angry glare he corrected himself "… tipping him head first, whatever. And the other spell is to get the smell out of him. From the point of protocol, there is no way out of this diplomatic mess, so we will have to use the other way: magic"
The King of the Goblins snorted and replied that, if it was that easy he would have figured it out himself.
"But they'll sense the spell. We cannot use magic on the ambassador. That is basic knowledge, Gareth" he told his twin harshly but the silver-haired Fae just rolled his eyes.
"This spell is untraceable, my brother. It is so ancient and so complex that doesn't live a mark" he replied with a sardonic and rather smug smile. His sibling looked at him wide-eyed and asked, totally surprised:
"How do you know that spell? I've never heard of a spell that doesn't leave marks"
Gareth smile became sad as he replied softly, yet clearly:
"They are called the silent Enchantments. People forgot about them after The War. A lot of knowledge was lost because of The War. But, of course, I still retain it. After all, I know everything"
There was no hint of sadness or pain in his voice, but Jareth knew better than to be deceived by his twin's calm exterior. But there was nothing he could do to help his brother, and he knew Gareth would be too proud to accept his help anyway.
"Well, it's settled then. Maybe you would want to stay and chat a little. You would be a good change from all the senseless conversation the goblins provide" he commented while he kicked a random subject of his with the tip of his leather-encased left foot. The twin frowned a little.
"What about Lady Dalila? Doesn't she provide you interesting conversation?" he taunted, arching an eyebrow. The King of the Goblin had the decency to turn a slight shade of pink before answering:
"She is full of… nothing. Nothing at all. Her little chit-chat is amusing most of the time but…" he stopped then, as if regretting was he had been about to say. But Gareth knew all too well what those words were.
'…but she isn't Sarah. That's the problem, isn't it Jareth?' he thought 'My Goodness, this girl is really something but, how can anyone become such a slave for another person?' he wondered then 'I'll never make such a fool of myself he promised.
Oh, if he had only known how soon he was about to brake his promise…
"I whish to cease, I wish to end, I wish the Damned would take us away…Right Now!" a voice echoed in the middle of the room were the two sibling were standing. Gareth raised his gaze to look at the ceiling of the room, startled. Then he looked apologetically at his brother and sighed.
"Seems I got work to do, brother, so we'll just have to postpone out little conversation" he started to fade, undergoing the cross to Aboveground when he added for good measure "and please brother, do me a favor and restrain yourself from dumping people in the Bog"
The last thing Gareth heard before leaving the Underground was the voice of his twin, saying harshly:
I DO NOT dump people! I tip them head first, which is an entirely different thing!"
"She's been out there far too long, professor. I don't like this one bit" Mercedes, a blonde, tall and very kind student sitting on one of the desks in the front row said, concerned. She was as good as a lamb, and a girl who seemed to see good in every people she met. Professor Aberline nodded, staring at the classroom door, hoping that it would open to reveal his tiny little red-haired student carrying a glass of water, but it just didn't happen. The door remained closed and the student waited and waited, hearing the clock above the blackboards ticking.
"The little freak probably got lost or something, we should just continue" Constance proposed but no one listened. Furious, the girl grabbed Augustine's backpack and started pulling out all her books and things, including her precious Discman, trying to find something to amuse herself with.
'There's nothing here. What a bore…' she thought grimly when her eyes fell to the bottom of the backpack, were single little leather-bounded book lay undisturbed.
"My, my, what have we got here?" she said in a singsong voice "The little brat reads children books!" she shouted loud enough fro all the class to hear "Books about fairies and magic, it's like… lame!" she smirked, seeing how many students agreed with her, some of them reluctantly.
"Read some of it, Constance. Let's see what that dork is reading" Bianca prompted, smiling cynically. Constance cleared her throat an made an imitation of Augustine rather child-like voice and started reciting:
"The girl continued reading despite the warning bells ringing loudly inside her head. Her eyes roamed though the pages, hungry for power that they thought only those written sentences could satisfy. As she came near a little poem her heartbeat quickened and her breath came in ragged pants. Her eyes grew wide and she licked her lips before smiling ad reciting in her deep, woman-like voice: 'I wish to cease, I wish to end, I wish the Damned would come and take us all away" at this point the girl made a gesture towards all the class and the proceeded "Right Now!"
The last two words echoed eerily. Suddenly a gust of wind flew open the two windows of the class and the glass of the windows shattered into a thousand pieces. The sound of flapping of wings filled the student's ears as a shadow entered though the shattered windows and landed behind professor Aberline. Gareth, King of the Dragons and so-called Damned straightened and swept his cool glance over the class with disdain clearly showing in every one of his aristocratic features.
"Who are you?" Hugh Aberline shouted, turning around to face the stranger. He simply smiled, tugging absentmindedly at his gloves (We all know and love that little habit Fae people have) and his fangs shone like two well sharpened blades.
"I am the Damned and, for now on, I am your owner as well, and the last thing you'll ever see" he whispered, his voice hissing slightly.
And, outside the class, somewhere in the school hallways a glass shattered in a girl's hands and Augustine suddenly felt as if she had been struck by lightning.
"What was that?" she asked to the air as she stared at the shards of glass lying in the floor with wide eyes….
Author's Note: I can't believe how many people reviewed this fanfic! I am almost finishing a chapter from the night of the Blue moon but I wanted to post this little chapter as soon as possible. I am not a fan of Labyrinth fanfics that don't revolve around Jareth and Sarah, so I thought few people would like this one. I am so glad I was wrong!
Please keep reviewing, you don't know how much it means to me. Again, most of what happens to Augustine (the fall from the stairs, the incident with the bottle of water) actually happened to me and many of Augustine's classmates are modeled after my own classmates (Yes, there is a Constance in real life, and she is as bad as I made her look). I even have a Literature Professor just like Professor Aberline, though I changed all the names, of course.
See you soon on 'The night of the Blue moon'. I am also working on 'The Masks we Wear' so keep an eye open for any updates.
Hugs and peaches from you most devoted author (As if…),
Sabi (Or, as my muse calls me, a big pain in the rear)
