The Betrayed Marionette
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"Maybe it's better to be an outlaw with a purpose than a citizen without."
- Tim Powers, 'On Stranger Tides'.
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It was here upon this midnight hour that time truly stilled.
It was here as the world began to fall away; as the shadow rolled in as a mighty fog from the east; as the sky became alight and wistful and speckled with the light of many stars that all seemed to slow. All seemed indefinite. All appeared to hang in the balance throughout that lull between the days, for the earth itself seemed to pause to hearken to the call of slumber and so, as it was, these hours were peaceful.
This night was a welcome breath - a brilliant respite. This night and all it's heavenly glow was blissful; it was cleansing… And, most of all, undisturbed. Undisturbed by the chattering of townsfolk. Undisturbed by the cry of the gulls on the seafront. Undisturbed even by the breath of the wind - by the whistle of the breeze on a growing tide; by the hiss of the waves; unbroken by the crashing of salt and water upon the foot of the cliffs...
Yes, this night was undisturbed by all of those things. Undisturbed... Save for the tapping. The chimes. Save for the rustle of dry parchment; the mutterings below hushed breath; the gentle 'chink, chink, chink!'ing of metal upon metal as the tin figures danced, twirling upon a glassy stage as fleeting spirits, glowing in the light of the many constellations above. To the an intrinsic, chiming tune they spun; twirling as if bidden by invisible strings; enchanted to dance for all eternity. His tiny form was clad in bronze - an obedient little soldier boy with a saber at his side and a crown atop his head. Her dress was adorned in jewels - in tiny flecks of garnet burning red in the distant light - and all her skirts were spun from gold, woven from the sun itself, as pure and gleaming, glowing bright as a fresh-wrought brooch straight from the forge.
But then the ticking faltered. The rhythm skipped a beat. From the little bronze man there came a 'crunch!' and suddenly he hung as if hewn in two - dropped cleanly at the waist.
Another crunch; an off-tune chime... And the melody ground to a jarring halt.
The figures stilled. Their dancing ceased. The light of the stars fell strong and bright over their façades and suddenly the fortune-teller saw the two laid bare. Tragic statues frozen in time they made, for still the bronze man hung in half, locked in his own lament. Now the starlight shone upon the maiden's dress, but no longer did it seem the gold her bronze soldier had so desired. Her garnets were missing. Her dress was tarnished - washed with rust - and bent over backwards she fell from him, arched away as if his very touch would marr her beyond repair.
The fortune-teller, glancing over, heaved a sigh and in his hands snapped shut the dusty book.
" 'If you prick us do we not bleed?' "
He said.
" 'If you tickle us do we not laugh?
If you poison us do we not die?
And if you wrong us... Shall we not revenge..?' "
"So said the greatest author of those days long passed. So said the man of times whence such drama and tales of passion were so tightly interwoven into daily life... At a time when our fates still lay so closely linked to these - these souls above our heads; our hearts hearkened ever to those stars above..."
And, in the dim light of the constellation room, he stood, his eyes agleam in the glow of the starlight.
"But I see this tale," the fortune-teller said; "I see this fate so desperately wound across the fabric of the sky - engraved in the stars themselves as they drift about the endless night and fall away towards the end of the world…"
And he breathed, his hands in prayer before his face and in his chest he felt his heart begin to swell with an anticipation he could not place;
"Oh… And to the ends of the earth you shall go, Marionette. Where upon the blank edges of the map shall you wander, I wonder? Where lies the end of your fateful path? Where shall these constellations guide you on this fleeting journey into the night?"
Fondly, the fortune-teller raised his head towards the sky and the many stars of the heavenly night were reflected in his gentle eyes, dancing as spirits, intermingling with that never-ceasing spark of mischief - that spark of life that fed the flame in his restless soul.
And alight with amusement they were, for, far above, those two still hung in the heavens - sparkling; radiant; their centres overlapping, wound tightly to the other - and he now no longer cared for the abandoned book or the maiden with the sullied dress nor even the bronze man hewn in two, though reach for the maiden he did and when he plucked her from her music box and held her to the light of the Lock her missing facets gleamed as though filled with the very jewels she had lost.
"Because the pages have turned." He said. "The pages have turned and their voices filter from far above, for even now the heavens are moving; the tide is shifting; the plot of this new chapter forming amidst the clouds above..."
And, lightly - as a breath of sea breeze - the fortune-teller laughed.
"After all," he whispered; "you may have found your treasure… But it seems you've lost your way."
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A/N: Well, here we are! Back again to continue on the Seven Seas Treasure storyline. Besides this first chapter (I do love my convoluted monologues!), I'll be getting straight back into things. Whilst the first fic was more of a slow burn, this one will be picking up the pace! I've got romance, adventure and (eventual) angst galore to come - not to mention one or two new characters as well!
Rating may change depending on how far some of the violence and, uh, 'romance' comes out. I've got a few parts written out already and I'm pretty sure some of it borders on M-rated fiction, but we'll see. I'd like to try and keep it T.
Well, I hope you'll follow the story with me, but in the meantime, any thoughts? Predictions? Criticisms? I'd love to hear them!
Thank you for reading!