Chapter Three
Astarael fell to the ground, her eyes red from crying. Red blotches were on her cheeks and her mouth was watering.
See what you have done? Voices screamed at her inside her head and her arms wrapped themselves around her shoulders tightly, a protecting clasp. You caused this!
"I didn't know!" Astarael yelled aloud. "I didn't know!" The tears she had been trying to hold back began streaming like rivers down her face. Her long eyelashes were soaked again as tear after tear clung to them.
That doesn't matter, a nasty voice said from the very back of her mind. You caused their death. You alone! You'll pay for it somehow! You will, Astarael! They will hate you forever! In Death they hate you! You killed them and you will pay for your mistake!
"I didn't know!" she screamed. The yelling voice vanished as the birds in the trees flew away from her shout. The cawed in alarm as they soared away, leaving Astarael completely alone.
"I didn't know," she mumbled unconvincingly. Astarael crawled over to a large oak tree, its roots sticking up above the ground. Seeking some sort of comfort she huddled between two of the roots, leaning against the trunk of the tree.
Her long white hair fell down in a cascade of ringlets. She looked down, her sudden outburst over. Her shirt was torn, she noted in remorse. Her mother had made this shirt and now it was torn. The skirt she was wearing had a long rip in it too.
Astarael was completely silent as she gently fingered the tear, picking at one of the loose threads. She took in a deep shaky breath.
It never fails, she thought, closing her eyes and letting her head rest against the tree. Every single day I have to go through that. Every single day. . . .
It had been nearly three weeks since she had come into the trees, her new home. She had learned much about the forest, the Great Sickle Wood. She knew where the safest trees were and were the dangerous creatures lived. She knew where it was safe to sleep and where there was food.
But she couldn't stop that voice in her head.
She hadn't known the man she invited into her home was a follower of the Free Magic, the magic that burned and killed. How could she have known? He didn't smell like the evil creatures did. He seemed normal, an ordinary Traveler looking for a place to rest. How could she have known?
But she found out that night when he killed her family. When he destroyed their entire village. Astarael sucked in a deep, calming breath in some vain hope that the voice would not return.
It had been her fault, but she hadn't known. Did that cancel out the wrong? Did the villagers hate her? What had happened to them?
Astarael knew that she shouldn't be alive. Her brother had died for her, because she was afraid. Maybe, if she had been brave, he would be alive instead of her. Maybe. . . .
"Like it matters," she gurgled, blinking her eyes. Wiping away the remains of her tears, Astarael stood up and looked around.
Where was she now? Any place worth noting? Astarael looked around, giving the place some sort of inspection. The trees were closer here and the grass was thinner. She cocked her head to the side. Was that water flowing?
Astarael's head spun. Water. The river. The island. She sank to the ground, nearly overwhelmed by the memories.
She remembered the small island. That was where she had first heard the voices in her head, just after the attack on her village. That was where she had given in and forgotten herself.
Astarael had worked hard to bring herself back to the real world around her, but the voice continued to plague her. She couldn't get rid of it. The island had damned her and she was afraid to ever go back there.
As her thoughts began to get more and more frantic, the thunder snapped in a loud roar. The wind picked up, rustling through the leaves and branches above her. Astarael broke out in some sort of hysterical laughter. That was her water! Just the wind in the trees!
The rain began to fall and Astarael licked her lips in new thoughts. Her laughter had ended quickly. She was in trouble. How much longer could she stand the insanity of the loneliness?
People, Astarael thought in sudden desperation. I need to be around people. Her mind whirred in new enlightenment. She knew where she would go. Astarael got to her feet and began trotting off. It was a long way to Belisaere.
*** *** ***
Kibeth was singing. Her hands were clapping the heats like a drum and she was singing. Her face was sprinkled in raindrops and the summer storm was soaking her clothes, but she was singing-loudly.
"And when I was a young girl, just a lass of ten." Her fingers began snapping and she shuffled her feet in the mud. "I told my mama dearest I'd been courtin' men!"
Kibeth laughed at the song. It was a lively bar song she remembered from when she was smaller. Kibeth looked down at her wet boots and made a face. The rain storm was going to slow her pace, whether she liked it or not.
"Guess I have to make the best of it," she muttered, looking for an ideal place to stay the night. She was a Traveler, a rather dangerous occupation in the state of the country, but she enjoyed it. Kibeth had always enjoyed exploring as a child and now that she was grown, it was no different.
She smiled to herself, catching sight of a village in the distance. If she hurried, she would reach it before the storm grew too dark. That settled, Kibeth resumed singing.
"She said I had a foolish heart, if ever there was one." The thunder boomed again, draining out Kibeth's next verse. Not that it mattered because her voice had cracked towards the end, the sudden drum of thunder causing her high spirits to end.
_____________________________________________
My Fellow Penguins:
I'm sorry I didn't have a chance to reply to some questions before now. I was on a vacation this past week. Please don't feel neglected. =P
Nimue, I'm glad you caught that with Yrael/Mogget. I'm planning something along those lines, so don't worry. I didn't miss that little detail in Sabriel; I'm working it a bit differently than you might think. Don't worry though! It follows what Nix has written-it's just not what you might think at first glance.
And I've already been reading the Chronicles. It's an awesome fanfiction. You've put just as much effort as I have into studying Nix and you can tell in the way you write. Keep it up.
Saraneth is coming, by the way. Patience. =D (Saraneth is one of my favorites too, so you know it's going to be a fairly interesting introduction.)
Nimue, thank you for connecting the way I projected the characters to the bells. It was deliberate. I had to go back to what each Lirael and Sabriel said about the bells when Nix introduced them and work from there. I'm glad someone caught it-it makes the work seem worth it.
Thanks to everyone who has been reviewing. It always means a lot when I open up my email and see "Review Alert!" I think all writers enjoy it so shoo and go read more fanfics. Shoo!
~Aithne, TheBladedancer
Astarael fell to the ground, her eyes red from crying. Red blotches were on her cheeks and her mouth was watering.
See what you have done? Voices screamed at her inside her head and her arms wrapped themselves around her shoulders tightly, a protecting clasp. You caused this!
"I didn't know!" Astarael yelled aloud. "I didn't know!" The tears she had been trying to hold back began streaming like rivers down her face. Her long eyelashes were soaked again as tear after tear clung to them.
That doesn't matter, a nasty voice said from the very back of her mind. You caused their death. You alone! You'll pay for it somehow! You will, Astarael! They will hate you forever! In Death they hate you! You killed them and you will pay for your mistake!
"I didn't know!" she screamed. The yelling voice vanished as the birds in the trees flew away from her shout. The cawed in alarm as they soared away, leaving Astarael completely alone.
"I didn't know," she mumbled unconvincingly. Astarael crawled over to a large oak tree, its roots sticking up above the ground. Seeking some sort of comfort she huddled between two of the roots, leaning against the trunk of the tree.
Her long white hair fell down in a cascade of ringlets. She looked down, her sudden outburst over. Her shirt was torn, she noted in remorse. Her mother had made this shirt and now it was torn. The skirt she was wearing had a long rip in it too.
Astarael was completely silent as she gently fingered the tear, picking at one of the loose threads. She took in a deep shaky breath.
It never fails, she thought, closing her eyes and letting her head rest against the tree. Every single day I have to go through that. Every single day. . . .
It had been nearly three weeks since she had come into the trees, her new home. She had learned much about the forest, the Great Sickle Wood. She knew where the safest trees were and were the dangerous creatures lived. She knew where it was safe to sleep and where there was food.
But she couldn't stop that voice in her head.
She hadn't known the man she invited into her home was a follower of the Free Magic, the magic that burned and killed. How could she have known? He didn't smell like the evil creatures did. He seemed normal, an ordinary Traveler looking for a place to rest. How could she have known?
But she found out that night when he killed her family. When he destroyed their entire village. Astarael sucked in a deep, calming breath in some vain hope that the voice would not return.
It had been her fault, but she hadn't known. Did that cancel out the wrong? Did the villagers hate her? What had happened to them?
Astarael knew that she shouldn't be alive. Her brother had died for her, because she was afraid. Maybe, if she had been brave, he would be alive instead of her. Maybe. . . .
"Like it matters," she gurgled, blinking her eyes. Wiping away the remains of her tears, Astarael stood up and looked around.
Where was she now? Any place worth noting? Astarael looked around, giving the place some sort of inspection. The trees were closer here and the grass was thinner. She cocked her head to the side. Was that water flowing?
Astarael's head spun. Water. The river. The island. She sank to the ground, nearly overwhelmed by the memories.
She remembered the small island. That was where she had first heard the voices in her head, just after the attack on her village. That was where she had given in and forgotten herself.
Astarael had worked hard to bring herself back to the real world around her, but the voice continued to plague her. She couldn't get rid of it. The island had damned her and she was afraid to ever go back there.
As her thoughts began to get more and more frantic, the thunder snapped in a loud roar. The wind picked up, rustling through the leaves and branches above her. Astarael broke out in some sort of hysterical laughter. That was her water! Just the wind in the trees!
The rain began to fall and Astarael licked her lips in new thoughts. Her laughter had ended quickly. She was in trouble. How much longer could she stand the insanity of the loneliness?
People, Astarael thought in sudden desperation. I need to be around people. Her mind whirred in new enlightenment. She knew where she would go. Astarael got to her feet and began trotting off. It was a long way to Belisaere.
*** *** ***
Kibeth was singing. Her hands were clapping the heats like a drum and she was singing. Her face was sprinkled in raindrops and the summer storm was soaking her clothes, but she was singing-loudly.
"And when I was a young girl, just a lass of ten." Her fingers began snapping and she shuffled her feet in the mud. "I told my mama dearest I'd been courtin' men!"
Kibeth laughed at the song. It was a lively bar song she remembered from when she was smaller. Kibeth looked down at her wet boots and made a face. The rain storm was going to slow her pace, whether she liked it or not.
"Guess I have to make the best of it," she muttered, looking for an ideal place to stay the night. She was a Traveler, a rather dangerous occupation in the state of the country, but she enjoyed it. Kibeth had always enjoyed exploring as a child and now that she was grown, it was no different.
She smiled to herself, catching sight of a village in the distance. If she hurried, she would reach it before the storm grew too dark. That settled, Kibeth resumed singing.
"She said I had a foolish heart, if ever there was one." The thunder boomed again, draining out Kibeth's next verse. Not that it mattered because her voice had cracked towards the end, the sudden drum of thunder causing her high spirits to end.
_____________________________________________
My Fellow Penguins:
I'm sorry I didn't have a chance to reply to some questions before now. I was on a vacation this past week. Please don't feel neglected. =P
Nimue, I'm glad you caught that with Yrael/Mogget. I'm planning something along those lines, so don't worry. I didn't miss that little detail in Sabriel; I'm working it a bit differently than you might think. Don't worry though! It follows what Nix has written-it's just not what you might think at first glance.
And I've already been reading the Chronicles. It's an awesome fanfiction. You've put just as much effort as I have into studying Nix and you can tell in the way you write. Keep it up.
Saraneth is coming, by the way. Patience. =D (Saraneth is one of my favorites too, so you know it's going to be a fairly interesting introduction.)
Nimue, thank you for connecting the way I projected the characters to the bells. It was deliberate. I had to go back to what each Lirael and Sabriel said about the bells when Nix introduced them and work from there. I'm glad someone caught it-it makes the work seem worth it.
Thanks to everyone who has been reviewing. It always means a lot when I open up my email and see "Review Alert!" I think all writers enjoy it so shoo and go read more fanfics. Shoo!
~Aithne, TheBladedancer