Disclaimer: I am now disclaiming.
AN: Ah, I've actually completed a chapter. If the shock doesn't kill me I may live to write another, and this might turn into a fanfiction. If that does indeed happen, this not-yet-a-fanfiction will be mostly inspired from Robin Mckinley's Beauty (But this isnot a fanfiction based upon that story, because I know that's not allowed), but probably with some Disney in there somewhere. The setting is some sort of alternative fantasy type of universe, which will hopefully reveal itself to the reader over time without a full dull history having to be spewed out. This version…will not be typical. I don't say this to brag (Look, I'm original!) but because I want to warn possible weirded-outers. Now read on:
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 1: Allason's Prologue
Something is amiss.
Of course, Allason could not be sure of her memories from so many years ago, but the path had always seemed so clear and well marked, nearly impossible to lose. Even the dumbest of drivers could find the way, and hers was not a dunce, so far she could see. Perhaps there was a plot forming…there was a feeling of it in the air…Allason closed her eyes, and she could almost smell it in the soil and hear it in the rustling trees – deceit. But whose? Her servants, those in her company? It seemed a likely plot; a young girl of noble birth, descendent of an Old family, tricked and kidnapped, sold into unfriendly hands to be ransomed or worse. Maybe they were only playing at being lost, and they weren't planning to take her home at all. Maybe any second now they'd pull over, shoot her and take pictures for the paper. She'd heard of similar things happening before. But no, that wasn't it. Then what? The whole of the woods seemed to echo with an underlying ache. Restrained…imprisoned…
She shook her head impatiently, her logical, preparatory school sanity returning to her. The word for this was paranoia. She reached into her silken bag and pulled out a number puzzle to play with. It didn't calm her nerves as she had hoped. Hours passed, no path was found, and the feelings of tension seemed only to increase with every second.
Things were too strange…something unnatural was coursing through the air, like a foreign disease that the woods could not expel. Work on your puzzle, Lady Allason, there you are…5, 6, and 7 in a row…on to the next set…
"I am very sorry my lady. If we cannot find our way soon we will have to rest for the night."
"What? Yes…I suppose so…" 1, 3, 5, evens and odds…why weren't the trees blowing in the wind…
Relax, little Allason, and you will be home soon.
"I will be home soon." Allason echoed. 8, 6, 4….
"I hope so, Lady Bird," The servant replied.
"There aren't any."
"Hmm….?"
Shh…little girl, hush, and play your game.
The leaves weren't falling normally….each one glittered in the sun just the right way…when the horses walked, they kicked up no dust…
"What's going on…?"
Nothing my dear.
"Nothing my dear."
No twigs littered the ground…no weeds….
"Nothing?"
Nothing, you wretched little girl, nothing!
With a click, the last numbered tile was fitted into place, and Allason's eyes fluttered open with sudden clarity to a strange sight…the castle. There it was. They had found it.
There there, see, no reason to worry.
No reason indeed.
The house looked remarkable. Very well kept, every detail like Allason remembered. An eerie feeling of comfort surrounded her, fond memories flooding a bit too quickly into her mind. She held her head as she stepped out of the carriage, her brain suddenly jolting from the strangeness of the soil under her feet. She worried. But suddenly her worries flew away, as a beautiful voice called sadly to her.
"Welcome, my dear Miss Allason, to Freer Castle. I am afraid you will not find your home exactly as you left it."
What a lovely woman! There, framed in the glimmering gates, a white gown floating upon her frame. She was tall and thin-figured, with beautiful, soft blonde hair, pure white skin, and perfectly molded features. And she was glowing! White-yellow light flowed from her head…The Newers would have called her an Angel, but Allason knew better – she was a Maga!
"He..hello.." She whispered hesitantly, intimidated by this fantastic image. The Maga approached her and wrapped her in cool, airy embrace – she smelled very sweet. Surely nothing so pretty could exist in the world.
"My name is Galia, I'm a Magamistress from Kenon," She looked down on Allason and stroked her check. "But you knew that…didn't you?"
Allason nodded.
"You're a smart girl. And I know you are Allason Bird, come from Terrian school in Ula Kingdom Capitol City, to live at home again." The lady sighed and took her hand, leading her towards the castle doors. "There is much to say."
The halls had never been so pristine, Allason noted. Everything did seem to sparkle more in Galia's presence. Gorgeous Galia walked so elegantly, with her head held proudly up, golden locks flowing down her back. It was impossible not to gaze up at her as they strolled and talked of the castle's goings on.
"You may have noticed, my dear, but the castle has been enchanted. It's quiet a sad tale, but I have high hopes for the future, and you needn't worry about a thing."
Ah, a spell, that made sense then. Galia must have cast it…everything was all right then…except…
"Lady Maga, my…is my brother here? I was told he was still residing at Freer."
"I was afraid you would ask, my love. Of course you were eager to meet him. I must regretfully tell you…he is no longer with us."
Allason hung her head, but nodded, accepting.
"I know you must feel sad, it is perfectly natural. You should let yourself grieve, my child." She patted Allason's head tenderly. "You never knew him, but you will mourn for the lost promise of love and companionship. Oh, he would have loved you very much, my pretty child. He would have been proud."
Tears fell from Allason's checks "H..how?"
"That I know not. All I know is that your legal guardianship is now in the hands of Charles Gosier."
"The Prince?"
"If he can still be called that."
Puzzlement crossed into Allason's features. "The spell…is about him? He did something wrong."
"He failed a test."
"Is that…still done? Lea-tian? Punitive magic?"
"Yes."
"…Oh."
Galia turned to her suddenly. "How old are you now, my dear?"
"Twelve years."
The lovely eyes closed in thought for a moment.
"You did well in school, yes?"
She'd been top of her class.
"Yes, I was…alright."
"I'm sure you are a very intelligent girl. Surely now you know you cannot go back to any school in the south, but I think you would like to continue your studies?"
Did she? She would have thought so…
"The south…is too dangerous, of course. The enemy is too powerful there. But there isn't anywhere around here, is there…schools, even temples. Everything moved farther north…they're coming here too, soon. The war is."
"Yes. But, the war will pass by this place and never see it. You yourself only found the castle when I let you see. You will be safe here."
They had been lost in the woods for hours…
"Yes, safe…"
"Safer here than outside."
"But…there's something dangerous here…isn't there?"
"Yes, Allason…but you need not fear. It is only the Prince, in his current state…"
"What did you...?"
"The only condition, if you are indeed to stay – you must be invisible."
"Invisible…"
"It is a necessary portion of the spell, you see. I must ask that you not question the proceedings too much."
"No, I…I don't…I trust your judgement, Lady Maga."
"No, I'm sorry, it was wrong of me to say. You are young, but you will understand, and you have a right to. The Prince Gosier is a traitor to the Old Faith. His actions have hurt our people, and our Mother. He is lost. But we can help him return to us, my dear, through strict exercise of spirit. It is a necessary part of his punishment that he be alone, isolated from the human species. Do you know about humans Allason?"
"...I…"
"Weakness. The terrible combination of beauty and fault, the one melded so thoroughly to the other that they have become the same tainted element. That is what you are, and what I am, and what Charles Gosier was. Beauty leads on to arrogance in those who possess it and wild envy in those who do not. The whole of the human race can become consumed by vanity – captured by the image of their own reflections they think they are all-powerful. They ignore their obligatory connection to our Earth, our Mother, and begin to think they are the world. You stand now in the palace of such a man. Sit down, my dear."
The lady and the child sank down into a black stone bench set in a sunken alcove of the marble hall, directly mirrored on the opposite side by a fantastic window.
"Look around you Allason. Sparkling riches in all directions, but not a bit of substance anywhere. This is Charles Gosier's place, through and through, for that is what he is. He refuses to take his place with the other great lords of the land and use his great affluence for our people. For years he has served only his own indulgences, but of course the Magas had no right change him forcibly, only to lecture and exercise holy patience in the hope that he would willinglyremedy his behavior. But now…now he has gone too far. He has become a threat. So I have been forced to take measures I never hoped to. Only through separation from vanity can he return to Mother; he must humble himself before her and see the error of his ways and beg her pardon. To that end, I cast a spell.
"But truly, the intent is not to punish. There should be no purposeless suffering involved here, only the necessary pain through which a strong soul grows. Undo challenges cannot be presented, for that would be a cruelty. The Price has no beauty now, but his desire for it is fiery. Jealousy, if the chance is given, will present him with a challenge he cannot overcome. The sight of the human form, a form he no longer can claim, will drive him mad with longing, and crush his soul to ash. To hear a lovely human voice will destroy him. To see pretty blue eyes…soft skin…
"My dear Allason, you are faced with a difficult choice. If you are to stay here, you will be invisible. You will be inaudible. You will have no scent, no tangibility, and no taste. Every little beautiful thing, you must give up. The reward is safety, security, a library of books with which to study, a temple in which to pray, and no threat from machine guns or bombs. The price may seem high, I know. To give up those things which let people sense you and perceive you to be beautiful may seem to be a relinquishment of your very self. But you do not need these physical traits, these illusions of the material world. You need only your spirit to survive. Here your spirit will be nurtured. Thanks to my care, this is now an environment of peace and tranquility, perfectly suited for the improvement of the divine soul. Out there…it is not the same."
It seemed that Galia had been talking since the start of the world. The words pressed into her mind, and Allason felt her head ache faintly as she considered all that had been said. A question flickered in and out of life in her mind…then vanished into the light of Galia's soft, sympathetic expression. Galia was right. She was righteousness. Allason leaned firmly against the dark stone, pressed against the alcove's little corner, resolved to stay. But she couldn't seem to stop staring at the window, at the cloudless sky, and feeling something…amiss...missing…little Miss Allason, losing her mind again. You have a troubled mind, my dear, but here you will find peace.
"You'll have to sign, here, here and here."
Galia whisked the parchment away not a second after the pen left the page, and folded it into her bodice. Then she gave little Allason a sweet smile and bestowed a kiss upon her forehead. When her lips withdrew, there no longer was a forehead. No more brown-blonde hair, no more face, no more body.
"Goodbye, my Allason." the Great Galia said, and walked from the room.
Allason's own farewell was strangled within a non-existent throat. Sunlight streamed through another largish window; the light and the silence were all-surrounding. She was now in a room – her bed room. Richly furnished with white-painted furniture, and soft white curtains which hung stark still to the floor. A bright pink floral pattern was imprinted on the duvet cover; Allason walked to the foot of the bed and stared at it. Merry little flowers, each one had blossomed to the right shape, right size. No, they had never grown, they'd been drawn, or painted, you silly child. And frozen on the silken bedcover they would never die.
Allason felt very tired, though it was not night. She crawled into the sheets until they covered her invisible head, and huddled in a ball she fell asleep.
Thus Lady Allason became the only Bird at Freer castle.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
So….review time!