Gods and Magnolias
-:- earth rumble iii -:-
She doesn't exist, so she isn't worried about a disguise. The only people who might recognize her are the guards and gardeners her parents hire, but really who would notice her in a crowd of this size? Anyway, she reasons, the only way to be certain that the disguise she picked wasn't something that actually made her conspicuous was to ask someone, and that absolutely was not an option. So far, no one has questioned her, as if a nine-year-old in formal robes walking alone to a fighting tournament is entirely commonplace. To be safe, she becomes one of them, walks among them, lets the crowd move her along like the little waves in the pond do for the few minutes that she is able to float and listen to the murmur of the water before her panicking parents send someone to fish her out.
Even before she reaches the entrance she can feel the immensity of the stadium; her stomach hollows as her feet glide over a massive crater that has opened underneath the earth. Despite herself, her breath catches in her throat. There are so many people down there! Their excited chatter buzzes in her heels like ants in their tunnels.
Once inside she finds a lonely wall and slumps against it, waiting for her head to stop reeling. Never in her life has she been in the company of so many hundreds of people. She knows the footsteps of her parents, of the watchmen, of her teacher, of the housekeepers and cooks, all of these individual and separate and safe. But the crowd is different, it's everywhere, saturating her senses like someone shaking her violently, shaking her awake. The earth is under her feet, above her head, engulfing her in its clay embrace, and whispering to her the song of the world that dances outside the tall stone walls of home.
Slowly, slowly, the fog in her head clears and she is able to make sense of the damp-smelling coliseum and the flood of people.
That year no one notices the girl squeezed between a rock wall and a wailing group of teenagers in the highest row of the arena, bare feet hidden under the long hem of her dress, toes boring a wedge into the stone bench, and wondering if the force shaking her core is coming from within her or from the stage.