It seemed that the first part of the academic term went all too fast; suddenly it was December, and the whole of Canterbury was in a Christmas state of mind, the King's School being no exception.
The tradition was that every Advent, the headmaster would light up the large Advent wreath that the younger students of the school had spent the past week decorating. Daniel had seen it last year, and it was a nice little ceremony, though most of the seniors thought that it was completely unnecessary – and Daniel, too, agreed that the tradition was probably mostly directed at the children.
Everett was one of those older students who found the event terribly boring, dreading going through it every Sunday of December. So he thought of a way to spice it up a bit.
It sounded like a fun plan, but Daniel didn't actually consider seriously doing it. But everyone else apparently thought it was a great idea, and they insisted that Everett should realise it. Daniel tried to talk them out of it with no luck.
"I don't think it's a good idea," he said, frowning, "Especially not considering we got caught in a brothel not even a year ago. It would be too bold to do anything like that, we might really get expelled this time around! Besides, isn't it a little mean?"
Timmy was the one to defend Everett's idea, not wanting to miss out on a great stunt, "Come on, Daniel, don't be so boring! It's not mean, we're just going to have a little fun!"
"But Daniel is right," Everett said thoughtfully, "It's a big risk if we get caught."
"Are you seriously saying that you're too scared to go through with a prank?" Owen said, his eyes wide with shock.
Christopher added with an amused grin, "That's not like you at all, Everett."
Everett shook his head, smiling back at his friends deviously, "Of course not, guys. I just thought that we should be more careful. And that's why I think Daniel should do it."
"W-what?" Daniel blurted, looking up from the anthology of poems, he was currently reading.
Everett patted his shoulder. "Don't be so modest, Dan, you know just as well as we that you are the most sneaky and clever of all of us. With you as our kingpin, it's certain that we won't get caught."
In Daniel's opinion, Everett was much more sneaky than he could ever wish to be. But he barely got to argue as the others instantly agreed and pleaded for Daniel to do it.
"Come on, Daniel! It could be really fun!"
"Imagine Wallace's face!"
"Please, or else it will be so incredibly boring going through that ceremony! You're our only hope!"
Daniel looked around at all of their wide puppy eyes, his heart dropping all the way down to his stomach.
Someone placed a hand on his shoulder, and he turned to look at the person; it was Harvey. "Listen, I am about to be turned into a monitor, so I have access to the dining hall. I can get you in and make sure that no one notices you!"
The doubt nagged Daniel. He really didn't want to do this. But the others kept staring at him, and in the end he couldn't bear their pleading looks any more.
"All right. I'll do it."
Late in the evening after dinner, the day right before the first Sunday of Advent, Daniel sneaked out to the main building to go through with the plan. Harvey had told him that he would make sure that the door to the dining hall would be unlocked, so that he could enter without any obstacles.
There was completely silent. Only muffled voices from the common room could be heard, but it was way down the hall. Daniel slipped in unnoticed, just like Harvey had promised, clutching the bottle of chemical liquid in his hands.
It was unnerving. Every time he heard distant laughter or footsteps, he jumped. He really didn't want to get expelled or have his parents know about any of this, so it would be a nightmare if anyone found him here, doing shady business.
Daniel quickly paced down the hall, determined to just get the work over and done with. The Advent wreath had been placed on the large table up front earlier this week. It was larger than an average wreath, with tall candles, and it was nicely decorated with all kinds of Christmas cuttings and ornaments made by the young pupils.
He stood for a moment, speculating which candle might be lit first. The candles weren't numbered, so it was impossible to tell. The only thing he could do was guess, but then the candle might not react until the last Sunday of Advent, and Daniel was certain that Everett didn't want to wait that long.
He bit his lip and frowned – but then he suddenly heard a door open in the distance, and footsteps clicked loudly and fast down the hall.
Daniel felt his heart skip a beat, and made a fast decision; he turned the lid of the bottle in his hands and poured the explosive liquid on all of the four candles, not bothering to economise on it. When the last drop had fallen, he hid the bottle underneath the table, then ran back down the dining hall in a flash.
For a moment, he thought that he could make it. It seemed like the footsteps had disappeared. But then, when he was about to grab the door handle, it suddenly turned by itself – and Mr. Martins stepped inside.
Daniel stopped right before he bumped into the vice-principal. Martins' eyes widened, "Mr. Wilkinson! What in the world are you doing in here?"
The young man tried to remain composed, but his heart told a completely different story. He managed to force out a few words fast, "I, uh, was hungry."
Mr. Martins raised a sceptic brow. "You know that food is only served during the meal times, Mr. Wilkinson. This is not a restaurant. I suggest you go back to your room; it's late and there will be the Advent tradition early tomorrow morning."
"Y-yes," Daniel stuttered, hoping that the Headmaster's assisting worker didn't notice the sweat drops running down his face, "I will, Mr. Martins. I apologise."
The boy walked around the authoritative man, putting much effort into avoiding his gaze. He just wanted to get out of here as quickly as possible. Maybe he could get away with the guilt.
"Daniel!"
He bit his lip hard, clenching his eyes close together. "Yes, Mr. Martins?"
"Was the door unlocked when you entered the dining hall?" Martins said.
Daniel turned around, feeling bewildered. The stocky man scratched himself behind his ear, looking just as confused as Daniel felt – but about something else, obviously.
He stood for a moment, processing the question. With cautiousness, he answered, "Um... It was, sir."
Mr. Martins nodded and turned his gaze to the door again, placing his hands on his hips and getting an irritated expression on his face. The annoyance was not directed at Daniel, though. "I see. I know that I told Shelton to lock it! I guess that if you want the job done, you just have to do it yourself."
He looked at Daniel again, offering a smile. "Thanks, Daniel. You can go to your room now."
Daniel stared at him for a moment, unable to believe that he had actually just gotten away with what he had done. He blinked once, then quickly bowed his head, "Of course! Goodnight, Mr. Martins!" Then he turned around and hurried back to his room without looking back.
The next morning, all students were assembled in the dining hall for the yearly Advent tradition. The first candle was going to be lit today, but not before Headmaster Wallace had held a speech, thanking the young students of King's School for a good job and praising the school spirit.
"Are you completely sure you poured enough on it?" Timmy whispered, his whole being trembling with excitement.
Daniel scoffed, "Believe me, it's enough. I used the whole bottle."
"Oh, I hope it won't be dangerous, though," Harvey said, frowning, "The prank might be fun and harmless in theory, but if the joke goes too far..."
"Don't worry so much, old chap," Everett said and patted Harvey's back; perhaps a bit too hard, as Harvey nearly dropped his glasses.
Owen turned towards his room mate with a wide smile planted on his face. "It's really admiring that you actually went through with this. You're so brilliant, Daniel!"
Daniel smiled, but he couldn't help feeling that this wasn't going to end well. Harvey might be right; what if the chemical was dangerous?
"And so I would just once again like to point out what an incredible job our youngest comrades did with the Advent wreath," Headmaster Wallace said, "Give the boys a hand!"
Everyone clapped, as the small boys up by the front table blushed and bowed their heads. Daniel felt the guilt gnaw.
"And now," Wallace continued as soon as the applause died down, "Let's light up the first candle! Christ is coming, and we will let him into our hearts and our homes!"
Wallace turned towards the first tall candle, lighting up a matchstick. The room was completely silent.
Daniel looked around at his friends. They all held their breaths in anticipation, following the fire of the match with their eyes. The only thing, Daniel could sense, was the rapid beating of his heart. He looked up at the front table.
The fire caught on to the wick. For a split second, everything seemed peaceful. Then the candle exploded.
The prank was not as harmless as Everett had insisted it would be. It caused a lot of chaos.
Luckily, no one was too badly injured. Wallace himself got away with the sheer shock and a burn mark on his hand. One of the small boys hurt his cheek, but it was nothing more than that.
The whole school laughed furiously at the incident; even Daniel couldn't contain his laughter, especially not when seeing the look on the Headmaster's face that had been completely smeared in black. The wreath that the young boys of King's School had spent so much time on was tossed out. It was too destroyed after the explosion, and there still were clear trails of the chemical left on it.
The board of governors immediately suspected Daniel's group of friends; apparently, they already had a history of doing these kind of tricks. Just like Owen had mentioned, Everett and Christopher often challenged each other to do pranks on the other students and professors, and that did not go unnoticed. They had gained themselves some of a reputation.
Daniel had expected Everett to confess that it was his idea. He had pressured Daniel to do it, and he was the one who had promised that it would be harmless and no one would ever know.
But he was completely wrong.
Already the day after the interrogation of Everett, Christopher, Timmy and Owen – the most infamous tricksters of the school – Daniel was called in to Wallace's office.
The worry immediately started to nag him. Was he about to be punished, even if it wasn't his idea? And what about his friends, what would happen to them? What about Everett?
Walking into the office, he immediately said, "Sir, can I please say something?"
Wallace glanced at his employees assisting him in the interrogation, then said, "Speak up, son."
"Please don't be too harsh on him," Daniel began, "I know Everett meant no harm. He just wants to make us laugh. He's a good boy, I swear- !"
"Everett?" Wallace interrupted, frowning at Daniel, "This has nothing to do with the young Mr. Hammond, my dear Daniel."
Daniel fell silent, letting the words sink in for a moment. "Oh. What, then?"
"This is about you, Mr. Wilkinson!" Wallace's secretary, Mr. Gibbs, blurted. He looked furious.
Me? Daniel thought.
"How dare you pull such an act? Your Headmaster is unable to use his right hand now! Do you find that amusing, Wilkinson?" another man of the board added. Admittedly, Daniel did not recognise all of them.
"You should be expelled! To be so disrespectful, it's obscene!"
"Completely unacceptable! What do you think your parents will say?"
"You're a disgrace!"
"Please, gentlemen," the Headmaster said. Immediately, the other men fell quiet. Wallace continued, "Harsh words are hardly necessary. I'm sure that Mr. Wilkinson grieves over what he has done plenty already."
Daniel felt confused. If this was still about the explosion, then why was Everett irrelevant? It was his idea!
Wallace looked at Daniel with something even worse than anger – disappointment. "I am sure you meant no harm, Daniel, and your grades are excellent. I know you keep a good behaviour most of the time, so this little joke of yours really shocked me; it seems out of character, to say the least."
"But- !" Daniel tried, but apparently he was not allowed to speak for himself.
"Quiet when your Headmaster is speaking!" Mr. Martins roared. He was the angriest of the bunch. He had seen Daniel in the dining hall himself; it was humiliating that the boy had just lied him in the face like that, and he still had suspected nothing.
Wallace paused for a bit. "Thank you, Martins." He directed his attention towards Daniel again, "So to say, I am very disappointed. I want you to know that. But I won't expel you. You are a far too valuable asset in our grade point average."
Daniel's shoulders slouched.
"You'll be suspended from school activity for now," Headmaster Wallace continued, folding his left hand over his burn mark, "Just until the start of spring term. Your parents will be notified about this, and you will be sent home."
The young man didn't answer. He stared blankly at the Headmaster's desk, unable to believe that this was happening.
Wallace sighed deeply, "I am sorry about this, Daniel. I really am. But I have to punish you. This could have been really dangerous. I want you to learn from this mistake."
He still didn't say anything. After a while of silence, he merely nodded.
A moment more of absolute quiet followed. Then the Headmaster said, "Is there anything you want to add, Mr. Wilkinson?"
Daniel kept staring into the surface of the desk. It took a while before he spoke, "Who … told you?"
"Mr. Martins saw you acting suspiciously in the dining hall," Wallace explained, "And the good Mr. Hammond told us that you suggested the idea to him and your friends. He tried to talk you out of it, but you insisted on it."
There it was. The reason why Everett was irrelevant.
He had made them believe so.
Daniel curled his fists. That was a hard blow. It felt just like receiving one of Henry's kicks to his gut – only worse.
Such a backstabber.
"I want you to go to your room and pack your bags for your early Christmas vacation," Wallace said, "I will notify your parents right away." He paused, then continued, "And in spite of what has happened, I wish you a merry Christmas, Daniel."
Daniel nodded and forced a smile.
"Merry Christmas."
Daniel didn't talk to any of the other boys at all before he left the school – not even Owen. He knew that they hadn't been the ones to sell him out, but he felt like they had betrayed him as well; they had pressured him to do it just as much as Everett. It was their fault he had ended up like this in the first place.
Returning home was not pleasant. Daniel's father was furious; he received a good scolding and clip round the ear. Henrietta seemed annoyingly smug about it, which only added to the shame. And as if that wasn't punishment enough, he also got the obligation of helping out in the studio more than usual – which meant all day, every day.
Daniel predicted that he wouldn't be able to get very far with Serena's house this vacation if he had to spend so much time helping his father with work. But even despite that, Daniel actually considered himself lucky; he didn't get expelled from the school, and in all truthfulness, his father's reaction could have been way worse. He was ever so grateful that John had stopped drinking.
At least being busy with the studio actually helped distract him from his worry about Serena not answering his letter. It had been six months; he couldn't obsess about it forever. He kept telling himself that there probably was a good reason she wasn't writing him.
"God dammit, where is it?"
Daniel's train of thought was interrupted by his father's sudden outburst. He put down the newly arrived packages of clay in the storage around the back and turned around to look at John. He sat by his desk, rubbing his temples in obvious frustration.
Daniel was about to turn and leave the room, but his father stopped him with a question, "Daniel, have you seen the cherub sculpture, I've worked on for several months? I haven't been able to find it for a good while now."
He stopped. Guilt gnawed at his conscience, but he merely swallowed hard, "No, I have not, Father."
"Bloody hell. That marble was expensive..."
Quickly, he went back out to get the rest of the new stock his father had ordered, hoping to avoid another interrogation. It didn't take long before his father followed, though. "Don't worry about those boxes," he said, "Carlson and Stephens will take care of it. I want you to come with me to the back."
Once again, he felt nervous. Did his father know? Daniel accepted and followed after John to the studio in the back of the small shop, the artisan had opened.
John put a large slab of stone on the desk and gathered some tools. Daniel breathed out in relief; he just had to help with the stone, nothing else. Not before long, the man and his son had the slab prepared for carving. When everything was ready, Daniel turned to leave again, but his father stopped him, "Where do you think you're going?"
Daniel turned around with a confused look on his face. He usually never did anything more than prepare the stone when it came to his father's stone masonry; it was too difficult a task for him to actually make anything out of it, and he hadn't been taught how to handle it yet. It was perfectly reasonable for him to leave now to let his father work in peace, but apparently John didn't agree.
"I … was going to continue stocking up," he said, slightly hesitant, and scratched the back of his head.
The tall man placed a hand on his hip, "And how do you expect to ever learn how to cut the stone if you always leave to stock up?"
Daniel clearly heard the sarcasm in the emphasised words. It felt insulting. Did he mean to say that Daniel didn't help with the work at all? He had spent most of his childhood in a studio with his drunken father!
He didn't get to speak his mind before John continued, though. "You'll stay here."
"What do you mean that I always leave?" Daniel interrupted, adrenalin pumping through his veins. He feared his father's wrath, but at the same time, he himself was too angry to even care.
John locked his eyes on the young man. "What I mean?" he said, a low growl emanating from his throat, "I mean that you always sneak out of the house and run around minding your own damn business! You never tend to any of your duties any more, you barely help out with your old father's work!"
"I don't have any duties to tend to, now that you've married a woman with a big house full of servants!" Daniel snapped, though keeping his voice down. He didn't quite muster the courage to yell at the man that had abused him for years.
"It's not the servants' duty to tend to the shop and keep the business running once he becomes a grown man!" John roared, having lost his patience. He slammed his large hand into the desk and stared at his son, the veins in his sturdy neck visible.
Daniel fell silent, clenching his teeth together and fisting his hands.
John kept glaring at him with a stern look. He looked almost mental with those wide, angry eyes. "Show some respect, son!" he finally said, "You're a disgrace! Do you want the whole town to think that we can't educate our children? I am supposed to be proud of you, not ashamed!"
The young man averted his gaze, refusing to look his father in the eyes. It was too painful.
His father sighed. "I'm tired of this attitude of yours. I'm not going to allow it any more. You're not going to neglect your responsibilities from now on. In order to be able to take over and keep up this business, you'll have to devote some more of your time here. I want you to quit your job at the miller's. You're going to be my apprentice from now on, understood?"
There it was. The decision was made for him, without even asking him how he felt about it. Daniel kept his gaze low, moistening his lips. "Understood."
John nodded. "All right, then. Now, listen closely, it's not easy to cut stone, let alone make something worth selling out of it..."
Daniel followed all of John's instructions precisely, but he didn't have his heart in it. His father's notion had gotten him thinking. Was this his future? Was the school and his education really just a formality? And most importantly – was this really what he himself wanted?
No. It wasn't. He had never been interested in his father's work. He only knew what he knew about it because he had spent all of his life helping out in the studio, and he had only helped out in the studio because he would be beaten and locked in the basement if he didn't.
In all honesty, the only good experience he had ever had relating to the craft was when he and John had bonded – and that only lasted for a short while, given that Daniel felt uttermost let down and estranged from his father when he married the Ice Queen.
But then, if he didn't want this, what did he want with his life? When he had been younger, he wanted to become an archaeologist. He had always been interested in history of man and ancient times, probably stirred by the fairy tales his mother used to tell him. But it had just been a silly dream; a poor boy like himself would have a really hard time breaking out of the family pattern. Both his father, his grandfather, great grandfather, and all who came before had been artisans and craftsmen. Even though Daniel had hoped, he had somehow always known that he would follow in his ancestors' footsteps.
But now that the idea had become a reality, he felt himself fighting against it. He couldn't accept it. What about his deal with Serena? What about his promise of going to London and enrolling the university? Being there to protect his closest friend? Obtaining the necessary means to have Hazel transferred to the London Infirmary and getting proper treatment?
This really wasn't what he wanted. He didn't want his life to end in Canterbury, as some old workman who never accomplished anything other than building furniture; he wanted to travel across the world, experience new cultures and discover ancient old secrets and knowledge. He wanted to be an archaeologist.
But he didn't mention it to his father. It wasn't wise to push the man's limits. And although he still wanted a different life for himself, he knew that right now his dream seemed next to unrealistic.
It was silent around the table. Only the sound of cutlery scraping against porcelain could be heard in the large dining hall.
Daniel stared down at his plate. It was Hazel's birthday today, and the whole day the siblings had been forced to do all sorts of ridiculous activities with their parents. They had had to go out and visit all of John and Henrietta's friends even though Hazel was tired. Daniel just wanted to have a nice time with his baby sister, tell her fairy tales, read to her from his history books and bake her a cake. He wanted to spend time with her like he used to, but now that plan had gone out the window.
It didn't even seem like their parents even cared that it was her birthday; they didn't actually pay her any attention, they just had her along for the outings to show her off to the other middle class families of Canterbury. They praised her so much, but only when there were other people to listen to it.
Daniel felt sick. He hated how hard they tried to impress everyone. It was embarrassing.
Henrietta made a great effort to point out how wonderful a child Hazel was – so much that Daniel was sure she meant to tell him exactly that she didn't think the same of him. He was put in the background, almost kept away from the others as if he was some animal. His parents were ashamed of him; they thought that he was a disgrace and couldn't behave properly. He knew it.
So Daniel definitely wasn't in a good mood today. He had grown more and more irritated, and more and more bitter. And the last thing, he needed, was to listen to Henrietta's stupid comments. He just wanted her to shut her mouth.
"But Mary Anne told me that she was completely sure of this," the Ice Queen blabbered on, lifting her wine glass without taking a sip of it, "She said she would check with the rest of the family and then get back to me. I just hope that everything won't turn out a complete disaster."
He hated the snobbish tone in her voice. It was always there. She talked about other people's misery as if it were the most exciting gossip of the day. She always said she hoped things wouldn't turn out a 'complete disaster', but she never sounded like she was sorry. Ever.
"That's great, darling." Even John sounded like he was bored. Or else he was just completely fixated on the delicious dinner served in honour of Hazel.
Daniel narrowed his eyes, gripping the fork a little tighter. This was Hazel's birthday. What were they doing talking about everyone else? Hazel should get attention. It was her special day.
Hazel had also been silent the whole day. She had only opened her mouth to thank for the presents and the praise. Not once had she been asked how she was feeling or what she wanted. She just had to force an exhausted smile and act as the good girl, she was supposed to be.
Henrietta finally took a sip of the expensive wine before putting it down on the table again. "Really, they should have just sold the house, like I told her. Then all of this could have been avoided."
"Shouldn't we be celebrating Hazel instead of gossiping?"
The woman immediately fell quiet. She as well as her husband stopped eating and looked up.
Daniel glared at Henrietta. He hadn't gotten far with the beef. He had lost his appetite over the course of the dinner. His younger sister bit her lip and stared down at her lap. This was not going to be pleasant, she could already tell.
Henrietta blinked a few times, seemingly a bit disoriented. Her smile had disappeared. She cleared her throat, then said, "Why, Daniel, I think Hazel should be plenty satisfied with her birthday already. Usually, the second child is not celebrated at all, especially not a daughter. I tried to arrange a celebration for you back in July, but that … did not go as planned."
The boy fisted his hands. "Don't make this about me! Hazel deserves the attention!"
"I am quite aware that your sister behaves much better than you, young man. It delights me that you see it yourself," Henrietta snarled with an obvious undertone of scorn. She did not even deem him worthy of a look.
Hazel glanced up at her father with wide pleading eyes. He didn't notice her. He stared at the dinner table expressionlessly, except for the deep frown.
Daniel clenched his teeth, doing his best to control his anger. "I can behave just as well as my sister, but you only see what you want to see!"
Her father rested his forehead in his hand, rubbing it as if he was tired or had a headache. She knew where this was going.
Henrietta merely scoffed and took a sip of the exquisite wine once again, "Maybe if your mother had had some money, she could have used it to buy you some manners. That's the least she could've done for you."
Daniel's anger was only growing by the second. He felt himself tremble. "How dare you! You don't know anything about my mother! She used the money to care for me as much as she could!"
"Well, at least I can provide for my children."
A moment occurred. A moment of complete and utter silence that seemed to last for an eternity. It was as if the air sighed.
Hazel's eyes widened. Somewhere within her, something was cracking. She could almost hear the sound of something break, like glass shattering against the cold floor. She brought a hand to her chest.
Something was breaking within Daniel as well. But this crack was much more aggressive than Hazel's shattering glass. It was an earth quake, shaking right into the core – and the volcano was about to erupt.
John finally looked up. His eyes were darker than usual.
In reality, the moment only lasted a second.
Daniel stood up so violently that his chair knocked backwards on the floor in a loud audible bang. He smashed his hands against the table, causing all of the fine china and cutlery to rattle. "YOU WILL NEVER BE ABLE TO REPLACE MUM! NEVER!" he cried, so that it could be heard all over the region. Hot tears blurred his sight. "YOU WITCH! I HATE YOU! YOU CAN KEEP YOUR BLOODY MONEY!"
"DANIEL!" John roared, standing up from his chair as well, "THAT'S QUITE ENOUGH!"
Hazel didn't want to be part of this any more. As the father and son began their fighting, she ran out while everyone was distracted. She held a hand over her mouth all the way down the corridor, into the large entrance hall, up the stairs, down another corridor, at last locking herself into her room, breathing heavily.
She could still hear them. Despite the distance, the many walls and doors that stood between, she still heard the awful yells. They had completely forgotten about her in the raging war.
The tears were streaming down her face. She couldn't contain it any more. She sat down with her back against the door, letting all of her sorrow out in loud wails, not caring if anyone heard her. She doubted that anyone would for the screaming contest going on downstairs.
As she heard the first cry of pain, she immediately stopped her sobbing and stiffened. Her heart was pounding. It hurt, but she was certain that it was nowhere near the kind of pain her beloved older brother was experiencing in this moment.
The tears came to her eyes again. Hazel did her best to bite it back as she stood up from the floor, making her way over to the bookcase. Listening intently to the convulsive bellow and the repeated agonised screams, she grabbed a book and went to sit in her bed. She opened right on the page and started reading.
Once upon a time there was a barren and desolate land. Nothing existed but darkness, ashes and cold, and the people were miserable. The stars saw the land and knew that they alone would not be able to light it up, and so they collected all their stardust over one hundred years, and a girl was born from it. The girl grew in just one day and turned into a woman…
Another cry. Hazel did not want to think about all the blood. She was much too used to it.
A star came to the woman and named her Hazel. It gave her a candle and told Hazel to travel to the core of the world to light it up. Hazel accepted and started her journey. She followed the star to the entrance of the Underworld, for the star had said that only through there, you could get to the core.
Hazel arrived at the entrance. The guardian by the gate was merely a skeleton in an armour. The bony guard told her that to gain entrance to the Underworld, she must answer a riddle. Hazel accepted the challenge, and the guardian said, "You cannot see me, hear me or touch me. I lie behind the stars and alter what is real, I am what you really fear. Close your eyes and I come near. What am I?"
Hazel knew it. She had been taught the answer at a very young age. This was what Daniel feared. She cringed as she heard him scream again.
Hazel thought thoroughly about the riddle, when suddenly she caught sight of the star. It bounced around her, letting its bright light spread wherever it went. Through her wit she discovered the answer. It was hiding behind the star, following after it, fearing its shine. She turned towards the guard and said, "The answer, you seek, is the darkness."
The guardian bowed down for Hazel and let her pass through the gate. Hazel and the star walked and walked some more, and finally they reached an abyss. There were dead bodies of lost souls all over, some completely rotten and others brand new. Over the cleft of nothingness hung a crumbling bridge, and just one step made it fall apart and tumble down the abyss.
Hazel was a very brave girl, and also very clever. She weaved a rope out of the hair of the dead; it was strong enough to carry Hazel, and she was able to climb over.
A tear stained the page. Daniel had bought this book because of their mother. This was the only one he could find which had the fairytale of the morning star in it. It was precious.
Hazel and the star finally reached the core, but a terrifying, bloodthirsty dragon rested by the gate. The star told Hazel that she could not touch any of the golden treasures the dragon protected, or it would wake up and devour her.
Hazel sneaked past the sleeping dragon, but when she neared the gate she could not resist all those gorgeous diamonds and jewels, and she touched them. The dragon woke from its sleep and began chasing Hazel with a feverish blood thirst – but the star came to her rescue, and at the expense of Hazel's mistake, the star burned out by the cold breath of the dragon.
At the expense of Hazel, the star died. The star that shined the brightest and protected her and guided her. The star that always stayed by her side and believed in her. Her hands trembled.
Hazel escaped just in time, and the gate closed behind her. She found herself in a completely dark room with only one light up ahead. Hazel got closer and saw that the light came from a candle with a silver flame. She reached out for it, and suddenly the flame grew large in an attempt to absorb her.
Hazel got caught up in the flame, but as she was born of stardust, she did not burn – instead the flame turned gold and expanded. It filled the core, and Hazel dashed to the sky. She kept burning her golden light and became the brightest star in the heavens, the star we know as the sun and light, and the land became fertile.
At the expense of Hazel, Daniel was right now being beaten up so badly that he would end up lying unconscious on the floor in a small pool of his own blood. Hazel had seen the slashes that her father had put on her brother's back before. And this time around, he was really furious.
Hazel's star, her support, her security. The tears wouldn't stop. Mr. James was clutched tightly in her embrace, just letting her cry on his soft furry shoulder.
Why couldn't she be as strong as Hazel in the fairytale whom she was named after? Why couldn't she stand up to her parents and defend her brother? She was useless, just like Father had always said. She might as well have never been born.
Never been born.
After a while, the voices finally died down. It was way past midnight. Hazel's birthday was over.