Okay, I know. It took me a long time to update. As I warned before, I hit a bit of writer's block, combined with a busy scheduele. HOwever, the review count for the last chapter was also a little disapointing. A great big hug and thankyou to my two reviewers, you guys are the best.
So, I'm going to ask for maybe three reviews this time? I don't think that's too much to ask. Questions, comments, suggestions, concerns, etc are all welcome.
Chapter 5
The second time I woke up, the memory flood-back was instantaneous and I'm afraid I reacted rather…rashly. Someone yelped and another cried out in pain as foot rammed into a shin and my fist came in contact with an eye. Yes, I know, there's a pattern here. What can I say? Humphrey and Sherry know to let the rug wake me up if they need to, and nobody who knows what's good for them shakes me to wake me up. I have a habit of lashing out, it's an automatic reaction.
"Easy, Chrystal, easy, Please stop trying to hit people!" A vaguely familiar voice said in my ear. I groaned and opened my eyes blearily. Hovering in front of my face was a small blue glow. Upon squinting, I saw a pretty, if pointy face inches from mine. It moved back a little so that I could see it came with a tiny little body as well, it was Twinkle, one of the Northern Light-Sprites. Her skin was a golden colour, shiny and somewhat angular, making her look like a human-shaped piece of topaz—which she sort of is, in that she uses her body somewhat like a prism to reflect, refract and shimmer the light that she generated, making the beautifully coloured patterns in the sky with her siblings that are so beautiful in the North.
"Twinkie?" I asked, using her nick-name as I started to sit up. I was lying on what appeared to be a bunch of rags, cushions and blankets inside a large, chilly stone chamber that had the remains of a tapestry or lining or something around with the long chestnut threads still hung around it.
"Oh Good, you recognise me!" She sighed in relief
"Course I recognise you…uh oh! Excuse me!" This time the cookies did get tossed. Violently. Someone, namely a small sprite, came behind me and pulled my hair back for me. How embarrassing! Was the thought that kept running through my head, that and several rather uncharitable thoughts towards several people and a variety of rather satisfying (if potentially impossible) plans for exacting vengeance upon those idiots. Oh, they were going to pay. With interest.
"Ugghhhh…clean-up in dungeon twelve!" were the words that actually ended up coming out of my mouth.
"Don't worry about it." Another vaguely familiar voice rather smugly, "You only reacted the most drastically to this stuff so far, must have the immune system of a woman." This one I wasn't so fond of.
"Oh Joy. The glee club's assembled." Was my retort as I stood and squared my shoulders, "Actually, I'm surprised you're here, Perky. Sprites, Royalty, Heroes, I thought it the rich and/or successful people this bozo was snatching."
"Ha, ha, ha. Still as grumpy as ever, I see. This is what happens to a woman who needs a man." A guy standing to my right said snidely.
"Oww, is widdle Perky still sour about all those fights I won?" I didn't bother pointing out that not only did I have a boyfriend and that I was a woman but that on average women were healthier then men. My jibe related to our time at training got to him, like I knew it would. Percival and I attended the same Hero school, along with Humphrey. Now I know what you're thinking, Hero school? You're kidding right? Well, it is true that Heroes are just people who find that hard/dangerous times bring out the best rather then the worst in them, etc, etc. But what I'm talking about is an institution for people like me, who are going into it for a career…or for rich stuck-ups like Percival who just want to nab a hottie and marry into royalty (that's right, just to get something straight, he is not royalty, despite what he'd like us to believe. His father is some minor noble who claims to be the second cousin of their king, yeah. Sure.)
"Pah!" Percival scoffed, "I beat you all the time."
"Yeah, if you think that 2 times out of 10 is 'all the time' then sure you did." I retorted. As Percival opened his mouth to reply Twinkle fluttered between us.
"Okay, you're clearly a little feeling better now…" she said a little nervously. She doesn't particularly like confrontation.
"Well, a professional always bounces back." I tell her, still glaring at the pain-in-your-butt that I thought I'd never have to tolerate ever again.
"You don't exactly look like a professional right now." He sneered. I finally noticed what I was wearing. Oh. No wonder it was so chilly. I was still wearing my sister's thin silk night-gown.
"Is there anything that I can change out of?" I asked Twinkle.
"Well…actually there is. But you're not going to like it." She said, taking a side-long glance at the folded material beside the cluster of blanket and cushions I had been laying on. It was with trepidation that she lifted it up by the neck and flew upwards so that I could get a general idea of what it looked like.
"Oh no. No…no." I groaned. Then again, it was that, or stay in the nightgown…A growl rumbled through my throat as I snatched the dress from her "The things I do for my family. Ohh, these guys are gonna pay……" at that point I noticed the other people in the room. The first thing I noticed was that there was a lot of them---and they were all staring at me expectantly
"I'm not changing in front of all you guys!" I exclaimed before muttering "Ew, wash your minds out with soap."
"It's okay, there's a lavatory." Twinkle said, pointing me in the right direction. I closed the door and started changing. However, it took me a while to come out. After a few minutes, there was a knock on the door
"Chrys, are you alright in there?" The Sprite asked from the other side
"I am not coming out in this. I look like an idiot!" I called out, crossing my arms stubbornly
"Stop acting like a child and get out here! People need to use the washroom!" was the reply
"Oh, I'm not behaving like a child. When I was a kid, I dressed in these-these tents willingly!" It's true. My dark secret. I loved pretty dresses when I was little. I even experimented with make up once or twice, but that was before my Stepmother started to come into the picture.
"Just get out here already!" someone else snapped
"Fine! But no one laughs or else." I growled as I inched out crossly, my arms crossed and my jaw set angrily. I looked ridiculous. It was as bad as Lucinda's first attempt at a dress that first Ball-night! Ruffles, frills, a skirt that belled out like a giant sphere with a hole in the bottom! And to top it off, the thing was the most hideous combination of Bright pink, scarlet red and neon orange. Can you spell walking target?
Then it happened. That idiot started laughing
"Shut it Percival, or I play bonesetter and break a few of yours." I said through clenched teeth, advancing on him. A sharp tug at my hair made me yelp and spin around. Twinkle was scowling at me with her tiny fists on her hips. My nostrils flared angrily, but I regained control of myself. She Was right. Now was not the time to let anger or pride get the better of me. Just because I wore a dress didn't make me any less capable or intelligent then someone in pants. Wasn't that a portion of what I had been trying to prove anyway? Taking a deep breath and counting to ten I looked around the room I was in and took a good long look at a few of my fellow inmates. In this chamber alone there was me, Twinkle and Percy obviously, but also a beautiful unicorn, a guy in a clanking metal suit of armour and 2 young women. One of them was dressed very elegantly, decked with jewels and was sitting by herself, her nose in the air disdainfully and snobbishly. I resisted the urge to judge and took a look at the other woman apart from myself. At that point I realized that the chestnut threads around the room were not only not the remainder of a tapestry/lining or whatever, but not even thread. It was this girl's hair.
"Okay." I sighed, surveying the room with an even more critical eye "Any of you tried to get out yet?"
"Yes, the fortress is impregnable." Percy said arrogantly
"Well what did you try?" I asked in an overly polite tone. He told me all about his daring escapade out the window and ooh, two feet down the tower via the bricks that stuck out. It then got exciting when he described how he nearly fell and eventually had to climb back up into the tower when the Black cloud returned.
"That's it?" I asked anticlimactically. "You climbed out the window? Tell me something, was ladderlocks here at the time? Please tell me she wasn't."
"In his defence, she was unconscious at the time." Twinkle offered
"Fine, but then why not wait until after she was awake then use the hair to climb down? It would get you most of the way anyhow!" I pointed out
"I think not!" The Rust Bucket exclaimed imperiously, "I certainly would not leave a lady in distress behind!"
"Who said anything about leaving her behind?" I asked him, "I'm in the hero business, remember? I'd loose my reputation and possibly my licence if I lived by the policy of 'Look out for number one', and that's just not good business."
"But……how would you get out by my hair if I were not inside the tower?" she asked somewhat thickly. I decided not to judge and give her the benefit of the doubt
"One word honey: Haircut. It would have to happen once we got down there anyway." At her whimper I felt my temper rise but kept it in check and thought instead about how this would affect the girl. I'd seen stuff like this before, a pretty generic story. A Witch or Wizard would take a girl from her parents as an infant, never allow scissors to touch the hair and on top of that feed them any number of herb/potions that made the hair grow. Then they'd stick the girl in a tower and give her some kind of a password that only the captor knew. Typical insecurity complex on behalf of the Witch/Wizard or even on occasion unstable parent who had hired the services of the former, considering that the girl in question only ever saw them every day when they checked in. It was a lonely existence, we'd been warned about this kind of thing in our Hero classes. These girls were often very unstable, not to mention liable to fall head-over-heels for the first person other then their "parent" that came along, regardless of, well, anything. There was also a high suicide rate and attachment to the hair. I felt bad at that point and softened
"Look," I said gently as I sat next to her, "Sorry, if I was a little callus. But we have to be practical. You can't exactly run very quickly if you're dragging 60 odd feet of hair with you." She looked up at me with teary eyes the same chestnut brown colour of her hair, "Besides, you can keep it long, just not as long." At least she seemed to think about the idea. I clapped my hands together and rubbed them
"Okay, let's get thinking." I said "We got a plot to uncover, an escape to plot and some recon to do, who's in?"
Okay, Next chapter you guys get to see how Derrick is doing...You didn't think he'd get an easy time did you?
Now PLEASE review! The button is right there and dying to be pressed!
