Disclaimer: I would love to own Pellinor. Sadly, however, I do not, nor do I own Angel by Sarah McLachlan.
Notes: As you may have noticed, this is coming out very infrequently due to other fan fics, planning, and school. It is not, however, abandoned in any way shape or form, nor in hiatus. Reviews are appreciated :D. Now, onto the story:
Cautiously, I thrust myself up, forcing myself out of the small stall. This had to be some dream, some fantasy. I was a slave; I always would be. That was what had been drilled in our heads everyday since the beginning of our existences. And slaves did not feel pleasure, only pain and a dull sense of despair.
And I despaired now, though for what I was unsure. If this was a dream, shouldn't I savor it while it lasted, before the wakening bell tolled once more? And, if it wasn't…
I trailed off, not daring to let myself think the impossible. For the first time, I was curious: what kind of world had I created in my mind? Feeling an unprecedented leap of confidence, I started forward, glancing everywhere.
I jumped as a girl's face appeared on the wall. She had long tangles of raven hair and the widest blue eyes, looking like a frightened, out-of-place child. She was eerily thin, all bones. Her cheekbones protruded from her skull slightly, giving her a subtle elegance despite her dirty attire. I belatedly and shockingly realized that this girl was me.
With careful steps, I walked beyond the door, into the enchantress's room.
I should have expected awe; she was, after all, an enchantress. Of course she would possess magic beyond my imaginings. Even so, I had expected to see a dark room, perhaps with some magic orb in the center, or some herbs or potions. I hadn't expected this intake of colors.
The room was big. Not big compared to the barracks, but incomparably big for one person, at least to me. I doubted even Gilman had a chamber this large. On the far wall was a whole shelf of various bindings of papers. Curious, I strode over and opened one. It contained the same scribbles that a few of the guards knew. Mainly, they used lines and symbols, but I had heard a mention of a real system, a real language of plain squiggles. They seemed incomprehensible to me. Gazing at it closer, I noticed that several of the symbols repeated itself. I traced a random word with my finger. M-A-E-R-A-D. I wondered what it spelled.
Closing the book, I examined the cover. Seeing the lady, I almost dropped it. She was identical to the one in the other room- me. Only, in this picture, her hair blew in the wind, and she wore a fine green dress with meticulous embroidery at the belt. She carried a peasant's harp, like my own. Not like my own, it was my own. The girl was me.
Beyond the girl, the sky split in two. On one side, it was stormy and grey above a ruined land. On a scorched tree sat a deformed winged creature that glared back at me with cruel eyes. I shifted my eyes to the other side, much more pleasant to look at. The sky was a pure blue, lighting up a bright meadow. A man stood in the background, looking back at me with stern, yet not unkind eyes. He was handsome, which meant nothing to me. Men often hid behind the masks of handsomeness to disguise their cold hearts. Still, I couldn't help but think this man had some connection to me.
What was I doing on a book? I wondered if maybe the enchantress had made it. Maybe she had foreseen my coming. Except, she had seemed surprised when I arrive. She did seem to know me. I didn't dare think what that could mean.
I didn't let go of the book. I knew I shouldn't be rooting through the enchantress's belongings- doing so was probably a sure way to earn her wrath. But, if this was a dream, it was my dream. Besides, the woman had seemed benign enough.
Clutching the book, I studied the rest of the room. The enchantress seemed to own everything. She had a desk full of papers which in turn were full of elegant looking squiggles. And most impressive was the luxurious bed extruding from the wall opposite the room with the magical compartment. Thick, colored covers were sprawled carelessly across the thick mattress, wide and long enough to fit three of my cots. I could only imagine sleeping on such a cushioned surface; it was fine enough for a king. Finer, I thought. There were two- no, three- pillows at the head of the bed. The baseboard was made of some sort of elegant wood, and when I examined it further, I saw that there were etchings on each of the pillars, much different. For one, they were less even, as if they had been hand-etched on by an amateur. I couldn't imagine that the enchantress would be so careless. Then again, these were her chambers, generally a private place. Of course, she was of marrying age. I wondered if she had a husband. I wondered if he would return and find her mysteriously gone.
The thought frightened me. I tried brushing it away, but I couldn't simply ignore the thought of an enraged sorcerer of some sort bursting in the see me rooting through the belonging of his wife, who was mysteriously missing. I could picture his fiery eyes and furious powers all too well. All simulations resulted in my death, sometimes drowning in fire, sometimes skewered with some sort of staff, all because I couldn't tell him what I had done to his wife. The words could never leave my throat.
Shivering, I hastened my pace towards a radiant hole in the wall. I despised all men, especially those who wished harm on me. That was generally all of them, excepting Mirlad and the father I could never remember. Maybe not even him.
Pulling back a thin curtain, I gasped as I peered out of the hole- but, was it a hole at all? There was a strange reflectiveness to it; when I pressed my hand to it, I was startled to fine it was not a hole but a smooth, transparent surface. Even more surprising was the outside. Her world.
It looked out onto a sort of alleyway, filled with metallic cylindrical containers overflowing with litter. Papers fluttered in the breeze I could only assume was there. And beyond, there was a grey sky filling the gaps between towering buildings. Even the smaller ones were staggering to me, as the only settlement I had seen was Gilman's, and I had thought that large. The closer ones seemed colored soothing yellows, off-whites, and dull blues. They all had the same strange windows with shutters of varying colors: rose and black, brown and grey. Some had trays of flowers, barely budding in the mild spring weather. Others were undecorated other than small signs displaying more of those small scribbles and strange boxes fastened to poles. There weren't many trees, but I spotted a few lone birds drifting by.
In the distance, the buildings- no, towers- were staggering. To me, they seemed like mountains, only not so wide as tall and thin. I wondered how such a structure could stand without toppling haphazardly to the ground. Further on, I could hear the faint tolling of a deep sounding clock.
Slowly, I turned away, feeling insignificant and isolated in a world beyond my imagination. Far beyond my imagination, and yet, somehow, I was living in it this very minute. Now, I wasn't so certain this would be any better than life at Gilman's settlement.
This was no dream. Somehow, I had known all along that I would never wake up, wistfully wishing the fantasy had lasted. I was living in the fantasy. And I couldn't escape.
A feeling of uncertainty curled like a snake inside my stomach, followed by the feeling of anxiety which morphed into a feeling of utter terror at this giant world. Thrashing the curtains shut, I turned back to the bed, noticing the strange instrument that lay on top of the covers for the first time. It was metallic, like most of the strange items here, only it was a spring green color. When I approached it, music began emanating out of it, a rich and beautiful toned voice.
In the arms of an angel
Fly away from here
From this dark cold hotel room
And the endlessness that you fear
I stared at it, bewildered, uncertain whether to be amazed or terrified. It was like there was a singer with a whole ensemble playing, an invisible one. Perhaps this was some form of communication.
You are pulled from the wreckage
Of your silent reverie
You're in the arms of the angel
May you find some comfort there.
As abruptly as it had started, it stopped, the music gone. I was half disappointed, half relieved. Disappointed because it had been so beautiful, the lyrics true, the voice soft. Relieved because nothing drastic was happening. Yet.
Someone was coming. I didn't hear them, but the music seemed to be some sort of summoning. Besides, an inner sense that told me someone was on there way to see the enchantress. What would they do when they found me?
Unless they didn't find me. Unless I was gone.
I did not want to leave the enchantress's haven. Surely it was safe, if nothing else in this world. But if I stayed here, I knew I would be discovered and probably accused of kidnapping and theft. I wondered what the penalty would be. For someone so important, surely it was high. Sold into slavery again, perhaps, or execution. Maybe they would torture me for information first. And it was these gruesome thoughts that prompted me forward.
I grabbed the device, a rather rash movement. Once it was in my hand, I hesitated, as if waiting for something terrible to happen. When nothing did, I decided it was safe; perhaps I could get word to the enchantress this way. If not, at least it was something. Maybe I could sell it for whatever sort of currency they used here. Either way, I felt safer with it, as if the enchantress could simply jump out of it at any moment to rescue me from any danger. Unlikely, but possible.
Glancing around the room, I spotted a strange sort of sack. It was black with strange straps on the back. Picking it up, I saw that it was made out of some sort of smooth fabric, with pockets shut by metallic locks that seemed to have no keyhole. After pulling at them for a while, one slipped sideways and opened, revealing a large pocket. Inside, there was a notebook, some utensils, and a thick looking manuscript. Gently, I placed the book and music device inside the pocket, hoping that neither would be jostled too much.
Studying the room, I picked up a few other items, ordinary ones like a small blanket and magical ones like a small green square with a circle in the center and a device that lit up when a button was pressed. I went as quickly as I could.
I was afraid. Terrified. Of being discovered, and of the endless world outside this room. I simply had to decide which terrified me less.
The rational decision would be to wait for the enchantress to return. Except, if I had gotten her trapped in my own dimension of drudgery, she might not be able to return, and when she did, doubtless she would be angry with me. I did not want to face her wrath.
I locked the sack up, if that was the right word. Experimenting, I decided that the two straps were for my two arms and that it was meant to be carried on my back.
Without a further glance, I stumbled out of the room and down the stairwell at the end of the hall. I desperately hoped I would not be seen; being an enchantress clearly of some status, she was likely to have servants or, worse, slaves. Then again, perhaps she lived in isolation. It was a huge establishment for only one person, and I noticed other chambers, so I guessed that was not the case.
The stairwell led into another short hallway, which in turn led me to an open room with a wooden table and cabinets lining the walls. Like in the enchantress's room, there were metallic devices everywhere, but there were also simple ones that I recognized, like spoons and a rolling pin. I deduced that this was the kitchen.
I did not want to steal from the enchantress. I did not want to anger her. Yet, I had done both already. Why would a little bit more matter?
I weighed the outcomes and decided it would best to steal if for survival. I could repay her later. I hoped.
For once, I stepped without fear. Perhaps it was the semi-familiar environment, or maybe I had simply given up being afraid of stealing. The enchantress had seemed kind to me. It was like to be a trick, but I didn't care.
As I suspected, the cabinets contained food, in bags and jars. There were utensils and bowls as well, but I ignored those. They would only take up room, and they would be heavy, so there would be no use in taking them.
After I had gathered all of the food I could- nuts, fruits, bread, and crackers mainly- I wandered into the next room, I saw that I was at the end of my journey at last. There was a door, a fair-sized wooden one. My thoughts were still on my thefts. I hoped the food would last. If I rationed it, it might be enough for a week or more. Who knew when I would find more? Or how I would get more?
There was so much about this world I didn't know. I'd say I was afraid, but I was tired of fear. Throwing the door open, I gazed outside for the first time, the breeze rustling my hair. I tried to take everything in, but there was too much. It was much like the alley, only bigger and more real. A long road wound out, settlements on either side of it. At the sides, there were giant monstrosities, metallic and angry looking. As I watched, one of them raced down the road, leaving me breathing in its exhaust, a thick, disgusting smoke. I guessed these were some sort of transports.
Anxiety rose up from within me, but I forced it away. This was my world now. My world.
Feigning confidence I wasn't sure I could ever find, I took my first step outdoors. I had expected some dramatic change. But there was nothing but the same breeze.
I was alone. But I was free.
I used that the urge me onward, down the road and into the city, as I was sure that was where people would be. I was terrified beyond imagination, especially of meeting any people, but I knew that I needed help understanding this world, even if I only observed what people were doing.
I don't know how long I walked. The city had seemed close, with its towering buildings and all. It probably was close, for those people in the transports at least. They had startled me the first few times I had seen them, but I was getting used to them.
The buildings just seemed to get bigger and bigger. Already night was falling, and I was just entering the cote of the city, where many other pedestrians were hurrying along the paths along the sides of the streets. The street congestion was brutal, like everyone was trying to get somewhere at the same time.
Sighing, I began crossing the street. I had no idea where I was going. Somewhere to sleep, I supposed. That would probably end up being outside. At least it was spring.
A loud horn honked right next to my ears, and I turned, face to face with a transport reeling towards me at a high speed. I stayed, frozen to the spot. I had thought the humans had control over the vehicles. Perhaps this one was broken…
I hardly had time to process the bright headlights drawing hastily closer. Yet again, fear coursed through my body, this time of another sort. It couldn't hit me, this strange transport could not hurt me. It was magic, and magic was good, right? For some reason, that didn't comfort me.
Time seemed to pass at an abnormal rate, as if giving me time to take everything in. The blinding orbs, the growing shouts, the blaring horns. Yet I could not move.
It happened too fast, I wasn't quite sure how I was saved. Somehow, I found myself on the opposite side of the street, shaken, yet unharmed. My hands were trembling- no, my whole body was trembling, and not from the cold. When I looked up, I gave a start: there was a man with his arms on me.
"Are you crazy?" he shouted. "Are you trying to kill yourself?"
"No, I… killing myself would not be good," I stammered, hoping I didn't sound too dumb. My voice was strange, hoarse for some reason.
"Yeah, well what else could you be getting at? Running out into the street like that? At rush hour? You should have been killed."
"I'm sorry," I mumbled, not sure how to handle this. His hand felt uncomfortable around my arm, squeezed tight, as if he was afraid I'd dash off again.
"Don't be sorry to me, be sorry to yourself," he grumbled, releasing my arm. In turn, I snatched my arm back, holding it close to my chest. He had saved my life from what I gathered, and men who did deeds like that usually wanted rewards. Awful rewards.
As realization struck me, I looked up at him in pure terror. Of all the things in this world, he terrified me the most. He didn't look evil; most men didn't. This one had blonde hair, grown out slightly. He had green eyes, and he was tall, as if he was important. He wore a black coat and the blue pants in the style of the enchantress. At first, his expression was angry, then startled, then confused.
"I won't let you," I said, trying to sound confident, though my skin was ice, and my heart was pounding. I got ready to run if he approached. Doubtless he could outrun me, but maybe if there were enough people, I could lose him in the crowd.
"You won't let yourself be sorry?" He glanced around, as if trying to find a plausible reason for my terror. "Look, I'm sorry if you wanted to be hit by a car…"
"Rape me."
"What?" he seemed taken aback.
"Rape me. I won't let you." My hands were trembling uncontrollably now, and my voice quavered.
"Who do you think I am?" the man demanded.
I stared back at him.
"Honestly, people these days," he mumbled. "I save you from a car, and you think I'm going to rape you?"
"I caused trouble," I said softly. "I am not supposed to be trouble."
"Most things aren't. The government, for example, but does that stop them?"
I didn't exactly understand the last statement, and I didn't try to. All that mattered was that he wasn't making any move towards me.
"You're not going to rape me?" I asked.
"I am still not going to rape you," he confirmed. "Even if you want me to."
"But, why?"
"Um, because that's what civilized people do. Or, don't do."
"Why did you save me, if not to rape me?" I questioned. He looked at me as if the answer was obvious. Taking another step back, I cried, "What is it you want? I have nothing, nothing!"
With that, I bolted, not looking back. When I finally dared to, he was not following me. Belatedly, I wondered if he could have given me any help. But, no. Men were ambitious creatures. He had probably been trying to lure me to him by comforting me.
I continued my journey, but I quickly discovered that there was nowhere for me to go. I was tired- my breaks were frequent now- and besides that, the pedestrians were rapidly vanishing, replaced by dark looking men, the kind who might actually be the ones to rape a helpless woman.
Finally, when I decided I could go no further, I slumped into a backwater alley. There were trash heaps and papers everywhere, but at least it was deserted.
I rationed my food out and ate my allotted supper, but it left me with an emptier feeling that I had started with. Sooner or later, I would need to get more food. Sooner or later, they would find out what I had done to the enchantress and come after me, even when I was not certain what I had done myself. Sooner or later, I would be doomed. Perhaps this place was a prison of another sort. I almost found myself wishing that when I drifted off to sleep, I would wake up again in Gilman's cot. I never thought I would wish that.
As I lay down to sleep, I glanced at the stars, looking for Ilion, my star, but it was nowhere in sight. I could hardly see the stars with all the grey fog clouding the city, but the moon was full, lighting up the alley so I could see the filth and vermin I was making my temporary home.
I needed to get out of here. But there was nowhere to go.
I was free now. But free of what?
If you have a free moment, please, R&R.
