Ahiru

"Uh-uh!" Gullible or virtuous? Either way, she couldn't have seen it coming.

"This is going to sound crazy. But I've never been very good at lying… so I might as well tell the truth." Ahiru smoothed a well-worn sheet of parchment with slim, trembling fingers. On the thin sheet was faded writing in scrawling black ink.

"Is it going to involve the story of why you aren't a duck anymore?" Rue asked. "Because you're obviously a human now."

Ahiru nodded. "Rue and Edel, you two already know the beginning of the story. But for everyone else...

I might look human, but I'm really a duck. The storyteller gave me a chance to rise above my standing and save the prince. He told me I could become a beautiful ballerina princess with the power to return heart shards and restore the prince's heart. I loved the prince. It was a pure, selfless love; I would do anything, even die, to help him. I played my part willingly, even though I knew that I was fated to vanish in a speck of light at the end of the tale.

At first I hated Fakir. He was the best kind of adversary, the kind that challenged me in ways I had never expected. But somewhere along the way, things changed. We started working together. We both wanted to save the prince. We both loved him (just not in the same way).

Then…it turned out…the prince, he didn't love me. He had his own princess. That was you, Rue. I was so happy for you!

But then came the evil raven, who wanted Mytho's heart, and Drosselmeyer was laughing at us, telling us that he'd doom us to a tragedy.

Fakir was also a writer with incredible power. Strangely enough, he's a descendant of Drosselmeyer, and his stories can become reality. He wrote a happy ending for me, allowed for me to remain as a duck rather than vanish as a speck of light. The prince defeated the evil raven and returned with his princess returned to the land of fantasy to live happily ever after.

But what about us? Fakir had promised me that he would stay by my side, even though I was a duck. He's not the type to break his word.

So, for a while, he took me in and we lived together. He stopped going to the ballet academy so often and instead focused on writing. He would always write these stories, but he'd never show me what they were. Deep down in my heart, I hoped he was trying to help me return to being a girl.

You know how it is to be a duck? To try to dance, trip on webbed feet and fall through the marshes and flap your wings helplessly at the unfairness of it all? To look at human faces, try to smile and realize you couldn't convey meaningful emotion if you tried? To struggle with words you cannot say...realize with euphoria that you can write words in the dirt and let people know what you're thinking...and then realize with defeat that you couldn't ever have enough dexterity to handle that stupid twig, even when Fakir's looking at you and he wondering what you're trying to do, and you go back to swimming in the pond, because that's the only thing that you can still do as a duck.

And then you simply give up at one point. You quit trying to be like a human. I think I was beginning to forget, a little. Just a little. I don't remember how much I forgot, but anyway...it all came back later.

I didn't want to be selfish, though. Most likely, Fakir saw me as just a friend. A beloved friend, but a friend nevertheless. Or maybe just a pet.

So I waited. I now know I shouldn't have. Then this wouldn't have happened.

But it did.

I remember that morning. It was both the best and the worst of my life. It was a chilly November dawn, and I was tucked in between my sheets. Oh, how cold it was! So, so cold. I brought my arms closer to my chest, curling my fingers…

And then I opened my eyes. I wiggled my fingers and toes, ran a jubilant hand through my crimson hair. It hit me. Fakir had managed to do it! I was human again!

Was I naked? Yes. Did I quickly find something to wear? No. I couldn't find anything nearby, so I wrapped my blanket around myself like a cape and tiptoed over to his closet and found one of his old shirts to use as a dress.

I stole a glance towards him, fast asleep in his chair, slumped over his writing desk.

He'd written me back! And…I was now…human! And he cared about me enough to write about me! I remember thinking how tired he looked, and shedding the blanket from my shoulders I crept towards him.

But what were those papers beneath his hand? I had to read whatever he had written. Once he woke up, I knew he'd never let me see it. And I was so curious!

Excitedly, I worked the paper out from beneath his ink-stained hand and read.

Once upon a time, there was a duck with the heart of a girl, a girl with the body of a duck. She was virtuous, beautiful, and kind, selflessly sacrificing all she had the fortune to possess for her prince.

The story had ended, and ex-knight writer knew that a transformation from duck to human was no small matter. Yet, he had resolved that this duck deserved to be human once more.

For each of the twelve times he had tried to write her into a human form, he had failed. It was on a freezing November night that he realized what was to be done. A sacrifice was to be made, a sacrifice equal in worth what was to be gained. She would gain a new life as a human, but what was equal in worth to something as intangible as the opportunity to become human once more?

"An eye for an eye...a life for a life." The storyteller's voice murmured from above.

The young man knew that the storyteller was watching, waiting for him to pen a story heartwrenching beyond his wildest dreams.

So he wrote the fateful words, taking care to be short and efficient in his work.

The little duck was granted a human form, which would remain with her forever, in exchange for the greatest sacrifice the young man could give. The girl would become, once again, the sweet and courageous Ahiru.

The storyteller would have his tragedy at last, but the little duck would be safe.

As she slept, her feathers disappeared into pale skin, her wings elongated into dainty arms, her beak shimmered into delicate features, and her crimson hair rippled down her back once more. She had become Ahiru again, ready to begin a new life.

He already felt his strength fading as the transformation completed.

I thought there'd be time. She has to know. I've never told her. I didn't…

Ahiru, I love you.

I had barely finished reading before a sickening thud resounded in my stomach.

"No. No." I whispered, and then I knelt by Fakir's side. "You have to wake up. Fakir, please listen to me. You have to. Please! I love you too! I…FAKIR!"

I shook one of his shoulders lightly at first, and then with all the intensity I could muster. He didn't stir.

With horror, I realized that he was truly gone.

"FAKIR!" I cried. "Fa….Fakir…" And then I was weeping, gut-wrenching sobs, as all my strength disappeared. Not only did he care about me and try to write me back into a girl, but he had loved me. And I'd never told him…I loved him back.

I couldn't know that the tragedy wasn't complete yet. The world had collapsed around me. I thought life couldn't possibly get any worse.

It did.

Charon burst in through the door.

"What happened?" He asked, and then his eyes widened at the sight of me in a distressed heap on the floor.

Overcome by worry, he rushed to Fakir and came to the same conclusion I did. His face crumpled in what looked like agony almost equal to mine.

"He's dead! I'm sorry." I whispered, the paper clenched in my fingers. "Oh, Fakir…I…I'm sorry…"

Without another word, Charon turned and went through the door.

I was too shocked and confused to move, explain myself, or even do anything. I simply waited.

It wasn't until fifteen minutes later that they came. Two burly-looking men in uniforms swooped in and grabbed me by the upper arms. I hung limply for a few seconds, and then reality kicked in. I began to fight, but they had already dragged me halfway through the door.

"No! You can't take me! I didn't…I didn't…NO!" I screamed, as they hauled me out the door and away from Fakir.

Eventually, the world around me became a blur. I tried to explain myself at the police station, but nobody listened to me. We weren't living in a fairy-tale land anymore. This was reality, and they took me as a lunatic.

There were people telling me that I'd done a terrible thing, and I tried to explain myself, but no one listened. I showed anyone who would look the paper that Fakir had written, screamed myself hoarse.

Nobody cared.

Apparently there are multiple chemicals I could've used to poison him that wouldn't leave a trace in the autopsy. I denied everything they said, but...

What am I doing here? I've been taken to the murderess' cell block, where almost all the girls here killed someone! I saw so many familiar faces I could hardly believe it…

But I didn't do it! I didn't murder Fakir…I loved him…

I am…not. guilty."