A/N: Thank you again to all who have recently reviewed/favourited/followed my story. Feel free to keep adding your comments - it's nice to know that people are reading, and what you think...
Age 19: Two Worlds Collide
At 19 the magic was stirred by desire, and two worlds collided…
The vaulted roof radiated ornate splendour; the huge, high-set windows threw in shafts of natural light which illuminated it to perfection. The room itself was a masterpiece: the perfect showcase for the many wonders frequently housed in the exhibition hall.
Sarah loved this annex of the gallery, where visiting exhibits were displayed.
It was a clash of contrasts - regularly something new to see, and something exquisitely the same; this room beyond compare. The stillness and serenity made it the perfect place of appreciation. She felt peace when she visited and had lost many hours wandering slowly and deliberately from painting to painting, absorbing the smallest details.
Sometimes she would just sit and appreciate the atmosphere, watching other visitors react to the artwork. This season the gallery boasted a renaissance collection: exotic and compelling, it showcased luxurious, ancient locations; Venice, Florence and Rome.
Sarah became so enamoured with this collection that one visit simply wasn't enough; she excused herself from her friends, who were visiting the modern section of the gallery, so she could see the exhibition again. She delighted in paintings so detailed they almost invited the viewer to step inside them, into the very worlds they depicted.
She relaxed into a comfortable chair beside a small painting featuring a finely detailed bridge over a Venetian canal. It was truly wonderful, and fuelled her desire to travel, but something else demanded her attention, and she was drawn to another painting, for the simple reason that it was a recent addition to the collection. Puzzled, Sarah drew closer; displays were rarely altered once they were established, so the new painting was doubly intriguing.
It featured a Venetian masquerade, captured at its peak - a whirling dance of festivity, elegance, and mystery; the dancers wore elaborate masks, concealing their faces.
Sarah moved closer, probably closer than was permitted, but this painting invited inspection, it encouraged participation in this lavish grand ball on a warm summer evening in Venice of a bygone era.
The women were stunning in floor-sweeping gowns, bejewelled and laced, and the men were dashingly handsome, cloaked in mystery as their masks hid their faces from eager scrutiny.
So lifelike she mused, and was startled from her reverie by an astonished exclamation from someone standing behind her.
"That's impossible. Incredible. Come and look at this" a woman yelled, breaking the peaceful silence. Scandalised visitors cast her sharp glances for her total lack of propriety.
One stern-faced woman was poised to object, when her eye settled on the painting and her mouth dropped open in silent astonishment. She grasped the arm of the man beside her and pulled him around, pointing, unable to articulate what she was seeing.
Others followed suit, turning to witness the commotion, but rendered either speechless or rapidly over-reactive as they saw the painting.
Sarah felt colour rush to her cheeks - standing before what had become the main attraction she felt as if she was under a spotlight, while everyone gawped at her. She didn't see it at first, but a horrible realisation dawned.
Not again, please, not again, she willed, casting guilty eyes up to the painting she had so admired...
The painted party was literally in full swing: the dancers moved and swayed in a lavish manner, in time to a rhythm only they could hear. They moved as one, a sea of decadent humanity, and beyond the vast windows that framed the ballroom, lights twinkled across the city as darkness fell, and the great canals glittered to ever-moving life.
"No" Sarah spoke aloud, attempting to retreat, but a crowd had gathered and escape was impossible.
This will be like the theatre all over again she panicked.
"No" she repeated, to no one and everyone.
The loud woman who'd originally spotted this apparition looked at her quizzically, misunderstanding her repeated denials.
"This doesn't appeal to you young folk?" she spoke, disbelieving. "It's incredible, I would have thought you'd enjoy it."
Sarah feigned a smile and attempted to dodge out of the way, but to her dismay more people were gathering to see the now infamous painting, many of them flagrantly disregarding the rules regarding the use of cameras and videos; they held up various recording devices eagerly, desperate to preserve this modern wonder for all time, for surely nothing like it had ever been witnessed before. An excited hum filled the usually quiet room as they clamoured for the best view
Her escape failed, Sarah turned back, drawn completely to the carnival world that was gaining in detail; now she swore she could almost hear the fine music that kept those revellers moving with such grace and enthusiasm. She could smell the night air, and the enticing aroma of drinks being served. There was a hum of laughter and merriment that definitely did not come from the gallery itself.
Enough, I need to get out of here, right now…
She backed up blindly, straight into someone standing behind her, too close.
The world flashed blinding gold; everything spun wildly, and Sarah felt her stomach lurch uncontrollably at the shift.
She realised what had happened immediately, why she'd been able to experience so much more of the world beyond the canvas - she was inside the painting, and she knew, because it was inevitable, who she had stumbled into.
And so she turned to face the Goblin King, with four years of pent-up desire, anger, pretend indifference and countless other feelings she could hardly describe stirring within.