Chapter 12: Fairy Godmother

I stared at the old woman, full of uncertainty at her sudden intrusion into my sheltered life; I shouldn't trust strangers so easily, I thought, staring into her blue eyes; she smiled, understandingly, and raised her small walking stick as if to reinforce the invitation. I offered her a warm smile, bit back all uncertainty, and took a step into the small cottage. After all, she had saved my life-- there was no use denying it. There was some merit in that, wasn't there?

But all the same, Elaine showing up so suddenly, and without any warning of any kind was quite unnerving. But, I had no one else to trust, and if she ended up murdering me-- well, hadn't that been the whole point of the dagger? There could be no more regrets. I stepped over the threshold with little hesitation, all the while hoping against all hope that I would find no more misery here.

My first impression of the place was, and would remain limited to one word: strange; to be frank, there just was no other way to describe it; a spacious living-room with a few sitting-chairs, a kitchen, and a miniscule dining-table laden with strange books, papers, and dishes left over from breakfast... My eyes widened in surprise as I found tall bookshelves lined with thousands of books with titles written in strange languages, "It's so wonderful," I whispered, taking it all in, and wandering further.

"Thank you," she whispered, laying her walking stick down in a small corner, and following my gaze down the hall, "the second bedroom is yours... It gets lonely here. I haven't had any visitors here in years."

Without invitation, I walked closer towards the bookshelves; my eyes fell upon an dusty Encyclopedia-sized book entitled Prophecies; my hand inched towards it, but Elaine cut me short, "There will be much time for reading once you're settled in, and have had some decent food in your stomach."

I nodded, and returned my gaze to Elaine, and my smile widened as I discovered that she had already prepared a late lunch for the both of us.

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After our afternoon meal, Elaine led me into the room that would serve as my bedroom for 'as long as I desired.' I smiled to myself; Elaine was the definition of a perfect grandmother-- all smiles and stories. She lay me down upon a feathered mattress, and handed me a goblet filled with a strange silver liquid.

"What is this?" I asked, sniffing it, and turning my nose up.

"A medicinal potion... You have many scars to heal-- on the interior and exterior as well. Drink it, and you will sleep untroubled."

"How do you know so much about me?" I asked, as the fragrance of the liquid crept into my nostrils.

"I just do."

I drank the strange drink, and slept for four days without waking.

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When I woke on the fourth day, I found the empty goblet beside me on a small table, and I realized that Elaine's rescue hadn't been all a dream. I smiled, and tried to place my finger on what the potion had done to me as I had slept.

In the closet, I found a long summer dress. It was a bit old-fashioned for my taste, but what could you expect? Elaine probably hadn't had children-- teenagers with her in quite a while.

I quickly dressed, and found a small basin of cool water to wash my face in; she really had thought of everything.

When I came out of my bedroom, I found that Elaine was nowhere to be seen. A note amid the mess on the dining-table informed me that if I was hungry, there was food in the larder, and that Elaine would be back by the following week.

And it was then that I finally realized it.

The strange potion had done what nothing else had since my mother's death; it had repaired me-- restored me...

It had made me whole.

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Elaine returned the following week as promised.

I had found a broom and had swept the cottage, and she was very pleased with me.

When I asked her where she had been, she simply changed the subject by saying that she would hurry up and fix breakfast-- although it was already eight o'clock at night.

And come to think of it, no matter how many times I asked her where she had been, she never told me.

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As the minutes quickly became hours, and the hours in turn became days, I soon learned to love the old woman who had save me from myself more and more with each passing day. She became somewhat of a friend and mother to me; she fed me, clothed me, and even began teaching me French... I began to love the old woman-- the only friend I had known in a very long time.

Days were spent inside of her roomy cottage; us telling each-other of our past... I learned that she had spent her early childhood in England, and her father had been a merchant. During an outbreak of the plague, she had lost both her mother and father; her and her little sister had come here with a distant cousin almost thirty years ago.

It was then that I remembered a question I had been wondering for the longest time, "But where exactly is here?" I asked one day after she had finished another of her fascinating stories.

"You mean you don't know?" she asked, putting down the spoon that she had been stirring her porridge with.

I shook my head in reply, as I buttered a piece of toast, "My stepmother didn't exactly tell me where or when she was sending me, Elaine-- I thought you would have gathered that by now."

"Well," she began, resuming her feaverous stirring to cool the scalding hot meal, "the year is 1800."

" '1800!' " I repeated, hardly believing it, my jaw dropping to the floor, and the slightly brown piece of toast failing to reach my lips, "You mean we're in the nineteenth century?"

She nodded, nonplused in her reply, "And this country is called D'Nalge."

" 'D' Nalge?' " I repeated; my appetite suddenly forgotten in all the confusion, "What is that? French?"

"Not exactly."

"Well, pardon me, dear Elaine, but... I'm pretty sure I never heard of a country called 'D'Nalge' on the earth before... or in the universe for that matter. Just tell me the truth. Jacqueline was a scheming bitch, but she didn't have magical powers of any sort-- otherwise, she would have killed me with one spell."

"People can have those powers and choose not to use them-- no matter how much they wish to. Jacqueline was careful," a small smile formed upon her small lips, "and this isn't exactly the earth either, my dear child."

My head was swimming with all of the nonsense I had just heard, "Are you trying to tell me that my stepmother not only sent me over two-hundred years back in time-- which is already hard enough to believe-- but to another world as well?"

She nodded in reply, "But that's still not all, Beatrice."

"Oh, really, don't tell me!" I closed my eyes in mock concentration, "You're my dead father in disguise."

"No, I'm your fairy godmother."