It's the eve of Christmas Eve! I hope you are all having very Merry Christmases. Here's a Christmas present from me to you.
Give up. The words drummed in her mind as loud as thunder when it shakes the house. Give up. A voice rasped the words out. It was a voice distorted with ire and contempt beyond recognition. It made her feel helpless. A feeling she feared.
Give up!
No. No. I can't. I can't give up. It was impossible to give up and to live a life that was forced upon her. A life she did not want. A life of no importance. No! I cannot live that life. I cannot give up!
Give up!
"No!" Abigail crashed back into reality from the horror of her dreams. Even in reality fear still gripped her in his noxious grip. All over her sweat poured down her body and she was practically hyperventilating. She hugged her knees into her chest and listened to the light rain shower going on outside and hoped that its light pattering would calm her down. Each raindrop emitted a single note as it collided with her windowsill that belonged to an untold rhythm. It was a serene sound. Nothing like the thunderstorm going on inside of her. No matter how soothing the sound was, it did not help her.
Fear still ravaged inside of her as it chilled her to the bone and muffled her spirit. She felt like she was choking. Every comment, every wretched feeling, every horror of her life weighed down on her chest forbidding her to breathe.
Give up. It was only a whisper now. All of the anger and contempt seemed to have washed away just leaving the faint words and the voice that said them. She then realized that it was her father's voice. At the realization she shook from the inside out.
Abigail remembered what her father had whispered to her the day Walker had left. It's time to finally give up. It had taken all of her will not to scream at him once the last word had left his lips. Yes, Father. She could still taste her reply on her tongue. It had been a lie. She would never give up, but she wanted him to feel this misleading satisfaction before he got what he deserved.
Her nerves would still not calm. There was one last thing she thought might calm her. On her bedside table she picked up a stone that was a little bit smaller than her palm. She closed her fingers around it enjoying the feeling of something hard and firm before she opened her hand again. Abigail leaned back and laid against the bed head and closed her eyes.
She reached deep within her mind and found that comforting spot in the back of her consciousness. Slowly the energy spread through her until it filled and thrummed in her entire being. The feeling brushed everything cold and ill away from her until it felt like such things didn't exist. She heaved a sigh of relief as her body relaxed.
After a few moments of just having the energy flow through her she put it to use. The pressure that the rock exerted in her hand steadily lifted. She opened her eyes and saw that the rock was rising above her hand. One inch. Two inches. Three. Four. Five inches. The rock stopped and refused to rise anymore. Abigail would have like to have it rise farther but decided not to press herself anymore. Even if she could only raise a rock five inches, it was still an impressive feat for someone who has only been a magician for ten days. She would be a fine magician indeed. No Ancient Language required.
She smiled and pressed the rock to her chest. Things were finally going to turn around. Abigail was chained to the life her father believed in and for once she felt like she could break free.
Movement at the corner of her eye caught her attention. Her one and only mirror hung on the wall. Rather than it looking clear, the surface looked murky. It looked like there were clouds just beneath the mirror's surface and they were swirling around like a storm was brewing. An icy dagger of fear stabbed deep into her heart. Her hand tightened around the stone. With all of her might she threw the stone at the mirror shattering it into a million pieces. The murkiness dissipated from each individual piece of the shattered mirror leaving them with crystal clear surfaces.
As quickly as the sound of breaking glass had broken the night silence invaded back in. Her parents had not even woken up or come to see where the noise had come from.
Abigail leaned back against the bed head again. Her blood was racing in her veins once more. Dammit! I need to compose myself. Being an open book in the world she was about to enter would be fatal. She focused on the calmness of the night until her muscles relaxed.
Once she was relaxed, she realized just how tired she was. I need to go to sleep. I have much to do in morning. Abigail laid back down and closed her eyes. It was not for a while but eventually she fell asleep.
It's necessary. Abigail stared disgustingly at the dress she had laid out before her across her bed. She had put it off for the past few days but now she had to do it. I really don't want to do this. But she wanted to make him believe in her ploy of her 'finding her place', and this was necessary to do it. She would have to stop wearing the new style for women which composed of a short tunic and long pants with boots for the old style of a dress and stockings. The majority of women still wore dresses but there were some women, like Abigail, who longed for a change and seized it the second it appeared.
The different feel of the dress wasn't the real thing holding her back. It was the fact that this was a major step in giving up her rebellion. I'm not really giving up. This is all merely a scheme. None of it is real. She bent over to pick the dress up and felt the soft cotton fabric between her fingers. And also the look on his face will be priceless.
She took her thin nightgown off. Before she started to dress, she took a moment to enjoy the feeling of being in only her bare skin. Her body was without a blemish. No scars, no bruises, and hardly any birthmarks to speak of. Soon, it would not be that way anymore. She couldn't help but to shudder. I'd rather not think about that now.
Abigail got dressed and headed downstairs into the dining room. When she entered the room, her father looked up from eating. A self-satisfied smile crept across his face when he saw her. She put on a nice gentle smile on her face to keep herself from snickering.
She sat down on her father's right side where her mother had already set her porridge down. Before she began eating, she placed her napkin in her lap like a lady and sat up straight in her seat.
"Tom and his son, Mandel, are coming over in the late afternoon to get their horses' new shoes. I invited them over to stay for dinner so we will have five people instead of . . . three." her father said.
That pig-faced Mandel. Curse him a thousand times. She had known since she was a little child that her father was going to marry her off as soon as he got the chance, and here he was pushing her and pig-faced Mandel together. I'm not even sixteen yet. Legally she could not marry until she was sixteen but she knew her father was preparing for her next birthday.
Abigail couldn't help but to notice how her father had hesitated to say 'three'. Walker's leaving had left a sensitive spot in her father. He felt sadness with a tinge of anger about having his 'pride and joy', his 'brave son', his 'darling heir' be gone forever. Her father was an open book to her. If only I had a chance to smile.
Her satisfaction melted away when her thoughts of their own accord wandered to her brother. For as long as she could remember he had been the darling little boy that everybody had to fall in love with at first sight. Walker had been kind and generous to a point that Abigail found irritating. He did not know of such things like the hate that was burning within her chest. He had been unable to hate.
'By Fate's unpredictable nature he still may give you what you so long for'. What was that supposed to mean? It had just been a futile attempt to make her understand about how 'he hadn't meant to do it'. A load of manure, she thought. I wonder where he got that from. She tried to think about it sarcastically but whenever the thought came up it made a pit of uneasiness settle into her stomach.
"Abigail!" Her father slapped the dinning table and snapped Abigail out of her reverie. Startled, she dropped her spoon onto the floor. "Abigail," her father said sternly.
She turned to look at him. "Yes, Father?" she said in her sweetest most innocent voice. Hopefully my face betrays nothing either.
"You were not listening to me." he said.
"I am sorry, Father."
"These are the kinds of manners I'm talking about. I was saying that when Tom and his son are here I want you to be on your best behavior. No daydreaming, no smart or back talk, no whatever other stuff you do. Am I clear?" He stared intensely into her eyes daring her to disobey him.
She stared right back into his eyes just as intensely and replied without even a single blink, "Yes, Father."
He leaned back into his chair, relaxed. "You dropped your spoon."
"Sorry, Father." Abigail bent down and picked up her spoon.
"And stop saying 'Father' all of the time." By his tone she guessed that he was annoyed.
"Yes, Fa–." She stopped herself in mid 'Father'. She had done it on purpose and she stole a glance at her father for his reaction. In her father's gaze she saw fire as he glared at her. He did not look happy. Abigail then realized to her dismay that she was smirking. She wiped it off of her face in less than a second but it was already too late. She had let her facade slip for one second. It was one second long enough for her father to stop being fooled.
Her father pointed his finger at her. "I want no kind of that behavior tonight, young lady." He pushed his chair back and stood up. "I'm going to the smith." he said and then walked away.
Why did I do that? Now I'll have to start from scratch again and it'll be even harder convincing him this time. But there'll be lots of chances to prove myself tonight.
Her mother got up also and took all of the plates to the kitchen to clean. "Mother." Abigail called after her.
"What, dear?"
"I'm going out for a walk. I'll be back by noon."
"Noon?" Her mother sounded shocked by how long she would be gone. Abigail could not afford to answer questions so she left quickly before her mother had a chance to ask them.
On her way out Abigail had grabbed a cloak so she could hide her face under the hood. She did not want anyone seeing her partake in this visit. If someone saw her, she would most likely die a lot sooner than she would like to. It would look awfully suspicious to have her, a young woman, associating with people of this kind of quality. The Domia abr kyn were already people of questionable honorability so it was thought that anyone that met with them were the same. The last thing Abigail needed was people to be suspicious about her. If people were suspicious and she did what she was going to do in the far future they would know it was her and she did not want to go to jail. But not doing anything suspicious wasn't enough to protect her. She needed insurance. And that was why she was making this visit.
She found the building she was looking for and stepped up onto the porch and knocked on the a few seconds of waiting a man opened the door. He was in his early twenties and rather handsome with short light blonde hair and a stubbly chin. His eyes were round and the irises were sky blue. She could tell he was surprised to see her by the way his eyes widened for a second when they focused upon her.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"I prefer not to answer any questions until I am invited in."
There was a pause before he replied, "Then come in." The man moved aside as she entered and closed the door behind her.
Abigail looked around and took in her surroundings. They were standing in a room with a large wooden table in the middle. Along the walls were many cabinets and shelves with a variety of scrolls, books, knives, and many things she had never seen or heard of before. The room was dim and the only sources of light were sunlight streaming in through the windows and a little lantern hanging from the ceiling over the center of the table.
"Who are you?" the man asked again.
"Abigail."
"And what do you want, Abigail?"
"First, to know your name."
"That is not important."
"I'd rather like to know." she pressed. If she was going to tell him of her deal, she really would like to know his name. It may come in handy later on.
"Lange." he said."Now, what do you want?" He was growing impatient with her.
Abigail pulled a chair out and sat down and she let her hood fall off. "I'm here to make a deal with the Domia abr kyn."
"What deal?" he stepped forward interested.
"You may not have realized but the new human Rider is my brother, Walker. The one you want dead."
"One of many."
"Well, I can help you kill him."
"How?"
"He is not just my brother, but my twin brother, and we have a connection that exceeds normal siblings. If one of us were to get hurt, the other would know immediately, no matter where we were." The last part was more of a bluff. She didn't know if it would work if they were miles apart since they had always been together but she had to hope that it would. "My brother is very protective of me. If he thinks that I'm in trouble he'll run back to find me no matter what. I know that he'll leave those people assigned to protect him and come after me by himself and with his dragon. While they are alone, you can kill them."
"And how will you be in danger so he can feel it?"
Abigail hesitated. She remembered that morning about how her body was without a blemish. She would miss being like that. Once she said it the idea would be so much more final but it had to be done. "You may torture me." she said in a low voice.
Lange drew back in shock. He had not been expecting that and he probably assumed now that she was mad. The idea had seemed a bit crazy to her when it had first come to mind but after considering many other options she had realized that it was the only way. Lange's eyes wandered around the room before coming to rest on her again.
He stepped closer to her and leaned over her as she sat in her chair. His face was within inches of hers. "And what would a girl like you want in return?"he smiled and his eyes took a moment to drop down her form.
She placed her hand on his chest and pushed him away. "I'm not that kind of girl. And what I desire is a bit more," she paused, "pricey."
Lange took a step back. "And what is it?" That's aggravation I catch in his voice, isn't it. Pervert.
"The Domia abr kyn has friends in high places I believe. Something will happen. In a few months or a few days, I will not say. But when it does I want the Domia abr kyn to see that I'm kept safe and no harm or accusations fall upon me. That is all I ask." she said.
"Excuse me." he said and walked out of the room. When he returned, he was followed by a man whom Abigail had seen before. She had seen him that night in the street when she and her family had followed Walker when he had run away. One of the men protecting Walker had called him Edoc'sil.
Edoc'sil sat down in a chair across the table from Abigail. "What is this deal that I have heard of?" he said as he leaned forward.
Abigail repeated what she had told Lange earlier. "Is it a deal?" she asked when she was finished.
"Why?" he asked.
"Why what?"
"Why do you want to help us get rid of your brother?"
Before she replied, she thought over what she was about to say. "Because he took something from me. Something that I wanted. Since he took it, I now can never have it. I want my revenge."
"And I believe that thing that he took from you was the chance to become a Rider. Was it not? And also why should we make a deal with someone who is in league with the Riders?"
"Yes, that is true. I longed to a Rider for so long. But I want to help you now because I have seen the light just as you have. I now know that dragons are idiots and worthless creatures that are better off extinct. Yes, I wanted to be a rider but I desire that path no more." She waited for his reply.
"We need to test you to see if you are lying to us. To test you we need you to say so in the Ancient Language. Will you?"
"Yes, if you tell me the words."
"Repeat after me: Eka huildr aí gaoineã itf brötrer iet sem klinay sieydom iete aië älfr ewoand iu eka ewoand."
It didn't seem right to repeat this binding oath with only having the words of others that it meant a certain thing. Edoc'sil knew full well that people of her class didn't know any words of the Ancient Language. He could trick her into doing something fatal and she wouldn't know of it. I'll have to take the risk, but I won't ever do something like this again. She repeated the phrase back to him.
"Our deal is done." Edoc'sil said. He extended his hand out to her. She took his hand and shook it.
"Done."
Did you like it? If you did (or if you have any suggestions) please, Please, PLEASE review. I would absolutely love it if you did. Have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! I know, it's the same thing I said at the end of Chapter 4, but REALLY please review.