The Protector

     ‘Rock-a-bye, baby…’

     The first part of my life that I remember was this moment, so I refer to it as the first day of my life. A mother, her voice so gentle and sweet, singing softly to her newborn baby girl. The girl was cradled in her arms, both eyes closed, somewhere with the Faeries in dreamland. A soft patter of rain was audible, just beneath the melody of her voice, pressing against the windows.

     I watched them from my position in the cradle. They looked so beautiful together. If I could move, and if I could speak, I may have smiled; or I may have said something and ruined the quiet moment altogether.

     The door to the bedroom creaked open. In stepped a man, smiling with pride as he approached his family. ‘Honey,’ he said quietly. ‘You need to let her sleep now. We need to sleep, too.’

     ‘I hate leaving her,’ the mother sighed. ‘I feel better with her in my arms.’

     ‘You know Annabel’s safe in here. After all, she has Knitsie,’ said the man, with his arms around her, and his dark, dark eyes, which were now directed at me.

     Knitsie, I thought. That’s my name. That’s me.

     Annabel’s mother smiled, also looking towards me. Her face was so kind. ‘That’s right,’ she said, with a gentle laugh. ‘Knitsie is her protector.’

     As they carefully placed Annabel back with me in her crib, I allowed myself to feel my first intense emotions. I was a protector, and it was my duty to watch over this little girl. I could feel it. It was my purpose in life, and I was ready to accept it.

     Both parents finally left the tiny bedroom. Annabel stirred slightly in her sleep, with a little gargle, a soft noise that babies make. I watched her eyes twitch beneath her eyelids. Her tiny hands closed into tight fists before immediately releasing again.

     Knitsie, Annabel’s protector. Her tiny plushie Aisha. I was hers from that moment for the rest of my life.

     *

     Five years later, Annabel was a whirlwind of energy and curiosity. She took me everywhere. She liked to explore the woodlands just beyond our house, under the careful supervision of her father and the neighbours, and other Neopets would flock to her. Large Werelupes in the woods with sharp teeth never fazed her; she would approach them with her small hands and bright eyes, and their ears would lower, their demeanour changing entirely as they allowed her to pet them. It was like this every single day. Annabel was naturally trusting, and something about her caused everyone else around her to feel calm and safe.

     Her mother had died very shortly after the first day of our lives. Annabel would never remember, but I remembered the awful days that followed, where her father descended into a frenzy. He began to disappear for several days at a time. The neighbours assisted with looking after Annabel, especially as she grew up, but I knew it was mainly down to me. It was what her mother wanted.

     But Annabel’s father kept disappearing for long periods at a time. Each time he came back, he looked worse. His eyes would be red-rimmed, and his hair would be increasingly ruffled and dirty. He began to look like he hadn’t slept in years.

     I was worried for him, but what could I do?

     Annabel, of course, never noticed. She was just annoyed that her father wasn’t around much. And when she took me out on her little adventures, she would vehemently express this annoyance to other pets, or to anyone else that would listen.

     ‘I think he’s going to forget my birthday,’ she was saying to a beautiful woodland Ixi, plucking daisies from the grass. I was placed precariously in her lap as usual, so I felt her sigh more than heard it as she spoke. ‘He almost did last year. But now it’s like I never see him anyway.’

     I watched the Ixi approach us, cautiously at first. Annabel reached out a hand and waited patiently. The Ixi came closer still, and eventually nosed Annabel’s hand. Annabel giggled, delighted.

     ‘You’ll remember my birthday, won’t you?’ she asked softly.

     The Ixi said nothing, but stood still, allowing Annabel’s gentle hand to run across its neck.

     Eventually, Annabel stood, holding me by my paw in one hand. ‘We’re going to head home,’ she told the Ixi, then smiled down at me. ‘Come on, then, Knitsie. Let’s go get some food.’

     Our home was situated in a beautiful area just beyond the skirts of Brightvale. There were luscious green forests all around us, and the community was very small and close. Everyone knew us as we walked back through the winding path towards our home. Neighbours recognised Annabel’s face and would wave, asking how she was.

     I knew, really, that they were pretending they hadn’t been watching over us, keeping an eye on her the whole time.

     Annabel liked to feel independent. She felt very separated from the rest of the community, suspecting that they were only so friendly to her because her father wasn’t around. It was as if they all felt responsible for her, and she was growing to resent that. I didn’t want her to isolate herself the way she was, but I knew that she had me, and she knew that, too.

     She had already taught herself to cook. She was an extremely intelligent young girl. I watched from the countertop as she prepared herself a small meal, and she would always sit a little plate in front of me, even though I couldn’t eat it. Then when she was finished, she’d grin at me and take our plates to go and clean.

     It was almost heartbreaking to watch her act so grown up.

     At night, she laid in bed with me, and the moonlight fell across her face, colouring her hair a pale silver. Her eyes looked almost white. The youth in her face was so prominent at night time, when the stars outside danced across her skin.

     ‘Good night, Knitsie,’ she whispered into the quiet night. ‘I love you.’

     I couldn’t reply, but I hoped she knew that hers was the only love I would ever need.

     *

     There was a thunderstorm that night.

     It woke both of us when a particularly loud burst of thunder seemed to shake the entire house. Annabel reached for me and pulled me close. I could hear her heartbeat pounding against her chest. She was afraid. She was holding me extra tight.

     I listened to the rain lashing against the windows. Every so often, the room would light up with an intense flash of lightning, and the noise of the thunder only seemed to increase.

     Then, amidst it all, there was a different noise. There was a crash, but it came from inside the house.

     Annabel had heard it too. ‘There’s someone in the house,’ she hissed to me. Her hands were shaking now. ‘I heard it. I hear them.’

     Footsteps came crashing up the stairs, akin to the thunder itself, but louder. Being crushed against Annabel’s chest, I could only see darkness. But I could hear everything. The thunder, the rain, the footsteps, the crashing. Her rapid heart.

     Suddenly the door burst open, and Annabel screamed.

     ‘Baby, it’s me,’ panted a voice that I recognised instantly.

     ‘Daddy?’ Annabel cried. ‘You scared me!’

     ‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,’ he said, rushing over to her bed. Annabel sat up, letting me fall to the bed as her father brought her into a tight embrace. ‘I’m here, it's alright, you’re safe.’

     They stayed like that for a very long time. Annabel’s father stroked her hair, singing softly under his breath. She stopped shaking and closed her eyes. I watched from the bed.

     The storm had finally started to die down when Annabel’s father let go, leaning back so that he was staring into her eyes. ‘My girl, I need to tell you something,’ he said.

     ‘What is it?’ she asked, her eyes so big and round.

     I noticed his face: he was so worn down, so sad. There were black circles beneath his eyes, and his hair, still damp from the rain, was messy and dishevelled. He looked like he had given up on something, but I didn’t know what it was.

     ‘There’s something you don’t know about me,’ he said quietly. ‘The truth is, Annabel, I’m a mage.’

     Annabel squinted. ‘A what?’

     ‘It’s a long story,’ he said. ‘It’s going to take some time to explain.’

     And so he did. They sat together against the headboard, with Annabel cradled in her father’s lap, listening intently as he told his story. He was a mage of Brightvale, a magic that had been inherently passed down from his father, and his father’s father, and so on. He could create things out of thin air, and he worked on magical potions for the Faeries in Faerieland. He could help the sick, the wounded, everyone. He was a teacher, he said, and he needed to pass on the knowledge of magic to others, because it was his duty. He was a very, very powerful man.

     But there was more to the story that he wasn’t telling us. I knew this because I watched his face as he spoke, which Annabel couldn’t see from her position. Silent tears were streaming from his eyes. His heart was broken.

     I suddenly understood something. He was telling Annabel the truth now because he was going to leave, and he was never going to come home.

     Annabel, as innocent as she was, did not know this. She listened with wide, fascinated eyes, and a tiny smile on her face. She was picturing the magic in her head, I just knew it. She wanted to know more.

     ‘Will you show me?’ she finally asked, once her father was finished. ‘Will you teach me how to use magic?’

     Her father hesitated. He glanced briefly at me, his eyes still full of unshed tears. ‘Of course, my darling,’ he whispered.

     She finally went back to sleep not long after that. Her father lingered over her bed for a very, very long time, watching us both. The storm had dwindled down to a light rain. It was almost dawn.

     Her father took a deep breath, and left. He closed the door very gently behind him. Annabel stayed asleep.

     I had been right; he never came back.

     *

     Another year passed before it seemed like Annabel was finally going to accept that her father wasn’t coming home. She had tried to ask our neighbours, but they just gave her these sad, concerned looks, and pretended not to know anything. It infuriated me as much as it infuriated Annabel, so eventually, she gave up.

     We got by together. I watched over her every waking second, and she continued to attract the trust of others, particularly other Neopets. We soon had a small family of Xweetoks staying in our garden, and Annabel made it her duty to come and feed them every single day. Meanwhile, I knew the neighbours were still discreetly watching over her. There was no time that Annabel was ever alone.

     But I knew she was sad. She felt alone. There were days where we would stay inside all day, and she would watch out the window. It was like she was waiting for him to come home.

     He didn’t.

     One day, Annabel finally snapped. She screamed and screamed until concerned neighbours came to the house, but then she locked them all out, shouting for them to go away, to leave her alone. She took plates from the cupboard and threw them to the ground, shattering them. She ripped the cushions from the sofas and she peeled some of the wallpaper from the wall.

     ‘You left me!’ she screamed to no one. ‘You left me! You left me!’

     All the while, I watched her, wishing there was something I could do.

     She finally came to me, crying, and took me up to the bedroom. She placed me delicately on her bed, collapsed into it, and cried. She cried, and cried, and cried.

     Helplessly, I watched. I had never felt an emotion so strongly; not even on the first day of my life. All I wanted to do was care for her. I wanted to comfort her. I wanted, desperately, to protect her, like I was destined to do.

     Eventually, Annabel stopped crying, and rolled over to face me. She pulled me into an embrace. The sky was getting darker outside, and she was cold, but she did not move. She held me like that for a while.

     All I wanted to do was protect her.

     I wanted it so badly.

     So badly…

     Annabel startled. She jerked backwards, dropping me from her grasp. I watched as she backed up against her headboard, her eyes wide and stunned.

     I was perched in the middle of her bed. But…

     I had moved.

     ‘Knit… Knitsie?’ Annabel breathed in awe.

     I blinked. The movement startled her again, and she gasped. I couldn’t tell what was written on her face: fascination, or fear, or both. But more importantly, I was moving. I could feel it. Something fundamental had changed within me.

     Annabel started to frown, staring hard at me. She crawled closer. I stayed still, as I was used to. Her eyes did not leave mine.

     ‘You’re…’ she started, then stopped again. She reached out a hand. Carefully, I moved towards it. She watched in amazement as I leant into it, and I felt the amazement myself.

     But it also felt natural, the movement. Like I had been waiting for this moment for my entire life.

     Suddenly her face melted into a different kind of surprise. ‘I’m…’ she whispered. ‘I’m the…’ She kept stopping herself, stuttering, staring at me all the while.

     I knew it before she said it, but she said it anyway.

     ‘I’m the daughter of a mage.’

     I stared at her. She stared back. She knew what she had done, and I knew it too.

     She had used magic to bring me to life.

     A tiny smile began to overtake her face. It grew until it threatened to burst her cheeks. She sat straighter, holding her arms out to me. I waited for a moment, before slowly, I walked over to her. She held me as I crawled into her lap. I knew that it was love, too, that had done this.

     ‘Knitsie,’ she whispered. ‘You’re alive.’

     I am, I thought, and it’s going to be my duty to protect you, for as long as I live.

      The End?