|
|
The rain feels like a sea pouring down on you, it's so furious. As you totter along the worn old path, you spot a small cottage a bit to your right. You stumble over and lurch inside, ever so thankful for the unlocked door and the warmth inside the house. You shed your soaked coat and spend a few minutes crouched in front of the fire, warming up.
You then realize how odd it is for someone to make a fire in their home and then leave the door unlocked. You get up as quickly as your waterlogged clothing will allow and look around warily. The room your in has a few plush, red velvet armchairs, but it's the walls that catch your attention. All of them are covered from floor to roof with bookshelves. Oddly, most of them are empty. One shelf is full of books bound in red leather and gold clasps. You hesitate, unsure which one to choose...
It is hard to discover what is nestled away in someone's heart, what dark thoughts cross their mind. Even harder to get them to admit the truth to you.
Many days after the coronation he spent pondering things, pacing the rows of my gardens as I pruned and watered and planted. It was late in spring for planting, but the late flowers bloomed brightest.
I watched him in the heat of summer, sitting on the throne, poring over histories and tales of old, of lovers and wars and protectors of mortals. I thought nothing of it – if he wanted to read tales, it was his business. He didn't interfere with my gardening; why should I with his reading?
I now know that I should have paid closer attention. He spent long hours writing in a blue journal, carefully copying illustrations, not even aware of his surroundings.
I did not know the dark secret in his heart. But that is the nature of hidden things.
We've all done good, bad, in-between. Roe and I especially.
Once we were sent with this idiot, Lightning Stripes, for a simple clear-out of this lady's house. Everything was going smoothly until the lady came home ten minutes too early. Lightning Stripes thought the best way to handle the situation was to put a knife to her throat while we ran. When he came hurrying after us the blade was covered in red.
Another time Roe and I were sent to steal from a family. We did our job quickly and quietly.
But for days after the mission we watch the house, the worn-looking father, the thin, frail mother and the sad-eyed little boy. One day they found a bundle of food outside their house, another a pile of coins. We were careful to give only what been stolen long ago, so as not to get them in trouble.
One day the boy found a shiny wooden horse in his bedroom, with a note that said 'Sorry,' in my messy scrawl. We heard his cry of delight, the parents' frightened yells of confusion. The horse had been paid for, with stolen money, but paid for all the same, and it was his. After that we left them alone.
Who is to say that we are merely thieves? In a thief's heart he has both a hero and a villain.
For the first week in this world, she uttered not a sound.
Perhaps she simply does not want to, the doctors mused. Perhaps she can tell her mother does not love her.
For Queen Hyiima had left as soon as the nurse had okayed it. She had been gone a day. She returned the day after, her eyes sweeping the room and over the little baby sleeping in her crib.
Behind her peeked the palace gardener, Vi, with her sun-darkened skin and her flowered hat in her hand.
Vi set her hat down carefully, walked over to the crib. The baby was gorgeous, pale skin and delicate blue curls, full pink lips. The gardener carefully picked the baby up. Dezzipoia Li blinked open her shocking-blue eyes, opened her mouth, and let out a contented little gurgle.
And that was when the baby's mother was decided.
I never could've imagined it.
Find the girl and destroy her.
My path was clear, the intentions behind those words revealed to me as well.
I couldn't do it.
From the moment that energy entered my body, my life became hopelessly muddled.
I think some people believe that forbidden love comes out of the forbidden facet. That I only loved her because I couldn't.
Such things are a lie.
I loved her because it was impossible not to. And yet the inexplicable circumstances tore at me from the inside. To whom would I be loyal to?
I only know the answer will be unexpected.
I tried to convince myself that watching her wasn't that bad. It wasn't stalking, merely exploration. Seeing what her life was like, the entrancing half-mortal.
I think sometimes she knew I was there. She'd whip around suddenly, her eyes wide and wild. I always felt guilty then, left soon after. She didn't want me there.
The entire mortal world didn't want me, never had. How I wish I could once again be home, where the mortal world couldn't hurt me anymore.
Why had Tria and I been such idiots, trapping all the goddesses? A spirit's life was too long a term to serve out while tied to a Silonian fortress and the mortal world. It was too much.
But those visits, watching Avalait, so sad inside, so locked up and hurt. It made me love the world that despised me ever more.
Seven special knives lie in a secret chest hidden under a floorboard in my room. Every now and then I take them out, just to marvel at their beauty. Each one, studded with a different jewel. Each one carved with a different image. Each one bearing its own disturbing memories.
The first has a blade of reddish-grey, glittering rubies nestled flashily on the hilt, accenting the heart-shaped glass cut into it. It first bit into a man who had scorned and used me viciously. He deserved it.
The second is of diamonds, the steel silver-blue and precisely carved with a full goblet. It was used only as a threat, to a rich woman, living in the lap of luxury. She needed persuasion to donate to our cause.
The third, I'm honestly not as fond of. The dark metal and the carving of the hand with the onyx at its center scare me a little. I used it once, when I had no other option; though it did its job upon the rich non-guild wannabe-thief who snuck into my home, it bit into me as well. Whenever I look at it, my scar itches.
The blade that lies in the middle of the chest is a strange and gorgeous shade of purple, the amethyst in the panther-yawning design entrancing. I've never used this one, though Tria tells me she used it on the previous queen in a challenge for the guild throne.
Next comes the knife that has slashed the most, a slightly orangy number with citrines displaying a gavel. I myself have used it twice, both situations I'd rather not recall. Tria used to use it frequently, until Kanrik gifted to her the blade she currently uses.
Next-to-last is the greenish knife, carved with the face of a beautiful woman, studded in emerald. I know for a fact it has only bit into beautiful women, mostly wielded by Tria's hand and meeting the skin of Kanrik's admirers. Only one of Rob's admirers has ever seen the emerald blade, and I made sure she would never forget it.
Finally there is the yellow-metal blade, carved with a tall tower, twinkling with topaz lights in the windows. This blade is used only for those battles on honor that are unavoidable in the guild. It has always won.
These seven blades are the most precious thing I own, even more so than my lovely onyx-lightning dagger, Siki. They must always be kept safe and close, though not too close; knives kept too close can turn around and bite.
Dear Father,
It's been such a long time since we last talked. I've missed you desperately, but oftentimes I refuse to admit it, especially to myself. I try to forget you and mother, but how can I forget my whole life up until a year ago?
I would tell you that I am okay, but you would see through it, even just written down, without my face to tell you the truths. Business is good, the factory is thriving. But I hate it. The manufacturing, running a company, instead of making my darlings by hand like I should. But it is the new thing, Mi tells me, and I must keep up.
She says the same about my sense of style, always commenting, saying I wear things that are too old-fashioned. If I'm being honest, I have to admit I really don't care. I wear what I like and what will work in the factory. It's always how I've chosen my clothes and I'm not about to change that habit now. Jhi thinks I dress perfectly fine.
Jhi encourages me to work on trickier bits of gadgetry in my spare time, supplying me with materials, odds and ends, decorative bits of this and that, and best of all, scribbled and ciphered blueprints. Solving them is delightful. Mi's brought me so many books full of basic mechanical ideas and bases, sometimes with blueprints in them.
That's the best part of my life. Most of it now is spent in fear. Fear of the two Dragon Sisters I thought I once loved. I don't quite understand why they frighten me, as I've done nothing wrong – yet. But I fear for the future, and I fear becoming a façade, like so many of the servants they have.
Much love,
Avala Tili
One day, when we were very, very young, mother took us to the seashore for a special treat. I forget now what we'd done to deserve it – probably nothing actually deserving of such a reward – but I do remember the excitement of walking down the sandy shore to watch the waves.
For a couple hours Ken and I ran around screaming, splashing each other with the just-warm water, building giant sand castles and storming through them growling. It was such fun.
Then Kennie got tired out and flopped down, maybe asleep in seconds. I sat beside her, all curled up, and stared at the sea.
Far off in the distance, I could see a beautiful, shallow rocky area, and beside it a little cove. The water kept splashing and splashing against the smooth, dark rocks, making white foam. It was absolutely mesmerizing.
I wasn't sure if I understood then that I wanted to work with water all my too-short life. But I knew that I loved the water, and I thought maybe – just maybe – that ocean loved me, too.
It was so beautiful that day. Jay decided to take advantage of it, invited Jeth to come and tour the city with us.
Us? I thought sarcastically as I changed into a lighter gown of blue silk. Since when did I have a say in this?
It wasn't so bad, I suppose. We sat facing each other in the carriage. Neither of us spoke. I was still more than a little frustrated with the whole trip.
Once we cleared the gates of our personal quarters, we found Jeth waiting for us. He climbed in and sat beside Jay. My already irritated mood turned south.
Jeth started chatting idly with Jay, while I sat staring into the distance, thinking that I probably looked like a grumpy little girl and how much I hated that, which made my face surely more grumpy.
As we reached the artisans' part of the city, Jay started babbling something about silks and slipped out of the carriage. Jeth watched her go for a moment, and then he finally looked at me.
What's wrong, Kennie?" He asked softly.
Nothing," I hissed fiercely. He flinched, and I felt a sudden pang of guilt. It was only partly his fault that I was so mad. And it wasn't really his fault. Jay was so pretty, so charming, the favorite sister, favorite princess, favorite magic student, and now, apparently, Jeth's favorite, too.
I realized then that I'd thought Jeth had been the one person in my life besides Zi who favored me over Jay. I looked down abruptly, and my folded hands swam in front of me.
Ken?" Jeth sounded a little alarmed. I was appalled to realize I was crying in front of him. There would be no return from this moment. I was sure nothing would ever be quite the same between us again. My life would never again reach the high points it had hit those past few days.
This realization made me cry harder.
I almost jumped out of my skin when he touched me, and it took serious concentration to keep from doing something really stupid like yelling at him. I was already shaking violent, the sobs tearing their way through me.
Kennie, love, tell me what's wrong," he whispered.
I'll…never…be…happy…again," I choked out between sobs. He wrapped his other arm around me.
And why is that?
Everyone likes Jay better," I mumbled. I felt so childish, crying and being comforted like this. At the same time, I felt almost peaceful, until I again remembered my condition and who was behind both the peace and the sobs.
That's not true," He laughed. My head shot up and he jumped a little.
Don't laugh at me!" I snapped, the tears gone for a moment, replaced by anger.
Sorry, sorry," He murmured. "Kennie, all kinds of people love you. Remember when we went to Market Day, and all the people crowded around you?
Mhmmm.
They all love you, much more than your sister. People fear her. People love you. They're two different things, Kennie.
Some people do love Jay more than me," I whispered defiantly.
Some people are silly. You're my favorite princess sister, Kennie.
Really?
Of course.
So many times I have wished for a different past. Sometimes, simply for someone to have loved me. Other times for someone to have cared.
It's been a long time since I ran around the streets, nicking shiny pennies, throwing half of them in the dirty fountains, believing that if I only wished enough times, if I only truly wanted my wishes to come true, they would.
I still wish that those penny-fountain wishes had come true. Perhaps not all of them. But the ones made when I was calm and cool-headed.
Sometimes, I wished for mother to have had enough money; or better, lots of money. Never again too little, never again bargaining for every mouthful of bread.
Sometimes I wished for father to have a solid job, a fancy one. He would have dressed nice every day, carried a shiny briefcase around. He would've been like the men at the Town Hall that he always walked by, both admiring and envious.
Other times, I just wished that they'd loved me. If they hadn't loved me without enough money or a job, how could they love me then?
Only now can I look back at those days of my childhood, and the ones that followed. Always, always trying to regain the honor that had been lost; and then I became a thief, the one place where honor didn't matter.
I let the regrets wash away, like the dirt on the pennies under the fountain stream. One day I will be shining and beautiful again.
All that glitters isn't gold.
Sometimes the most beautiful things can turn out to be false. A charming princess can be a vicious snake. An airheaded little sister can be a delicate beauty. A mysterious prince can be a poor, dying leper.
I'll never know the difference between destiny and fate.
Some say you can choose to follow your destiny, but your fate will catch up to you. I don't understand how it's not the same thing and that you don't ever really have a choice.
Maybe I should stick to painting.
But, if fate exists… is mine to die here, on this tiny, infantile, alien planet? Old and ageless, far from my home?
I hope I can change my destiny. Or fate. Or that there's something better coming up, and that I will be a rainbow in my home skies again.
Never had it been about love; love was for fools. I sought power, and to me, it was even more intoxicating than love.
It was never about beating Ken. She was the younger sister, my shadow. She had everything to prove. I was always first, and I could forge my own path.
It was never about deceiving him. That was just a small pleasure, delightful simply because it displayed the extent of my skill.
It was never about showing the fire-mutt what true power was, how her fireworks were no match for an ocean.
It was all about the glory.
I never thought it through. Why would some strange prince come to court me? I was the little sister, the hyper girl. Jay was always the beautiful one; I was her happy-go-lucky little sister. Since when did anyone care about me?
Since he came.
When I met him, it was like a windstorm erupted in my heart. I knew I wasn't to even think about something like this. I didn't understand how I could feel this way. My heart rebelled against my better intentions.
That first day sneaking onto the roof to talk was like a fresh breeze in my life.
Always it had been Jay who was the bad one, Jay who rebelled and was punished. I was the good girl, always on time, always looking crisp, always perfect. It was so wonderful to be able to throw off the expectation of perfection.
I wasn't ready for what happened after. But looking back, I wouldn't change those blissful days for the world.
You're young. You're smart. You're joyful. All you want to do is spend your time free and wild in the forests. The only things you'll ever need are the ones in your backpack.
But you're forced away from your beloved forests, the vibrant gardens and the rustling creatures. You're stripped away from your wildness, and it's stripped away from you. You struggle. You fight. You can't get away. Every day a new challenge, designed to needle its way a little further into your soft, untested heart.
One day you decide to go, leave, get away. A stranger who feels like a father comes and sweeps you away to a world of better adventures and harsher challenges. With your guardian by your side, nothing can hurt you, right? Isn't life all a wonderful game?
Suddenly the balloon you're living in pops. Real life gobbles you.
Faith is not something you can just proclaim.
Faith is sticking to someone as though your life depends on it. Because it does.
Faith is learning to live with that person. Not just because your life depends on it. Because they intrigue you.
Faith is almost dying inside after you abandon someone, and rushing to return to their side again.
I have faith.
Crowd
Melody
Creature
In the hours of darkness
Clarity
Order amidst chaos
Fly / Let go
Sacrifice
Rainbow
Bliss
Struggle
Unlimited
Countdown / tick tock
Fog
Unseeing
Ribbon
Dancing to my own tune
Home
Window to another realm / window to another time
This is for you
- Things were not as they used to be.
It's been a long time since such a powerful dream came to me.
I remember the first time it plagued me. It had been Imma's birthday; the day was spent away from the usual courtiers and public events. We'd spent most of the afternoon at the gorgeous lake near Vi's cottage.
I fell asleep hoping nothing would interrupt me from a good night's sleep to prepare for the day ahead, returning to the exhausting life of a king.
Fate is cruel.
At first, I was walking the streets of Aque. The city was empty, but I felt no fear.
And then, in the distance, I caught a glimpse of the castle going up in flames.
Soon the shops began to catch fire. I was running as fast as I could, trying to get to the bridge between us and Dio, but the fire kept jumping in my path, pushing towards…
The lake.
I ran to it, as I knew I must, and jumped in.
Searing pain ripped through me, like tiny razors slicing my skin. I struggled to get my head above water, but the currents (what the heck kind of lake had currents?) sucked me down and down.
And then her glorious, smiling face appeared.
And everything went black.
I used to not be able to stand waiting for a little adventure.
Life used to drag on, day after day studying the delicate intricacies of fire in the academy. Weekend after weekend disguising myself and sneaking off to the markets to sell my magical talents. Even the sneaking got so commonplace it was boring. There was no fear of getting caught.
And then one fateful weekend, a lovesick leper came into my world and shook it all up.
His request was bold, exciting new. And possible. Tangible. It had results I knew I would watch with interest. It could finally add some spice to my life.
Now I only wish that spice had not cost me so much. Had not made me what I am today, a bitter fire-witch still mourning her part in the death of her closest friend.
A lone man staggered along the worn, beaten path. His dark, wavy hair, cropped just below his chin, hung limp and dirty. His clothing, purple and gold, looked to have once been rich, clean, and beautiful. Now it was bedraggled, dusty, a shadow of its former glory.
His olive-skinned hand was clasped tight around a smooth, tall stick, his eyes wide and unseeing. The road ahead of him was not what mattered.
The only thing that mattered anymore was getting there. Competing the journey. Avenging her, and then returning to her at last.
He sighed as he struggled on.
I take a step back from the stall, gazing at the effect of all the ribbons. I think it may be a little too much, but since when was too much ribbon a bad thing?
I smile, step into my booth again. I start to set up the displays, handling each creation with care. There are simple household appliances (mixers, toasters, microwaves), and then the more intricate things. Hair brushes, foldable shoe racks, specialized hangers, all kinds of things.
But the true attraction are the critters. Little pets made out of machinery, running on solar and lunar power, adorable little things.
I put out the first critter with a smile, turn her on, and let the festivities begin.
I didn't used to believe in magic. Faerie tales? Just bedtime stories for kids. What did I care?
Now I know. Magic exists. Of course it does. It lives in inky hair and icy eyes. It lives in golden skin and quick, wide smiles.
He has it.
Is it magic, though, this strange thing? I can't tell. Whatever it is, it's beautiful, powerful and perfect.
And all, all for me.
Sparks, why are you here?" Lynn whispers. She knows without being told that Drea must not hear a word of this.
I need to go off this world. I'm trying to find her. The Star. I know she's out there, somewhere. If I can just bring her here, maybe she can help us. Maybe she could save Rocco. Make it better.
I don't think anything could make Rocco better now," Lynn murmurs, her eyes flashing with the memory of pain.
But she can," I'm a little louder now, "If I can just find her, bring her back here… they say that all she needs is a vessel to work her power through. She could cleanse Rocco. Through me.
Lynn's horrified face, her eyes behind me, are what alert me to him standing there. Too close. Me, too loud.
Sparks." He rasps. I bow my head, resigned to the fact that my secret's out. I follow him into a little corridor, empty for the moment except for us.
What are you talking about?" He hisses. "Leaving the planet? Becoming a vessel? You could die. What are you trying to accomplish?
You know what," I hiss, "You know why. My mind is made up. I'm leaving with the next group.
I'm not." He spits.
I can't breathe.
I knew he would be angry, upset, of course. Months of traveling with this boy have taught me lessons about his temper. But I never believed he'd leave me. It was impossible. It couldn't happen. Because really, who was I before he'd found me?
As I turn and stalk down the corridor, tears starting to run down my face, the bigger question comes to mind.
Who would I be now?
For them, there would only ever be those hidden moments in the dark.
Conspiratorial looks, knowing smiles, a wickedness in their eyes that I could never understand.
Pranks? Of course I loved them. Tria and I had pulled off the biggest prank ever – and best of all was the fact that they still didn't know what hit them. But the meddling with mortals… that, I would never understand.
How could they not envy them, those with true hearts, beating and keeping them alive. Not a ball of energy at the center of their being. True flesh, lives that could end at any moment. A beauty of being able to quit, to stop living. A luxury none of us have, a luxury only I craved.
Maybe this was why Lure so pointedly preferred Tria's company. Maybe this was why Tria was so often chosen for little missions instead of I.
I know that's not the whole of it. Lure has always underestimated me, my power. Believing Tria stronger, better than me, believing in death before life. But which comes first? I think I know, and I think Tria does, too.
Some things between us are like this, hidden from Lure but so clear to our younger eyes. We don't try to explain them. No one gives much attention to the two youngest goddesses, the little troublemakers. Too bad they weren't paying attention when we mortalized them.
Too bad I wasn't paying attention when Lure and Tria were plotting to send me away.
I thought my life had been blessed. Thought it had been a sheer miracle, that I had found love in a dark hour. Now I know better.
Miracles don't exist anymore.
The Queen's passing was more of a tragedy to me than anyone else I had ever known. I knew we hadn't been truly close – I couldn't have begun to understand what Queenship was like back then. But I think I was the closest thing she ever had to just… a friend.
After she passed, and I met Drea, my life changed. Everything I ever wanted, anything I could dream of, everything I needed after the Queen was gone.
I had riches, power, fame. None of those interested me.
What I loved were the little things. The little pocket gardens on every windowsill. The tea blends I would mix for myself in the kitchens – not out of paranoia, simply for the fun of it. Experimenting with new leaves, checking with the herbalists and chefs to make sure the plants I were using were edible. Strolling along balconies in the fresh night air. Sharing chocolate with Vilata, who had been allowed to accompany me once I moved into the palace. Playing with little Tae, who adored the gardens just as much as I did, always flitting about among bushes and flowerbeds.
What I adored were the beautiful, fancy things I had so often seen while in the palace, but had never touched, never looked at too long, out of respect. Crystal goblets and chandeliers, dresses that looked like they were spun from tinted glass and gemstones, dresses with pure golden, silver, bronze threads, bronze bangles and bands, a delicately delectable variety of chocolates, pillows that felt like they were made of air. The comfort, the grandeur, entranced me.
And of course, there was the man that started it all. Every time I looked at him I felt like I was seeing him for the first time, felt that indescribable something that shot through my veins, filled my stomach with butterflies, made my heart overwork itself. Every day filled with appearances, speeches, dances, events, but always, always he was there, and I was always so happy. And for a few months, I lived like that, deeply in love with everything around me.
And then it came. His miracle. I hadn't noticed that I was spending more time in the garden, hadn't realized how we'd not been together as much. I didn't know until he'd already run away. Then the little demon-witch came and told me everything. Now, I'm disgusted, mostly at myself for falling for someone who would abandon me for someone, anyone, else. Then, all I could feel was the loss, a thousand million times more powerful than when the queen died. I quite literally curled up and lay dead to the world for I think a week. And then Vi came. Made me get up. Eat some food. Get dressed. Go down to the garden, where Tae waited anxiously. And when I saw him, I realized that my life didn't have to end, too. I could get through it. I was strong enough.
Some may call that a miracle in itself. But I can't let myself believe in miracles anymore.
Life doesn't work that way.
I remember the first one very clearly.
I had been wearing the same clothes Rob had found me in. Tattered shirt, used to be white, now a weird shade of brownish-grey. Dark green jacket, almost vestlike, a little less tattered. Brown pants a size too big. Scruffy sneakers I wore constantly.
I remember the Queen instructing me to close my eyes, and I obeyed. I trusted her. Or at least I knew that if she wanted me gone, I would know quickly. She slipped the soft, fitting fabric over my head.
I kept my eyes closed as she fitted on the shoes, upswept my hair with a few pins a lot of sticky spray, and turned me around. I opened my eyes as she instructed and found myself looking at a mirror.
My skin was clean (clean!), a pretty shade of pale cinnamon. My hair was shiny and pretty, a deep shade of red. The sea green fabric, with its glittering, emerald-and-onyx studded hemlines, was gorgeous, set off my hair and my skin and my eyes. I was beautiful.
But who was I? Surely not the scared, skinny girl who'd walked into the thieves' guild a few hours prior. I was someone new. Anyone I wanted to make myself. I didn't have to live with my past anymore. I felt a smile cross my face, making me even more beautiful. The Queen smiled too, led me out of the room into the lobby.
Rob waited, dressed in a suit. Simple, classic black jacket and pants, but a light green shirt and dark green tie. We matched.
You look gorgeous," he whispered, falling into step beside me. I blushed, for maybe the first time ever.
A new person. Blushing. Beautiful. I let a tiny smile cross my face.
Now I realize what a mistake that was.
Every day, a new costume, a new mask to create and perfect by nightfall.
The ever-shifting façades are what gave me my ever-present personality disorder.
It happened one day when I was wearing something unusual. Purple and black dress, onyx-studded slippers, purple and black striped bracelets with poisoned tips. Red sash across my waist, equipped with a red-handled dagger. I realized that this outfit represented everything I was. Formidable. Beautiful. Deadly. Perfect, on the outside.
And I realized how completely destroyed I was inside. I realized what had happened. How I had lost myself.
And once you lose yourself, you're gone.
Words that have never been spoken to me. Words I have never said. Words that control my life.
I remember the day that they threw me out. I hadn't realized that picking a shiny penny off an unwatched counter was stealing. I didn't know what would happen because of it.
It was cold and rainy. The normal clouds of choking dust were gone, replaced by giant mud puddles. I liked the puddles better because I didn't have to breathe them.
I didn't have a proper coat – just two shirts, one stitched on top of the other, thin and threadbare from wear. My pants were soft cotton and soaked up the mud like a hungry sponge. I was miserable. Before that day, I'd actually liked the rain.
Mother was trying to buy food with our too-little money. Always too-little. I didn't remember having enough money, but mother and father did. Whenever they talked about they cast glances at me, looks that I didn't understand then. But they brought on the quiet, wrenching sobs brought out over a thin pillow in the dead of night. My father would be furious if he ever caught me crying.
Father was trying to find more work. He already had work, hauling around delivery crates from the giant truck to the businesses that needed them. It was good work. But our family needed more. Most places didn't want a man with a family, a man who was always tired and angry. A desperate man. I didn't see it then, but now it makes sense.
I was wandering around the market, my sodden appearance and puppy eyes earning me a roll here, an apple there. I just thought people were generous. I didn't understand the real reasons.
The penny was just there, lying on the counter. Bronze and shiny and perfect. I picked it up and slipped it in my pocket before the man running the baking stall could notice.
When I went back to my mother, I must have looked pleased with myself, because she asked what I'd found. I presented the penny proudly.
How'd you get that?" she sounded angry. I now know that it was fear that made her raise her voice.
I picked it up off the counter," I said, pointing. Utterly bewildered. Even more so by what followed. The pain. The sadness. And the feeling of being completely alone.
I would stay that way, until the bruises outside healed.
Then I found Roe. And slowly, gently, the ones inside went away, too.
I can't believe he's doing this.
I guess I always took it for granted that he would always stay with me. I guess I finally scared him off. I guess I'm completely, totally alone.
I didn't know a person could hurt this much.
I still know what I have to do. I still know what I need to go through to find her. I just thought he would be with me when it happened.
I walk through the doors to the last room I may ever breathe in on this planet. And it's all I can do not to cry.
A young girl with dark-blue skin and platinum blonde curls flops down on a pale blue bed.
Jayyy what'd you do today?" She asks, twirling a tassel on the edge of the blanket.
None of your business," the other girl in the room says. She tries to push the blonde off the bed, but it's halfhearted and joking. The little blonde rolls onto her stomach.
Tell me!" she orders, her brows coming together over pleading periwinkle eyes.
I got my assessment results. I'm in," Jay girl smirks, one corner of her painted red mouth pulling up. She tosses her long, dark teal hair over her shoulder and continues, "I spent the rest of the day studying for my Water Basics.
I'm so jealous!" The blonde squeals, sitting up in one smooth movement, "I still have to take the stupid test!
I'm a year ahead of you, Kennie." Jay reminded her sister patiently. "Of course I'm going to be ahead of you. It's crazy you're even that close behind me, actually."
Whatever." The younger one grumbled, hopping off the bed and gliding over to the door. "I'll see you later, I have something I want to work on.
Bye lil' sis!" Jay called behind her. A hint of the smirk still played in her voice.
Kennie dashed down the stairs to her rooms, flinging open the door and getting back to work on her project.
A long fold-up piece of white cardboard was spread across the floor. Covering the left half of it were pictures. A younger version of Kennie, with darker curls and lighter skin, sitting in bed hugging a toy bear. Jay, glowering at the camera with a small stack of books in her arms. A tiny, dark-furred kougra with brilliantly bright stripes and glowing amber eyes. A little purple cottage on the edge of the woods. A lake with eerily illuminated water and frightening, fascinating flowers. Kennie, older now, in a white dress, black jacket, shiny black shoes, a blue bag slung around her, waving at the camera.
Other pictures are scattered haphazardly across the cardboard, as well as scissors, glue, a pen, and some markers. Some pictures are captioned. The first three only have a heart beneath them. Ken picks up a picture of black kougra with skeletal wings and purple eyes, and begins to cut it out.
There are four of them. Four long, full seasons in this whirlwind of despair they call a year.
It begins with the icy, icy cold.
The man who owns the house is not my father. I have never looked at him as such. He tried to approach me as his daughter once. He saw how that went.
This place is not my home, not where I belong. Not the safe place on the island, my little cave bursting with flowers that have probably died without my protection from the cold.
Each year I protest against my mother, try to stay at the island with her, the boat, and the safety. But I am always sent back to this icy castle that I despise.
But all cold melts away. And then the true fun begins.
Spring in all its glory livens up the castle and the rains wash away the dank coldness of the stones. Flowers bloom in the gardens, become gorgeous under my careful, unauthorized care. And I bloom as well. Start thinking about things besides growing plants and fishing, laying in the sand and swimming in the ocean. Start to wonder what I will make of my life. And I am terrified when I cannot come up with an answer.
It warms up even more, and soon I am allowed back on the boat to my homeland. I return to my beloved island, and for a while, everything is perfect again. The flowers have grown into each other, become wild in my absence. More than usual. But I tame them back again, line the boundaries with seashells, tell their roots to say within the boundaries. They comply, grow even taller and more beautiful. I am alive in the sand and the sea and the forest. My mother is always near, always on the sea, where I an exempt from helping for once because she has finally earned enough to hire another member for the crew.
And then it cools down, enough to where I have to fight to keep my plants going. Why is it so much harder this year? What's wrong with the earth?
I know it is not the earth. I know it is my fault this is happening. But I do not understand why.
As it gets colder, mother insists on me accompanying her on the boat. For once it is not home. It is disgusting. I find that I cannot stand the scent of old fish, throw up my meals of tropical fruit and fresh fish – not even rotted, as it sometimes is. I grow thin, unhappy, and broken.
As winter comes again to close out the misery of this year of life, I make my first ever decision for myself. The one to run away.
It's a fine, warm summer's night, and you're walking home from the marketplace, bags full of groceries and goodies keep your arms occupied. You decide that taking a shortcut through a dark little alley is a good idea – after all, you can see the streetlight on the other side. It doesn't seem like such a good idea when the tall, lean girl steps out from the shadows. Her skin is light cinnamon, her hair dark apple-red in the dim streetlight.
As you take in her dark dress and belt (which has something that looks suspiciously like a knife on the side), you feel the first trickles of fear run down your spine. Once you meet her eyes, the trickle transforms into a wave. Your brain says run, but you can't.
Hello," she purrs sweetly "what've you got there, ma'am?"
You can't speak, can't breath, don't dare to move. Like a frightened rabbit faced with a hungry feline, you freeze completely.
The girl smiles, although her eyes stay cold and angry. Eyes you still can't look away from. She shifts her weight, almost stalking towards you, and still you can't run.
I won't hurt you. Just set down the bags and walk away. It'll be like a bad dream," she whispers gently. Your muscles' aren't unlocking. Her smile is gone abruptly.
Roe!" Someone shouts from that safe, lighted place beyond the alley. The girl jumps and for a moment, her eyes flicker away from you. Before she can catch your gaze again you're running as fast as you can into the marketplace, back to safety and sense.
As you begin to trudge home the long way, you close your eyes, trying to wash out the image of the thief's pitch-black ones. Trying to shake away the sensation of alluring fear.
How can I become mortal again?" he asked her, innocent. Naïve. Stupid.
Easy," she purred, "I have the ability to turn you mortal again. At a price."
I'm your prince." he reminded her.
True," she considered the thought a moment, eyes gleaming dangerously, "well, then I have a proposition. You only have to make me one promise."
I will be mortal again? And then pass on into this world?" He was trying to contain his eagerness, but it leaked through his bright yellow eyes.
Mhmm. All you have to do is promise to protect her."
Excuse me?" His voice was rough with shock.
As long as you're trying protect her you'll be able to remain mortal. That is, until the time is right for her to die."
…What?"
You protect her with your life!" The witch grabbed his arm, her eyes alight with fervor. "You keep her safe, or you lose your right to be mortal! Do you understand me, Prince?" She spat at his feet and flung him away from her. He staggered.
My life?"
For hers. A trade for mortality once more. Promise it." she hissed.
And so he made the worst decision in any of his lives.
I promise."
I wish I could attest to a wall that seperates us.
But there is none. Here in the city, my city, the rich ones wander. Fat, happy, without a care in the world. Not a real care, a fear of going to sleep hungry, cold, or bruised like last night. Not a care about finding the next place to sleep. The rich ones worry about which house they will sleep in.
I wonder what that must be like.
You can tell us apart easily. We don't mingle. The upper class stay with their kind, their social groups and cliques that are so trivial, and yet so deadly. The only time they speak to us is when hiring. Even then, it's the ones above us, the ones with nicer clothing, who deal with the rich ones.
We often go alone, ragtag, beat-down, and nearly invisible. But not to each other. A thief can pick out a street rat with some cash among a million without. A good one, anyways.
In a way, the wall is there, dividing us. It's only invisible.
The night was quiet and unusually still. The only movement was that of a young woman sitting on a balcony.
Her dark skin blended with the shadows; it was her pale hair, dyed silver in the moonlight, that was visible. She held something small and dark up to her mouth and bit into it.
Chocolate. One of life's small comforts, like the beautiful flowers she so loved, or the lush silk dresses she wore. She remembered a few years back, walking to the Queen's palace and passing out chocolate to people along the way. A simple gesture, a kind one. One of the few things she was proud of.
The chocolate melted on her tongue, and with it went the peaceful mood that she had finally found.
It feels like I've been here forever, in this alien world. A place that can be so beautiful and yet so lacking. Or maybe I'm just lacking.
Not maybe. I am, and I know it. I'm still disgusted with myself for losing my colour, all that matters in my life. How can anyone take me seriously now?
I try to make up for it, but I know it can never be enough. Not the bright clothes, the many rainbow accessories. Not the shop, with it's blinding multicoloured surfaces.
I also know that I will not be like this forever. I will have my colour back someday soon. Then I will be able to set this world right again. Or she will defeat me, and I will just become a rainbow in my home once more.
What does your character look like? How does your character feel about their appearance and how does it effect their life? Do they ever change their appearance (make up, tattoos, etc)? What sort of first impression does their appearance leave on others?
What does your character look like? How does your character feel about their appearance and how does it effect their life? Do they ever change their appearance (make up, tattoos, etc)? What sort of first impression does their appearance leave on others?
What does your character look like? How does your character feel about their appearance and how does it effect their life? Do they ever change their appearance (make up, tattoos, etc)? What sort of first impression does their appearance leave on others?
How is your character's relationship with their family? Are there any sore points in any of the dynamics (money, viewpoints, etc)?
How is your character's relationship with their family? Are there any sore points in any of the dynamics (money, viewpoints, etc)?
How is your character's relationship with their family? Are there any sore points in any of the dynamics (money, viewpoints, etc)?
How does your character feel about death? How does your character view their own death? Does this vary from their views on the death of others? Do their feelings towards death effect their life in any way?
How does your character feel about death? How does your character view their own death? Does this vary from their views on the death of others? Do their feelings towards death effect their life in any way?
How does your character feel about death? How does your character view their own death? Does this vary from their views on the death of others? Do their feelings towards death effect their life in any way?
What does your character do for entertainment? What do they do in their free time? What hobbies do they have? Is there any activity that they have a preference for? Any unusual entertainment choices? How'd they get involved with those hobbies?
What does your character do for entertainment? What do they do in their free time? What hobbies do they have? Is there any activity that they have a preference for? Any unusual entertainment choices? How'd they get involved with those hobbies?
What does your character do for entertainment? What do they do in their free time? What hobbies do they have? Is there any activity that they have a preference for? Any unusual entertainment choices? How'd they get involved with those hobbies?
How does your character act in group situations? What (if any) is the difference in behavior or feelings when in a small versus large group? How do they act around strangers compared to close friends and family? Does your character have a lot of friends, a few or none?
How does your character act in group situations? What (if any) is the difference in behavior or feelings when in a small versus large group? How do they act around strangers compared to close friends and family? Does your character have a lot of friends, a few or none?
How does your character act in group situations? What (if any) is the difference in behavior or feelings when in a small versus large group? How do they act around strangers compared to close friends and family? Does your character have a lot of friends, a few or none?
Where does your character live? What is your character's home like? Is it a massive mansion, one room cabin, just a nest or what? How is it furnished? Where is the home located? If it's in a city, what sort of neighborhood is it in?
Where does your character live? What is your character's home like? Is it a massive mansion, one room cabin, just a nest or what? How is it furnished? Where is the home located? If it's in a city, what sort of neighborhood is it in?
Where does your character live? What is your character's home like? Is it a massive mansion, one room cabin, just a nest or what? How is it furnished? Where is the home located? If it's in a city, what sort of neighborhood is it in?
What injuries has your character had in the past? Have there been any major injuries? Which have been worse, emotional or physical injuries? Are there any injuries which caused lasting damage and continue to effect your character?
What injuries has your character had in the past? Have there been any major injuries? Which have been worse, emotional or physical injuries? Are there any injuries which caused lasting damage and continue to effect your character?
What injuries has your character had in the past? Have there been any major injuries? Which have been worse, emotional or physical injuries? Are there any injuries which caused lasting damage and continue to effect your character?
How does your character feel about the night? What is their preferred activity at night? What time does your character generally go to sleep - and why at that time?
How does your character feel about the night? What is their preferred activity at night? What time does your character generally go to sleep - and why at that time?
How does your character feel about the night? What is their preferred activity at night? What time does your character generally go to sleep - and why at that time?
How does your character respond to new opportunities? Does your character attempt to create opportunities for him or herself, or do they wait for them to happen? When one does come up do they react quickly or think about it for a while? Has your character ever passed up a huge opportunity? If so, how do they feel about it now?
How does your character respond to new opportunities? Does your character attempt to create opportunities for him or herself, or do they wait for them to happen? When one does come up do they react quickly or think about it for a while? Has your character ever passed up a huge opportunity? If so, how do they feel about it now?
How does your character respond to new opportunities? Does your character attempt to create opportunities for him or herself, or do they wait for them to happen? When one does come up do they react quickly or think about it for a while? Has your character ever passed up a huge opportunity? If so, how do they feel about it now?
1. How old are you?
2. What makes you special?
3. What is the most normal thing about you?
4. What is the last thing you ate?
5. What is the last thing you did prior to this questionnaire?
6. With whom did you last share a hug?
7. What's the most exciting thing you did yesterday?
8. What will you do after you finish this questionnaire?
9. Who do you want to talk to right now?
10. What are you wearing?
11. What's your favorite color?
12. What do you wish you were doing right now?
13. Do you like pie?
1. How old are you?
2. What makes you special?
3. What is the most normal thing about you?
4. What is the last thing you ate?
5. What is the last thing you did prior to this questionnaire?
6. With whom did you last share a hug?
7. What's the most exciting thing you did yesterday?
8. What will you do after you finish this questionnaire?
9. Who do you want to talk to right now?
10. What are you wearing?
11. What's your favorite color?
12. What do you wish you were doing right now?
13. Do you like pie?
1. How old are you?
2. What makes you special?
3. What is the most normal thing about you?
4. What is the last thing you ate?
5. What is the last thing you did prior to this questionnaire?
6. With whom did you last share a hug?
7. What's the most exciting thing you did yesterday?
8. What will you do after you finish this questionnaire?
9. Who do you want to talk to right now?
10. What are you wearing?
11. What's your favorite color?
12. What do you wish you were doing right now?
13. Do you like pie?
What scares your character? Are there any fears which your character has overcome? What are they most afraid of?
What scares your character? Are there any fears which your character has overcome? What are they most afraid of?
What scares your character? Are there any fears which your character has overcome? What are they most afraid of?
What is it that your character desires? Is there anything that would tempt your character to break their moral code? Has your character ever succumbed to temptation against their better judgement? What were the results?
What is it that your character desires? Is there anything that would tempt your character to break their moral code? Has your character ever succumbed to temptation against their better judgement? What were the results?
What is it that your character desires? Is there anything that would tempt your character to break their moral code? Has your character ever succumbed to temptation against their better judgement? What were the results?
NEOPETS, characters, logos, names and all related indicia
are trademarks of Neopets, Inc., © 1999-2013.
® denotes Reg. US Pat. & TM Office.
All rights reserved.
PRIVACY POLICY | Safety Tips | Contact Us | About Us | Press Kit
Use of this site signifies your acceptance of the Terms and Conditions