by Abra Ebner
The small face smiled at me, followed by another giggle. I relaxed a bit, finding the incident less terrifying than I had initially imagined. I blinked and dropped my hand to my side. It was no more than a child, dressed in white with a face like porcelain. She blinked her eyes with a rueful wave of confidence and slowly stepped out from behind the tree as Margriete and Sam twisted beside me, now gawking at her the same way I had.
“Hello,” I cooed, my muscles relaxing as I let my body hunch down to her level.
The girl gave me another sweet smile. “Hello,” she replied, her eyes full of wonder and life.
Margriete grabbed my hand, cautioning me as I took one step toward her. The girl mimicked me, stepping closer as well.
“What are you doing out here?” I asked, watching her as she clasped her hands behind her back and twisted in place.
“Hunting for June Bugs,” she replied plainly, shrugging her tiny shoulders. Her white dress fluttered at her knees as a soft warm wind circled through the trees.
Her skin was much like Sam’s, but held a more youthful glow. There was something about her that seemed so innocent and strange, as though forever hidden away from the world’s troubles, unbeknownst of its evils.
Margriete made a strange noise of recognition and I looked back at her. Her eyes were wide and a smile crept across her face, “I know what she is…” Her voice tailed of as she began to nod, now holding our attention, even that of the young girl.
“This child died young in her time on earth.” Margriete watched as the young girl reacted to the comment, her face sinking. “Because of this, she is forever bound as a careless child in this world, since she never got the chance to live out her life on earth. She lives it now, almost like a ‘re-do” of sorts.”
I pressed my brows together in disbelief, “A re-do? You mean the Gods basically said ‘whoops,’ and they are now attempting to make up for it?”
Sam laughed at my crude references.
Margriete smiled along with him, “For lack of a better explanation, yes.”
The girl giggled at us as we took a moment to think over the fact. I watched her as she knelt down in the grass and began to hum, picking at the blades and making a tiny bouquet of apple blossom flowers.
“She’s so beautiful,” I uttered under my breath, her soft blonde hair blowing in wisps. There was something about her that reminded me of myself as a child, the child I had dreamed I could have been. When I was a young girl, I would sit and stare for hours, wondering why I could not find happiness.
I was suddenly jealous of the girl, enjoying the childhood I never had. I wanted to be able to live that life, know what it was like to feel that everything was safe and that each day was just another opportunity to play and explore. I sighed, wishing on the fact that maybe one day, I could be granted this opportunity.
Sam patted the young girl on the head and she looked up at him with loving eyes, like that of a doe. She ran her tiny hand through her hair, rearranging what Sam had tussled. She then handed the tiny bouquet to him, his hands crushing the stems as he tried to take them.
There was a sudden call that twisted its way across the orchard and the girl turned her head, her smile even bigger. “Coming Mama!” she yelled back.
My heart melted as she turned back to us and rose to her feet, the grass twisting between her toes. “It was lovely to meet you folks,” she gave a delicate and polite bow before turning with her bouquet and running in the opposite direction toward home.
I forced back tears as I watched her disappear between the trees in her own kingdom of Heaven. I was certain I would never be granted such asylum in the next life and I began to wonder if our kind even had a future here. If we had already made our place in this land, surely we would crumble away and become a part of the Earth itself, no more than dust.
THE INNER CIRCLE
As we finally emerged from the orchard, I saw a small cottage at the end of the acreage and I figured that was where the girl had lived. The orchard grass instantly gave way to another field, but this time the white towers I had spotted earlier were much closer, close enough to cause my nerves to crumble.
The land before me swayed its way down to a city that crowded toward the center. The white towers were smooth and sharp, piercing the sky in their grandeur. Through the field before us was a road and we made our way to it. The road was rough and cracked, showing signs of heavy wear and travel and I was suddenly reminded of The Wizard of Oz as I felt myself relating with Dorothy, feeling the same fear and hopes of going home.
There was movement around the castle, a bustle resembling that of a street fair. Flags blew in the wind, each one brandishing their own design and color. There were a few clouds of smoke that blew toward us from the wagons, each laced with a different smell, meats, flowers and bread. My mouth began to water at the smell, though my stomach felt little toward the thought of food.
Sam cursed as he stumbled through the rivets in the road where water had carved a deep crevice. Arborvitae began to spring up on either side of our path as though rows of soldiers, watching our arrival. My heart was pounding in my chest and my palms began to sweat as I allowed them to filter through the cool spring air.
Crickets were singing from amongst the field and I tried to pretend I was home on a summer day, in the meadow where I knew I was safe and where I knew I could still find Edgar, if not in body, than at least in soul. I closed my eyes as the first sounds of the market met my ears like a tickling song. It had been a long time since I was faced with a crowd and the subtle noise awakened memories I had suppressed for so long.
Seattle had its own beat, a drum that ached on day after day, thriving with life. I had hated the mediocrity of it, but the sound now felt like a triumph because I knew I was above that now and could handle the pain it welled deep inside.
I struggled to catch my breath as I opened my eyes, stifling my need to break down right here and turn back. I had to be strong not only for Margriete and Sam, but for Edgar and my future. A man approached us on the path, pulling a small goat on a tattered cotton rope. The goat sang with each step, defying the pull of its master and longing to chew on the fields beyond.
As we approached, the man gave me a terrified glance, followed by a shaken smile and a tip of his hat as though he knew me. I grasped at the dagger in my belt, remembering my destiny and wondering if he had known. The fact of the matter was that I was not here to challenge the gods, I was here to compromise, so they had little to fear of me; I would never rule them.
Sweet smells still flooded my nostrils, laced with cinnamon and oil that was now stronger than before. As we came upon the fair, I took into the parade of carts that lined the streets and fields beyond. The gathering was so large I wondered how one could find anything, let alone find their way back to the road.
I jumped as a clown dove in front of me, his mouth grotesquely stained and his eyes whirling like rolling marbles. Sam grabbed the clown and shoved him aside out of instinct, throwing him into a cart of small animals, each one a mix of many species I’d known from the world above.
I felt like everyone was staring at me, like everyone knew why I was here. Each face I met looked at me with either fear or hate and I couldn’t understand why. The circus of visitors was frightening and dark, obviously the product of a tormented human life of bad decisions.
We walked past continuing rows of street vendors, all peddling their goods in a desperate manner, much like bums. My attention was grabbed by one cart in particular where a cage held an animal that seemed to be made of solid steel. As we came closer I was able to read the sign, seeing that they were Gryphon’s, too young to possess the heat they eventually would.
It was then that I noticed a young girl, much like the girl we had met in the orchard, walking through the crowd toward us, her head down and her hands clasped together out of fear. A vendor in tattered clothing approached her, hackling her in a frightening manner. She winced away from him, her eyes remaining fixed on the gro
und where she made it obvious that she didn’t belong here. As we approached, I noticed Sam clenching his fists, his back becoming rigid and angry.
The vendor looked up, surprised by our sudden proximity. His grotesque smile sunk to a frown and he quickly backed away from the girl as he saw Sam’s wings tighten around his shoulders. The young girl shook before us now and I knelt to the ground, placing my hand on her arm to comfort her.
“Are you alright dear?” I asked quietly, the noise around me fading as I listened to her quick and frightened breaths. My heart sank as I remembered my own childhood fear. I was never able to understand my abilities and the rejection that always surrounded me had left me crippled. Her blond hair fell around her face, shielding her from the rest of the world in a veil of safety.
The cuffs of her white dress were stained with mud and her bare feet worn and dry. Her breath was still fast as she tilted her head up, her piercing blue eyes meeting mine like a wave of electricity. She blinked, fidgeting with her hands.
“Are you Estella?” She whispered, an innocent fear swimming in her eyes.
Shock overcame me as she uttered my name. I struggled to find an answer but instead I nodded, the lump in my throat refusing speech.
The girl continued to breathe in long laborious drawls and I wondered what had been done to such an innocent being, this true vessel of happiness that was now forever stained by this world. People began to gather around us, some watching me with vindictive stares, faltered in their thoughts only by the presence of Sam.
“You…” the girl stuttered, eyeing the sudden crowd, “You are to follow me.”
I looked at Margriete, pure fear and sorrow filling her eyes. Margriete nodded to me, placing one hand on my back and urging me to stand. I grabbed the girls hand in mine and she looked at me with an adoring stare, as though relieved I was here to comfort her. She turned and led me back toward the direction she had come, back toward the white towers. The crowd around us parted, keeping at a safe distance as though a bubble of air surrounded us.
Her tiny hand grasped mine with eager force as she pulled me forward. Her tiny palm was sweating, but she refused to let go as she stumbled ahead, a mirror of myself at her age. The ring on my chest was pounding with life, in time with my own heart as the gravel crunched beneath our feet, the girl taking two steps for every one of mine.
As we approached the gates, I saw that two guards were flanking each side. Their bodies were rigid like statues and their heads were that of wolves. I watched as their sharp eyes followed me in, their mouths now salivating with hatred.
Margriete leaned in toward me, “Be still, as long as we stay calm, there should be no trouble.”
The wolves growled at the sounds of Margriete’s whispers and she instantly backed away from me. The girl squeezed my hand even tighter until I could feel her own blood pouring through her veins. One guard let out a wild roar, the gates instantly breaking to life, the gears grinding as they forced open what looked like pure limestone doors.
I had never seen a structure so amazing in my entire life, so pure and yet ominous. The gates were at least forty feet tall and what seemed two feet thick. As they opened, the dirt pressed hard behind the doors as they swept inward. Once the doors came to a halt, the girl pulled me forward with duty and bravery, licking her lips as she concentrated on her task.
As we passed under the gateway, the doors behind us began to close and I turned my gaze to the road ahead. The path before us was made of pure white gravel with grass on either side, cut so short that it reminded me of a golf course. Against the wall on either side were rows of cages, filled with black ravens, an entire army of evil ready to be unleashed upon the world. The ravens began to move about as they saw me, discomforted by my presence in their kingdom. I looked one directly in the eye, shocked to find nothing more but a blank white stare, their souls completely gone.
At the end of the path were large stone steps that led up to another set of mahogany doors, studded with iron. The girl clamored up the steps and ruefully laid her knuckles against the wood, rapping softly as she released the stubborn grasp on my hand. She looked up at me as the doors slowly opened and her face relaxed as though released from the fear that had bound her. She blinked once, smiling in a manner that tickled my soul in a familiar way.
“This is where my time with you ends,” she blinked again, a tear rolling from her cheek. The girl’s voice was now full of authority and age, changing from that of the innocent child, to that of a woman who had seen a long life.
She smiled, her body now fading as though filtering away piece by piece. “I always knew my daughter would return to me, and fulfill the prophecies,” her child like features aged quickly, revealing a face not unlike my own.
My mouth fell as I kept my gaze locked on hers, realizing who she was.
“I have always been proud of you Elle, and though you never knew me, I have always been there, always watching over you,” she reached up and placed her hand on my heart, “Right here.”
“I…” I tried to reply but before I could even muster the words she had changed into a white raven, flying up and out of the courtyard as her body faded into the sky, blowing into the clouds as though nothing more than a ghost.
I fell to my knees, tears now running down my face. The emotion had been so sudden that there was little I could do to prevent it. I knew there had been something about her that had felt close, the way she grasped my hand was more than fear, but love and pride, the pride of a mother. I wiped a tear from my eyes as I tried to calm the overwhelming emotions that now knotted me. I did have a mother after all.
Sam wrapped his arms around me and lifted me to my feet. Without words, Margriete and Sam wrapped me in their comforting arms.
“It surprised me too once,” Margriete whispered into my ear. “It was here that I also met my own mother, but not the same way you have. I would have told you Elle, but I didn’t want to make a promise, not everyone is allowed to know of them, they are a forgotten generation.”
I took a deep breath and leaned out of the embrace. I wiped the tears from my eyes, finding my life unpredictably sweet in the worst of times. “But why did I never know of her?”
Margriete shrugged, “I don’t think they ever existed the way we have. We are still the first of our kind, created through breeding, a breeding for perfection.”
The sting of reality was still sinking in as Sam urged me forward. I wanted so badly to press rewind, to relish that small sacred moment once again. It had happened so fast that it now felt like nothing more than a dream, a lost moment that I would struggle to remember all my life.
Margriete grabbed the book from her back and flipped to the last page and smiled, “Here Elle,” she thrust the book toward me. “I’ll remember it for you.”
As my eyes fell on the page I saw the image of two ravens being drawn across the page, together in harmonious reunion, forever remembered in the journals of Margriete’s mind. I smiled at Margriete as we passed under the threshold and into the dark rooms beyond, “Thank you Grietly.”
UNGODLY HOUR
As the doors shut behind us, the hall burst to life with a hundred or more candles, hanging from iron chandeliers on the vaulted ceiling, nearly eighty feet tall. The hall itself was large, almost so large that it was hard to see the other side. Our steps echoed across the marble floors that were so black, it was as though you were walking on the night sky. The candles behind us smothered out as new ones before us crackled to life, surrounding us with a halo of light.
Curtains hung from the ceiling as though hung out to dry on a clothes line, each one a sheer wall as we stepped through them, following the long black marble and making our way toward a dim light at the back of the hall. Sam fought with the curtains, cursing to himself as he pressed each one aside.
Margriete laughed as she pressed back the last curtain, unveiling a door that had been cracked open as though expecting our arrival. Laughter and music erupted from inside and I found myself f
ull of curiosity, not fear. We all looked at each other one last time, taking a deep breath as I pressed my hand against the old door, opening into the room as bright light poured down over us.
The laughter I had heard instantly faded as my eyes adjusted and a scene formed before me. We had entered into a large room where I saw that a long table spanned the length of it, fitting in the space almost perfectly. Curtains hung from the walls and smoke from the thousands of candles rested toward the ceiling.
“Ahhh…”
A voice echoed through the room toward me, causing me to shudder, the tone a sad resemblance to that of Matthew’s. My breaths were short and measured as I looked around, prepared to face my fate. Roots grew from the ceiling as though suspended from the earth above and it made it hard to find where the voice had come from. Items were tangled amongst their branched, from swords to goblets, all matters of things both precious and trivial.
“We’ve been expecting you my dear!” another voice rumbled toward me over the long table, this time full of happiness and humor. “Come, have a drink!”
A goblet scratched its way across the table toward where I stood, weaving between the roots as though a puppet on a string. Sam snatched the glass before it tumbled to the floor, bringing it to his nose and inspecting the contents. He took one deep breath and winced away from the goblet, throwing it against the wall to the left and shaking his head, suggesting that whatever filled the glass was either foul or poisoned.
The laughter of five souls now filled the room, followed by the same deep voice, “I see you have brought protection. You are wise.” The voice exhaled as I tried to pinpoint the source. “It was worth a try, that trick usually works on someone that’s dumb enough.”
I took a bold step forward and around the table, pressing back the roots as I went. Sam followed me, a hand on my back as though ready to snatch me away at a moment’s notice. I pulled back a curtain that the roots had gathered into a knot and it was then I finally saw them.