Today I saw light fade

Last night I walked my dog, Mandy, for the last time. She was deliriously happy for the exercise, but collapsed and didn't move for the rest of the night once we finally got inside. Can't blame her.

Today I was woken at 6 am by my mother, telling me my father intended to take Mandy to the vet in half an hour. I got up as if automated, not yawning or stretching, just sort of moving, getting clothes on, eating a small breakfast, not thinking.

I stroked Mandy's head and scratched her ears as much as I was able. She panted happily to be given attention.

It took some time for my father to get the v an ready for her. He put a towel on the seat, had to move containers and crabbing equipment out of the way. Mandy was able to get down the stairs by herself and into the van with some encouragement, but didn't get on the seats. I rode beside her, continously stroking her hair and petting her body.

It took half an hour to reach the vet's. Mandy kept lifting her head to see the sights, but it was hard for her to stand for long in the bump and grind of the road. Whenever I stopped petting her she would nudge my hand or press her head into my leg, begging for more. I obliged, every time.

When we finally got there, I saw that my sister had arrived before us. I hadn't known she would be there; she had been crying for a long time. Her eyes were red, her hair was wild. Her boyfriend kept his arm around her.

I took Mandy to the sidewalk. She defecated on the pavement, but I couldn't do anything about it. I ignored it. We walked inside, and the nurse put their own leash on her, and led her away. Mandy fought it until my Dad scolded her and told her to behave, and she was walked away whining.

We waited in the room for 10 minutes. I paced and drank water constantly, keeping my face as hard as I could. My dad supported himself against the counter, pretending he was waiting for paperwork. My sister sat in a chair and tried to compose herself.

We were led into a small room to wait further. It was the room over from the room where Jake had been put down. I was silent. My dad asked why I didn't want to go to the Ocean with my mom. I didn't reply. He didn't say anything more.

Mandy was wheeled into the room atop a chest-level tray, bandages on her wrist. She was panting and looked around at us happily, I think happy to see us again. The doctor was there with her, needle at the ready. Me and Jamie pet her head and stroked her. We didn't say anything. This was goodbye. We scratched her head and touched her head. She panted happily. My dad touched my shoulder. I moved aside- the doctor was preparing to inject her.

I held her head as he slid the needle into her arm. She looked around lazily, kept panting. She looked tired. She looked into my eyes and slowly lowered her head against my hand. By the time her head touched the mat she was dead, eyes open, tongue caught between her lips. She was gone. I couldn't say the exact second. Only that between the slow collapse and the touch, she died, looking at me. Wondering, maybe. Going to sleep for the last time.

The doctor checked her body for a pulse as Jamie burst into tears. I couldn't breathe. I didn't breathe. The doctor left the room. We touched her for the last time. My father stroked her head and whispered "Good dog." I kissed her cheek.

It wasn't until I was home and alone that something in me snapped and I cried. I held her in my hands as she died. She was looking at me as she died. She died. She went from a living being of emotion and force to lifeless while I touched her.

She was a brat when she was younger. Always getting into things and bothering Jake. She grew up to be the alpha female. Everyone knew it- she bullied Jake and JJ. And in her final year she was dignified. She no longer bullied, but was respected.

She was a good dog. I miss her.

Shadecest

WARNING: The following is pure, unabashed smut written for a community LJ for tryinghuman. Do not read if this offends you.

Shadecest
Shade closed the door to her quarters, dimmed the lights, and walked over to her bed. She sat down and stared ahead for a moment, holding her hands in her lap. After a moment, she fidgeted imperceptibly, long fingers gently touching each other. Sliding her hand underneath her pillow, she pulled out the trying human circuit, closed her eyes, and touched it to her chest.

When she opened her eyes, she looked at her long, human fingers, and exhaled quietly through the red lips. She touched them with her fingers- felt the sensation, thick and soft. Her skin was smooth, and she stroked her own cheek, the tingling feeling of the new skin sending a chill down her spine. She was like a gear that had been wound too tight, and finally loosened; the tension went out of her, and she fell back onto the bed, her hair splayed out underneath her like a great white sheet. Boots were gently nudged off.

Her fingers slid through the white streams of her hair, and she gathered it between her fingers and held it up, touching the softness. Her motionless eyes stared at them, stroking a tuft of her hair with a thumb. She let it drop onto her face, feeling the tickling sensation. Her face involuntarily bunched up and she blew the hair off.

It felt nice. She stretched her arms into the hair, closed her eyes, pretending she was awash in a sea of white fur. She curled it around her fingers, looped clusters around her arms. Tiny pricks here and there on her head, pressure. She felt hot. Her heart was beating faster than was normal. She was thinking of her own naked body. She wanted to touch more of herself. Her stoic face scrunched just a little bit, and ruby lips parted to give a moist exhaled.

She pulled the collar down, looked down at the chest the circuit had given her. She plucked the buttons open on the coat, and slowly touched her belly. The coat fell open, exposing her pale, bluish purple nipples, which were already stiff, yet gently stretched into the open air as the heat of the overcoat was replaced by the cool, open air. Shade drifted through the alien sensation, focusing on the tiny details. Tiny tingles and itches around the edges of the aureole that seemed to magnify as she focused on them, the skin thickening and puffing. She could see in her head the blood vessels doing it, the rush of movement in her body. She was aware of the mass of muscles in her breast; and as she slowly pressed her hand into one, squeezed, felt them contract, felt pressure build up and release as her hand did.

She took a nipple between the fingers and pinched, eliciting an gasp that she didn't intend to release. She rubbed the nipple experimentally, seeing which way was the most sensitive. She grasped a tuft of her long hair, and brought the tip to the nipple, stroking it slowly over the pale blue. Her toes curled, and her back pushed off the bed. Her shoulders shook with the movement in her body, and she began to breath harder. She could feel her body becoming a tripoint; three hotspots of neural activity.

Continuing to tickle her nipple with her hair, her other hand slid down her white belly to the lower of her hip, and gently touched the lowest hotspot with her palm, sliding the hand between her legs. It was moist, and warm, and it felt good, and she pressed her hips into her palm and gently ground into her hand, tickling her nipple periodically. It was exhilarating, accelerating. Shade felt the whole of her body tense, suddenly jump, and lost control. She cried out softly. She spasmed as the tension left her, replaced with pleasant tinglings. what she knew were endorphins, pumping through the human flesh. Allowing her body a few minutes to return to a less heightened state, she gently began to explore her body again.

She was a well-greased gear tonight.

Home

Suggested listening: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MqTe-MgIAsA

I was living on a campus. Large, tall school buildings, dorms. Squares of grass with trees, long hallways. A math club is holding a competition outside, in the shade of one of the buildings. Solve the equations, get prizes! A surprisingly large crowd is drawn. Lot of people having fun. The contest ends- I win the day and the largest prize. My very own large room in the dorms, to myself. A worthy prize.

A group of chinese young men appear. They easily solve all the equations idly, getting everyone's attention. They ask to present their OWN equation for people to solve. The host is uncomfortable and tells them no, it's over, sorry. They are upset, and become creepy in a malevolent way. Staring, silently, as a group. Everyone begins to leave. I stay behind. I'm cocksure and full of myself for winning. I ask if I can give a shot at their equation. They share knowing smiles with each other.

They draw a bizzare, insane graph. Looping circles. It's art, more than it is lines. It's a representation of something. Something I'm not meant to understand. Just staring at the thing feels like I'm losing myself. I can't understand it. I'm not meant to. I don't want to lose- I say a random, bizzare, complicated equation- hoping to call their bluff and make them think I actually figured it out.

I'm wrong. There IS an equation. They know it. And I lose.

Their faces melt away into pure shadow with beady eyes of light. They are staring. Face shapes with eyes. No mouths. No ears. Nothing save for those beady glowing eyes. I pull myself away, going to run- but the whole world matches them now. Everything, everything is dark shadows and glowing light, seen through a grey, dim lens. I can't see myself. Small, complicated shapes no longer exist- the ground is just a plane of white; humans are gone. Trees are wretched forms of shadows, flickering, twisted things reaching to the sky. I whirl around- the men are gone. I am alone. There is no one here.

I stumble through the world, unsure of where I'm going. Space and time are stretched out here. Doors right next to each other have become stretched out with long hallways between them. I have the room I won in my head- a place to go to. My memories feel grey and fading. I feel thin and empty. I try to hold onto myself. The world shifts suddenly- light flashing, shadows growing. Dark sounds. Distant, deep drums. The sound of quiet moaning as if from a deep chasm. Is it me? Am I making that noise, or is something else doing that? I close my eyes, screaming.

The shift ends, but I am disquieted. I find the room- and I almost cry when I see that it is an empty square. No desks. No bookshelves. No books. However, there IS.. a bed. Thank god for small comforts. I curl up on it.

There is a window, but it's more like an open hole in this world. It's raining. The rain drops fall slow. Drops of light and shadow. Slivers, really. Fading as I watch them. I open my hand and try to catch one- a drop of light in my hand. But my hands are invisible, and I do not exist- it falls through where I imagine my hand to be. I spend hours outside in the slow-falling rain. It passes through me. It burns- but I don't care.

Time passes without me.

People say the dorm room I won is haunted after my mysterious dissapearance. Reports of things moving. Cold all the time. The sound of water coming from it, for brief instances. When people step inside they feel strange.

I don't explore too much. The world is too similiar to everything else. I could get lost very easily, I know this. I stay where it is familiar. Where I am safe. I do not need to eat. I do not need to sleep. I try- closing my eyes, in this world, acts similiar. The shifts frighten me, threaten me- but they never hurt me. Several times they occur when I am outside- and when they stop, I find that I am not where I was when they began. Sometime time and space bend; I am where I was going, or I am where I began. Or rarely, I am somewhere I have never been before, and shadows lurk around me.

I wonder how many others like me there could be here, trapped. Invisible. Unable to effect the world. Unable to live; unable to die. Alone.

A very long time I wait. It is a very, very long time. Eons. Unchanging. I sleep. The shifts awaken me, but this time-warped life eventually becomes unchanging itself.

The whispers become louder one eon. The shifts begin to occur more frequently. And most frighteningly of all, one shift puts me under the ground, in a grave. I am able to climb out through the dirt, passing through like a ghost, terrified that I am going the wrong way, pressing myself deeper into the earth. I find the surface at what seems hours, in darkness. A flat yard of light. I only vaguely recognize it.

It has been a long time since I have had to exist. I am almost nothing. But I walk- I float- mouthless, eyeless, without heart. I find the dorms again as it begins to rain. It is raining fast now. Normally. I stare up at the sky and blink. Something is changing. SOmething is coming.

I spend my eons awake now, watching, waiting. I am right. Shadows of men. Faceless, with eyes of light. They are coming again. Preying. I crawl down from the dorm, out of sight. They are watching something I cannot see. A shift. The biggest shift I have ever been through. The world inverts, turns upside down. Reality itself is inverting. Things that should not be are dissapearing. And from nothing, everything.

I am real again. I have flesh. I am exactly as I was. I am alone in the courtyard. The chinese men are walking away- they have not seen me. There is a sign on the courtyard wall for a math contest later tonight. Hours. I have hours after eons. I just sit and breath for a while. Air in my lungs. Blood in my veins. Real arms. Real. I slowly walk to the cafeteria. Food. No one notices me. No one stops me. I am like a living ghost. Seen but unnoticed. I don't care. Food in my belly. Cold water. An hour, gone.

I walk back to my room. It is locked. Abandoned. I steal the keys to open it- it is dirty, filthy. Dusty. I clean it. The sheets are changed. The dust removed. The floor and walls wiped. An hour, gone. But my room is good again. My room is good. My home. I need to fill it. Books, or.. something. I leave.

People notice this. They stare as I leave home, look inside. I don't care. It's getting close to time. There are people starting to gather in the yard for the contest. I walk there, wait there. A girl makes small talk with me. She says she hasn't seen me around before, asks my name. I no longer know it. I look familiar, her friend says. My eyes are very beautiful and haunting, they think. Like light.

The contest begins. It is all happening again. There is a winner- the girl I was speaking to. Again, the men approach. They don't see me, or they don't recognize me, or they don't care. I don't. I am cold and growing warm. They ask to present their own challenge. The host says yes. I am startled. Yes? I am forced to think. They begin to draw a large graph. Everyone stares, entranced. There is a box for submitting answers. I am frightened, backing away. The girl notices this. Begins to sense something is wrong. She asks if I'm okay. Sees my staring at them and the equation. They see me. They see me. THEY SEE ME. THEY SEE ME. THEY SEE ME. THEY SEE ME. THEY SEE ME.

Everyone is going to be wrong. The world is going to shift. Everything. Everyone. They are grinning. Grinning. Their faces are melting. Everyone is screaming. Their screams are shifting. Turning to hollow moans. Distant, from deep chasms. The girl and her friend are grabbing each other. I grab her as well.

The shift ends. I am nothing again. So are they... but I can feel them. I am holding onto them. I can touch them like I can touch myself. I hold onto them, touching them, they are touching me back, frightened. I think they know it's me. I can't be sure. But they are not running away terrified. I gently guide them. We are moving. The whole crowd must be with us now. Invisible, each alone, or with whomever they were touchin, but unable to see them.

What would happen if we had let go and run? Would we ever find each other again? Or simply be alone, knowing somewhere out there was the only companion we could have had? They couldn't know what was to come. They couldn't know. Couldn't. They'd run.. they'd hide. They'd let go. They'd never find them again.

I guide them to the room. Shapes of light and dark. A bed. I sit them down on it. They are touching my face. Probably each other faces. Trying to make sure it's us. We touch heads. Comforting each other. Holding each other. They shudder. I feel they are crying. I feel for them. But most of all, I am happy.

I am not alone. And they will not be, either. We cannot speak.. cannot see. There will be challenges.. they have never undergone a shift. It is certain in time we will be seperated by them. Time and space bending us apart. But they understand. This room is home. We can strive to find it, always. We can touch each other. There is comfort, pleasure to be had from that.

As the distant hollow chasms begin to moan, they cuddle close with me. Warmth. It begins to rain. My invisible, mouthless face smiles. I am happy.

We are not alone. We are Home.

Chapter 4

The next day, the girl was forbidden from leaving her room. The two guards she had seen posted by the stairs were now outside her room. She had slept in, undisturbed, and awoke with the vague sensation that the break of schedule was some kind of punishment. She'd opened the door, only to find them standing outside.

"Ah!" One of them remarked. It was Frederick, whom she had spoken with before. She recognized his face, and saw his eyes marked with a tired pity. The other guard's face was dark with blame and annoyance. It was Frederick who spoke. "You're up at last. Sorry, girl- can't let you out of your room today."

Her face look positively crushed, and she made such a face that Frederick seemed to almost back away apologetically. "Look, it's not my decision. The Princess' handservant told us to, and he had the authority of the Security Chief to back it up. WAnts you kooped up today, says you need to learn your dependence or something."

"You're not supposed to TELL her that, you idiot." His partner grumbled. "Now she'll just be pissy that she's being punished."

"Oh, come on, Raynor. Look at her. So what if she did sneak around a bit? It's not like we haven't wanted to, only we have posts to tend to. This place is ancient and old.. just imagine what kind of secrets its dusty rooms hold." Frederick gazed reverently at the walls, looking a bit foolish.

Her face was inquisitive, and she looked at Frederick expectantly.

"What..? You didn't know?" Frederick looked to Raynor.

"If she's telling the truth, she probably doesn't know anything about the Stormsidi." Raynor said. "I think that would include how old the castle is, or why.. well, if she's telling the truth." He sniffed and looked at her, his fingers tightening his grip around the spearshaft he held.

Frederick shrugged and looked at the girl. "Well, let's just ask her. Hey, do you know why this castle is important?" She shook her head, and he looked at Raynor with a "see?" look.

"How did you even GET this position?" Raynor muttered darkly.

As if he thought the question was sincere, Frederick responded. "WEeeell, my pappy was good friends with the King, one of his personal bodyguards. Kinda like the Princess' manservant, but officially recognized. Bless the king's heart." There was a moment of silence between the two guards. (The girl's participation was more or less considered voluntary.) "So a year or so ago I got an invitation to join the royal guard. Then this guy came and asked me to spy on the royal family for them, and they'd pay me a pretty big sum of silver. Of course, I said I'd never even consider it and they'd best find themselves lost, because the royal family was good to mine and I'd never betray them, not even for all the riches of the fairies. Well, the very next day, the Princess' manservant is at my door and takes me from home and hearth and wife to here." He exhaled and took a big breath.

Raynor stared at Frederick with wide eyes and blinked. "Wasn't meant to be answered, lad. But.. I see. Well, tell her whatever you want. If she IS a.. well, then you're not telling her anything she already knows. As long as you keep it to public knowledge." Frederick shrugged.

"Sure. It's not like we know anything the public don't." Frederick responded. "Alright, listen. You know why the Stormsidi's called such?"

The girl shook her head.

"Well.. do you know what fairies are?" He asked, looking nervous. She shook her head. "They're ancient things. Not human, but they looked human.. anyways, a long time ago, they interbred with the royalty of an ancient nation, called.. erm.."

"Blackwulfen."

"Something like that." Frederick said. "And the kings and queens of that line founded the Stormsidi. Following?" The girl nodded. "As a result, their line has always been.. blessed, I guess you could say. Fairies are weird. Their blood is even weirder.. but they've always ruled well."

"You speak of our Princess, Frederick." Raynor warned.

"I mean no disrespect." Frederick said. "Just, they've always.. well, I guess it's hard to convey in words. They're not mad, or ill. Just unusual. But powerful, wise, and majestic." He nodded. "And of course, their blood empowers the Stormsidi.."

"No one really knows the secret of the Stormsidi." Raynor finished. "But the royal line has something to do with it. An ancient power.. it was last used in legend, to defend the Stormsidi against barbarian hordes."

The girl listened intently, eyes flicking between the two, leaned against the doorframe with arms crossed.

Dream Journal: Shells

It is time to save the world again.

I am an investigator, cold and aloof, investigating the death of a citizen on our small little worldship. Their eyes have sunken into black sockets, and their expression is cold and miserable. It was just another game in the daily list of games the whole ship participated in. First person shooters, random physical activities. Everyone does them, every day. The person was "Shot" during a game and died for real and in a most unusual manner.

I am the only investigator on the ship. I ask questions. I discover that there are others who have died like this in the past. People forget quickly, too quickly. I discover that their energy has just been.. drained out of them, and this is the result. Their spiritual energy, or their "soul". People try to prevent me from learning more, things turn violent.

I am forced to kill someone attacking me in self-defense, and upon death they scream and vaporize, then respawn way back in their own home. Just like if we were playing a game. There's no boundary between our real lives and the games. It's all the same thing, I discover. The game is on, always. Why?

The ship is using our spiritual energy to power itself. The games are its way of harvesting us. Death, excitement, charges our energy, allows it to be harvested. Dying when you have energy left just lets the ship respawn you. But sometimes you have no energy left.

They're everywhere. Corpses, walking. Empty eye sockets. People ignore them. They're guided to ignore them. What happens, then, when you run out of energy, but you're not killed? When you just keep on living without your soul anymore?

You become an empty, cold shell. An investigator.

I pull the trigger on myself.

On the Run (Dream Blog)

There is a pale queen, and she is feasting on the heart of a horse. There is an army about her, and she means to use it to invade my homeland. My homeland is a land of modern times, urban houses and small parks. Her land is the land of fantasy and medieval, of wild men and magic. I am spying on her, but I am caught. She has a daughter, a queer girl who has a strange power. She leads me away from a spot just before a rock crashes into it. The power of slight presciency, or ability to see the future.

She is silent and does not speak, but her facial and body language say that she likes me. Her favor wins my survival, and she begifts me with small kisses. War comes. She is taken with an army of men to invade the modern world, and I go with her. We attack a fortress-prison to make a beachhead. I do not fight, but in the middle of combat. She turns, seeing what will happen just a moment before it does. I am cast off a wall and fall to my death below.

The queer girl screams, and casts powerful blood magic. She sacrifices her entire army. I awaken in a powerful rush of water, in the flooded debris of what was once a fortress. Blood, everywhere. I find the girl, who is near death, and I revive her with a kiss- giving up my life for hers. She refuses to allow it, and so we are both just alive, and weakened. She is the weaker, however, and a living soldier of my homeworld comes upon us. He recognizes her for what she is.

I am forced to kill him.

I am now a traitor to my own people, on the run in my homeland, carrying the girl and hiding within a suburban area. I gather supplies while I can, but a news bulletin gives my face, and I am forced to flee from police and military men, investigators with high-powered technology. The girl finds me, turns us invisible, and we hide, cuddled in a corner, as they pass. We hide in unlived houses, parks, and escape into the city. She protects me, and I protect her. We share blood now.

I find shelter in an old friend's home, who is torn between his friendship with me and the fact I am harboring a powerful enemy. I need to get her back to her homeland, and avoid the searching. The girl does not trust him. She wants me to kill him. War is coming, in the shape of horses and fires. The queen searches, too, for her daughter, and the man who took her.

I must do my best to keep them both alive as I search for a way to return her home. Being found by either army would mean the death of one of them- and me.

Stormsidi (Chapter ?)

The girl sat in the windowsill, gazing out to sea as she did each morning. Fog rolled over the blue waves, and waves sprayed mist. There was a gentle silence as the light danced beams around the water and walls. She pulled her nightgown tight around her ankles and rested her arms on her knees.

The smooth, deep voice of King snuck in through the silence. She knew what he was going to ask as soon as she heard him. "Do you remember what happened the night we found you?" He asked. The girl turned her head to look at him with a reluctant expression and blew some hair out of her face, shaking her head with downward, insincere eyes. "Try. It's important." Her eyes focused on a distant point, and then flicked to his. A slight shake of her head. ".. I see. You know, maybe your memory would be stirred if I told you what we knew." The girl looked apprehensive.

"We were moving the Princess to a new safecastle. Our old one was compromised after our former head of security was killed." The girl's eyes narrowed slightly and she quickly looked out to the sea as King watched her. She bit her lower lip and looked back to him. His eyes felt piercing. "We heard gunfire on the path.. there was an explosion. We found you there. Our men saw several rebels fleeing the scene. Do you remember any of this?"

The girl sighed, and nodded slightly, looking up into King's eyes. "Do you remember what happened before we arrived?" She shook her head before he was even finished asking the question. "I see." This would not be the last time he asked this question, it was clear.


She spent the day padding barefoot around the section of the castle she was confined to, creeping about quietly pressed to walls and listening to people and sounds. The castle was pristine in the parts that had been cleaned, but many parts of it, especially those not in use, were full of dust and a strange musty smell that permeated the air with age.

Many of the doors available to her were locked, but she could see through the keyholes dark rooms of shapes. The door four doors down from her room was locked, but the lock fell apart after a few strong jiggles and led into what must have once been a royal pantry. The crates and boxes remained, but the food was long gone. The girl toed around stains on the floor and pushed aside boxes, climbed on top of tables and peeked on top shelves, blowing dust off.

There was a hole in wall behind one of the boxes. When she leaned down to inspect it, she could feel a cold wind blow through it, chilling her. There was a passageway.

She could just barely fit into the hole, and it took some scraping and bending. Her nightgown bunched up at the shoulders and she stopped, halfway through the hole, because she did not wish to tear it, and carefully adjusted herself until she could push through. The secret passageway was as wide as a man and remarkably clean.

There were small sources of light peeking in through the sides of the passageway, from the outside. Bricks that were glowing. The girl walked up to one and inspected it, and discovered that the brick was actually see-through and glass. She followed the wall and the bricks along, until she came to an old grating in the floor. There was some sort of duct in the floor. The air was cold and blowing fast in it. Some kind of air conditioning system? She wondered. She pulled the grating off and decided to chance exploring, sliding easily into the duct-space. It was big enough to comfortable crawl in, although it was quite cold.

She crawled until she came to an opening that peeked into a room below. It was a very small opening, not enough for even a child to crawl through, but she could still see into the room. It was an office, with plans and maps laid out on the wall. It seemed vaguely familiar to her. Inside the room was a strange man she hadn't seen before, but his voice she recognized from somewhere.

"I don't agree." The strange man said. He was dressed in dark blue, practical clothing, with buttons up his arms and short brown hair. "It's a big security risk."

"Everything is, these days." The voice belonged to King, though she could not see him. "It's your job to prevent anything disastrous from happening. If you think it needs a greater security detail than the guards assigned to the Princess.."

"I'm not saying that they're not up to the task. It's just.." The man ran his hand through his hair. "We don't know anything about her. And we can't find anything out about her. There's nothing on her. It feels obvious to me there's more going on here."

"I agree." King rumbled. "But until we know more, I don't see a problem with keeping her in the safecastle."

"I do!" The man exclaimed. "She could be a spy. She could be an assassin. If you'd just let me interrogate her-"

"The Princess has deemed that unnecessary. I agree."

"I don't agree with your trust." The man replied with a deep sigh. The girl studied his features carefully. His eyes were deep and heavy. He'd not gotten much sleep. He looked stressed out, the girl recognized.

"It's not within your authority to deny the will of the throne." King said.

"It IS within my authority to decide measures to protect the throne." The man said. "As your new chief of security, that is well within my purview. And this girl is an obvious risk. Adoral was killed because he trusted someone he thought he could trust, even when all evidence pointed against it. As his replacement, I'm not going to see the same trick played twice." He stood up straight, and looked firmly in the direction of King.

"...very well. What do you want to do?" King said.

"I want to interrogate her. Myself. How I please." The man said.

"No." King said, with a level of grit in his voice the girl had no heard before. She shuddered, and rubbed her hands together hard. It was so cold in the vent. "I do not allow that."

"You don't have the power to deny me." The man replied. "I am acting in the interest of the throne. You may be the Princess' servant, but it is not you who is chief of security."

"Perhaps. But we are both charged with protecting the Princess. You cannot do your duty long if you focus overly much on your own will. She has given you her will. The girl is not. to. be. harmed." King said.

The man was silent for a long while, looking at the wall. The girl adjusted herself slowly, looking into the vent until she could see King, who looked.. harried. Angry. There were lines in his face she had never seen until now. His eyes flicked up for a brief moment, and she pulled back, unsure if he had seen her. If he had, he did not express it in his body or words.

"Interrogate her if you must. But her recovery will not be interrupted." King said.

"Her recovery." The man said with an air of mocking. "How convenient, her silence. How arbitrary, her timing." He sighed. "Very well. Take me to her. I will ask her my questions, if she can answer them." He gestured to the door. They were coming to see her! If she was not in her room, or at the very least the hallway she was supposed to be confined to.. she squirmed in the vent and backed up slowly as the cold wind blew against her backside.

It took her precious minutes to scoot herself up to the grate that she had entered into, and she quickly pulled herself out, forgetting the grating and rushing towards the hole. She quickly pulled off the nightgown and tossed it through the hole, and threw herself through it, struggling mightily to slide through, scraping and slicing. Quickly, she blew off the nightgown and pulled it back on, and slid out of the room with all the quietness of a very quiet mouse.

The hallway was silent yet judging. She could hear voices coming from near her room. She calmed her heart as best as she could, smoothed out her dress, and stepped forward on bare feet around the bend of the hallway until the man and King came into sight.

"..not here! Who gave her permission to..?" The man paused, seeing the girl. She looked fearful and nervous, but slowly stepped forward. Her posture was that of someone who had known they had down wrong; shoulders slumped, movements slight, head slightly bowed. "There she is."

King walked in tall strides to her and quickly grasped her shoulder. He squinted slightly. "Cold. You're very cold.. and bleeding." He was looking at her shoulder. There was dirt and a small amount of bruised bleeding. "What were you up to? Come." He pulled her past the man into her room, and the man followed. King pulled out a fresh set of bandages as she sat down on the edge of the bed. As she waited, the man walked up to her, with a strange, cold look in his eyes, yet awkward nervousness in his posture, she noticed.

King dabbed ointment and disinfectant against her shoulder, and she cringed, but he pressed the disinfectant harder against her. Silently expressing his disapproval of whatever she had been up to, to obtain such injuries. He began to wrap the bandages around her as the man began to speak.

"My name is Michael." He said. "I'm the Chief of Security here. I've like to ask you some questions." It was clear from his tone the girl had no choice.

"What is your name?" He asked. She shook her head. "You can't give it, or you don't have one?" She squinted one eye at him and made an annoyed face. King looked at the man. "Alright, fine. Do you HAVE a name?" She shook her head.

"Okay. The night you were encountered, there was an intense firefight, that sparked off REMARKABLY close to us. Do you remember that?" She nodded, but slightly. "I bet. You got injured in that. Do you remember how?" She hesitated. She.. could she? Was it there? Or would it hurt too much to know? She looked to the side. "You do." The man replied. He leaned forward. "YOur throat. It was.. I'm told the healers had never seen such an injury. Someone didn't want you talking." She shrunk from his presence as much as she could. King tied tight the last bandage on her shoulder. "Why were you there?"

She looked at Michael with a hopeless expression. He pressed forward. "WHY were you there? It was late at night. In the middle of a firefight. You had plenty of time to escape. The rebels are careful to maintain perfect PR. WHY were you hurt?" He demanded, grabbing her shoulder forcefully. King looked at the man with alarm. "ANSWER ME!" She said nothing, biting her teeth and staring at the floor with wide eyes. Michael rose his hand and backhanded her, and in return King slid inbetween her and Michael with a sense of presence she had only guessed he had.

"That's enough." King said, holding his arms open. Michael looked at his hand, and sighed.

"I'm sorry. I lost my patience there." He said quietly. "You must understand the position you've put me in. You're an unknown person, with an unknown identity, and you cannot speak.. It is all so convenient." He stared at her intensely with those cold eyes of his, and then turned and left. She watched him go with King.

King turned to look at her with a sad expression on his face, but it sublty reverted to his normal, expressionless face. "You've made an enemy of him, I fear. I'm not sure he'll ever accept your presence. Not as the Princess has begun to.. you should rest. You are cold, and injured. You should refrain from exploring the castle so intently in the future. It will lead you to harm." He warned. King left the room, leaving her alone.

She slid to her pillows and rest her head on them, and stared, imagining terrible things.

Stormsidi Character Sheets (Ariel/Aerika)

"Ariel"

1. Key Facts
She is curious and searching for something to call her own.
She is lonely and looking for somewhere to belong.
She is a trickster, energetic on her own and shy when confronted.
She does not speak, and it is unclear if she can't or is choosing not to.
She is potentially a spy, and behaves very much in a manner as a spy would, sneaking around, creeping around, watching people, listening in.
She remembers details from another life; an empty apartment, a hard world without friends. An empty world.

What happened?
The Dark Man was part of a group of of young intellectuals who decided they wanted to support the rebellion and made a stand in the city, foolishly, because they had no contacts with the rebellion. Their insurgency was put down and the Dark Man watched his friends executed or jailed. He was pardoned because he accidentally misfired and shot a friend in the back, saving an officer of the city, and this was taken to be a gesture of turning back to the city instead of the accident it was.

He was contacted by members of the rebellion and told the knowledge his friends' deaths weren't going to waste, if he worked for them. He agreed, and began a career of spying, reporting important information, and funding the rebellion.

2. Goals
Ariel wants to become recognized as a protector and defender.
I want her to go from a shy sneaker to a strong warrior.

3. Secrets
As the Dark Man, they knew who really killed their best friend (themselves) and didn't tell anyone.
As the Dark Man, his double-agent status was well-known by the loyalists and his most recent contact in the Rebellion was actually working for the other side, keeping tabs on him.

Ariel knows a tremendous amount of information regarding the Rebellion that she is hiding from everyone.
King knows she is a Doll, which even she doesn't know. Others (The SEcurity Chief, Aerika) suspect.

4. People in their Life
Aerika (Friend and Possible Romantic Interest. CLosest companion)
The Captain (Former commanding officer, has an interest in saving her from what he sees as a gruesome fate, but an enemy of the loyalists)
King (Servant to Aerika, a mentor and friend)

5. Mannerisms or Quirks
Prefers going barefoot.
Extremely physical to make up for her lack of vocal language.
Strongly dislikes the sound of chewing and hums a quiet song while eating.


"Aerika"
1. Facts
Aerika is the Princess (technically Princess-in-waiting) of the Stormsidi.
Aerika has blonde hair and bright blue eyes.
Aerika lost her father a few years ago, forcing her to take the responsibilities of managing the Stormsidi.
Aerika has chosen to become a mature, hard woman and give up her childhood to ensure the Stormsidi is well-cared for.
Aerika is tired and weary and looking for something bright in her life.

2. Goals
Aerika wants to secure the city from her brother's rebellion.
I want to see Aerika torn between her responsibilities and the enjoyment that Ariel brings into her life.

3. Secrets
Aerika knows the Stormsidi's Secret, and who the real ruler of the city is.
King knows Aerika's mother was not her father's wife, a fact well-hidden.

4. People
King, Aerika's supposed manservant who knows way too much.
Wolfholme, Aerika's brother who seeks the throne on the basis that as the elder, it should have gone to him.
Ariel, the strange girl who brightens her days and might be spying on her.

5. Mannerisms/Quirks
Rarely smiles in public.
Is easily moved, but tries to hide it.
Always keeps her cool.

Aerika was born out of a tryst between her father and a handmaiden, but said to be his. This caused her mother to kill herself, which imprinted on Wolf from an early age that Aerika was Bad. They grew up as good siblings, however, until their father's death. Aerika's father was always ashamed of her, and her brother blamed her for his mother's death, so she never truly felt closely loved. Their father's death tore the siblings apart.

Stormsidi, Chapter Three (?)

The next day, the girl got out of bed on her own and walked to the window. There, she pulled the window open and closed her eyes, letting the morning dew air rush into the room, chilling it. Her fingers rolled and tapped along the windowsill, squeezing the rough stone. The air smelled salty. She pulled herself into the windowsill, barely large enough for her to sit in, and took the chance to have a look around while no one was watching.

There wasn't much to see- a small, grassy yard below, walled in. Beyond the walls was the ocean, rolling off into the distance. Other windows on the wall. A mossy patch covered the whole wall next to her. She gripped it and tugged it gently. It was very firm. She struggled to pull off a small portion of it, and held the grassy patch in her hand.

"Thinking of climbing out? I wouldn't do that." Her hand clutched the grass tightly and she pressed herself into the wall to make herself as small as possible in response to being startled. King was in the room, but she hadn't heard him open the door or walk in. "The lesser reason being that that courtyard doesn't go anywhere free. You're in the most heavily secured portion of this safecastle."

The girl looked to confirm with her own eyes. There were no doors leading out. Into the castle, yes. A small pool that didn't go anywhere.

"The greater reason being you'd fall and hurt yourself. You're still weak. You might always be weak." King walked up to the girl and took her arm, rubbing the skin. The girl's eyes followed his carefully, curiously, allowing him to touch her. "They're soft. Untrained. It's as if you've never used them, but still they grew. Just there for appearances. Very strange." The King's eyes met hers, and she felt studied. He was searching for answers in her face, a kindling of recognition of what he was saying. She had none to give.

He turned away, looking out the window. The girl could feel an air of unsatisfaction from him. "We're going to start you on exercises. Light ones. See if we can't build you up a little. Do you feel like you can handle it?"

The girl looked thoughtful, and looked at her arms. He was right, that she felt like a stick. She hadn't thought to question it. In her mind, she was still a ghost, just moving out of the fog into the world. So what he was really asking, she thought, was would she like to be real? Solid? Her fingers tingled, and she wiggled them, opening and closing her hands. She turned to King's face and nodded with a firm, sincere expression.

"Good." He gestured towards the bed, where new clothes were folded and waiting for her. "I knew you'd say so. Put those on." The girl clasped her hands together and opened her mouth wide in pleased surprised, and hopped off the windowsill, tumbling to the floor. The King moved to help her up, but before he could reach her, the girl was back on her feet and limping to the outfit, folding it out.

It was white, with royal purple trim, snug and short. "This will be your training outfit. It should fit you qui-" King coughed and turned away as the girl peeled off her nightgown and began to try out the outfit. "fit you quite nicely." He finished, looking out the window as if there was something fascinating on the horizon. A hand gently touched his elbow, and he turned to look at the girl. "Ah.. it does. Treat this uniform well. It's the official training uniform of.. well, it's important." He looked at the bed, then at the girl's bare feet. "Why didn't you put the shoes on?"

The girl wiggled her toes, and shrugged with a smile, looking at King's face.

"Well, okay. They'll hurt. If you still don't want to.. well, you'll learn." King said. "Now.. come with me." He walked to the door, and opened it. The girl followed him, and at his gesture peeked her head outside. The hallway outside was curved, such that she couldn't see it's end. A hand on her back pushed her out and she waved her arms wildly, trying to keep her balance. There were guards outside her door, looking at her with amused, curious expressions. She quickly straightened up and pretended nothing was going on.

"At the end of the hallway is a wooden door. Run to it, touch it, and run back here." King said, leaning on the door. "Go."

She ran. Her bare feet hurt as they hit the stone but she didn't care that much. She'd spent the last few days hurting much worse. There were doors all along the hallway, and she wondered in her head what was behind them. There was a burning sensation creeping into her shins and thighs. Her chest felt thin and the air was hard to suck in. It only took a minute to reach the end of the hallway, but she already needed to stop at the door and rest her head against it. The two guards nearby looked at her curiously.

"Ey, you the prisoner?" One of them asked. He was wearing a pointy hat but he had nice brown eyes, she noticed.

"Frederick!" The other guard said, making a cutting motion across his throat. "She's the GUEST. Of the Princess."

"Er, right. Sorry. You're not a prisoner. Can't let you past this door though." Frederick said, tapping the door with the bottom of the polearm he was holding.

She shook her head and stuck a thumb in the athletic shorts she was wearing, pulling them out and letting them make an audible snap sound as they slapped back against her skin.

"Oh." Frederick said. "You're training. Right." He looked to his companion, who shrugged. "You know, I remember that outfit. I think the Princess wore it when she was being trained."

She widened her eyes and looked down at the outfit, checking it out again.

"Didn't know that, huh? Eh.. maybe I should shut up."

"Yeah, maybe." His partner grumbled.

"Well, you should start running back. Her mentor's pretty hard on her, I doubt he'll go easy on you." She nodded and began to run back, turning to wave at them. Frederick waved an arm back. "Good luck!" He shouted.

"You shouldn't encourage her like that." His partner said.

"Why not? She seems nice."

"Yeah. Seems."

Frederick rolled his eyes.


She had to walk back for the final few meters, as her legs simply hurt too much. She flopped against the wall near King.

"Done already? That's.. well, that's to be expected. I thought you might be capable of more, considering.. well, it's fine. A good warm-up."

The girl looked up at him with a nervous, somewhat horrified expression as he grinned back down at her.


He made her do fifty push-ups in sets of ten. Inbetween, he had her do crunches, jumping jacks, and run the door again. It only took an hour, but by the time he was finished she practically collapsed into his arms and let him drag her to the bed to lay her down. He called for the maid, who then helped her out of her clothes and into the bath- giving her privacy, of course, until the girl walked out covered in suds and pointed to her back and then to the maid, who was cleaning up the bed. The maid, flustered and embarassed, agreed to help her wash up.

"Well, my name is Rose." The young maid said as she scrubbed the girl's back as she sat at the edge of the bath. "Guess you don't have a name yet, but I'm sure we'll figure something out with that. I guess you only know me from my cleaning stuff up, but that's really not all I do. I've actually gone through all the training the Princess' servant has to offer already.. well, the basics, at least. Supposedly she's getting even more intense training. At one point I was doing 12-hour training. Can't imagine how much worse it has to be for her. She still has time for her duties, though, you know? Anyways, I went through it because I'm in line to become a handmaiden. My mother was one, and everyone thinks I will be one too. It'd be a good life, I think?"

Rose was very, very talkative. From her, the girl learned that the Princess enjoyed swimming, her manservant was rumored to have been a former General of the former King, and that the King had died two years hence. When Rose found out from the girl's clueless reactions that the girl didn't know anything about the Stormsidi or its history, she clammed up and muttered to herself that someone else would have to explain THOSE basics to her.

She replaced the bandages when the girl was dried off. It was still a painful process, and the girl almost didn't want to see what was underneath. There were scars. She had been pretty badly hurt. Her upper right arm had been burned. Her abdomen had a nasty scar on the left side. There was still blood visible on both thighs. And she almost blacked out when the maid touched the neck bandages. She ended up quietly whimpering as the maid gingerly peeled them off and replaced them. The maid whispered softly to her. "It'll be okay, just close your eyes and think happy thoughts. Good, warm food. You can go back to bed after this. It'll be comfortable and soft. Won't that be nice?" It didn't help. She thought of eggs.

She thought of warm beds. She could only imagine the bed waiting for in the next room. When she tried to think harder, she could only feel a deep, cold fog, embracing her, and she shivered. Rose asked her if something was wrong, but how could she respond? She stared at the water in the tub. It looked murky and foggy. She thought of beds, and she could feel a cold bed against her. A rainy day, the rain blowing in through the window. A sense of loss. A feeling of quiet rage. She could see something in the water. A face. Was it hers? It was silent. Rose was speaking, but she heard nothing. It was a cold face, with grey eyes and a sad expression. Her face. She toppled into the water facefirst, staring at the bottom of the tub. Her eyes burned.

She could feel herself being dragged out of the tub. She was breathing, and after a minute, she was being dried off and pulled into the bed. Instinctively, she closed her eyes and waited. A cold fog. Someone talking. Pushed too hard. Had to be done. Need to be strong. She pushed through the fog and opened her eyes. King was beside her bed. He gently touched her shoulder. She nodded at him, and did her best to smile. She wished she could tell him what she saw in her head. It felt like he could fix it, if she told him. He had that kind of presence.

But she couldn't. So she just laid in bed, and slept.

The Empty Storm (Chapter 1?)

(This is poorly written, so apologies in advance.)

William awoke in a bed, lacey white sheets hiding the room from him. There was a cat sitting at the foot of the bed, and it sleepily eyed him as he sat up. He had a bandage on his head, and touching it stung fierce. The cat stretched out its back like bending jello and pawed next to him, sniffing at him. He gently patted it, and it hissed and spat at him, clawing and biting his hand and dashing off before he could react. Cringing and holding his hand, William James slid off the covers to the bed and made sense of his surroundings.

He was in a cramped room, full of books and stuffed animals. The bed was shoved up against a wall, with a mesh window overseeing the city outside. A radio blared quietly, reporting a storm warning for area codes.

He stared out the window, looking over the city. "What happened last night..?"

"I'd like to know that, too." said someone behind him. William whirled around to see the young woman from the brief few seconds he'd been in the street. She looked a little worse for wear. "My name's Amy. What's yours?"

"Williams. William James." He said.

"Okay.. William. How are you feeling? What do you remember?" Amy asked. The cat from earlier peeked out from behind her legs, purring softly.

"I'm okay, I think. My head feels weird, but it doesn't hurt. Last thing I remember is the street.. and before that, the.. cold. The darkness." Williams eyes went quiet, and he stared off into an unfathomable distance. "The storm." He pulled himself out of his strange reverie, and looked at Amy.

"The.. storm? It wasn't raining when you appeared. You know, I could have sworn I was looking right at you when you... fell. You just sort of.. came out of nowhere, but.. not. Like you were sort of always there and suddenly we could see you." Amy said, her voice quiet and afraid.

"That doesn't make sense." William said.

"No. But.. what was it like, from your perspective? Did you just spring out of nothing?" Curious, fearful eyes looked at William.

"No. I mean, yes, but there was something before that. The storm. I was on my way home in Pasadena, and-" Amy's eyes widened. "What?"

"No, finish your story." Amy insisted.

"Huh? Well.. the storm happened. It was like a really bad hurricane out of nowhere. The sky got really dark, and there was an earthquake, and.. there was screaming and howling. I was right there, when it happened. A vortex in the sky and earth.." William sat down on the bed suddenly, breathing hard. "Things.. my dad, I don't know if he.. I don't know how I got out. I just ran, and suddenly I was here."

Amy was quiet for a while. "This was yesterday for you?" She asked.

"Yeah. ..Why?"

"Well, for starters, this is Baltimore. Follow me." Amy said quietly. She left the room, and William followed her down a small hallway to another room, where there was a small bed and a computer desk. She opened up a browser and googled "Pasadena tragedy". News articles and images filled the screen. A little alarm beeped in the lower right corner of the screen.

"Pasadena was destroyed twenty years ago." Amy said. "A freak storm.. they said it was a really bad geomagnetic thing. A force of nature. The whole place was levelled."

"..no.." William stared at the images. The ground look like it had been torn apart into neat chunks, lifted or deposited within the earth.

"No one ever really found out what happened. Everything and everyone in the area was just sort of.. gone. The whole area is supposed to be really haunted, too. People hear things. We've seen things.. they say it has something to do with the magnetics messing with our head, but I don't think anyone really knows. The only team sent in to study it didn't come back. The government's closed it off until we understand what happened."

William sat down on the floor in a stupor. Amy looked at him for a while, and then looked out the window. "So you can't be from there. You wouldn't even have been born when it happened.."

"I am." William said, blinking. "I am from there. I swear. I grew up there. It can't just be.. gone."

"You took a really bad head injury. Maybe you're just remembering that stuff."

"You said you SAW me appear out of nowhere."

"..yeah. I can't explain that. I think I believe you.. but I don't know what this means."

The beeping alarm was all the sound in the room for a minute. William gestured at the computer. "What's wrong with it?"

"Oh, that? It's a weather alarm. It looks like a storm has.. actually wait." Amy clicked the alarm through to a warning.

EMERGENCY: TROPICAL STORM IN PASADENA AREA THAT APPEARED LAST NIGHT UPGRADED TO HURRICANE AS OF 15:00. THOSE IN AFFECTED AREAS, GET TO THE CLOSEST STORM SHELTER AS SOON AS POSSIBLE AND STAY AWARE OF NEWS AS IT IS UPDATED.

"Oh." Amy said. "That's us."

William had a dread feeling in his gut. "We need to get outside." He said with a shaky voice. "Right now."

"Why?"

"Just do it! How do we get outside?" William insisted. Amy stammered, got up, and showed William the way out, where he stumbled into the streets.

From their vantage point, they could see all the way to the other side of the city. A great mass of clouds was approaching the far end of the city, shadowy and violent. Silent gusts of wind blew against him as he stared into the distance.

Amy followed him, holding her arms in the wind. "It looks like the storm's coming in fast. We need to find a storm shelter."

"There's no point." William said. "It's the storm. It's here. It's HERE!" He pointed his finger. "Look. Can't you see it? Can't you feel it?"

Amy stared into the approaching clouds, and felt a pit of despair in her stomach, as if though she was looking at a blade flying for her heart. "..It's just a storm. A bad one. Look, come with me."

"It's the SAME storm." William said.

"..twenty years apart?" Amy said.

"Yes! No! I don't know! It's the same storm. I can feel it. It didn't stop."

"It hasn't been storming since twenty years ago!"

"It has for me." William said. Above them, the clouds rolled over. A faint rumble began to shake the ground. "It's the same. This is how it started." In the distance, buildings shook, cracks formed. A powerful force whipped through the air, blowing past Amy and William. A structure collapsed, sending plumes of dust and smoke into the air. Distant screams.

"We need to get to a shelter." Amy said, looking between William and the storm, fidgeting her fingers.

"The pictures of Pasadena.. There's no point." William repeated.

"If this is the same storm.. nothing was left in Pasadena. What are we supposed to do? HOw do we escape?"

William turned to look at Amy, looked at the storm, and then bolted. Amy took off after him. Behind them, buildings began to tumble. Water and wind gushed from the docks, surging through the streets. William ran past a building as a funnels of wind lanced from the sky and smashed into it, ripping foundations up from their roots and tossing cars into the air. A gas station collapsed into the ground besides them.

The road cracked and rose upwards, forming a cliff that blocked William and Amy. A wave of water was coming at them from behind. Amy grabbed William. "Whatever you did, do it!"

"What?!" Water was licking at their shoes, surging forward from the crashing storm.

"ESCAPE!" Amy screamed.

Something tugged inside of William. He closed his eyes and screamed, grabbing Amy and pulling it out from himself. Cold smashed into him as if he had been launched through ice. Cold, silence. The same as before, he thought. Amy was with him. The city of Baltimore simply rushed away from them through space.

The ground rushed up at him, and he collapsed in a dead field with Amy beside him.

The Empty Storm (Prologue)

On a beaten, heavily forested road overlooking a wide river, an old van trundled home. William James sat in the back seat, arms crossed, head leaning against the windowpane as he stared out in apathy. He could see the river through the trees, and the weathered and expensive houses on both sides of the bank. The sky was gray and lifeless above, with the occasional dark rumbling accompanying a single drop of rain against the window pane every now and then. The branches above were silent and still as the van trodged along underneath them.

His father was giving him the tired old speech again. He couldn't go on through his whole life like this. Listlessness didn't put food on the table. Plenty of other people had jobs they hated but they did them anyways for the few hours of life they got at the end. He'd first heard the speech when he was twelve. He'd spent years doing things for the sake of feeling alive. It hadn't worked. He wasn't sure he'd ever feel like his father said he was supposed to.

Today was the seventeenth iteration. He'd stopped listening around the tenth iteration of the speech. His father had stopped caring around the twelfth. The radio was on, blaring white noise underneath his father's voice. It was all just white noise to him.


Thunder cracked from the sky, and William's eyes darted over the sky for any sign of lightning, but could find none. He resumed staring at the river, but the river growing rapid and turbulent. He focused, looking up and down the length of the river with his eyebrows furrowing, confused. There were small waves forming. The docks off the houses were starting to come apart. A wooden pillar ripped away from underneath one and began floating downstream. He looked back to the sky, through the motionless branches. There was a dark spot forming in the clouds, and a thickening layer blanketing everywhere he could see. A long whisp of a cloud peeled away from the forming masses, turning back towards the dark spot forming. More followed, forming a slowly circling mound.

Hairs began to raise on the back of William's neck, his heart pounding. Something was wrong here, he could feel it.

The thunder crashed from what felt like all around them, the tremendous booming shaking the van. The noise did not completly fade away, a continuous rumble remaining, growing. The seat was vibrating with the noise as it grew, overtaking the radio, drowning out his father's voice. His father stopped talking, pulled the van onto the side of the road and got out, staring up at the forming mound in the sky. The circling clouds were widening until they appeared like an upside down vortex, the center at the highest point.

Part of the river start flowing backward against the current, forming a frothing wave that crashed and dissipated. Another tiny vortex formed in the center of the river, growing larger with each moment. William slid the van door open and walked around to the roadside to stare at the sight of the river, unable to hear his father over the thunder's never ending rumble. The docks of the houses near the river broke apart violently, chunks of wood splintering and dissapearing into the forming maelstrom. He stood transfixed by what was happening.

A hideous scream broke the terrible rumbling noise, coming from the woods all around them. It was a scream unlike any animal ever heard. It was like a woman's scream, but without anything human about it. It sent chills through William's bones, freezing him to the ground. He couldn't breathe. The space around William grew heavy, as if though the very air itself was pushing against him. He struggled to even gasp.

The shrieking faded. He clutched at his chest and sucked in air as he found himself able to move again, leaning against the van. His father was grabbing at his heart, eyes bulging. He screamed for William to get back in the car. Something was different now. William felt it. Something was tugging at him on the inside, like a heartbeat. A vicious wind was picking up at last, blowing his hair every which way. Rain battered him, coming at him from every angle. He jumped back into the open van and shut the door as quickly as he could, curling up against the seats. The van's engine started up again and began to speed away. William couldn't take his eyes off the water.

A rumbling in the ground began to match the rumbling in the air. The water vortex's center suddenly dropped as if the ground beneath it had given way, forming a true spiral of water dipping into the depths. The banks beside the water cracked and launched upward, houses and all, forming tremendous cliffs over the water, obscuring the river from view. The remains of the docks snapped away and fell with the crumbling earth. There was a lone unfortunate figure on the very edge of the newly-formed cliff. William wondered what the person could see from there. His eyes were pulled upwards as the clouds spiraled away as the water head. He watched dumbstruck as the center of the cloudy vortex shot upwards and upwards until he couldn't see it anymore.

The shrieking came back. It was much closer this time. He looked around in terror, pressed against the van's insides. The van lurched and jumped over a bump in the road and slammed into the muddy bank, tires squealing loudly and digging themselves in. His father gunned the engine and tried to manuever them out of the mud, but it was useless. William shrunk back into the seat, clasping his arms around himself, feeling a shivering cold creeping into the car.

A low, primal growl echoed from the forest bank nearby. The growl was the most singularly upsetting thing William had ever heard in his life, even with the shrieking in the background. It was a sound of nightmares, a monstrous thing, feral and deep. His father stopped dead in his efforts to gun the engine, looking nervously at the bank. William's eyes turned to meet the source of the growl.

He couldn't scream. He couldn't breath. He yanked the door to the van open and ran onto the road. The air felt heavy and got heavier with every step. He strained. He ran. He had to escape. The pulsing within him beat faster, faster, faster. It was behind him. He could feel it. He had to get away, away, away. He ran. The force inside him felt as if it were yanking him forward uncontrollably. His eyes squeezed shut as he felt a tremendous rushing sensation, legs running on nothing, wind and ice tearing at him.


He was still screaming in his mind when he crashed into the side of a wooden shack. Pain struck his head and he stepped back, blood trickling down his forehead. It was a small wooden hideout, and he was in the middle of a forest of dead trees and dead leaves. He looked to the sky and saw clouds moving in what must have been an enormous vortex, such that he only saw a single edge of it. Confusion and chaos reigned in William's mind. A low growl from the forest interrupted his thoughts with renewed terror. He stopped thinking and bolted, desperately. He turned around a tree and felt as if though he'd broken through an invisible wall of ice.


He crashed down onto the hood of a parked white car, which began blaring its alarms loudly. He felt numb all over, as if every muscle in his body had fallen asleep.

What just happened? He thought, and it hurt to think. He quickly tumbled off the car hood and onto the pavement. He could breath again, he felt light. People in suits and dresses were staring at him. He was on a downward sloped street in the middle of a city he didn't recognize. The sun was shining. There wasn't a cloud in sight. He got up, stumbling, and managed to wander into the middle of a street while frantically looking around him when a girl screamed, piercing his stupor.

"LOOK OUT FOR THAT CAR!"

William James jerked out of his confusion for just a moment, long enough to see there was a red sports car coming down the street, and he'd stumbled right into its path. It was too late, he was going to be hit. He closed his eyes and held his arms up, bracing. He felt the pulsing beat within him suddenly start up again, every beat painful, strained.

A few long moments later, and William wondered why the car hadn't hit him yet. It was hard to open his eyes, but he worked them to a squint. The car was still there. It was moving rather slowly. The driver was caught in slow motion, frantically braking at a snail's pace. He tried to lower his arms, but it felt as if though the air was made of iron. He tried to strain towards the side, to move his body. The beating inside of him was hurting. It was slow, but surely his limbs were moving through the air. But the car was getting closer.

He thought to himself he could perhaps get out of the way in time, but the more he strained, the more it seemed as if though he could only move as fast as it did. He would never make it in time. He had the idea to jump instead, reckoning maybe he'd land on top of the car's hood. He tensed his knees, prepared to jump.. and all at once the beating inside him gave out with the most intense feeling of relief. The car braked straight underneath him as his jump gave him inches to spare from the hood, and he managed to land on his feet. He didn't manage to stay there, immediately falling backwards onto the street, landing on his rear.

A young lady ran up to him and quickly grabbed his arm, dragging him off the road, looking at his bleeding head wound. She was talking to him, maybe yelling at him. He couldn't really hear her. He stumbled to the curve and retched, pressed against the car he'd landed on. Someone was pulling him away, and he let himself be guided through a door and into a house. He managed to make it to a couch before he collapsed, and the last thing William James saw was the face of a girl looking concerned into his eyes, speaking, probably asking questions. He closed his eyes and let sweet darkness take him.

The Stormsidi (Chapter Three) (UNFINISHED)

She was falling, very slowly, through a thick fog. It was so thick, it felt like great ethereal pillows, giving way as she silently passed through them on some great descent. All was dark, and sensations played upon her skin like distant memories. She was vaguely aware of things nearby, watching her.

There was a sound that echoed, so faint. A ripple that pushed through the fog and through her body. It seemed to dissipate the fog, scatter it. Another sound. She felt at once as if though she was rising through water that had no temperature or taste.

Her eyelids opened a sliver, and looked around weakly. Everything was blurry and distant, and seemed to be larger than it was in the seeming of distance. She was in a private bedchamber, with walls of clean marble and an open window letting in the light. There were white curtains around the bed. Someone was sitting on the bed beside her, wrapping a bandage around her stomach. Her face was like an angel, light shining around it. The Princess. She saw the girl's eyes moving, her face tightened, and she spoke quietly.

"Don't move. You need to rest. Don't try to get out of this bed." Her voice was soft, but iron. Her face lightened. "You've been hurt very badly, and your body needs time to heal before you can move." She finished tucking a bandage in. "Can you tell me your name?"

The girl could say nothing, and exhaled very softly. She did not respond to the question. Her eyes looked afraid. The Princess looked slightly annoyed. "Do you remember what happened?" The girl shook her head. "...do you know who you are?" The girl shook her head again. The Princess made a concerned face and sighed. "Can you speak..?" The girl shook her head. "Not surprising, given your wounds.. It could be something in your head, or.. something might damaged."

There were bandages all over her body, the girl realized. Her legs, arms, chest. Her neck burned. There were bandages on her throat. Everything hurt. She wanted to go back to sleep and fog, where everything didn't hurt quite so much. Something must have shown in her face, for the Princess smiled faintly. "It's alright. I'm the Princess of the Valraedi. We've got my personal doctors here. You don't need to be afraid."

The girl exhaled softly, and her eyes began to lose focus. "My name is Aerika.." The Princess quietly said. The girl's eyes focused on the Princess' face. It was a very pretty name, the girl thought. Her hand slowly rose up and touched Aerika's face with her fingers, and then she fell back into the fog.


Over the next four days, the girl drifted in and out of conciousness, unsure of her own realness and that of the world around her. She could see people and places. An angry man, yelling at someone she couldn't see. A man in an officer's uniform, grabbing her shoulder. A man with salt and pepper hair, replacing her bandages. An empty, cold apartment. A young maid, spooning her things that tasted disgusting.

On the fifthy day, she was awake for long enough and strong enough to sit upright. She was brought food on a silver tray. Two bowls of hot soups, bread. It was warm, and it made her feel more real. Her body ached less, but her throat hurt as much as it ever did. She cried, and she wasn't sure why. It just hurt. When she was done crying and eating, the maid returned with a napkin and dabbed her face gently.

"Was it good?" The young maid asked. The girl nodded her head. "Is there anything you'd like to request? We can make most things."

The girl thought about food and recipes. Did she know recipes? She felt like she did. Lumps of meats and distant smells called to her. Were they memories? She thought of eggs. She wanted eggs. She opened her mouth, but the sound caught in her throat and nothing came out. It hurt very much, and she coughed hard.

"Are you alright?" The maid asked. The girl touched her throat. Concern turned to pity on the maid's face, and she patted the girl's leg. "Oh, I remember now. You can't talk. That's perfectly alright. Well, don't worry. Our chefs can make anything taste wonderful. You just rest." She picked up the tray and turned away from the girl.

Eggs, she thought. I wanted eggs. She felt very sad and tired again. Her eyes closed, and she rested a while. She could feel the fog rolling in, but it was so much weaker this time. It was not claiming her. Not just yet. She did not feel cold. She only felt the pillow under her back, the thick purple sheets on her skin. She allowed herself to simply exist for a while.

Her reverie was broken by the sound of a door opening. It was the salt and peppered man. Now that she was awake, she could see him in focus. He wore a gray suit, white gloves. He walked beside her bed and sat in a nearby chair.

"You are awake." He stated. "That is good. We were growing worried about you." He watched her for a while, as if he thought she might start speaking. He had gravity to him. "Can you understand me?"

She nodded slightly.

"Good. Good.. We have a lot to talk about. Don't worry-" He rose a hand, shaking his head. "-we'll start slow. Just the important things for now. My name is.. well, you may call me King. I am Aerika's personal servant. You were very badly hurt a few days ago. You're very lucky. We have the greatest healers in the kingdom on our staff, and even they had trouble with some of your wounds. Some of them.. may never properly heal." He eyed the girl's throat bandages. "If anyone but Aerika had happened upon you that night, you'd be dead right now. Very lucky."

As the girl processed this, the man stood up and walked beside the bed. "Don't worry. You do not owe us anything. Aerika is.. very kind, isn't she?" He smiled, looking off wistfully. "As her mother was. She's tasked us to help you recover totally, and I'm going to see to it. Do you understand?" The girl nodded, but faintly. The fog was rolling in. "You can trust us.." His voice echoed until it was distant, and then dissapeared.


A few days and several warm and eggless meals later, she was brought a thin white gown. It felt good to have something on her skin besides bandages, though those remained underneath. It was time to try moving around. They peeled back the covers and helped her swing her bare feet off the side of the bed. She slid off and onto her feet, and swung her arms wildly until she was caught. With the help of the maid and the servant, she managed to stay upright.

Tingles shot up her legs. She was wobbly, and for her first dozen steps, those two were beside her, waiting to catch her if she fell. She was like a child learning to walk. Thought it was hard at first, she quickly felt embarassed it had ever been hard at all. Walking. Of course she could walk. She wiggled her toes, and jumped in place. Upon the impact, she almost collapsed, but King was there to catch her.

"Careful, now. Don't aggravate the wounds. You're still healing. Just focus on doing normal activities." He said gently, pulling her to her feet until she could stand on her own again. It made sense to the girl. She wanted to see her injuries. She looked at the doors in the room with a focused, curious face. "What is it?"

The girl clenched and unclenched her thighs, making a nervous face. "Oh, you need to.. the bathroom's right over here. I'll let you have privacy, but if I hear anything, I'm coming in, understood?" The girl nodded, and walked inside.

The bathroom was as rich as the bedroom. Marble tiles, a large shower-bath. She took care of her business, washed her hands, and was startled by her reflection in the mirror.

Is that really me? She wondered. The girl in the mirror was pale with nearly white hair. She pulled a lock of hair in front of her face. She'd never really thought to look at it until now. Behind the hair, she focused on her own eyes. They were grey, light silver. Why did she look like this? She wasn't normal, she considered. She looked like a doll left unpainted. Her hand touched her own face, and the girl in the mirror did the same. She was real. This was real. She touched the mirror, fingertips meeting.

She looked bruised in places, especially where bandages used to be. Light scars, faint pains. There was a strange sense of longing in her as she looked at herself. A far-off pang in her heart and head. How could she look like this? She lowered her hand, and was surprised to see the Princess where her hand had been covering up the space behind her. The girl whirled around, embarassed at being caught in the act of self-inspection.

"Hahah, I'm sorry for startling you! I was coming to visit and they said you'd been in here a while. I thought I'd check up on you. How do you feel?" Aerika asked. The girl smiled in response. "Better?" She nodded. "You still can't speak, can you?" The girl looked taken aback, and looked at the floor. She gently touched the bandages and rubbed her throat.

Aerika touched the girl's shoulder and squeezed it. "Don't lose hope. It was the worst wound.. it'll take some time to fully heal. Stay confident, alright?" The girl looked up at her. She wanted to thank her, to thank her for saving her life, for her kindness. The girl leaned forward and hugged Aerika, surprising the Princess. After a moment of consideration, and a quick glance at the bathroom door, she returned the hug with a gentleness, and patted the girl's head. The girl cried quietly, and Aerika stayed with her until she stopped.

The Stormsidi (Chapter Two)

Something went wrong. An explosion of light. Men screaming, the popping of bullets. Someone dropped against the ground.

The silhouette of a girl lay against a cement wall, raining pounding. There was pain in every limb. Everything hurt. Her throat burned the fiercest. Flashes of light pushed across a blurry vision. Feeling. She could feel cold, wet cobblestone underneath. The dark walls stretched upwards into the sky. Everything hurt. Someone was kneeling over her, touching her, trying to save her.

She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, like a slow, gaunt drum. Her eyes followed blood on the ground. Was that her blood, she wondered? Everything felt so small, cold and weak. She was covered in so much red. Her hand was laying in the blood. It was small and pale. Why was it so small and pale? Her fingers were so thin.

She rose her hand and stared at it. Someone took her hand and held it firmly. They were speaking. Their hand was warm, and the warmth spread through the girl's body, but it only made the reality clearer in the contrast.

She was dying in a dark alleyway, rain pounding on her face from an unfeeling sky. SOmeone's face was above her, trying to talk to her. She could hear nothing. There was another body beside her. A knife was in its chest. Bullet holes, too. The eyes empty of life. Staring at her.

The woman was bleeding too. No, not the woman, the girl thought. The princess. How did she know that? She was bleeding badly, and holding her hand. She was speaking, but the girl could not hear. She is so young and pretty, the girl thought. She found herself hoping that the girl did not die. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. They were talking, but she could not hear them.

The rain washed over her face and turned the world to black.

The Stormsidi (Chapter One)

Beep beep beep beep BEEP BEEP BEEP. The alarm grew in intensity and pitch, blinking violet strobe lights. An award for greatness in the service sat next to a picture of a young woman. A man stirred in his bed, a cold bed without sheets or pillows, and rose as if from the grave. He stumbled to the window, where the rain pounded on the glass, and the distant thunder drowned out the beeping. Exhausted, crystal blue eyes searched through the torrent for meaning or beauty.

The Vandraedi was a city of stone and steel, built with cobblestone and paved with cement. A city of ancestors, slowly being replaced in the foundations by the advent of the steel and smoke. Beauty slowly being replaced by efficiency. It was built on low hills, and slanted streets were lined with simple stores, open doors and stalls. A river ran through it. Towers stood above it with dark windows and concrete barriers.

The man put on dark clothes in the dim light of his apartment. It was scant, with few luxuries. A newly bought couch he hadn't used yet. A fridge stocked with enough food to last him a week. He pulled on a dark leather overcoat and wrapped it around him tight, slid on a pair of shades, and pulled open the door. A letter fluttered to the ground, having been wedged into the door. He knelt and ran his fingers over the edge, peeling it open. Another notice that his apartment was going to be claimed and auctioned shortly if he didn't make payment. He hadn't paid in a year. He didn't need to. He knew people. People he was going to see right now. On the back of the paper was a series of letters and numbers. It was a code that only he and one other person knew. He stuffed the letter into his pocket and walked out, closing the door behind him, unlocked.

He took back alleyways and walked along the grass path that bordered the river. Black and gray umbrellas walked past him. Stony faces and eyes cast down- only those with business outside would be outside on a day like this. A vendor was selling umbrellas, but he walked past it. He didn't ever admit to needing things.

He found his way to a stone bridge over the river and stood under it, pulling out a wet smoke for a quick break. When he was sure no one was looking, he ducked into an open drain pipe.


Men in leather coats patrolled the underground bunker, machine guns at the ready. More ran here and there, rushing into the dark tunnels. The dark man pushed his way past those, past iron bars and swinging lights towards an underground warehouse. Guards held him up outside the door and demanded his identity- he rose his rain-stained head and glared at them, and, recognizing him, they let him pass.

Boxes of weapons, rations, and papers. Maps of the city lay rolled up loosely against the walls, while a larger map was pinned open and marked. Young men and women talked quietly in the shadow of ammunitions. His arrival quieted them. Some stared, others turned away and in hushed voices hurried away. There was a man with bright hair and eyes in the middle of the room, going over a map with an aged advisor beside him, nodding and gesturing. The younger man was speaking.

"..and if we take Kaupstef Square, we'll have good access to the shops and be able to protect them. Once they're under our protection the economy should level out, but- Ah, you've arrived." The men turned to the dark man. The older man looked nervously to the younger man. "Our informant! This is Ein and I am Zwei. Of this sector, anyways. We got your message from the middleman. You're early! Always liked that about you. Sleep well? Ah, don't shrug at me. I've seen your place. Don't know how you manage to keep it that cold, with the wages you get from the Palace AND what we pay you." The younger man took a breath. "Speaking of which.. said you had something important?"

The man nodded, and walked forward to the map between the two. He pressed a finger wetly to an intersection, an alleyway in the middle of a market square.

"The royal target will be passing through here. Ten o'clock. They're switching safecastles. That's all I know."

The bright-eyed man stared at the location, then took a marker and drew a quick red circle around where the man's wet fingerprint was laid. He placed his hands on the table, studying the map quickly and intently. "...damn. It's not much.. but it's more than we had to start." He turned to stare hard at the dark man. "You sure about this? She's going to be there?.. alright. You there!" He called out to another man. "Go send a messenger to the Homekastal. Tell Valdyr we've got a location on her tonight at ten." The man saluted and ran out.

He began to turn and pace back and forth. "Alright. I don't think we have time to gather the men for a full assault. They'll be too well guarded. Even if we set a trap.. Damnit. Valdyr's going to let me have it if I let a chance like this slip through my fingers." He stopped, tapping his chin with his fist. "Unless.. you. Our inside man.." Zwei turned to look at the dark man. "That operation a month ago. You took down the Chief of Security effortlessly. Made us look like amateurs. Think you'd be able to pull off an assassination attempt on the Princess herself?"

"..I'd die before I got close enough."

"Yes, that'd be a problem. Maybe we can GET you close enough. What if we set a trap.. for the royal target?"

"What do you have in mind?"

"It's easy. We stage an attack, pretend we're fighting you. You're in deep with them, they think you're one of theirs. They reach this spot, they see you fighting us, they'll react. Fight with you or try to rescue you. They won't abandon you to us. They'll trust you. Maybe not. Maybe let you get close enough to kill her. Maybe not- but if they take you with them, you can keep doing your work for us, but closer to the heart of our enemy than ever before. It's a victory for us either way."

The blue-eyed man looked hesitant, but overall approving. The older man, Ein, spoke. "There's a small flaw in your plan, Captain."

"Yes?"

"The Princess doesn't like men like him. Dark men... she's perceptive. She'll see what he is when she sees him. Just like Valdyr. Maybe she won't know what exactly, but she won't trust him."

Zwei frowned. "Hrm. She shares that, does she? Don't think she'd trust him if it was just him fighting alone?" He turned to the dark man, an appraising look on his face. "Then we sweeten the deal. Change the game." The dark man's face  rose inquisitively. "I've got a ..stage trick, you could say. And a doll."

"What? That's- highly- Where did you get-" Ein sputtered.

"We'll discuss that later. But I think this is an opportunity. A rare opportunity.. Listen, here's the plan. This bit of magic's a bit complicated, so you've got to follow the directions precisely. You're going to take the doll with you."

"I see where this is going. Sweetening the pot.."  A group had begun to gather around them. They smelled the blood in the air, the energy gathering.

"Exactly. Maybe she wouldn't trust you- but.. this might tip her over. You'll go in with the doll. Maybe give her a good stab, make her look wounded. Perform a bit of a stage magic just before the target gets there. She'll scream a bit. And the Princess' heart is just going to break. She'll trust you... and we win." The captain grinned. It was the grin of a cat, content with itself. "It's all down to you.. my friend." He placed a hand on the man's shoulder. "Are you up to it?"

His eyes narrowed. Slowly, he looked to the older man, who shrugged and murmured, "It's a good plan.." The dark man nodded. Excitement began to build in the people around them.

"Then today, the peoples of the Vandraedi are about to take a great step closer to true freedom. Today, my friend, the revolution draws the knife close to the heart of oppression. Victory is at hand!" There was cheering. The dark man did not cheer. He did, however, offer an insincere smile. Talk broke out in the group, and murmurs of premature celebration. "Go and prepare. We'll set the operation time to be when the sun falls.. see us then for the extras."

As the dark man turned and began to walk away, the older man leaned in close to the Captain. "And the doll..?"

"Ah.. heh." The captain merely smiled as the man walked away. "Let us talk details, now, you and I. We need to make this trap as convincing as possible.. and I have just the idea."


A middle aged man in a crisp officer's uniform was leaning against the wall as the blue-eyed man approached the doorway out. "Leaving so soon?"

"...yeah. Need to get things ready. Need weapons.. and my work uniform."

"You didn't mention when you wanted a meeting set up that it was somnething of this caliber." The middle aged man's eyes were hard, staring through him. "You should reconsider your involvement in this."

"I can handle myself, Bru."

The man was no longer leaning, and pressed forward. "I know. Just.. you're going after the Princess. You know this is a suicide mission, right? What are you trying to prove by doing this?"

"..I'm not trying to prove anything." He looked uncomfortable.

"Okay. Than why are you doing it? You're just an informant. Let someone else handle this."

"I'm THE informant. You heard him. I'm the man for this job. No one can do this but me."

"I heard him.. and I don't think that's what he said." The other man sighed and turned to continue, but Bru pressed a hand onto his shoulder. "Listen to me! Don't do this. You can still get out. Trust me." The man brushed his hand off and pushed onwards. "Why won't you trust me?" Bru spoke to the man's back.

The man looked back. "You know I don't trust, Bru."

"You're not alone in this, M-"

"Don't." There was a long moment of silence between the two. "I want this."

"You seek death."

"We're acquainted." The man walked away.

White crystal dreams

The city is dark and rainy. I am a man in a dark trenchcoat, with dark blonde hair and perfect blue eyes. I am a spy in the resistance of a city-state kingdom in revolt. Men in leather jackets and machine guns rush past me as I spoke with a man. There is a plan to kill the Princess of the city. I know where she's going to be. We're not going to kill her at that spot- too well guarded. But there is a plan to infiltrate. To injure me and pretend I have been attacked by the resistance as they come upon me. I am a good spy, I think, and they will think I have merely been attacked. With any luck, the Princess will take me with her to her new safecastle and I will be able to work from the inside out as never before. There is a problem- the Princess does not like men like me. It's possible I might simply be sent elsewhere.

We devise a plan to use a spell or device to physically transform me, and at the same time use a duplicate. The duplicate will be mindless- I'm going to take an injury and then kill it. Theofore, the Princess will see that I have been attacked by a dark-looking man and am injured, and hopefully this will enhance my chances.

Something goes wrong.

I'm not entirely sure what happened. Maybe one of the spells was cast wrong, or someone interfered. I'm in pain. Everything hurts. My throat burns. The wet, cold cobblestone beneath me. It's dark. But I can see through bleary eyes,  the Princess is kneeling over me, trying to save me. I'm bleeding badly. I'm a young girl. My hand is small and pale. I hold it up to stare at it. Someone takes it and holds it. Their hand is warm and the warmth spreads through me, but it only makes everything out clearer in the contrast. I'm dying in the rain in the dark alleyway. The dark walls stretch upwards into the sky. My broken body lies beside me. A knife is in its chest. My eyes are empty of life, staring at me. The princess is bleeding. She is young and pretty. I find myself hoping that she doesn't die. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. They are talking, but I cannot hear them. I black out.

I wake up in a private chamber of a safecastle. Someone is attending to me. Talking to me. I can hear her. My eyes blink open. It's the princess. She's changing my bandages. She tells me to stay down on the bed. She asks me what my name is, but I can't tell her anything. I don't say anything. I'm not sure I know what my name is. She asks me if I remember what happened, and I shake my head. She asks me if I know who I am, and I shake my head. She asks me if I can speak.. and I shake my head. There are bandages on my throat. It's possible something was damaged, possible it's mental trauma. No one's sure. She says her name is Valerie. I think it's a very pretty name, and I touch her face before I collapse into unconciousness again.

People help me. There is a man, especially. A butler, a bodyguard. An old man with tremendous gravitas but incredible gentleness. I am fed and clothed in white clothing. It is a few days before I can get out of the bed, and I manage to walk into the bathroom. I am pale, nearly white-haired with light silver eyes. I am definitely not normal. I look like an unprepared doll that someone forgot to colour. I touch my face, and then the mirror. I have bandages over my neck and all over my abdomen. There is still some pain. A kind of distant pain, in my heart and head. When I lower my hand, the princess is there. She asks me how I feel, and I smile. She asks if I feel better, and I nod. She says that I still can't speak, and I touch my throat and I suppose I look sad, because she touches my shoulder and tells me to remain confident. I don't have any way to communicate my thankfulness, so I hug her. She is surprised, but she hugs back gently.

I don't see much of her as I recover.  Not being able to talk is a blessing and a handicap. Not many people seem able to understand me, but they enjoy my facial expressions. Without my memories or former personality to guide me, my appearance and my new freedom allows me to act very gentle and "cute", and people seem to take a liking to me. It is a very free feeling, to be able to act as I want, to not speak and simply express things. They speak to me freely. The butler especially spends a great deal of time around me, keeping me moving and helping me recover. He asks me questions now and then, if I know what happened- but the answer is always no. I am no longer sure I DO know what happened. The memories are there, but hazy. And hazier each day.

I am kept within a specific portion of the safecastle, unable to explore beyond the boundaries. It is not so bad. I am brought warm food, I am allowed to sleep in the private chambers, and there is a courtyard outside that is always wet with dew. I make friends with the lowly people as best as I can. It is a new life. A good life.

One stormy night, as lightning flashes outside the stone windows, I am asked to come to the chambers of Valerie. I no longer wear bandages around my neck, and she touches the skin curiously. There is a faded scar, pale and sharp. She asks me to try to speak, and I manage some weak sounds, but it is painful and I stop. She is upset that I'm hurt and worries that my trying may have aggravated the wound. I feel very light headed and woozy, and I cough up blood. Everything goes slightly blurry. I am guided into her bed and allowed to remain there. It is an enormous bed. She talks to me as the lightning flashes, about things. She is worried, and hurt. There are forces beyond her control in the world and she cannot protect everyone. She wishes she was stronger and loved by her people. I take her hand and hold it a while. She smiles at me and thanks me. I fall asleep.

When it is morning, I pull my eyes open. The princess is practicing some kind of martial art in the bedchambers, in her pink and blue nightgown, with bandages on her hands. It is a strange sight. She thrusts her fists forward, practices stances. I get up slowly in my white nightgown and begin to mimic her. She is pleasantly surprised and slows her movements down so I can learn them. We practice in silence, her teaching me through example, me learning through mimicry. When we are done, the butler is there. Somehow he has entered without my knowing it. She is satisfied and happy. He guides me back to my chambers.

I practice alone the next day, and I do not see her. I do wish to practice with her again, but her chamber is guarded from the outside at all times, and even I am not allowed near. In the dark of the night, a man appears. A security chief, or something of similiar rank. He is in charge of protecting the Princess. He does not like me. He suspects something. He asks me questions I cannot answer, and I do not answer. He is not like the others- he presses me when I cannot answer. I shake my head no, and he asks why. The only thing stopping him from being more aggressive, I think, is the fact the wound on my neck is visible- it's possible I might genuinely be being silent because I cannot speak. He, however, thinks I can speak and choose not to.

He grabs my shoulder. It hurts. I can't protect myself against him. The butler- Gerald is his name- appears as if from nowhere. He doesn't say anything, but is simply standing behind the man where he once was not. The man notices he's there without looking, and lets me go. Gerald firmly states that I cannot speak, and cannot answer his questions. The man leaves without saying anything, sighing. Gerald gently calms me down and tells me if I could speak it would mean everything to a lot of people. The despondent look on my face moves him and he gently hugs me, then leaves me.

I cannot sleep for the rest of the night, and I walk outside as the sun rises. I begin to practice the martial arts again, barefoot in the dew. Although I cannot see it, I know that Valerie is practicing it in her room. Gerald quietly remarks to her that I am practicing outside, although he has not looked out the window. Valerie looks, and sees me. She is touched that I have continued to try to practice despite not being able to do so with her. She calls out "Ariel!" (for she has named me after a fairytale, in leiu of my having my own name) and waves, and I wave in turn.

She comes down to join me, and we practice together again. The sun rises, and we are silhouettes.

From this point on, I spend a greater amount of time with the Princess. I am allowed further access to the safecastle, and I can even walk with a guard into the open streets during the day if I so wish. I help clean and I take care of the garden and water. However, more importantly, I take care of the Princess. I am considered a handmaiden and more or less treated as one. There some who do not like me, and many who do not understand me. But most are fascinated, and at least enchanted.

Valerie has a training regimen. She is learning close combat fighting. There is an obstacle course she is being commanded to run by Gerald, one day. I am spying on them, and when she begins, I run down to Gerald and past him. I leap onto the climbing tower and begin to climb as well. Gerald, upon seeing me, only laughs. Valerie as well is happy and is filled with competitive spirit with me on her tail. She wins easily with time to spare, and comes to watch me as I topple off a tightrope into a muddy lake below. There is laughing, and she comes to help me out. I pull her in instead and there is much playful wrestling.

I venture into town to purchase sweets and bread, once. I am also being allowed to buy new clothing of my own. While walking, I run into a man in dark leather clothing. He bumps into me and apologizes, then stares at me as I stumble by. He knows me. I was supposed to do something. I stare back at him like a doe in headlights. His gaze is angry and intense. I turn around and I see an alleyway. A dark alleyway, with walls going up forever. It is raining and I am bleeding. I collapse, and must be carried back.

When I wake, there is an argument being held. Being carried back in broad daylight was very bad for stealth. I am accused, and being defended. In the end, the accuser, the security chief simply walks away from the argument. I open my eyes and look questioningly at Valerie, who sighs. She tells me not to worry about it- that she trusts me, and that it is her say what will happen to me. She touches my face and moves my hair away. She asks me what happened.

I exhale and touch my eyes, then the bed. My eyes are cast upwards, and then I reach out and close my eyes. She takes my hand and holds it warmly. She knows that I relived that moment of death. She knows I am hurting, and she stays with me as much as she can during the day. Gerald watches over me when she is not there. He talks to me- tells me about Valerie. Some things she's already told me and he doesn't know. Some things are about himself. He is an uncle, and would be King. Possibly IS the ruling king, since Valerie is not of age to be Queen, but the reality is that she gives the shots and he works behind the scenes.

I want to know why they trust me. Why? I do not deserve that trust. A part of me knows that I have betrayed them since before we ever met. I don't know how, but I know I have done wrong. It is hard to make things connect. The return of the dark man pulled stitches across the borders of my memories-pulling a forgotten, dark life back into the light.

Life returns to normal once again. Valerie and I practice much more often now, and more physically. Our morning training often involves repetitious exchanges of stances and counter-stances, without hitting. We are taught judo and train with each other. At one point our spar dissolves into a light wrestling match and I somehow end up straddling her, and Gerald tells me to go for a grapple. I sort of lower myself onto her and gently hug her, and there is a quiet moment of "awwww" from the people watching. She is smiling. Then she flips me onto my back and counter straddles me, and there is a tense moment. She leans down and presses lightly against me. I tie my hands around her neck and smile at her. For a few seconds, she and I are the only people in the room. Her eyes are bright and blue and beautiful. She is happy. We remember people are watching and the training ends for the day.

There is a big dinner to be held. I am to be formally introduced to a lot of important people as a new handmaiden and bodyguard to the Princess. I help make food until it is time for me to be introduced, and then I come out from behind a curtain. I am wearing a very beautiful dress and I am barefoot. People are amused and curious about me. Many people try to talk to me, but food is called before a painful scene of my inability to respond is forced. The princess has called for food to head off this. As we are seated, I see a flash of a dark man in the kitchen doorway. He is dressed as a chef. Is it me? No. I almost seize up, but I manage to avoid causing a scene. Our food is served, I don't touch it. Valerie touches my thigh underneath the table and looks at me concerned. I grab her arm and look at the food and shake my head vigorously. There is fear and panic on my face.

She knows what I am afraid of. What I know. The food is poisoned! Or drugged. She asks me in a hushed whisper, and I nod. She looks stricken. There are sounds of groans and panic from the far end of the table. She'd already snuck a bite in before they were served. She begins to drift and I catch her before she collapses. Gerald, too, is stumbling and trying to remain awake, but the drugs in the f ood are too powerful for even him, and he is forced to his knees, unable to act.

Men rise from the tables. There is sound of fighting in the distance. The safecastle is being attacked. The few people who have not taken their food yet are quickly forced at gunpoint to have a few bites. All except me. The dark man in leather walks out of the kitchen with more men. Tables are thrown aside. I am alone before them. I take a protective stance in front of Valerie.

I am to be congratulated. They weren't sure I was still with them after what happened, but my scene on the street was a perfect way to keep my cover and allow them to track the guard back to the safecastle, knowing I was with the Princess. Now it was time for me to step aside. I can say nothing. He gauges my reaction, and says a word. A name. I am clearly effected and relax my stance, taking a step forward in a sort of daze. My hair darkens, and my eyes close. When I open them, they are blue. There is a power within me. It cries for a voice.

I deny it. My eyes turn back to silver, and I resume my protective stance. The man is unhappy, but appears to genuinely care and show concern. I am not reacting the way I should. He knows something is wrong. He orders his men to put down their guns and capture me. They try to melee me, but I use my newfound martial arts to knock them around. They grow frustrated, brutal. I take hits. The man barks at them to not use force, but time grows pressing. There is blood on the floor. A man tries to grab the princess desperately, but I kick him away. He falls to floor screaming.

They have no more time. The man in charge levels his gun at me and orders me to step aside. I shake my head silently, the world blurry. There is a flash of gunfire. I am bleeding again. I collapse on the floor. There is blood spreading before me.

Once more, I wake up in a bed, but only briefly. Gerald is there. A man steps into the room with a force of men and orders me to be removed from the bed and taken with him. There is shouting and yelling, but it is done and I am dragged slowly away and down.

I am in a cell. I am wounded and in pain. I curl up in a corner, legs against my chest, arms around my legs. I don't know what's going on and I'm afraid and hurt.

Valerie is outside the cell. She is distant-sounding. The Security chief has reason to believe I am a spy and traitor. I shake my head vigorously. She wants to believe me. I know she does, and she says so. But the chief has evidence. I cannot defend myself. She doesn't want to believe.. but she can't do anything. Her voice is quiet and cold. She feels betrayed. She is considering that I might be a lie. In my heart, I know she may be right. I can only silently begin to cry. She turns and begins to walk away. There is a force within me that screams.

I cry out. "Valerie!" My voice is so clear. So pained. She stops in her tracks. I can see a force rolling through her body, trembling. Ariel?, she asks.

I drop to my knees, clutching my throat, holding onto the bars. Fire surges through my body. Pain. I can't stand it. Valerie is there, kneeling with me, touching my face through the bars. She is crying. My eyes are going cold and distant. Ariel, she says. Stay with me. Stay with me. I cannot. I fall onto my side on the cold floor of the cell.

She orders me released immediately. The guard protests. There is fire in her voice that I have never heard before. The guard cowers and obeys. She picks me up herself and carries me back to a bed herself. The chief barges in, angrier than he has ever been before.  He calls her stupid and naive. I am a fool. They don't know what happened, they have people claiming I am a spy, and have only my SILENCE to prove my innocence.

Gerald appears from the doorway, looking old. He quietly says that he was awake to see what happened himself. He says that I was not simply shot when I was no longer useful. I had been spoken to, given the chance to walk away.

Triumph reigned in the chief's face, and despair began to creep into Valerie's eyes.

Gerald took a deep breath, and told them that I had chosen to protect the princess despite facing down a dozen guns. That I had fought and fought, sacrificing my chance at life to protect her, until one of them had shot me, and it was my efforts that delayed them enough until the guards could arrive. My sacrifice saved the princess, and I lay dying in the bed for it, and the Chief would not speak another word of my loyalty if he wanted to ever speak again.

The Chief had nothing to say to that, and only turned and left the room with a shocked expression on his face. Shock and fear, in such an angry, decisive man.

Ariel, she said. She held my hand. I looked upon her face. She gently leaned forward and kissed me on the lips, and then held me. I held her in turn. For now, everything was going to be okay. She pulled away to smile at me, and then gasped.

One of my eyes was a clear blue.