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The first draft of the first few chapters of a fantasy novel i have been developing. |
Prologue You know when you have entered The Town. Every window and door slams shut as you walk by and curtains twitch, moved by invisible hands while unseen faces breathe on the panes leaving only condensation. You know that they watch you and you begin to sweat. Thick drops pearl on your brow and gather in the folds of your clothes, your breathing becomes short and quick and you feel dizzy. Can you sense that person behind you whispering in the alley way? Was that a footstep knocking on the ground? You begin to walk faster until you realise that you are alone and only your shadow has followed you. Somehow this thought is worse that the first. Chapter one King Ridon spat blood onto the ground ‘Damn religion’ he thought as he hawked up another spittoon and brutally catapulted it from his stained mouth onto the dirt floor ‘damn them all’. He watched as his manservant rubbed out the stains of dysentery from his dented armour in a barrel of sand outside the tent, he smiled to himself as he watched his servant carefully keep his expression neutral as the rivulets of brown liquid dropped off the shiny metal. Religion had been the catalyst for a war a long time coming, that stupid tribe from the mountains had come down to preach equality in the cities the peasants had loved them and the nobility had taken it upon themselves to get rid of them. You can’t have over mighty peasants; they need to know their place. Religion was expressly for those who could pay enough to have one. When the tribe had been all but massacred and the remaining fled back to the hills, the nobility had turned their murderous, inbred attentions to the monarchy, the knew they were powerful and they thought they could win, they blamed it on the rebellious peasants but the king knew they had just been waiting for their chance. King Ridon spat again onto the dirt floor, ‘bloody peasants’ he thought ‘bloody aristocrats’. He knew he had to win the next battle, he knew that he would be dead by the time it was over, either from the battle or the various illnesses that were slowly ravaging his body, and he knew that his son would never be able to hack it. He thought of his son, with his milky pale, sickly face and thin limbs; he was no kind of leader, he wouldn’t know one end of a sword until there was one embedded in him. ‘No’ he thought ‘I have to win’. Miles away from the kings dejected thoughts something was stirring from a long and painful sleep. It was on the site of one of the battles, rotting flesh and bone covered the land decaying in the hot weather, there were depressed and ragged banners fluttering in the light breeze, a few low moans of the dying and the cackling gossip of a few old women scavenging form the dead. It could smell the sweet scent of decay as it writhed away from its dreams; it knew the time had come. One of the women, a hag with a brown shawl covering her face and black tatters for clothes was pawing through the pockets of a dead officer, unbeknownst to her he was a young nobleman, a prince no less; she pulled off his rings with her teeth and spat them into her weather-beaten palm, as she looked them over she saw something move out of the corner of her eye, when she turned her head she saw something that made her skin crawl and her heart stopped beating, she opened her mouth to scream but could only utter a guttural noise from her throat, she stood transfixed in horror then she heard a low deep breath in her ear. When the other women found her it was too late, she lay with her hands stretched upwards towards the sun, deep red blood all over her face and arms, her eyes were missing and her face was contorted into a scream of terror. The rings she had been clutching had disappeared and the body of the dead boy had gone too. No one went near the field again. No one knew where he had come from; they had all seen him die. His officers knew there was something not quite right, they knew him and he wasn’t behaving like himself. At first they had all rejoiced to see him, they thought they had left him for dead. He had, had trouble forming words at first but they had put this down to shock, it had been his first battle and he was only eighteen but now they were not quite sure, there was a deep, subtle resonance in his voice that hadn’t been there before. There was his appearance too; he was larger, it was almost like his skin was stretched slightly in places, there was something odd about his outline, it didn’t seem to fit his surroundings properly, he seemed to merge into the background and there was always something cold about the air around him. However he was winning battles, he had massacred an entire army two days ago and they were marching on to face King Ridon, he was tireless, merciless and ruthless in battle. His men had watched in horror as he decapitated the prisoners of war by himself and rumours were spreading around the camp of secret torture going on at night. The smell of blood and fear always went before the men nowadays. He had changed his name as well now he was called Rath. King Ridon stepped out into the airless heat; it was getting difficult for him to move now. His men were scared and restless there was something not quite right about the sky, it was hot but there was no sun, a bad omen. They had heard rumours of what was coming, terror unimaginable, a man like no other; un-human. They had chosen to meet here, a valley between two of the highest mountains in Saxondale, the Mountain of Sorrow and the Mountain of light, Morguesa and Illuminata. The air was thick with the soldiers mounting tension; there was no sound apart from the low whinnying of the horses, the men stood huddled together. They were waiting for the storm to break. King Ridon did something then that he hadn’t done for many years, he tried to pray. He bowed he his head and then raised his hands to the sky but he didn’t know who he was praying to, the words caught in his dry mouth, he had forgotten it was that long ago, he remembered the coolness of the cloister where the monks lived who had taught him to read and write as a boy, he heard echoes of far away chanting. He never had liked the thought of fate being in another, higher powered hand and now he had even forgotten the name of who he used to call a God. He looked up and saw a figure standing high above them on Morguesa. Rath stood high above them all and chanted old and ancient prayers on Morguesa, he smiled and his sharp teeth glinted in the wind. King Ridon caught his breath in horror, ‘this is not real’ his brain screamed. The battle had hardly begun when it was over. It had been a complete massacre; King Ridon’s dismembered body was left nailed to a tree, his son had fled to be hunted and die in the wilderness, the rest of their army had been given the choice to disband and join Rath or to die very painfully, needless to say Rath’s army was twice as large as it was when it had set out that day. King Rath was the unrivalled champion of Saxondale, there were no aristocrats left to challenge him by the end of his campaign. King Ridon and the battle that day wouldn’t be remembered. It was time to play the earth to Rath’s tune. ‘This time’ Rath thought ‘it would be much better’. The people lost something that day that they didn’t even notice they had in the first place and given the choice now, six centuries later I doubt they would even want it back if they knew it was gone. Chapter two The music came blaring out of the small transistor radio. At the first deep throb of the bass the young people began to dance, great circles of them formed, each one swaying, dipping, twirling in a mass of sweaty bodies moving at one to the beat of the music. Then they started to sing, getting close to each other so they could really mean the words. Lena was one of the contorting shape of teenagers, a tall girl with a mess of dark chestnut hair, cut short but unevenly to just below her chin, wide brown eyes, so dark that they were black round the edges, a sharp nose just a little to long for her face and a sulky, rose coloured oval of a mouth. She wore a faded purple crop top and washed out jean shorts, too big for her, belted in with a strip of sacking material. She had no shoes. She danced with conviction, all of them did, they didn't get to have a good time and forget very often. There was a lot they wanted to forget. She was dancing with a huge boy with dark brown dreadlocks intertwined with multicoloured rags of cloth, at least six sizes to tall for the jeans he wore which flapped around his calves, he was bare-chested and had a battered pair of sandals taped to his feet. All the dancers were similarly dressed in old and ragged clothing and all were younger than twenty. They were all grimy, dirt ingrained in their fingernails and matted in their hair and they carried the same hungered look of deep depression and emptiness sunken into their eyes and cheeks. However the music cast its spell long enough for them to start smiling for once in their young lives, ‘after all’ thought Lena ‘it is a special occasion’. It had been the wedding of one of her closest friends, Cira, and she was so happy for her. Cira and Maxo had been engaged with the permission of Zero for two years, but bad weather and lack of food had meant other problems took priority over their wedding plans. Now with changes in fortune they had been able to celebrate. All Cira's friends had foraged on the tip for three days to find enough material for her wedding dress and Lena had, had the task of making the veil. She spent almost a month beforehand picking the brightest, cleanest pieces of material. Cira had looked stunning in her multi-coloured creation and Lena had thought she had never seen her so happy. Now Cira was expecting a baby and Lena wondered how long it would be before they finally left just like everyone else trying to make a family and not wanting to raise children in this place of dirt and darkness. Disappearing into the wilderness and never coming back. But for now everyone was content, one of them had dug out the old radio and batteries had appeared from somewhere. It wasn’t until they had been dancing for a couple of hours that Lena noticed the couple on the edge of the tip looking in. They were definitely from the other side; they were clean, the woman was small and prim, wearing the dark and plain uniform adopted by the women over there. It consisted of a long skirt and matching jacket made of plain colours like navy blue. There was no jewellery on her arms and neck like the kind that adorned most of the people on the tip, her mousy hair, turning grey at the edges, was scraped back in to a bun, her face looked pinched but well fed it obviously wasn’t a face used to doing anything other than frowning. The man was wearing the same colours as his wife, only in a the form of a long coat and trousers, he was small and older than his wife, he was thin but gathered a little middle-aged spread round his waist making him look like he was hiding a ball under his clothes, he was balding slightly. Both of them were staring intently at Cira who was dancing in the middle of the circle with her husband. Lena watched them suspiciously. It wasn’t often that any of the townsfolk were interested in them. ‘Why should they be? They left us here in the first place’. It wasn’t long before the couple started attracting the attention of others in the dancing circle. Whispers began to fly and fingers to point, it wasn’t often that people from the town actually came to see them. A group of the oldest children that made up the children’s council walked slowly over to the edge to see what they wanted. Lena could clearly see the dividing line between them; the dirt and mud on one side and the clean, black tarmac on the other, the barbed wire fence that fell in-between. Everyone had stopped dancing to watch what was going on at the edge of the tip, there was a cold silence in the air and the man and woman looked uncomfortable as two hundred steely looks came their way, in the background the music still blared but no one was listening or dancing anymore. The children at the edge slowly raised their hands in greeting to the couple and they did the same, there was a muffled gasp from everyone as they saw imprinted on the woman’s hand the image of a tree. As if in a daze Cira stepped forward and raised her palm towards the woman, as everyone looked they could see the identical mark on Cira’s palm. They were her parents. It was late when Cira came back to the camp. Lena had been waiting by the edge of the sleeping ground ever since Zero had told everyone to go to bed and leave him and Cira to talk to the couple in peace. Quietly Cira returned, her face wet with tears. She shrugged off Lena’s hug and said she didn’t want to talk. Maxo came over and gently supported her to their new tent, he brushed the tears from her cheeks and told her to sleep, and then he said night to Lena who still watched anxiously from the shadows. Feeling useless Lena sat down on one of the old cardboard boxes which marked the edge of the sleeping ground. She could feel hot tears rushing out of her and she stamped her foot in frustration, she looked down at her own palm it was pale and milky white in the moonlight and it had absolutely no marks on it whatsoever. Lena was angry that Cira could know her parents just by looking at their hands, in fact all the children here could. Cira’s parents had wanted to know her; they had wanted to see her on her wedding day. Lena would never know what that felt like to know that somewhere someone actually knew who she was. Lena looked over to the remains of the bonfire in the gathering ground. She could see the long, towering shape of Zero; he was the one who had taken them in, in the beginning, the only parent they had ever truly known. As the only adult on the tip he made all the decisions and nothing could be undertaken without his permission but everyone loved him, he was a giant of a man, with a kind face hidden underneath masses of brown hair and beard. He wore a robe of faded purple tied around his wide middle with a piece of rope. He was deep in conversation with the couple, Lena could see the woman was crying and the man had put his arm round her to comfort her, Lena guessed that Cira had told them she didn’t want anything to do with them. Lena wasn’t sure if she felt sorry for them or not, she didn’t blame Cira for resenting the fact it had taken them at least sixteen years to see her again after leaving her here. Suddenly out of the corner of her eye Lena saw a little dart of movement in the shadows at the side of the gathering ground. There was a man there. As Lena’s eyes searched in the dark she could just make out the glint of a helmet and the purple colour of a uniform. He was a soldier spy and he was looking intently at the couple by the fire. Lena knew she had to do something, everyone knew the rules, going out of the town to the tip or from the tip to the town meant death if you were caught. Too many times had Lena watched other children being hanged for stealing on market day or for going to the town fair to watch the travelling jugglers and acrobats. No one took the rules lightly and these were Cira’s parents in danger whatever she felt against them she wouldn’t want them dead. With quiet, deft movements Lena made her way round the edge of the circle to behind where the spy stood, picking up a rock from the ground she silently raised it above his head and brought it crashing down on his helmet. Dazed and surprised the spy looked round, blinked at her and then fell to the ground, a trickle of blood falling over one eye. Chapter three It hurt. It hurts so badly. This deep ache in my heart that stops my breath and makes me clench my hands and teeth. I don’t know how long I have been here; days and weeks have turned into one long, torturous period of time. They still come in to look at me though, to check I am still alive, to change my dressings and give me pills to make me sleep. I spit them out and hide them in the cracks of the floor of my cell. It’s a small space that I am made to occupy, two lengths of me and one across as far as I can measure. From what I can tell when I have enough strength to climb up at my tiny barred window and look out I’m in a sort of military prison base. There are three large square buildings squatting in the dust beneath my window. Everything is grey or white and clinical. In the distance I can see the deep, penetrating green of trees and grass, birds sometimes flutter past my window and remind me that there is a world out there without me. I listen to their chattering birdsong in the morning and it brings a tense knot of sorrow in my chest. I desperately miss the nourishing sunlight on my shoulders and watching the piercing moonlight spear the sea from the cliffs which I used to call my home, I miss the curved hills and sharp mountain sides that I used to explore with my friends, the views from the top and the sounds of our voices as we shouted in unison to the wind in the valleys. I don’t ever think of my family as I have never had one. Sometimes I hear the piercing screams of another tortured soul. I don’t know why I am here. They don’t speak to me or if they do it’s never directly at me it’s just about me but I don’t understand what they are saying. I was taken in the dead of night; I was sleeping silently warm and safe in my room at the university. It was so fast that I didn’t get a chance to scream. They make me stand in front of big lights that pierce my eyes so that it’s painful to look at anything for hours after. They drug me and operate on me and I don’t know what they are looking for or what they have taken away…or put in. No one listens when I cry or scream so I stopped. Now I just let them do what they like. I’m so weak and so tired. There’s only one thing worse than the operations and that is The Doctor. At least that’s what they call him, he comes weekly and only to visit me as far as I can tell, I hear his horse gallop in and out again immediately before and after he visits me. He takes my temperature and makes me stand with my back to the window; he gets cross and starts yelling angrily at the doctors who run the experiments on me, asking them why there has been no change? And then they start their tests to show him what they do with more vigour and pain than at any other time. To show him what they do to me they perform the operations in my cell, the inject me with serums and force powders down my mouth so the world grows hazy and The Doctor asks if I can see a light but I never answer, he talks to me about whether I feel free here? Of all places on earth am I free in this place as well? I tell him that I shall always be free. This makes him even angrier, I don’t understand why. I beg for him to stop hurting me sometimes but the pain just gets worse when I ask. Then they all leave and I lay in the dark and cry like a child. Chapter four Lena stared down at the limp body, crumpled awkwardly on the floor. She knew that had been a rash decision. She wasn’t sure what to do next. She looked over at the fire; the couple and zero had heard the noise and were peering into the darkness at the edge of the lit ring. Lena gave a long low whistle as a signal to zero to show where she was, he started and looked over to her in the blackness then he walked over slowly, cautiously looking over his shoulders to check nothing was out of place, it paid to be careful in this place. When he saw Lena he relaxed but looked concerned as he saw her agitation and then he noticed the bloodied rock that was clenched in her hand. She didn’t say anything she just turned to where the lifeless body of the spy lay sprawled in the dirt. The purple of the cloak that was now entangled in his legs showed he wasn’t just a normal guard, he was one of the Emperor’s special elites, trained to spy and hunt with amazing prowess. They trained them at a secret base talked about in fearful whispers. It was told that they performed a rite which took away their emotions and left only determined killing machines, hypnotised to take orders and to find information whatever the cost. These men were never found on the outer rim island of Dora where the town was placed. They patrolled the vastly populated areas of land around the two cities of Anwein and the Capital city of Kardon on the middle island of Saxondale, finding out those who opposed the great Emperor and bringing them to the widely speculated about military bases that were supposedly scattered in the wilderness. They struck fear in the hearts of those in the city and had even gained infamy as far out as the Town. Lena knew that her actions had probably been the stupidest of her entire life. The special agents rarely worked alone. Zero crouched low over the body ascertaining whether the man was dead or not. A smear of thick, dark blood had oozed down over one half of his face and behind his ear onto the dusty ground, and as he pulled the mans head up the firelight caught a glint of metal protruding out of his hair; a large, metal pin from his headdress of dyed red horsehair had not been secured properly to his helmet and had been pushed into his skull when Lena had brought the stone down upon his head, penetrating even the protective under padding of the helmet and going right through his head and out behind his ear. Lena was horrified; she had just killed a man, her stomach suddenly turned and she wrenched her wretched face from the body and threw up in the dust beneath her feet. She hadn’t thought she had brought the rock down that hard, how had she killed him? She couldn’t feel, see or hear anything, not zero’s warm, comforting hands guiding her to the fire, not the pale faces of the worried and confused couple who zero had left by the flames, nor the quiet whispers as Zero explained what had happened and the woman’s small scream of fear and agitation. It was clear to Zero that the man had been watching them as they talked for some reason, he wasn’t just some Town constable who had followed them out of town to catch them at the tip. There was an ulterior motive here if the Emperor was interested in the town. And Zero had a very bad feeling that he was still being watched. He walked the man and woman back to the edge and watched as they scurried away into the darkness sending after them a silent prayer of protection and hoping to paradise that they wouldn’t be caught out after curfew and reprimanded. Then he turned to Lena who was quietly looking into the flames tears rolling down her cheeks, she always thought of herself as fearless but she never thought she would kill anyone. Zero knelt down and wiped the tears from her cheeks and said “hush now little spirit, you did right and saved those people. Don’t grieve for him, rejoice that you saved Cira’s parents from certain death” he pulled her into his warm comfortable embrace and rocked her like a baby, soothing her fears and hushing her grievances. He was reminded of when he had first seen Lena all those years ago. She was so unique. He found the babies in groups scattered at the edges of the tip, hidden underneath the daily rubbish from the houses. He was used to seeing the curtains in the windows of the houses facing the tip twitch as parents watched him take their children into his domain of debris; he would hear women’s muffled crying from within and he would read the pleas attached to the babies clothing and blankets, to look after them and cherish them. It broke his heart that the children would never know the truth and grow up hating the town’s people. But Lena was alone and was fated to remain alone; her burden had weighed heavily on him, her frustration at never being able to locate her parents, at having her questions rebuffed at every turn. She was more his child than any of the others but he knew she resented this. There was also the small matter of what else came with Lena. Lena had fallen asleep in Zero’s arms and awoke laid out in the shelter that she shared with two other girls. They were sound asleep at either side of her, the hum of their breathing told Lena that they were deeply dreaming after last nights dancing. She turned on her back and stared up at the light filtering through he gaps of the metal sheeting which made their roof. She knew that she wouldn’t be able to stay here for long, she wasn’t stupid and she knew that someone would come looking for the guard eventually, they were merciless and they would kill them all. She began to cry again but angrily pushed the tears from her cheeks, she wasn’t dead yet and she wasn’t a child anymore, she breathed in deeply and then began to gather her few belongings together. She was determined to leave without seeing anyone; she didn’t think she could bear saying goodbye and zero would be able to deal with the questions they would ask about her. She picked up her few items of clothes, a small flint dagger, bound by a strip of material to a wooden hilt and pulled on her winter boots that she had made from bits of leather and fur found around the tip. She knew that as far as the eye could see from the tops of the trees in the forest there was almost impenetrable wilderness and mountains, dangerous country, beyond that lay the glimmer of the sea and the echoes of stories told to her by Zero when they were young of sea voyages and strange vessels that could stand upon the waves and that carried people to safe shores. He had tried to teach them about a world that they may someday be a part of if they chose to leave. Lena wasn’t sure if all Zero’s stories had been tales of fantasy but she was damn well going to find out for herself. She wrapped up her small miscellaneous items in a piece of sacking and then tied that with other pieces of material until she could wear it on her back like a sling. She put on all her items of jewellery which consisted of a dyed green strip of leather with a rose quartz roughly fashioned into a pendant and a bracelet made out of plaited cotton strands in blue and green, she also took a handful of coloured stones and quartzes and placed them in her pocket thinking that they might be useful for bartering with along the way ‘along the way where?’ she thought despondently ‘I have no idea where to go’. She lifted the sheet of sacking that made the entrance to the shelter and peered out into the cold dawn outside. She took a long deep breath and let it out slowly, her hands trembling she crawled out into the clammy hands of the new day. With her heart beating quickly in a constricted chest she picked her way through the other shelters, jumping whenever she heard a snore or someone turning in their sleep, she found the edge of the tip and stood still on the border between her old life and the unknown. She knelt down and felt the dust under her fingers, she felt the sharp stab of fear making her sweat and shake; she had never left the tip not even on a dare and it was her entire world. She clenched her fists and closed her eyes; slowly she stood up and raised her head to face the forest. Suddenly a voice called her name, she jumped and turned to face Cira emerging from the shadows of her shelter which also faced the forest “Lena what were you doing?” she reached to touch Lena’s shoulder but Lena shrugged her off, she didn’t want Cira to stop her leaving and saying goodbye would be just too painful to bear, “I was just thinking” Lena replied trying to make her voice sound relaxed and nonchalant but ending up far too high pitched. “What about?” Cira sounded concerned she knew Lena could get far too involved with her feelings. “Nothing much, why don’t you go back to bed, Maxo will wonder where you are” “Lena please, you would tell me if there was something seriously wrong wouldn’t you?” Cira was getting upset and Lena was panicking she had to get away before people woke up and she lost her chance to leave without answering questions. “of course I would you’re my best friend I tell you everything, anyway its you who has left me out in the dark about your parents” she let her voice take on resentment and hoped it would do the trick and get Cira off the subject of her. “I know I’m sorry, I wanted to talk last night but I didn’t get a chance, Maxo didn’t want me to get any more upset than I was on account of the baby, but I couldn’t sleep which is why I’m up now. My mother…She...She...” Cira’s face broke into sobs, Lena sighed, she couldn’t leave now not with Cira needing her to be there. “Tell me what happened” she went and put her arms around Cira and they sat down in the dirt, Lena cradling Cira as Zero had done to her last night. “she told me that she hadn’t had a choice but she couldn’t explain why, she said she had wanted to see me but couldn’t because of the rules, Zero had told them about the wedding I don’t know how he managed it but he obviously knew who he was looking for” she gazed down at her hand as she spoke and caressed the birthmark, Lena felt again the cold pierce of bitterness in her heart “to tell the truth I was so happy they came but angry at the same time I can’t explain it, you must think I’m really stupid and weak I know I should hate them but I just can’t Len” Lena squeezed her shoulder trying to block out her own jealousy and concentrate on Cira’s pain. Lena could radiate a very concentrated feeling of calm when she needed to. “Cira you need to rest this can’t be good for the baby, we can talk more later today please go and sleep, for me” she didn’t like lying to her and the words felt like acid in her tongue, Cira had been like a sister to her but how could she explain that she had to leave Cira would never understand and it would be to heartbreaking for Lena. “yes your right I’m exhausted, I’m sorry I know how you feel about the town but I needed to talk to someone” Lena gave her one last hug and helped her back to her shelter, she could feel the tears behind her eyes as she smiled at Cira for the last time ‘I’m so sorry’ she thought as she watched her clamber back into the comfortable darkness of the shelter. Finally she turned her back to the shelters and let go, the tears ran rivers down her cheeks but she couldn’t afford to waste any more time; it was already nearly mid-morning. She took another deep breath but this time her courage didn’t fail her, with her teeth gritted she stepped over the edge and didn’t stop walking until she was well within the grasp of the trees that marked the perimeter of the wilderness. There was no going back. Hours later the children were still searching for her, combing the tip for any signs of Lena. Each search party came back without her. Cira was beside herself and Zero was trying to console her, he had guessed that Lena might want to leave and he would have probably let her but he thought that she would have come back to talk to him first to say goodbye and to let him tell her the truth ‘but she didn’t know there was anything to tell’ he thought ‘I’m such a fool I should have told her before and now its too late’ he thought of her alone in the wilderness and a tear fell silently down his cheek ‘it’s in the hands of fate now’ he thought. Chapter five I think about my time at the university. It’s not as painful now; I have become used to the endless torture and I feel more at liberty to reflect on my life. They haven’t broken me yet but I let them think they are winning it saves much of the agony. The Doctor’s visits are less frequent now and he doesn’t ask so many questions, he thinks he has won. I am allowed to eat now, proper food for the first time in months that wasn’t fed to me intravenously through a tube. They have technology here that no one in the rest of the world would even dream of. At night I dream of gleaming instruments and the whirring of sparkling machines, but they use it only for their cruel and selfish purposes and are not allowed to speak of it save to each other, I have heard their coded speech from my window and its almost laughable that they think they have pulled the wool over the eyes of the world, they think us inmates are far to stupid or weak to think about the strange devices and I’m sure mostly they are, but I am fascinated by horror and disgust. If the world knew what was created here in secret, the technology, it would never be the same again, but I suppose that’s how the power is kept; by keeping the world in ignorance. Last night I dreamt again that I was on the shore of the sea near the university. I used to go there when I wanted to be alone, sneaking out in the dead of night to watch the waves crash upon the sand. I woke shaking and crying with longing, it was the only place I have ever truly called home. I think I have realised why they have put me here. I found something out and I told the others, my school fellows, about it. I’m not really sure what it’s called, I think there used to be a word for it but it’s long been forgotten, sometimes I get the feeling its on the tip of my tongue it’s so frustrating. The doctor would try to make me talk about it, let him in on the secret so it could be erased, the others were looking for it inside me with their machines and operations but they never found it. They don’t realise it isn’t a physical thing, not really but it can do physical things, it can make people think. They were looking in all the wrong places and talking about all the wrong things. I suppose everyone else here had the same idea and were all duly caught, it’s quite comforting to think that I’m not the only one and that I’m probably not insane. I keep it well hidden now but it’s not gone. It’s like a comforting light inside me and when I’m alone I light it up like the spark of flame, I place my palm above the floor where the light enters my window and marvel at what happens to the ground underneath, the dark space that my body creates; an imprint of me on the ground, perfect and dark. I was intelligent, I think that was one of the reasons they kept an eye on me as well. There is no room for intelligence. I remember rumours of teachers being taken away for their aptitude, we were told that they were performing a service for the empire but I knew secretly that they were just not ignorant enough to have a place in the world… I also had something they call Charisma I think, I used it on the others to make them listen to me, to teach them. I wish I hadn’t. I’m slowly becoming stronger now they think I am broken. I put on a really good show, I look suitably scared when the doctor enters, I gibber and froth at the mouth, I make my eyes blank and for this I am rewarded with food and a wash. My stubbly hair begins to grow back I run my fingers over my spiky scalp and smile. I watch my muscles slowly form again; I do exercises in secret at night, I feel healthier than I have done in a long time, I was twenty with the body of a ten year old but now I am alive again. I must be careful. I can’t go back I think it would kill me. I will get out the first opportunity I get. Chapter six Lena was alone in the wilderness. It was unbearably hot and she was starving and desperately thirsty, crawling through the dense undergrowth; She had given up trying to walk upright hours ago the vegetation was just too thick. Here and there she caught a glimpse of sunlight through the branches above her head but mostly she was in shadow, brambles caught at her clothes ripping them to shreds, her hands were cut and bleeding from the rough ground, her hair matted with leaves. She was willing herself to move forward, trying not to think of the animals that might be watching her, trying not to think of the comfort and safety of the home she had left behind. A few miles in the distance she could just make out a clearing, this was her goal before night fell. She ripped prickly vines out of her path and pushed onward. She was close to collapse from exhaustion and hunger, she realised she had not eaten since last night and had not taken any food with her, her mouth was dry and rough, sweat poured from her brow, dizziness hit her like a mallet and she fell onto the dusty, cracked floor. The grass didn’t grow here very well as it couldn’t get to sunlight but here and there were small tufts, Lena reached forward and grabbed two of these tufts in front of her, pulling herself forward on her belly. She began to sob with anger at her weakness, she had only been travelling twelve hours and already she wanted to give up. She hadn’t realised it would be this hard; others had done it before her, many of the older children had left to try and make their way to a city ‘but I don’t know if any of them made it’ she thought ‘I will do it’ she pounded the ground with her fists and got back onto her hands and knees before setting off again at a sluggish pace. It was well into the night before she reached the clearing. She collapsed in the middle of the rough ring of trees and bushes. There was cool grass here, she lay out on it and stretched out hearing all the bones in her back and neck crack. There was no moon and she couldn’t see any farther than a foot in any direction. She could hear noises in the undergrowth; it was cold now, the heat disappearing with the sunlight, she comforted herself by thinking that if she couldn’t see, then neither could anything else. She pulled her flint knife out though ‘just in case’ and curled up in tight ball wrapping her arms round herself for warmth and fell into a deep sleep. She awoke suddenly. She had heard something moving. It was still dark, the moon had finally decided to make an appearance and cast an unnatural glow over the trees and grass. Shapes seemed to move in and out of the trees. Lena was tense with fear and suddenly wide awake; she sat up and looked about her, goose pimples rising on her arms and neck. She gripped her knife tightly and stilled her heavy breathing. There was something moving in the darkness of the trees. Lena heard a hiss like a serpent and then opened her mouth in shock as she saw two bright white lights illuminate the dark. The thing turned its head towards her, it was roughly the shape of a human, Lena could see the rough outline of arms and legs darker than the night air that surrounded them, the two white lights appeared to be its eyes. Then she saw there were more of them melting in and out of the darkness between the shadows, their bright eyes twinkling between the branches. She was in a cold sweat of fear, the dagger in her hand felt slippery. The creatures began to walk forward towards the perimeter of the circle of grass, they stopped in a ring around the edge, and Lena could hear the low hiss they emitted in unison sending a deep chill down her spine. One tried to walk forward into the circle but where the moonlight hit its skin it seemed to burn; emitting smoke and making a fizzing noise and the thing hissed loudly as if in pain, Lena realised that they couldn’t go into the moonlight. She begged the moon to stay out. For what seemed like hours Lena sat bolt upright in the centre of the grass circle, watching the creatures as they watched her, her dagger in front of her ready to be used if necessary, her breathing heavy with terror, her hands trembling. Then the moon went behind a cloud. The creatures didn’t waste a second, suddenly she was catapulted into darkness; she could hear the hissing all around her and feel the long white nails on their hands grazing her arms and cheeks, screaming hysterically she slashed out with her knife as they engulfed her. She felt like she was drowning slowly, blood ran before her eyes and she could taste the salty mixture of sweat, blood and tears as she fell onto the ground. The creatures were clammy on her skin and she fought for breath as the piled on top of her. Then she heard the screaming, not from her own mouth which was muffled by the creatures, but it seemed like it was from somewhere inside her mind, it was a long high-pitched wail that seemed to penetrate her whole body. Then she saw it; blood on hands and faces, torsos ripped open, cries of men in battle and men dying, the slash and parry of silky steel which cut through them all. These were memories. Then she saw men and women who she recognised, people she had known from the tip, falling down in the wild under the branches of merciless trees, hands and faces ripped by brambles then their bodies slowly turning bone and dust, decaying in the wind. She felt the white hot anger of the creatures and she knew they had come to claim her too. She saw a bright white light that filled her eyes and then fell into deep unconsciousness. |