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THE MAN LOST HIS BALANCE as he tried to stand; he was too close to the edge. His hand grabbed out reaching for a hold of something, anything to stop his fall. His hand found the chain around the young woman’s neck, grabbing with it a thick patch of her flaming auburn hair, and her eyes widened with fear at the realization that he aimed to pull her over the cliff’s edge with him. In her peripheral she saw a helping hand reaching for her, but it was too late. She grasped for the hand. Frantic. And felt nothing but air as she felt herself falling ...falling ...falling. The icy waters hit her, momentarily knocking the breath from her. Still, she struggled, kicking and pulling as she tried to reach the surface. Suddenly, a blinding pain seared through the back of her head as it connected with rock, and she sank slowly. Paralyzed, the young woman could see the dim light above her start to fade, and then there was nothing but darkness...
The piercing scream tore through the night, shattering the silence of the darkness, and the little girl jolted upright in her bed. Sweat dripped down her temples, the hair framing her face and neck curled with perspiration. The heaviness of her breathing a notch below panic. Then she saw it, the soft-white glow of the hand reaching toward her. Her breathing slowed. The droplet of sweat freezing on the edge of her chin. Her scream sucked from the air around her. A low humming the only sound in the room as time stood still. Frozen. Suspended around her. She saw the touch before she felt the coolness of the icy hand on top of her own. With sheer willpower, the little girl focused on turning her hand over, her movements suspended as if in slow motion, until, at last, she was able to grasp the hand of the beautiful glowing woman with her own.
The faded sound of the woman’s voice rippled through the stillness, as if through water. Slow. Muffled. Soothing. Was she still dreaming?
“There, there, little one. You are safe. I’m here now.”
“She wants to know why you keep coming to me?” the little girl asked, but the voice was not her own.
“Tell her-”
“She can hear you.” The little girl’s face wrinkled in concentration, knowing, somehow, she needed to pay attention to this voice inside her head telling her what to say to this woman.
“Very well.” The woman’s back stiffened, her shoulders rose. “I needed to be sure it was her. We need... I need her to find her way back to me.”
“Or what, you’ll steal me from my bed?” The woman looked deeply into the little girl’s eyes, as if searching for something. As if looking into her very soul.
“You know I can’t do that. I can’t take you with me. The council...” She trailed off.
The woman was very beautiful. The little girl was drawn to her. Seduced by her soul-song. But the voice was justified in its anger. Perhaps a little too harshly, the girl continued, her side in the war chosen, “She says this is your fault, you know? You could end this, but you won’t stand up for what’s right. She says she won’t forgive you for many lifetimes, for what you did.”
The air crackled around them. The light surrounding the woman shone brighter for a split second, and she watched with shock upon her face as the long auburn locks of the little girl floated up around her.
She squeezed her eyes tightly shut.
“I’m sorry.” It was a whisper that faded into silence. The humming stopped.
“You are not forgiven,” said the girl.
The pressure in the air expanded, and the temperature dropped. As a bright light flashed through the space of the tiny bedroom, previously lit only by the light of the visitor, she drew back instantly. The tiniest crack of light, small as a speck, started and shone brightly against the invisible barrier. Growing larger until it ripped into a jagged expanse and fast-spreading as a stream of blinding light, a deafening sonic wave exploded out from the center of the little girl’s chest. The noise pulsed through the barrier, the remnants of the light burning and falling to ash, before disappearing into nothingness.
“No! What has she done?” The woman grabbed the limp body of the little girl and turned the child’s face to look into her eyes again. Searching. Steel met steel. “What has she done?” The woman sobbed as she laid the girl down and backed away from the bed again. The visitor faded into the darkness.
The little girl lay on the bed immobilized, except for her rapidly blinking lashes. One arm hung limply over the side of the bed. Her face was tilted toward the window, but she was too terrified to scream. Tears worked their way down her face, uninterrupted, and dripped onto the wooden floor, the sound echoing loudly in the otherwise silent room. Hearing the door to her room burst open, her little chest heaved in relief, and the strong arms of her father gathered her close to his warmth. His voice was hazy and distant, but it didn’t matter. He would never let anything happen to her. He would always save her.
***
“DAMN IT!” A FIST SLAMMED down on the top of the mahogany desk, sending papers flying off the desktop and scattering across the floor.
The young man at the window, didn’t look away, while the little girl watched with a keen eye from across the room. Perhaps too keen for one her age. If only she knew where her father’s anger was coming from to cause this flare of temper.
“Is there no other way?” her father asked.
The white-haired man behind the desk shook his head and looked down but not before she caught the look of empathy in his startling mossy-green eyes.
“I am sorry, my friend. I can see no other way.”
“And your boy, what does he think?” The boy? She looked toward the window again.
“I have raised my son to do his duty. When it is time, he will do what is right.”
She cocked her head to the side and watched the person they spoke about. He wasn’t old, but he didn’t seem too young either. Definitely not a boy, she decided. His back was as rigid as his stance, legs firmly set, slightly apart, arms crossed tightly over his chest, but his shoulders sloped ever so slightly, hunching forward, lending him an air of defeat. She frowned.
A flash of silver caught her eye and she turned back to the desk; her curiosity heightened. Her father ran a sharp-looking blade over his palm, and a thin line of red pooled in its wake. She moved forward, intrigued, as he fisted his palm and held it over a crisp, white sheet of paper that rested on the desk.
There was something off about that paper.
With a gentle squeeze, the red liquid found a place on the parchment, and the paper pulsed. She could feel it in her soul. She watched in fascination as her father dipped a quill into the smear of blood, and, in great scrolling letters, made his mark upon the paper. She stepped closer again as her father handed the blade to the white-haired man.
Something pulled at her.
Made her turn back.
A feeling?
She wasn’t sure, but she found herself moving, this time closer to the young man. At some point, he had uncrossed his arms and now they hung limply at his sides. She didn’t know why, but suddenly, she felt the need to comfort him. She slipped up beside him. He didn’t shoo her away. A good sign. Timidly, she placed her tiny hand into his much larger one in awe of the difference in size.
She felt more than heard his sigh. She looked down at their joined hands unsure if the quick shock of pressure she’d felt was just her imagination or him acknowledging her. And, just like that, he let her go. A jolt of heat moved through her, and she looked up at him in question. He was staring down at her one moment, a look of regret in his eyes, as he whispered the words “I’m sorry,” and the next second he was gone. Vanished.