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The Princess Spiral Down
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The Princess Spiral Down |
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aaron woodside Member
since 2001-09-26
Posts 256 |
Michael felt the heat of the fire singeing his face. He rolled to the side to avoid the next blast and crouched down behind a shattered stone pillar. He was sweating profusely in the heavy plate armor he was wearing and he could barely see out of the visor. Without a second thought he ripped the helm off his head and tossed it away. It clanked and clanged as it skid along the ground until a jet of flame enveloped it. He peeked around the corner and saw the great dragon rear back on its hind legs, inhaling deeply, ready to release its fiery breathe. Michael rushed forward, his shield covering his face and held the mighty sword Excalibur high. Just when the beast was about to rain fiery doom down upon him, Michael dodged to the left and…felt a tap on his shoulder. “You should be more careful what you wish for you know.” She said as she took the seat next to him. Michael Lorenty looked up from his book to see a very attractive brunette watching him expectantly. Her long mahogany hair hung down past her shoulders with the tips curling back up ever so slightly and she had the most enchanting soft almond eyes that glinted golden in the sunlight streaming through the windows. “Excuse me?” he asked. “I said you really should be more careful what you wish for.” She said again. A tiny smile played at the edge of her mouth before disappearing back into the tides of seriousness. Her eyes seemed to look into him and through him and he felt goose pimples forming across his body. A memory of the time when he was younger and had run naked through the late summer evening came unbidden to his mind. He shook his head slightly to clear his mind. “What…why do you say that?” Michael said. She smiled this time, warm and inviting and full of joy, her smile seemed to carry all the happiness of the world within it and he felt a warm sensation spread across his body, as if he were laying in an open field on a sunny day. Michael couldn’t help but smile back. “Because you just might get what you want.” She said. Michael closed his book and shifted in his seat so that he was facing her full on. He was really intrigued by this girl, though he had no clue what she was talking about. There was something about her, something out of the ordinary, but he couldn’t quite place his finger on it. “I think that’s kind of the point in wishing.” He said. She laughed, the distant sound of children playing in the fading hours of daylight echoing around her, and said “Really? That’s interesting.” The train slowed quickly as it came up to the next stop and Michael was forced to steady himself against the window to keep his balance. The girl stood up and gracefully walked to the door and waited for it to open. Michael couldn’t take his eyes off her and she turned and smiled at him once more before walking quickly off onto the platform. It was with some effort that Michael forced himself to reopen his book. The train took off at full blast and sped toward the five mile underground stretch through the city. Michael hated this part of his daily train ride. Everyday he had to ride through the city to get to work and then again on his way home. All sorts of strange and disturbing people got on the train in the city. There was the crazy old woman with her faded grey and black sweater who mumbled to herself and stunk of old cabbage. The chatterboxes, a group of women who all knew each other, gossiped and laughed the entire way home each day. The studying students, the headphone couple, the ticked off power broker with laptop and three piece suit, and the sleeping security guard. The begging hobos who reeked of dried urine and the shifty eyed con men peddling their stolen wares. Michael knew them all and many more by sight. The train entered the tunnel that would begin his eighteen minute ride through the city and the lights went out. Michael began to count slowly in his head, 5…10…15 and the lights came back on just like they always did. He glanced around the train, didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary and began to read. Michael was always the hero. In his books he could be anyone he wanted and experience all the things a skinny pale young man with glasses and anxiety problems never could. The real world seemed much less appealing when he could soar through the sapphire colored sky on the back of a screeching phoenix or rescue the virgin princess from the monstrous dragon just by picking up a book. Fantasy or mystery, romance or drama, it didn’t matter. There was always something new, something exciting happening on the next page. As long as the story had a courageous hero, a damsel in distress, and a suitably malicious villain, Michael would devour it and relish every delicious word. Every night before going to sleep he would close his eyes and wish that tomorrow would bring something bewildering or wondrous, but it never came. The real world was always the same, sterile and cruel, and full of disappointment. That night he dreamt about her. She was in a dark place, chained to the floor with silver and black iron etched bindings. A dull glow emanated from the golden crown resting upon her head. Shadows seemed to slink and skitter just out of the corner of his eye as he slowly walked towards her. She was jerking at the chains holding her captive and a laughing chattering echoed from out of the darkness surrounding her. She began to cry. Michael felt his legs move faster and realized that even though he was running towards her, she was sliding farther and farther away. Just before the darkness enveloped her, she looked towards him, recognition sparking in her eyes and whispered…”Help me.” Michael woke the next morning feeling terribly sore, his legs ached and his chest felt constricted and tight like he had just left the gym. He took a hot shower to calm his muscles and left the house. He boarded the train at his usual stop, a brand new book in hand, and sat down to immerse himself in another world. The day rolled by quickly and at five P.M. Michael walked out of his office building and boarded his train. He sat in the back and placed his backpack on the empty seat next to him before opening his book. He was so engrossed in the story that he didn’t notice the girl from yesterday board the train at the next stop until she had walked down the aisle and tapped him on the shoulder. He looked up with a start. “Excuse me. Do mind if I sit down?” she said. Michael looked around the train. There were empty seats all down the aisle; she could have chosen any one of them. He smiled. “Sure. Here let me move this.” He said and moved his backpack onto the floor. “My name is Michael.” “Aria.” She said and held her hand out to him. She sat down as the train began to move and crossed her hands over her lap. “Did you think about what I said yesterday?” “About being careful what I wish for?” She nodded at him softly, her golden brown eyes coaxing him on coyly. Michael shook his head and said “No not really. No offense but I assumed you were just another crazy on the train.” He wanted to slap himself on the head as soon as he said it. An attractive girl is, if not hitting on him, at least taking an interest in him and he goes and insults her by comparing her to the winos and peddlers. To her credit she didn’t let it faze her. Michael blushed a little and said “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” “It’s ok Michael, I know what you meant.” She said interrupting him before he could stick his foot further down his throat. Her voice was calm and peaceful, driving away his insecurities. “I was just giving you a warning is all. You are free to take it or leave it as you wish.” “Thanks. Why do you think I need a warning though? I mean, I get the whole I just might get what I want thing, but why warn me against that?” He said. She smiled and again he felt a rush of warmth encase him, the heat seeping into him, warming him through and through. “Tell me Michael, what is it you wish for most? What is it that makes look out your window each night praying for that falling star? Why are you always buried nose deep in a book full of tall tales and make believe?” Michael glanced out the window at a passing tree. He couldn’t tell if she was mocking him or if she genuinely wanted to know. He cocked his head to see her leaning towards him, eager for his answer. She reminded him of a stalking lioness, crouched and hungry, ready to pounce should he stumble or fall. It was a disconcerting and yet strangely thrilling thought. “Wonder.” He said. “Wonder?” “Yes, wonder.” He paused for a moment to gather his thoughts and gauge her reaction. She was watching him intently, her eyes fixated on him. “Look around you Aria, everyone on this train is dead. They live and breathe, but there’s nothing there inside anymore. Too many hard knocks, too many doors closed and it’s like they just closed shop and left. I don’t want to accept that this is it. That there is nothing to the world but bills and paychecks and fast food. So, I wish for wonder. Something awe inspiring, something magical. Anything that will break the banality I see around me everyday.” She placed her hand on top of his and he felt his gaze drawn to hers almost against his will. There was a sadness in her eyes, and a terrible fear hidden deep down inside covered under her inviting demeanor. Looking into her eyes, Michael felt naked; like she could see everything he was thinking and feeling that he was nothing but an open book to her. “I’m so sorry Michael…” she said, a faint whisper cutting through the clamor of the train. “I dreamt about you.” He said, half remembering his previous night’s illusion. Never taking her eyes off his, she nodded her head. “Why did I dream about you?” he asked. She squeezed his hand and leaned forward. Her lips brushed his cheek lightly and she pulled away. “It’s my stop now Michael.” Michael watched her walk through the crowd of people. No one looked at her or even gave notice of her existence, but almost unconsciously they moved out of her way. Michael lost sight of her as she slipped through a crowd of construction workers and then she was gone. The train pulled away and took off towards the tunnel under the city. Michael was so lost in his thoughts and dreams about her, that he barely noticed the faint lip shaped welt form on his cheek or the burning sensation that accompanied it the entire way through the tunnel. He dreamt of her again that night. This time she was being led by her chain along a rough path through a dark and gloomy forest. Thorns and brambles lashed at her ankles leaving crimson droplets staining the path behind her. Michael walked a few feet behind, yearning to go help her, but unable to do anything except keep pace. A thick mist rolled around them and blurred his vision beyond a few feet. The chain attached to her wrists was taut and stretched off into the mists. The shadow of a large figure strode ahead and despite his best effort; Michael was unable to get a clear view of the person dragging her along. He followed her, always ten feet behind, until they came upon a massive stone wall that stretched as far up as he could see. A simple opening, unadorned and plain, stood in the wall at the foot of the path and Michael watched the shadowy figure enter it. Aria struggled violently against the pull of the chain, but foot by agonizing foot was pulled ever closer to the opening. She looked around her desperately and spotted him. Michael could not have imagined such an expression of horror and dread on a face as beautiful as hers in his wildest nightmares. She called out to him and clawed at the stone, desperate to remain outside. He lunged forward, cutting his arms as he crashed through the thorns and bristles, to grab her before she was sucked into the inky blackness, but grasped only stone. He was on his knees before the doorway, unable to see more then a foot into the opening. He looked behind him and saw the mists clearing away revealing a sunlit path back through a summer forest. He stood up, took a step forward, and heard her whisper as the darkness of the doorway overtook him. ”I need you, Michael.” Michael awoke with a start and nearly fell off his bed. A cold sweat glistened on his body in the pale moonlight shining through his window and the nightlight in his corner. It was a silly fear but Michael couldn’t stand the dark, too many books, too many stories and his over active imagination left him seeing monsters in every shadow. A grown man afraid of the dark. He had taken to keeping a nightlight on every night. He cracked the window to let some fresh air in and looked up at the night sky. His entire body was shaking and his heart pounded in his chest. He could barely stand up and clutched the window edge until his knuckles turned white with the effort. He’d never had a nightmare that vivid and frightening before. It was only then he noticed the sticky wetness coating his hands. He held them up in the moonlight and saw that they were covered in blood. He looked around and noticed a dozen small cuts and pricks tracing his arms. The memory of Aria’s terrified face flared in front of him and burned its way through his mind like a river of liquid fire, consuming all rational thought in an instant. He fell to the ground, tears streaming down his face and held his knees up to his chest. He did not fall back asleep. The sun rose and Michael felt the heat warming his skin. It reminded him of Aria’s smile. The thought gave him strength. He thought of her eyes, so soft and comforting, and the touch of her hand on his. The memory of their last encounter on the train and the kiss she had placed on his cheek made his heart surge and he climbed off the floor. It was with growing confidence in himself that he walked to his bathroom and stepped into the shower. The warm water flowed down his back and arms, washing away red into the drain. Aria’s smiling face floated in front of his mind’s eye and he smiled back. “Be careful what you wish for,” he thought “you just might get it.” When the shower curtain was opened and Michael stepped out, he was a new man, cleansed and purified, ready to be the hero she seemed to think he was. The day dragged on, hour after hour of mindless boredom. Everything about his job reeked of banality and plainness and when it was time to leave, he bolted from the building to the train station. He boarded and sat down in the back, his book neatly forgotten in the recesses of his laptop bag. The doors opened at the next stop, and Aria boarded the train. The crowd flowed around her as she walked gracefully down the aisle towards him. He inched over on the seat to make room for her and she sat. “You still have time to turn back, if you desire.” She said. She sat completely straight, her posture perfect and she was looking down at her hands, neatly folded in her lap. Michael reached over and gently placed his hand on top of hers. She looked up at him, her almond eyes practically begging. “No, I’m ready.” He said. “Just tell me what I have to do.” “It will happen when we enter the tunnel.” She said. “I’ll stay with you as long as I can.” She squeezed his hand tightly. Michael noticed for the first time that she smelled of freshly cut grass and ozone after a summer shower. The smell was intoxicating and he breathed in deep, savoring her scent. “What’s going to happen?” he asked. She shrugged and gave him a reassuring smile. “I don’t know. I’ve never done this before.” Michael nodded. “Ok. Why me then?” “I dreamt of you. I am dreaming of you.” Michael paused. “So right now…” “I’m sleeping, yes.” “And when you wake up?” he asked. Michael watched her close her eyes tightly and try to hold in a shudder. She opened them again and looked at him, her eyes glassy. “Darkness. Chains and pain.” She said. Michael gripped her hand and pulled her close to him. She wrapped her arm around his neck and held him fast. The train slowed and stopped. Michael looked out the window; this was the stop she had gotten off at the last two days. “What if you got off the train now?” he said. “I’d wake up in a few hours. Now or later, it doesn’t matter, I’ll still wake up in the same place, and I’d rather be with you now.” She said. The train moved away from the station and she breathed in deep. Michael couldn’t take his eyes off her. Her eyes, her hair, the tip of her perfect nose, Michael realized that she was quite possibly the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She looked over at him and smiled again. “I love when you smile at me.” He said. “I love to smile at you.” “I’ll save you, no matter what the cost. I promise.” Michael vowed. “Be careful what you promise Michael. Promises have real power where we are going.” She sighed and her smile faltered. “Promise me if you get in trouble, real life threatening trouble, you’ll pinch yourself twice on your left ear and tell yourself to wake.” “What….?” “It’ll keep you safe. Just promise me.” She said. Her eyes caught a stray ray of sunshine and glinted golden. “Fine, I promise.” He replied. “But only if I know you’re safe.” The entrance to the tunnel loomed ahead of them. She grasped his hand tightly and together they sat as the darkness overtook them. Michael began his usual count of the seconds until the lights came back on. 5…10…15. The lights stayed off and the darkness became ever deeper, closing and pressing in until it felt like a tangible substance around him. “What’s happening?” Michael whispered. “We’re entering the Spiral, the pathway to home, the Dreamlands.” Aria whispered back. Michael nodded like he knew exactly what she was talking about. “I don’t like this, the lights were supposed to come back on by now. Something is wrong.” He said his fears of the dark threatening to overcome him. “More then you know. But I can fix this problem.” She said. A bright light flared next to him. Michael shielded his eyes at first until they adjusted to the light and looked over. Aria sat next to him, a brilliant golden glow emanating from her. Her eyes were like molten gold and her skin was a deep tan, perfect and unblemished. A golden crown of fire rested lightly upon her brow. Michael’s mouth dropped open. He had thought she was beautiful before, but surrounded as she was in a heavenly glow, he felt as if he’d never seen beauty until now, that even the concept of beautiful was a shallow and meaningless description of the woman sitting next to him. She reached over and put her fingers under his chin, gently closing his mouth. “Thank you. That’s very flattering.” She said. To his credit, Michael blushed. “I’m sorry, I just…you’re just…” “A midsummer night’s dream. Your hearts greatest desire.” She said. Michael smiled. “I was going to say glowing.” She gave him a warm smile and held her arm up. Brilliant golden motes of light began to play around her fingers before coalescing into a fist shaped ball. “Here, I have a gift for you.” The ball of light floated slowly from her hand onto Michael’s. He felt a momentary searing pain in his hand and cried out. The pain faded quickly though and the ball was inside of his hand, shining through his skin, moving when he moved. “As long as you have that light, I will never be far and you can draw on it for aid.” Michael was just about to thank her, when the train slammed to a stop and he was thrown forward, sliding along the floor until he hit the wall at the front of the car. A deep and threatening chuckle resonated through the air around him. He climbed to his feet and for the first time, noticed the rest of the train was empty. It had been packed with people when they entered the tunnel, but was now completely empty except for himself and Aria. She moved quickly to his side. “Are you alright?” she asked. He nodded and looked around. Whomever was chuckling hadn’t stopped. “Is that him?” “Yes.” She said and edged up next to him, her warm body pressed closely to his. He tried to ignore the burning sensation within him to pull her close and kiss her. “Why is he doing this? What does he want?” Michael asked. “Fear. He lives on it, feeds on it, like all nightmares do.” She was shaking next to him. “Then I won’t be afraid.” He said. He held his hand up and strode forward confidently into the darkness, pushing it back with the light she had given him. The chuckling stopped and the darkness seemed to lighten. “See nothing to…” The train jumped to life and began accelerating at an incredible speed. Michael fell onto his face and even Aria lost her balance momentarily. Within seconds, the train was hurtling down a dark and narrow tunnel towards its unseen end. The windows rattled noisily and the train creaked and popped. Normally the train was a smooth ride but at this speed, going around the twists and turns, it was difficult to stand up. Michael held onto the handrails for support. A window creaked and shattered from the pressure, showering glass into the car. Then another and another until all the windows were shattering and sending deadly little projectiles of glass flying through the air. A terrible howl filled the air and what Michael could only guess to be a living shadow flowed into the train through the windows. It covered him, enveloping him in darkness. He felt his chest tighten, and his anxiety well up. He hated the dark. Aria’s light was hazy, as if he was looking through smoke and even the light on his own hand was noticeably dimmer. Aria screamed. Michael rushed forward, heedless of the darkness around him. Aria was in trouble and he meant to help her. He had only gone a few feet when the ghastly face of a wretched old woman appeared before him. There were oozing puss filled scabs scattered amid the wrinkles and scars, and hideous sharp brown teeth lining her mouth. She howled at him and the scent of rotting meat filled his nose. Michael felt pure terror at that instant and nearly stopped in his tracks and cowered, but Aria screamed again. With hardly a second thought he swung his fist, laced with light, into the hag’s face, shattering it into so many wisps of smoke. It screeched and the shadow fled from the train. Aria was standing a few feet in front of him, her clothes ripped into tatters and her light nearly non-existent. There were tears streaming down her face and she was trembling violently. His heart went out to her. She took a step away from him and held her arms out. “Ride the Spiral, Michael. It’s your only hope; you must find the end…” She said, choking up as she continued to step away from him. “…I’m so sorry, for everything, I never meant…” Michael took a step forward and watched in horror as the shadow beast swirled back into the train, wrapping tendrils of darkness around her throat and body. She tried to scream, but all that came out was a sickening gurgle before she was swept out one of the broken windows and away into the darkness. “Aria!” he yelled, desperation evident in his voice. There was no answer, only the cold still silence of the darkness and the whistling of the air as the train continued on its course. He fell to his knees and stared out the window Aria had been pulled through. He had failed to protect her and now she was gone. He didn’t know what he was doing, thinking he was a hero. He wasn’t a knight in shining armor. Just a skinny kid who liked to read a lot, and now she had paid for that. He should have told her that he couldn’t help her, that she should find someone else. She was just so beautiful and so kind, so in need of help that he couldn’t think to say no. What a fool he was. He put his head into his hands and wept. He didn’t know how long he sat there, tears streaming through his fingers, before the train began to slow. He looked up, drying his eyes and saw a dim light off in the distance of the tunnel. Michael got up from the floor, and unsteadily made his way to the door. The train entered the light and Michael saw a platform to the right side of the train. A mass of people stood staring blankly forward. When the train stopped and the doors opened they boarded. They were all grey, not colored grey so much, but like black and white copies of real people, like they had stepped off an old movie screen. Michael quickly tried to hide the fact that he had been crying, but soon noticed that even though he could see them; they didn’t seem to notice him. They avoided him almost unconsciously and sat in their seats, staring blankly ahead. When all the seats were full, the rest stood silently holding onto the handrails. The train started moving again. “Excuse me?” Michael said to no one in particular. Nobody responded. Michael tapped a woman on the shoulder and said. “Excuse me miss? I need help.” The woman shifted uncomfortably, but didn’t say anything. Her eyes, glassy and cold and dead, remained fixated on the front of the train. Michael noticed all the passenger’s eyes were cold and dead and they all stared blankly forward. He looked out the front of the train and far, far off in the distance he could see sunlight streaming down. The end of the tunnel. He turned back to the people and noticed that as the train sped closer to the end of the tunnel, the people brightened. Pigments of color popped into being, a red shirt here or yellow earrings there. Their faces edged to tan. He knew what was happening; he was going home. He’d leave the tunnel and leave this nightmare behind. He couldn’t help Aria, he wasn’t a hero. The light she had given him was little more then a pinprick shining through his hand now. He stood next to an old woman, closed his eyes, and waited to reenter the real world. A tap on the back of his head. Michael turned around wearily to look. Sitting on the shoulder of the man behind him was a tiny little man with gossamer wings and dressed in a fine suit of silken blue. He was a foot tall if anything. His eyes were a brilliant lavender color and his skin a gleaming porcelain white. The tips of his ears were pointed and his hair a long silvery tangle. When Michael turned around, the little man cocked his head to the side like a bird. “Hello, dearest friend. I must ask, why pretend. I’m very curious, curious as a cat. Why play games, why do that?” the little man said. Michael shook his head. “I don’t understand, I’m not pretending anymore. I’m going home.” “A Michael pretends and heads off to home, a princess suffers; darkness in a tomb.” The little man replied. “How do you know my name?” Michael asked. “A puck knows.” “How?” “A puck knows.” The little man said again. “At least tell me your name, if you won’t tell me how you know mine.” Michael said. “A puck has no name. Names are power, a puck is small, give a puck a name, and watch a puck fall.” “A puck is annoying.” Michael said turning back around. The end of the tunnel was much nearer now. “A puck indeed.” The little man smiled. “Forgive my haste, and forgive my crass, the tunnel will soon end, and a puck will fade fast. A Michael must listen, a tale must be told, time can be bought, time can be sold. Will a Michael hear, a sad puck’s tale of woe, for a Lady Aria’s sake, will a Michael want to know?” Michael looked out the front of the train. The end of the tunnel would be upon them in less then a minute. He thought of Aria then and the expression on her face as she was dragged away by that thing. He thought of the chains in his dreams, the light in his hand, her touch and her smile. Michael turned back to the little man. “Tell me.” He said. “Then give me your hand and I’ll take what is mine, hold still and prick, a drop of blood for my time.” The puck grabbed Michael’s hand quickly and stuck a tiny silver needle into his palm. Michael flinched and noticed a single drop of blood well up from the wound. The puck placed his head down to the wound and licked it up, before offering a tiny silver flask to him. “Drink from my flask, do not tarry or wait, if you wish to save a lady, from her perilous fate.” Michael reached out and took the tiny flask in two fingers. He brought it to his mouth and drank. The liquid inside was cool and refreshing and very sweet. Even though the flask couldn’t have held more then one or two ounces, he found that the liquid kept pouring out and he drank until he had his fill. When he finished he gave the flask back to the puck, who promptly corked it and put it back inside a pocket. Michael swooned and nearly lost his balance. His head was swimming and his vision blurred. He looked out the window and noticed that the train now seemed to be crawling along the tunnel at an incredibly slow pace. He looked over at the puck. “What did you do to me?” he asked. The puck jumped from the man’s shoulder and hovered in the air for a second before landing on a sitting woman’s shoulder. It smiled at him and said “A drop of blood for my time, a Michael has tasted of my wine. Brewed in the Well of Ages, a gift of forgotten sages. A Michael must sit, and hear a puck’s tale; the sand will never stop, but fall like a snail.” The puck touched his hand to the woman’s temple and a silvery strand encircled her head. The puck hopped again onto another passenger’s shoulder and tugged on the strand. The woman resisted a little before standing up and moving down the aisle. The puck motioned Michael over to the now empty seat. Michael sat down. He felt very drowsy and light headed. The puck hopped a few more times and landed on his lap. It snapped its fingers twice and Michael felt his senses clear. The puck cleared his throat and said. “A spell, a puck has cast, be quick, it will not last. A Michael pretends, but doesn’t understand, a prince he is, a hero in demand. A heart, a soul, a secret concealed, rip loose the mask, a truth revealed. A baby dreamborn, a baby snatched, a baby grew, a man mismatched. A baby promised his hand in marriage, a lady accepted and grew disparaged. Her promised made real, no longer a dream, stolen by the night, a terror regime. A lady hunted and a lady swore, to find her love, she must explore. A trap was set, a lady was caught, all was lost, or so a puck thought. A lady most wily, a lady most clever, a lady found her love, a lady trapped however. A captor was made of shadow, son to a lord of fear, bound alone in darkness, a lady most dear. A Michael must remember, no normal mortal is he, a prince, a hero, a dreamborn, a Michael holds a key.” The puck placed his hand upon Michael’s chin and Michael remembered. A son was born in a far off land of forests and trees and haunted woods, to parents of noble birth. His mother had been radiant on the day of his birth and his father proud and strong. They announced his birth with a great festival and all the dreamborn for kingdoms around attended. The king and queen of a nearby land, a land of folly and happiness and of Midsummer Night revelry, brought their own unwed daughter with them. She was a beautiful woman with cascading brown hair the color of summer bark and molten gold eyes. When the newly born son beheld her, he immediately announced his intentions for marriage and the unwed daughter accepted, her skin glowing warmly in the chill night air. A date was set and the festival ended. When the sun rose the next morning across the haunted lands, a silence settled upon the kingdom. The prince was missing. The father blamed the visiting nobles and forced them from his kingdom. Michael remembered a shadow stealing the newly born son from his room, and whisking him off to the Spiral where he was brought to a womb, conceived and given birth in the land of the waking. The land of forests and woods grew ever darker and ever colder from the loss of it’s prince until eventually it and all within its borders crossed over under cover of darkness and joined the nightmares. Michael remembered all this and he grew angry. Angry at being denied his birthright, at being taken from his lands, his home, and placed into another world. He looked down at the puck on his lap. “Why?” “A puck knows the truth, a Michael does too, will a Michael turn back, a hero long overdue?” Michael nodded his head yes, determination gleaming in his eyes. “I don’t know how to turn this thing around. Aria brought me here; she’s the one who brought me into the Spiral.” “A Michael must only desire, to find a way to the source, a will and a wind, will let him change his course.” The puck said. “I desire.” Michael said and he did. He desired nothing more then to save Aria, the woman he remembered from so long ago and who risked everything to find him. He desired to confront those who had stolen his heritage from him and left him stuck in a world of banality and boredom. He desired to be a legend and live in this fairytale world more then anything else. “A puck will release a spell, a puck wishes a Michael fare thee well.” The puck said. With a clap of his hands the spell shattered and Michael was nearly thrown off his seat as the train jerked into motion. He looked ahead and saw the end of the tunnel rapidly disappearing into the darkness. The people around him slowly faded back to grey and then into thin air. “A Michael must remember one thing before a puck goes, a Michael has a power to fight his fears, a power in a hand that glows. A gift for a Michael, a gift a puck will bestow, a strand of will, unbreakable, a puck must now go.” The puck said, and twirled a thin silvery strand of thread in his hands before dropping it on Michael’s lap. The puck then disappeared in a flash and a cloud of silvery smoke. Michael was alone on the train again and picked up the silver strand. He tugged it between his hands and felt its strength. He placed the strand in his pocket and stood up. The train continued on its course spinning wildly down into the darkness. He looked at his hand, now shining brilliantly, and realized it was the only thing providing any light on the train. He thanked Aria silently for the gift. What was it that the puck said about finding his way? He only had to desire. Michael stood up and walked to the front of the train, the wind whipping around him and desired to find Aria. He thought about her chained in darkness and the massive stone wall in the thorns. He thought about the beast that had taken her. He willed the train to take him to her and the train shifted course, spinning to the left instead of the right as it had been. The air grew chill and Michael shivered. Up ahead he could see a veritable wall of darkness and the train plunged through it. Thump…thump…thump… Michael heard noise behind him and turned around. He held his hand up high and let the light shine down the blackened train car. There was nothing there. He walked slowly down the aisle, peering left and right for whatever had made the noise. Thump…thump…thump… The noise came from where he had just been standing. He twirled around but still didn’t see anything. He stood his ground this time, peering out the windows. He saw movement to his right out the corner of his eye. When he looked he found nothing there. He sensed something watching him and spun to the left, just catching a glimpse of a shadow moving outside the left window. A high pitched laughing chattering sounded around him. It reminded him of the sound of a child’s mocking laughter. “I know you’re there. Come out and show yourself.” More laughter and he noticed something moving just outside the bounds of the light. “Little Michael bookworm.” A high pitched voice mocked. “Why are you always reading Michael?” a different voice said. “Teacher’s pet, teacher’s pet.” A third voice said. Michael hated being called a teacher’s pet. All through grade school there had been a group of three young boys who loved to pick on him. They used to mock him for reading all the time and for doing well in school. Every time he answered a question, snickers sounded throughout the classroom. It had gotten so bad; Michael had quit answering questions, just to stop it. But it hadn’t stopped had it? When they couldn’t mock him in class they started doing it at lunch and recess, stealing his books, throwing them in the dirt or taking his glasses so he couldn’t see. On one particularly bad occasion they had taken his glasses in the bathroom and turned the lights off. One of the boys had hidden in the stalls and jumped out to scare him as he groped blindly for the light. A teacher found him crying on the floor of the bathroom in the dark. His glasses were sitting on his desk when he got back to class and all three of the boys were smirking. “Little Michael bookworm.” A voice said again. “Crybaby, crybaby.” The second voice. “Afraid of the dark, crying on the bathroom floor.” The third voice said. “Michael…Michael…watch out!” the first voice said again. Michael heard a loud crack behind him and twirled around. There was no one there and all three of the voices laughed again. He began to feel afraid and as he did, the light from his hand slowly diminished until the shadows and the darkness crept within a few feet of him. He could hear the things scurrying in the dark, ready to lash out and grab him. His heart was pounding in his chest and the light dimmed a little more. “Crybaby, teacher’s pet, crybaby…” a voice said. “Run and hide Michael, we’ll find you.” “Why are you here Michael?” “You’re no hero, no one believes in you.” “Boo!” Michael jumped and his heart lurched into his throat. The light on his hand faded and he was left standing completely in the dark. More laughter. Fear filled his mind uncontrollably; insidious little tentacles of doubt and terror worming their way into his heart and mind. He willed his hand to start glowing again, but it wouldn’t. He heard more noise and felt like whatever was on the train was very close to him. Just when he thought it was all over and he was about to be grabbed and devoured, he heard Aria’s voice in his head. “I believe in you Michael. As long as my light is with you, I am with you. You must believe in yourself or all is lost.” Aria was with him, she had found the strength even when chained in darkness to reach out to him. She believed in him that much. He had let himself be pushed around his entire life, retreating to his books when things became too much to bear. Now he had gotten what he always wished for, his own story, his own tale, and all he could do was cower in the dark. No longer, if he was going to go down, then he would go down shining. He wouldn’t let his fears and insecurities control him any longer. He thrust his hand into the air and willed it to light up. “I am not afraid.” He yelled and brilliant light spilled forth, illuminating the entire train car. The three little creatures standing near him shrieked in pain and scurried away. They looked like school children, dressed in the ubiquitous school outfit so common at private schools. All mottled brown and black, their faces were hideous distortions of a child’s. Their eyes bulged out a few inches from their face and their noses were little more then slits on their face. The worst part was their mouths which stretched from ear to ear and were filled with gleaming white pointed teeth. They clawed at the metal plates of the train, their skin burning and smoking in the light. Michael took a step towards them holding his hand forward. They shrieked even louder. “Mock me now.” He said, his voice filled with confidence and triumph. “Nooooo, Michael…” one howled in pain. “We’re sorry, we’re sorry.” Another said. “We’re sorry, it burns, we’re sorry.” The third screamed. “Where is she?” Michael asked, taking another step forward. The creatures, for creatures they were, clawed at the metal plates ever more rapidly, their hands little more then serrated blades where their fingers should be. “Where is who?” the first said. Michael noticed the skin sloughing off its hideous face in clumps. They were melting before him. “Aria. Where is Aria?” he demanded forcefully. “In chains, in darkness. Soon to be eaten, a delicious meal for our lord.” The first said again, one eyeball hanging out of its socket. “Tell me where.” He demanded again. “Down the Spiral, just beyond the Gate of Nightmares. “You’re too late, you can’t save her.” The second said. “Ugh..ugh…” the third added, the lower half of its jaw lying on the floor. “You’re wrong.” Michael said and strode right up next to them. The smell they made as they dissolved into puddles of goo, burned his nose and almost made him ill. “I made a promise.” The creatures finally quit howling and Michael was left standing next to a large pile of smoking flesh. The train stunk to high hell and Michael spit to get the taste from his mouth. He left the smoldering corpses of the creatures and walked to the front of the train. If she was beyond the gate, then that’s where he needed to go. He willed the train there and felt it shift its course. The train hurtled down and down the dark tunnel, for how long he couldn’t guess. It could have been hours or it could have been minutes. Time didn’t seem to matter here. All he knew was that suddenly the darkness lightened and Michael saw the walls slowly fade away to be replaced by trees and shrubs. The train was no longer running through the tunnel but through a forest at night. Stars twinkled in the sky above, and he felt at peace. Soon enough the train pulled up to a clearing in the trees and stopped. Michael saw the most wondrous sight he could have imagined. All throughout the clearing, creatures danced and reveled. Some had antlers on their heads and were covered in a thin layer of fur, with hooves where their feet should be. Others were monstrously large and covered in warts. Still more were tiny with little wings and silver or golden hair. A few were tall and human looking, except for the shining eyes or the flaming hair. Most of these wore shining steel armor and carried blades formed from fallen starlight. The doors to the train opened and Michael slowly walked into the party. A small figure made of wood with moss for hair was juggling clear crystal globes, each containing a smaller winged creature screaming in frustration. It soon dropped one of the balls and the little figure zipped off into the night air, quick as a falling star. A nearby woman with six fox tails and small pointed fuzzy ears, ran her arm across his chest as she walked by. She smelled of cinnamon and apples. Across the way he could see a great dance happening and exotic figures twirled and spun under the luminescent moonlight. A man with the legs of a goat bumped into him and laughed before draining a drought of liquid from the silver flask he carried. The man belched loudly and winked at Michael. A lass covered in what looked to be a dress made of spider silk approached the man and grabbed his hands, leading him off to dance. All around him things bizarre and fantastic danced and laughed and played. Michael approached a stall and saw the reddest apples he had ever seen for sale. There were other stranger fruits for sale too. Melons with spots of solid silver, little cherries cut in half, each with a diamond as the pit, and peaches that dripped a golden liquid and smelled heavenly. Michael turned away and saw a raised platform in the distance. There were two figures atop the platform, a man and a woman and each sat on a wooden throne, exquisitely carved and inlaid with all manner of precious stones. A third throne, smaller, but no less glamorous stood to their right. Sitting on that throne was a straw figure dressed in the finest clothes. The face was sloppily painted on and the long brown hair was made of dead and dried weeds. A cry arose in the distance and the name Aria echoed around him. Michael looked around desperately, the wonder of the feast forgotten, to see if Aria was near. He began shouting and pushing his way through the crowd of fairies and dreams. “Excuse me! I’m looking for Aria. Is she here?” he shouted. Murmurs went through the crowd and they all turned to stare at him. He heard Aria’s name repeated more then once and mention of the king and queen. A few pointed to the straw man sitting on the third throne. The smell of roasting meat wafted through the air and Michael could hear crickets chirping in the distance. “Can anyone help me? I don’t have much time.” Michael said. “A Michael is through, a hero has arrived, all shall welcome him, no courtesy contrived.” A familiar voice said. Michael watched as the puck from earlier hopped onto the ground before him. “A feast for a Michael, a party is at hand, the return of the lost, welcome to our land.” The puck smiled at him and bowed low. “I don’t understand.” Michael said. “I willed myself to Aria, why am I here?” “All shall be explained, the Spiral has been driven, an audience requested, and answers must be given.” The puck said. With a sweeping motion of his hand the puck turned to his side and the crowd cleared. Two elegantly dressed people were walking towards him slowly. When they stood a few feet from him they stopped and smiled. “The sands have been slowed, a trick you have seen, a puck presents to you now, our king and our queen.” The puck said and hopped once and hopped twice and was soon lost in the crowd. Michael noticed that the two figures from the platform were now standing in front of him. “Welcome Michael, the puck told us you would be along shortly. I apologize for the delay, but we felt it prudent to meet you before you embark on the final leg of your quest.” The man before him said in a deep baritone voice. He wore a loose fitting green tunic and a golden crown of light sat upon his head. He had on his head the largest antlers Michael had ever seen and carried a sword at his hip. His eyes glowed golden in the twilight of the forest. The lady next to him also wore green, a deep dark green gown of the finest silk. Her hair seemed to be made of flowing water and resting upon her head was a crown of shining silver that twinkled like the stars above. Her eyes shone silver. She is quite beautiful, Michael thought. “Fear not, a potent ritual has been enacted and you will not lose much time. Allow me to introduce myself, I am King Oberon, lord of the summer revelry and this is my Queen Titania. It is a pleasure to meet you.” The man and woman bowed low to him, and gasps went through the crowd. Michael didn’t know what to do, but decided politeness was his best bet. He bowed low in return. “It is my pleasure to meet you as well. May I ask why I have been brought here when Aria is still in danger?” he said. “A very good question and our hearts swell with pride to know our daughter has someone as dedicated as your self seeking her return. Aria is our daughter, a princess of the revelry. She has always been our most favored and the most stubborn. We sought to wed her to a prince of springtime renewal, but when you were born in the dream, she claimed her heart had found its other half. Who were we to deny her?” The man called Oberon said. “When you disappeared, her heart dimmed and we thought she would fade into the night, but our beloved and mischievous puck found clues to your whereabouts. Aria swore a vow to find you after we were forced from your land and has since been seeking you. It would seem she has not failed.” The lady Titania said, her voice like the tinkling of tiny bells. “I hope you do not take this the wrong way, but Michael, we did not approve of you or her desire for you. A prince of a haunted forest; our Aria was destined for sunshine and celebration. Yours was a land of shadows and ghosts, silence and contemplation. Not a terrible place at the time, but not what a parent wishes for their daughter. I am sorry to say, but you have no home to return too. Your land has since crossed over, your parent’s grief stricken at your disappearance and the land reflected their sorrow, until fully corrupted they became as the very beings that had snatched you in the first place.” Oberon said. “Darkness and pain is all the land now knows. But you have been spared the evils of your home. However, your birth and your heart caused all this to conspire. Our daughter is in perilous danger because of you. We are not unmerciful, but past slights must be amended. This we offer you, in exchange for the safe return of our daughter we shall make you a prince of joy and offer you refuge in our lands forever hence. Should you fail and our daughter perish, then may a terrible curse settle upon you, no friend nor stranger will ever grant you succor, and wherever you try to make a home, you shall be driven from for the rest of your days. Do you accept?” Titania said. Michael stood speechless for a few seconds. He didn’t like the thought of a terrible curse hounding him, but what could he do? Aria was in danger because of him, and it was time he owed up to that fact, however he wasn’t about to back down that easily. “I accept on one condition.” He said solemnly. “Forgive my tone, your majesty, but Aria is your daughter. Why is it that you sit and revel while she is captive? She may be in this predicament because of me, but I don’t see you doing anything about it either. I accept the terms of your offer on the condition that if I fail, you also suffer from the same curse for your inactivity. Do you accept?” Michael didn’t know how they would respond or even if he could make oaths like this. He held his chin up high and pretended like he knew what he was doing. Oberon and Titania looked shocked and glanced at each other. The crowd was dead silent, even the crickets had stopped chirping. Finally Oberon turned to him and smiled a rue smile. “I fear you have us trapped. For the love we bear our daughter we cannot refuse you. We believe we have not the ability to save her, but neither have we tried. This is our shame and must be rectified. We accept the terms of the deal.” Oberon held out his hand and Michael quickly shook it. Michael felt a weight settle on his shoulders, a powerful binding of his fate to that of his quest. With it came a kind of calm, a sense that he had a purpose, a confidence in the righteousness of his quest and his own nobility. He had shown up a king and queen and pride flowed through his being. The king and queen shifted uncomfortably before him. “Then I will be on my way, princess’s to save and such.” Michael said. He could never have said such a thing to beings such as these before, but now, he felt alive in a way he had never known. He turned to board the train. “Michael, please one more moment.” Oberon’s thick voice said. Michael turned back to them. “Allow me to offer this…gift for your honesty.” He drew forth his blade, and the air was filled with light. The blade was completely formed of fire and Michael could feel the heat on his skin. Oberon sheathed the sword and removed his belt. He held it out to Michael. “This sword is made from the summer sun. It will strike true in even the clumsiest of hands. Please take it.” Oberon said. Michael reached out and took the weapon. He placed the belt on his waist and felt it adjust to his size. “I thank you.” Michael said and bowed his head. “Michael, I also have a gift.” The queen said. She walked up to him and whispered in his ear. “Should you find our daughter and secure her safety, you must simply will the wind to carry you home and a quick and safe passage you shall have.” She blew softly on his ear and Michael felt a cool breeze sweep around him then. It left him invigorated and anxious to leave. “Thank you.” He whispered back. “Good luck, Michael. We eagerly await your return.” Oberon said stiffly before turning and walking back from whence he came. Titania lingered a few seconds longer, her silvery eyes studying Michael, before she smiled, winked, and followed her husband. The music began in earnest again and all those who had only seconds before stood in captive audience lost interest in him. They went back to dancing and singing, an endless party with no apparent purpose. Michael shook his head and boarded the train. The doors closed behind him and the train began to move. Michael willed it towards Aria and the train sped up. Soon enough he left the forest and reentered a dark tunnel. He held his hand forward and the light from his hand shone forward, a beacon light illuminating the path before him. He sped along the darkness, deeper and deeper into a pit of shadows and fear. He could make out shadows moving all along the edges of his light, shapes squirming and crawling in the blackness. Surprisingly, he felt strangely calm, serene even, as the light from his hand burned through the darkness ahead. He was coming for Aria, and woe to whatever got in his way. The tunnel narrowed until Michael could see that the walls were only a few scant inches from the sides of the train. The light ahead of him showed a massive stone wall blocking the way. The end of the tunnel, he had ridden the Spiral to the end. He could feel in his heart that Aria was somewhere on the other side, but he couldn’t see any kind of doorway or path through. A heavy booming laughter echoed in the caverns around him. “Go home Michael, she is mine.” The voice said, each syllable reverberating off the walls and echoing a hundred times over. He couldn’t see a way around the wall, but he knew of a way through. He willed the train to go faster. If he couldn’t get around it, he would plow through whatever got in his way. The train sped up to move at a rate Michael could barely comprehend and he held on tight. The wall was seconds from him. The train shook with a thunderous rumble and stone flew all around him as the train barreled through the wall. It felt as if his arms were being ripped off as the force of the train colliding with the wall went through his body. The tracks had ended at the wall and the train was now skidding and sliding along the smooth stone floor with an appalling screech. He could see dreadful shapes in the darkness being cut down and smashed by the runaway train. The train had slowed considerably and Michael saw another stone wall up ahead. He knew it wasn’t going to go through and it would probably explode. He turned and ran towards the back of the train as fast as he could. He heard the puck in his head. “A puck’s gift, a thread so soft and supple, can withstand tremendous damage, a cocoon or a bubble.” An idea came to him then and as he ran he drew forth the silver strand that the puck had given him. It wiggled and curled of it’s volition in his hands and he felt it reach out and connect to his mind. Michael didn’t know if this would work, but he didn’t seem to have any other options. Just as the train hit the wall he jumped from the back of the train. He willed the silver cord to extend, much as he’d seen the puck do to the woman on the train, and felt the incredibly soft thread circle around his body, faster and faster until it covered him from head to toe. He landed on the ground encircled and protected from the impact by the silver thread and rolled along the ground. He could hear the explosion as the train hit the wall. When he stopped rolling, the thread zipped back into itself and he stood up. He held up his hand, shining light throughout the darkness. Creatures skittered out of its reach and Michael took a deep breathe. “Michael!” a voice yelled. Michael looked to his left and saw another light shining brightly in the darkness. Aria. She was chained to the floor, much as she had been in his dreams. A deep pit surrounded her on all sides. Michael ran towards her, and heard the beasts behind him and around him, give chase. The edge of the pit was perilously close and Michael held out his hand holding the silver thread, willing it forward. It shot out and quick as lightning began weaving a bridge across the pit. He ran over it at full speed, the thread weaving the path across only inches before his falling footsteps. Aria was struggling desperately at the chains, but couldn’t break them. Michael reached down and pulled out the flaming sword, and with a strength and skill unknown to him brought it down shattering one of the chains. His upstroke severed the other one. Aria threw her arms around him. “I knew you’d make it.” She said. “I made a promise.” He said and smiled at her. A look of wonder came to her face then and she smiled back. She looked so beautiful that Michael couldn’t resist and he kissed her. Her arms tightened around his neck and she pulled him close, her lips locked with his. Michael felt a searing heat course through him, and felt completely at home. Aria’s arms, the arms of a princess, his greatest desire and everything he had ever wished for. They parted and smiled at each other again. The deep laughter echoed throughout the cavern again. “Fools.” The voice snarled and stepping out of the shadows of the pit, a demonic being threw back its head and laughed. Its skin was the color of ashen soot and its eyes glowed a dark blood red. There were two large rams horns protruding from the sides of its head and a ring of spines jutted out from its neck. Hundreds of tiny spiders swarmed across its body and a dozen chains made of the blackest metal emerged from its skin, tethered by hooks buried deep in its flesh. The chains began to flail around, rattling and whipping the ground in loud thumps. “A boy pretending to be a hero. How delicious.” The being said. Michael stepped forward his sword in hand and drew the silver strand back from the bridge. It zipped up into itself and he readied his weapon. He knew he was no swordsman, but the blade seemed to be ready for whatever was coming. Michael could feel the blade bonding with him until it seemed like merely an extension of his arm. Aria stood behind him, her hand on his shoulder, feeding light throughout the cavern, driving the darkness back. She seemed to shine like the sun and Michael could see for miles. The shadow creatures ran from the light, but the monstrous being before him didn’t seem fazed. It stepped forward. “She was to be a gift for my father, or should I say our father? But now, I think I’ll eat her myself.” The demonic man strode forward, the chains slamming into the ground before him, sending small chunks of stone spraying into the air. Michael readied himself and when the time was right, swung his sword of fire through the air. It passed right through the chains, melting them instantly and the demonic man screamed in pain. Michael rushed forward and slammed his shoulder into the man’s midsection, knocking him back and onto the ground, but covering Michael in dozens of the little spiders. They began biting at his flesh, little pinpricks of pain emerged across his body. He heard Aria murmuring behind him and felt a wave of heat cover him. The little spiders shriveled up and died. The demonic man stood up and flexed its shoulders. “Brother, that’s not very nice.” It said and before Michael could react the remaining chains all swung forward at once, wrapping around his arms and legs and dragging him towards the demon. The beast opened its mouth and roared. Michael could see row upon row of rotting black teeth in its mouth and a bright pink tongue that darted around uncontrollably. Just before the demon was able to sink its teeth into him, Michael freed his arm and brought the flaming sword up, burying it in the demons stomach. It screeched in pain and the chains released Michael. He pushed forward shoving the sword ever deeper into the blackened and dead flesh. Black oily blood spilled forth onto his arms, and just as Michael was about to push the sword into the demons shriveled heart, the chains jerked out towards Aria and slammed into her chest. She screamed and flew off the edge of the pit, rapidly disappearing into the darkness. Michael ripped the blade loose from its flesh and ran across the platform, his left hand already outstretched, willing the silver thread to catch her. It shot out and lassoed around her waist stopping her fall, but dragging Michael along the ground until he was scant inches from the edge of the pit. He teetered back and forth on the edge before gaining his balance, but Aria still hung dangling thirty or so feet below. The shadow beast chuckled and Michael looked over his shoulder to see the wound he had given the demon knit up before his eyes. “Michael, you know I am your brother. You can see that, can’t you? We have the same mother, the same father. After they crossed, and you were still missing, they wanted another child. They got me. I doubt I was what they were expecting, but I’ve tried my best to replace you in their memories. But now, the prodigal son is returned, it seems. Why do you fight it Michael? Come over to our side, embrace the fear, become a nightmare and rule a realm of terror and darkness forever. Let her fall, that’s all you have to do.” The beast took a step towards him. Michael’s gut tightened and he knew that this beast was telling the truth, that he was in his kingdom right now, and that they were related. He felt his brother reach into his mind and disturbing thoughts filled it. It would be so simple to let her fall, to take stock in this realm and the darkness. He felt his hold on the thread slip until he was only holding onto the very tip of it. Aria screamed as she jerked another few feet downward and Michael felt her fear wash through him. It tasted sickeningly delicious and he craved more of it. He looked down at her, so terrified and so helpless. He knew then the full power of fear, a power to control others like he had been controlled all his life. A power to do as you willed and damn everyone else. It felt wonderful. His brother was standing behind him now, caressing his shoulders lovingly. “You feel it don’t you. It feels…” Michael could feel his brother shake in bliss behind him. “Ecstatic.” Michael watched as one shadowy arm reached down to the thread. “Let her go and join us.” His brother said and Michael felt a cloud as black as night sweep into his mind. Aria looked up at him, her golden eyes shining and whispered “I believe in you.” Michael released the thread and watched Aria fall… The look of complete shock on her face is something even years later he would never be able to forgive himself for. The look of betrayal and hurt, even though only momentary, was that horrendous to him. It was a simple matter to release the thread and will it to extend and grab hold of the black iron binding that used to hold her to the floor, but her face for that one split second, as gravity took hold of her, would haunt his dreams for the rest of his life. As the thread extended on his command to keep Aria safe, Michael turned around and with all his might, swung the blade in a mighty arc, trails of fire blazing through the air. He clove through his hideous brothers swollen neck, severing his head from his shoulders and saw the lifeless body of shadow and fear disintegrate into rapidly rotting lumps of mangled and burned flesh. Michael rushed to the thread and willed it to pull Aria up. She came zipping over the edge of the chasm and Michael rushed to her. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.” He repeated over and over as she clung to him with a fierce passion. He stroked her hair gently and held her close. “I thought you had turned.” She sobbed into his shoulder. “I almost did,” he said “but you saved me. I guess even hero’s need help after all.” She nuzzled her head into his shoulder, her light illuminating the void around them. “Thank you for saving me.” “I could never let any harm come to you. We’ve been apart all these years, I won’t lose you again.” He said and thought of Titania’s gift. He willed the wind to take them home. A refreshing breeze flowed through the cavern and swirled around them as they clasped hold of each other. “It’s time to go home Aria.” The wind picked up speed, faster and faster, until they were encased in a mighty cyclone. It picked them up off the ground and carried them fast as the thunder across the cavern and out the tunnel. They were safe at last. The wedding ceremony was an extravagant affair. Dreamborn from the furthest reaches of the Dream Lands attended. The tale of the returned hero and the rescued princess spread far and wide and it seemed everyone wanted to see the couple. They were married under the starry sky with Mother Luna smiling down at them. Oberon walked Aria down the aisle amid a haunting melody played on pipes of reed and glass. Titania had a special wedding gown commissioned for Aria. It was made from the very essence of a stray ray of sunlight. Aria positively glowed and she could be seen for miles and miles away. None could say if it was the gown or Aria herself from whence the light emanated. They exchanged their vows and drew breath to the beating of one heart. True to their word Oberon and Titania welcomed Michael into their kingdom as their own son and as the happy couple left for their honeymoon in a golden carriage drawn by silver winged horses, a puck was heard to remark to no one in particular, “From whence does heroism come, is it something inborn, a heritage or birthright, a mantle always worn? Or rather is it learned, something picked up along the way, a noble state of mind, a daring courageous display? A puck will never know, a puck could never care, as long as good men thrive, evil should beware. A hero shall arise, shining forth honesty and light, to chase the terrors away, away into the night. At present a puck has said, all a puck could hope to say, it’s late and well past bed, a puck must be away. Good night and fare thee well, our fairy tale has been told, sleep tight where you dwell, and let your hopes and dreams unfold.” The End. They say the sweet is never as sweet without the sour. So where's my sweet? |
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| © Copyright 2007 aaron woodside - All Rights Reserved | |||
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ivordavies Senior Member
since 2007-01-10
Posts 739Chester, England |
Read this when I had had a long day and was tired.... and it still held my attention! Interesting and entertaining. As a poet, I admired greatly your use of rhyme in the pucks narative. I found some of your excellent descriptive passages a little long winded, but this may have been due to my tiredness. Enjoyed the read, thanks.... Ivor The moment created this second, is a moment that's going to last. |
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Assassin_of_Verse Member
since 2007-10-23
Posts 330that So Cal |
A beautiful princess, a forgotten hero, and a great evil, what more could a dreamer ask for? I can totally relate to Michael, who's always reading and dreaming. I was both sad and happy when I finished. This was a wonderful tale that sparked my imagination. Thanks for posting! We are each of us angels with only one wing. And we can only fly by embracing each other. |
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aaron woodside Member
since 2001-09-26
Posts 256 |
Thank you both. I'm surprised anyone responded to this, had it up for a few months and no one said anything. I write for myself, but I'm not going to lie, having someone else say they like what I've written, is the biggest compliment you can give me. Thank you again. They say the sweet is never as sweet without the sour. So where's my sweet? |
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Vintage_wings New Member
since 2007-11-26
Posts 4South Carolina, USA |
Enjoyed it greatly Aaron. A good story. |
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littlefairy Member
since 2007-08-06
Posts 51New York |
This is really good actually. I was caught by it. I could almost feel your passion through the story. I guess i say that because i write also but you have a gift and wrote a totally amazing story. Awesome read. Keep it up. I’m good during the day. But at night I wait.I wait for the one who’ll never return. |
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miscellanea Member Elite
since 2004-06-24
Posts 4060OH |
aaron, I read some of this the other day, enjoying it thoroughly. I didn't manage to find uninterrupted time to finish it and don't know when that time will come, but I thought, I too, would commend you on your writing. Nice! miscellanea |
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