Stone, a Fantasy fanfic - FictionPress.com

Author's Note: This is a slight revision on the story. Much thanks to Daydreamer17, who suggested the edit. Thank you very much, I really appreciate helpful criticism.
"In this room stood a little child,
And in this room this little child,
She would remain
Until someone might decide,
To dance this little child across this hall
Into a cold dark space
Where she might never trace her way
Across this crooked mile,
Across this crooked page"
--Dave Matthews Band, "Cry Freedom"

Days have melted into nights have melted into years. I’ve been in this cold, dark room as long as I can remember…Walls of stone, floors of stone, heart of stone. Imprisoned or hiding, I know not. It’s been far too long and I’ve forgotten.

The room is round, the window single and high. The walls and floors, and, presumably the high, high ceiling are of hard stone blocks. It’s like a castle (maybe it is.) If I stretch to my full height, reaching and straining…I can brush my cold fingers over the windowsill. Clouds of dust fall, swirling in the thin, weak sunlight. Sparkles, deceiving…it’s a secret treasure.

Alone, all alone. Once, it may have been different, but I no longer know. Exsistence itself is an illusion for me, a dream. I curl up on the cold, hard, stone floor, close my eyes, and I wake up.

Princess upon her throne of gold, scepter held with pride. Golden tresses spill over her shoulders, defining the curve of her soft, pale neck. Tendrils fall softly into her face, and she pushes them back, revealing pure blue eyes, and a china-doll complexion. She is beautiful, and she knows it. She is power, she is the sun. She shines and glows, and the people are drawn to her, to her beautiful smile, her blue, blue eyes, the spun gold of her magnificent mane. She lifts one delicate hand, adorned with a single ring, the stone the exact same shade as her eyes, the setting the shade of her hair, and gestures to the shadow by the door…

I shift in my sleep, my eyelids flutter, and my life changes…

Shadow creeping closer, fiery eyes burning, embers from the flames of hell itself, growing colder, colder. Draining her soul…Her skin withers, wrinkles, stretches taut over fragile bones. Her hair swirls, dark and cloudy, in a sudden wind. Her eyes roll back in her head, the whites themselves yellowing, ancient. She is fading, fading…Floating away on an ocean of cold, frothy waves…

I breathe deeply, sneezing softly at the swirling dust, fall into reality momentarily, huddle into myself and begin to live again…

Sailing on a magnificent ship of dark, majestic wood, she rests her hand on the rail. Her skin is tanned from her journey, days under the sun. her hair, black as shadow itself, blows gently in the sea breeze. Her eyes reflect the gray sea, a tint of blue mirroring the sea and sky. A strong breeze blows up, sprays water on her face. She shuts her eyes. Long, dark lashes rest on her soft cheek, and even as she smiles gently, a tear collects in those lashes and trails lazily down her face, to land on her hand. She tries to collect herself, but it is all too much. For soon she will be seeing him again…

A bird cries outside, startling me, almost bringing me back…

He leans close to her, and she can smell the sea on him. It is like morning and dusk mingling with fresh air, sea spray, and the scent of everything magical about the nautical life. He takes her hands, and she is warmed. He leans in, his breath warm on her neck, and his lips reach her. She is alive again…His fingers are tangled in her fiery red hair, his amber eyes looking deep into her emerald ones. "I love you," he whispers, and at last she has found her place, here in his arms…

An insistent banging sound…No, no. I don’t want to live in reality…I want to wake into dreams. Reality is the stone floor and the dust and the cold. The sound continues…I awake fully. Is it…? It is. Someone is knocking on the door. I rise, slightly lightheaded, dizzy…stagger to the door, call out, "It cannot be opened from in here…"

"Yes it can, my child."

"No…I have no key."

"You do not need a key."

"Of course I do…" I reach out and pull at the heavy door. Nothing. I dig my fingers into the crack between wall and door, and strain…

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, the door moves inward…

I am…

Free.

And facing a shadow, tall and dark, like in my dream…

"Do you mean to say," the shadow asks, "That in all these years, you never tried the door?"

"I-I thought I would need a key…"

Soft laughter.

"Come."

The shadow takes my hand, and pulls gently but insistently. Mesmerized, I follow, my feet making soft sounds on the dusty stone floor.

We walk for miles, down a long, cold stone corridor. I try repeatedly to see my companion’s face, but all I see is shadow.

At long last, we reach a door, like the one I hid behind for years, decades.

My companion reaches out and the door opens.

In the room…It is light, golden, warm…Five mirrors line the walls.

In the first: A throne, golden and waiting. I step towards it, and in the light reflected from the mirror, my hair is as gold as the sun, my eyes as blue as the sea under a clear sky.

In the second: Blackness, terror. I feel myself dying as I walk near.

In the third: A beautiful ship, upon a frothy ocean. I approach…can feel the sea spray, can see my reflection, my raven-black hair and gray eyes…

In the fourth: I can’t see myself at all…Only him. His eyes amber, wolf-like, and amazing. I turn. Could he possibly be my shadow-companion? Still, though, my companion is just that: shadow, nothing more.

Hesitating slightly, I approach the last mirror.

It is…a door…And behind the door… a room I know by heart, a room I remained in for countless decades…And in place of myself? A shadow…Turning, I adress my companion.

"Is that you or me? And what is this place?"

The shadow comes forward…I step back…but as the shadow steps into the warm, golden light, I can see…

The shadow is me.

"This place is your destiny. What would you choose?"

"Where do I belong?"

"That is for you to decide…You belong only where you put yourself."

I walked back to the first mirror…Am I a princess, with hair of gold, eyes of the summer sky?

The second mirror: I shudder, and turn away. I cannot face the fear.

The third mirror is enchanting…I can taste the bittersweet tear on the corner of my mouth, feel its drying trail on my cheek…

And the fourth…the closer I grow to it, the more drawn to it I feel. To feel his warm lips on my own…For those hands to be tangled in my hair…I sigh. My eyes close, and for a second, I can imagine his breath on my neck.

"I have made my decision."

The shadow that was me nodded.

"Choose your path, then."

I nodded, closed my eyes, and…

I turned, walking closer to the mirror I had chosen. I reached out to the glass, my fingers brushing familiar cold, though smoother than I was used to.

"Good-bye," I whispered.

I took one last look into his amber eyes, and walked into the fifth mirror.

I have been hiding all this time, after all.