A New Cinderella
This lengthy post may be difficult to read due to the many paragraphs presented upon the page, though at this time, I do not have pictures to help break up these sentences. Later, I may read over this story again and attempt to either add pictures or break it up into a few posts. However, at the moment, I do not have the time needed to take care of this entry. I hope that you are still able to read what I have offered here.
In class, we discussed various versions of Cinderella. "Billy Beg and the Bull," "Cap O' Rushes," and "Vasilisa the Beautiful" were a few of the stories we read in our World of Stories book. Once we familiarized ourselves with many different tales (though, not all of them were Cinderella), we were given a blog assignment. Our prompt? Tell a new version of a fairy tale. Immediately, thoughts began to race through my head so I knew that I needed to tackle this task with my own version of Cinderella. Two of my characters, Tom and Adelaide, appear in a story that I am in the process of writing, but both play minor roles. I believed that it would be fun to thrust Adelaide into a Cinderella-esque story. She adapted nicely.
Their world exists within my mind, but I have not yet named the mythical location filled with fanciful creatures. This world is much like our own. There are different climates depending upon the region, humans have created civilizations, and different groups of humans belong to different ethnic and religious groups. However, there are also distinct differences. Dragons, trolls, elves, witches, vampires, werewolves, and mermaids all reside within this magical world. Some species of dragons are extinct, for they were hunted for their sturdy scaly skin while others still flourish in forests and upon mountaintops. Centaurs, while mostly uncivilized, tend to remain within small clans. Vile goblins terrorize villages and take great joy in pillaging. In this story, I introduced a small dragon (for a brief moment), a fairy, a witch, and an elf. The elves and the magical humans (witches and wizards) established monarchies in this world in order to govern their people. My fairies are based more on the older legends where they are closer related to demons than Tinker Bell. Tom Knox's name is taken from tommy-knocker. Depending on which legend one refers to, a tommy-knocker is either the spirit of a miner or a type of fairy. While Tom is not a tommy-knocker, but his name is a joke, for he hates these creatures. He also does not enjoy jokes about wearing tights and sprinkling fairy dust, especially since he does not sparkle (he firmly believes that real men should not sparkle). I created Drake six or seven years ago. Normally, he is not an elf, though he dearly wishes that he could be something magical. No, Drake is a video game obsessed college student who firmly believes that mythology is real. He was able to slip in here without much effort. Then again, due to time constraints, he did not make much of an appearance. If I go back and edit this, I'll add more.
I always found myself attracted to the idea of elemental magic. In this world, a witch may specialize in more than one element, though it is more common for a witch to focus on one element in particular. Fairies also specialize in different types of magic depending on where it lives and the type of fairy that it is.
In the world, depending upon the area, some people may dress more modern while others will wear older clothes. Adelaide wears a duster sweater. It is something she created herself and feels comfortable in. Her cousin wears large dresses.
Now that I have completed my babbling, I hope that you enjoy Mute Cinderella.
Mute Cinderella
Heat engulfed her as she pressed her rigid back against a rough wall. Wooden shelves laden with miscellaneous containers and cookware bit into her back, but she could not fathom focusing upon something so trivial as momentary pain. Not when the voices were growing angrier and, it terrified her to admit it, closer. She pressed a hand against her chest, splayed her fingers and closed her eyes tightly as she attempted to remember the essential steps she needed to take in order to breathe. In. Out. Inhale. Exhale. That seemed doable. She took a few breaths and shuddered. The usually crisp and fresh air that reached her lungs had grown heavy and bitter and rebelled against her attempt at respiration. A cough ripped through her chest and throat, shaking her small body against the cookware, causing some of the pottery to teeter precariously upon its perch. Her pale blue eyes snapped open and focused upon the flickering light peeking through the small gap between the closet door and the floor. Hiding here would not save her from the raging inferno already in pursuit.
She reached a hand toward the door, missed her goal a few times due to her trembling, and then managed to successfully open it just enough for her slender body to slip through the opening. Her palpitating heart quickened its beating as she scanned the room. It felt much warmer out here, almost as if the air itself were attempting to boil her alive. And it smelled awful. The scent of burning hair and other substances she would rather not analyze was enough to engage her gag reflex, but there was another, more nauseating odor trailing behind the obvious signs of a hungry fire. She smelled black magic.
"I found her!" A voice announced the newcomer before she saw his silhouette darken a portion of the flame. The evidently male figure stepped into the curtain of hungry fire and emerged completely unharmed. Several other individuals, all uniform in height and shape, followed. "It's Adelaide! The youngest!"
Adelaide clenched her hands into fists, her nails digging into the tender flesh of her palms. "What do you want from me?" As she spoke, she slipped one of her hands into the side pocket of her duster sweater and began to silently perform motions with several of her hidden fingers. "Where is mother?"
A painstakingly familiar chuckle sounding from behind the flames stilled her frantic fingers. Only one man in the kingdom guffawed with such careless abandon, placing emphasis at the beginning at each new burst of sound that left his broad chest. Memories flickered through her mind, taunting her with pictures of tranquil summers spent away from the flurry of activity that always seemed to accompany palace life. Her mother and father never sanctioned her fascination with the outside world when she pleaded for freedom, but whenever she approached with one man, both granted her permission to leave the royal grounds with little hesitation. This man. This wonderful, horrible man crossing the threshold, hands lifted and feet parted in a spell caster's stance. Mind reeling, she took a tentative step backwards and lifted her hand out from her pocket.
The man whose image still danced around in Adelaide's head silently stepped through the flame. His lips pulled into a large, lopsided grin. While his face still mimicked the pieces of memory that the princess cherished, his eyes showed no resemblance. That smile failed to reach his chilling gaze. "Addie," he murmured as he ambled closer, "you've grown so much."
"Do not speak to me!" Adelaide stumbled and quickly reached for the wall to correct herself. "Uncle... Uncle, how could you?" The words sounded fearful and feeble even to her own ears and she cursed herself for the weakness plaguing her heart. "Where is mother? Where is father? If you don't tell me, I'll--" Heat, more intense than anything she ever experienced, drew her body into a smothering embrace. Perspiration beaded upon her skin and pain prickled her arms and face. She closed her eyes, took a shallow breath, and rapped her fingers against the stone wall. Her now chapped lips began to move as if of their own accord, murmuring archaic words and sounds known to her race. On the last syllable, she opened her eyes and moved her arms in order to guide the energy coursing through her body. Her small frame shook as the scorching air in the room began to swirl and accumulate near the center of the room. The cyclonic gail tugged at her blonde hair, but she stood steady with her gaze focused upon her opponent. "Be gone!" She tilted her head and changed the angle of her arms, sending her creation toward her uncle and his, she assumed, friends.
"That's not very wise, dear Addie," her uncle chuckled, his brown eyes twinkling. The wind extinguished smaller masses of fire and one of the men who entered the room found himself in a new intimate relationship with the ceiling, but their leader did not sway. "Though, I must admit that you're getting stronger." He took another step. "You must learn to always watch your back."
Don't let him get to you... Adelaide chided herself as she pressed her back more firmly against the wall. Against a wall, you can't have anything come at you from behind. I may be cornered, but I can at least see what's coming. She slowly lowered her hands, inhaled to center herself, and then began to work through several motions for her next spell. In her rush, some of her shapes grew grew rounded in incorrect places and she did not notice the approach of something vile. A dark and serpentine creature coiled around her leg and constricted. A loud gasp slipped past her lips when she felt the phantom fingers tighten their hold upon her calf and she quickly attempted to jerk the limb away from its captor. Slowly, she turned her gaze toward her foot and ankle, but saw nothing peculiar. Her leg remained bare and she could once again move it back and forth. Puzzled, she shook her head and returned to her spell casting. Dipping her arm, she outlined large, flowing letters in the air with the index finger of her right hand. From her years of schooling, she comprehended the dangers of casting a powerful spell that incorporated both intricate drawings and long chants, but her opponents showed no signs of taking advantage of her temporary vulnerability. Those smirking faces and crossed arms portrayed arrogance and, perhaps, amusement.
She frowned and allowed her gaze to flit from one man's face to another's. Something isn't right here... She spoke another word, this one in its original Latin. Why aren't they doing any-- The thought came abruptly to a halt as she grew aware of several events transpiring in a matter of seconds that felt more like an eternity. Her mind took note of everything in sharp staccatos. A foul odor. Dying winds. A frigid embrace. A glance over her shoulder. Her shadow stifling her. Her uncle's face. A scream. Suddenly cut off. Darkness. Overwhelming darkness.
Adelaide's eyes snapped open and she sat upright upon her bed of hay, heart pounding. Glancing around the room, dirty as it was, offered some semblance of comfort and, soon, her heart began to slow and beat more regularly. Her bed of hay scratched at her skin and the barn smelled of manure and creatures, but after reliving her horrid memory of two years ago, she happily embraced her current lodgings. She straightened one of her legs, stretched out the muscle, and curled her toes. Upon discovering that nothing chose to remain asleep, she did the same to her other leg and then stood. Sunlight beamed through one of the cracked wooden boards above her, promising a lovely day. Smiling, she swept some of her hay away and patted the head of a cow before exiting the barn. She lifted a hand to shield her eyes from the sun as she gazed ahead at the large monument ahead of her. Though she still lived within her kingdom, the castle felt no closer to home than one of the random houses in the village. Not since her uncle crowned himself as king and she took the place as a servant.
"Dust mite! You overslept!"
Adelaide flinched and shook her head in silence. Mother nature graced her with a day of sunlight and pleasurable temperatures, but her cousin neither noticed nor cared. She self-consciously lifted her hands to her matted blonde hair and futilely raked through her pale locks with her fingers. Brooke was an attractive child and often received affection from family and peasants alike. What was once perceived as an adorable face matured over the years. Now, the slightly older girl boasted beauty and exuded the confidence that often accompanied loveliness. Her short, brunette hair sheened in the sunlight as she walked. Her pale skin looked soft as silk, smooth as cream. Next to the scars upon Adelaide's throat and cheek, the tangles in her hair, the sack she used as clothing, and the dirt and dust sticking to her skin, Brooke looked even more beautiful.
"Didn't you hear me? You overslept. Who else is going to take care of my dress?" Brooke rested a hand upon her hip and narrowed her eyes. "Well?"
Confusion spread across Adelaide's face as she took in both her cousin's words and body language. She offered a small, hesitant smile, and moved her lips.
The illusion of beauty often shattered when one showed anger and Brooke was no exception. Her nose wrinkled in disgust and her lips curled against her teeth as she sneered. "Speak louder. What? Did a cat run off with your tongue?" Adelaide held her quivering lips closed tightly. Brooke smirked knowingly and continued, "That's right. You can't speak." Not since that fateful night that changed the princess' life for good.
Adelaide smiled brightly, though she did not feel joy in her heart, and accompanied her cousin to the castle. Crossing the threshold nearly removed the feigned joy from her face. Wooden furniture still decorated many of the rooms and the throne remained in place. If she closed her eyes, she could still detect the faint smell of herbs and plants that her mother loved so much. There were many memories living within the rooms and if she allowed herself to daydream, she could almost see herself dancing with her father in the great hall or sitting at a table with a tutor at her side and a large book sitting opened before her. With enough concentration, she could rid herself of the changes made since her fall from royalty. The blink of an eye could remove her uncle's crest from the banners hanging upon the wall and replace it with her father's symbol. Another blink would remove the strange men occupying the palace. Sometimes, she enjoyed losing herself in her thoughts and imagining what life would be like if she still held a position of power. If she sat on the throne, she could aim to help her people in the same way that her father once had. Her father. Her lip trembled again and she mentally shook herself. Now was not the time for that. It was two years ago.
The two young women ascended a spiral staircase, strolled down a hallway, and entered a room filled with many looms, fabric, and sewing supplies. Some fabric already hung upon a mannequin and more or less represented a dress if Adelaide were to squint her eyes and tilt her head to one side and then the other. It took great effort, but once her eyes were almost completely closed, she supposed that she could envision a beautiful aquamarine creation. That was a start.
Brooke stepped behind her and gave the back of Adelaide's head a smack. "Don't just stare at it. Do something. I need this by tonight and you already overslept."
Nodding slowly, and rubbing the back of her head, Adelaide hurried to the fabric's side, slid the fine material between her fingers, and looked over her shoulder. She mouthed, "Tonight?"
"Mute and deaf, are we now?" Brooke sat in a chair and daintily crossed her legs. "Yes, tonight. If you didn't oversleep, you wouldn't have missed the courier that arrived this morning. Prince Drake Tinehtele is having a ball this evening. If all goes well, we will wed. After all, out of all the elves, he is the most handsome."
Adelaide stopped her fretting and stared down at the mannequin. Hearing the name of her good childhood friend sparked some sort of emotion within her, but she could not comprehend what it was she felt exactly. That's right... she thought, He is a prince. And we are at that age... She quickly turned around and mouthed, "May I come? It's been so long..."
Brooke snorted and shook her head. "For one thing, I don't read flapping lips. And another, you're not good enough to be seen by public. What makes you think a prince would want to see a marred face such as yours?" She stood from her seat and exited the room, leaving Adelaide alone with her thoughts.
With no one to talk to and a task at hand, Adelaide found she had little choice but to give in to her cousin's demands if she wished to avoid conversing with her murderous uncle. She knew the other girl's measurements by heart--it was difficult not to memorize simple numbers when Brooke bragged about her body more often than not--and the fabric was already partially cut so the beginning of her craft needed little effort. The sewing itself proved far more difficult. The thread she spun earlier in the weak was fragile and snapped if she pulled too tightly. Pins were bent out of shape. Every so often, she would prick one of her fingers upon the sharp sewing needle. She was careful not to allow her weeping fingers to add blood to her work. If she accidentally allowed one drop to fall upon the dress-in-progress, Brooke would surely complain about clashing colors and demand a new dress.
Hours passed before Adelaide finished the dress, but once the final product was complete, she felt her chest swell with pride at a job well done. She carefully removed the article of clothing from its mannequin and skipped down the hallway. Her feet took two steps at a time on her way down the spiral staircase. Her excitement nearly landed her in an accident, but she noticed Brooke soon enough and managed to stop herself before she plowed into her cousin on the last step. She happily held out the dress, expecting, or rather, hoping for some praise, but received nothing of the sort.
"About time," Brooke snapped as she ripped the dress away from Adelaide. "I guess it will do." She turned on her heel, again leaving the blonde girl alone.
Adelaide silently sighed and sat upon the last of the staircase's steps. When she lived palace life as a member of royalty, she often attempted to escape the strict rules placed upon her by her parents and wished to live the life of a peasant. Balls were always stuffy events filled with even stuffier people. Now, more than ever, she wished to attend the royal gathering hosted by her old friend's family. She smiled at the irony and brushed off her makeshift clothing as she stood. Asking her uncle surely could not hurt matters. He truly was an awful man, but he allowed her to live for these last two years. He may have stolen her voice and limited her powers, but she was alive.
It did not take long for her to find her uncle. The stout man with a receding hairline sat at the table in the dining hall, eating what may have been a lunch or snack. At first, she was hit with the impulse to rest a hand upon his shoulder and smile at him while she spoke her mind, but common sense made her refrain from such actions. Instead, she stood two chairs away, lightly knocked upon the table with her knuckles, and waited for her uncle to look her way. Once his eyes made contact with hers, she mouthed, "May I attend the ball?"
The king watched her for a long while with calculating eyes. She feared that he either did not understand her or he simply did not care, but stood her ground. Eventually, his lips twitched into a lopsided smile. "Addie, Addie. Why ever would you wish to attend a ball? You always tried to run from them in the past."
She flinched at the use of her usual nickname and wrapped her arms around herself. "I heard that Drake..." For once, she was glad that her voice was silenced, for she was certain that the words would have come out all jumbled and nervous. "I mean... Prince Tinehtele... is having a..." Her lips parted, closed, parted, and closed again.
Her uncle's eyes twinkled and his chest rumbled with a chuckle. "Yes, I hear he is. You have many chores, Adie. If you were to go to the ball, who would finish them?" When Adelaide parted her lips, he leaned over and pressed a finger against them. She froze instantly. "You have more chores than you realize. First, I want you to start a fire in the great hall."
Adelaide frowned and tilted her head back in order to move her lips away from the man's touch. "If you wish for a fire, why not have someone use magic?" With her lips still obstructed from view by her uncle's finger, she was unsure if he would understand her, but she still waited for his answer.
"Isn't it much more fun to make a fire the traditional way?" The king moved his hand away from Adelaide's mouth and took his goblet into his hand. After taking a few sips, he again spoke. "You will find the wood already chopped and piled near the hearth. Go now."
Sensing that the chore did not compare at all to her cousin's demands, Adelaide felt both relief and suspicion, but she left the dining hall and proceeded toward the great hall. Once there, she noticed that her uncle had, indeed, told the truth. Stacked in a pyramid next to the fireplace were several logs. Her bare feet pattered against the stone floor as she walked over to the wood. Surely it's just as it appears... She told herself, though her heart did not trust her own words of comfort. It's just wood. This is just a fire. I suppose that it is cold in here... She picked up the first piece of wood and frowned down at the small log. Wait... It's wet... Her finger slid down one of the log's sides to test her theory and proved that her previous thought was true. She looked a bit more closely at the remainder of the pyramid and noticed that more seeped from the wood, forming a small puddle. Not possible... Wood can't hold water like this. It can't be truly wet. Not all the way through.
She brought the first log close to her ear and shook it. The water inside of the wood sloshed around and some droplets landed on her skin. Her previous hopes for an easy task were dampened by the strange pieces of wood sitting before her. Giving up now would be wise, but she yearned to attend the ball. She at least needed to try to start a fire. Shaking her head, she threw the pieces of wood onto the hearth. When the last one landed atop the others, she turned to traditional fire starting methods. First, she attempted to create a spark by using the friction created by rubbing two sticks together, but her efforts resulted in failure. From there, she moved on to running a rock across steel. Several sparks danced upon the metallic surfaces and a few fell ignited the logs, but each time a fire seemed to reach a healthy glow, it disappeared. This happened several times before she sat down on her heels and stared longingly at the drenched wood. Now, the hearth was flooded.
A creature peeked in through one of the many windows in the room and she turned her head to get a better look at the scaled beast. A dragon? The reptilian creature was no larger than one of the cats that roamed the streets of the kingdom's village and its wings appeared damaged, but she could not think of any other word to call it. Dragon. It was a dragon. She scuttled away from the hearth when the dragon hopped into the room and casually walked over to the fireplace. Its eyes remained on her even as it approached the hearth. Its slitted pupils discomforted her, but she did not run away. The creature sensed her emotions, but did not attack. Instead, it opened its mouth and breathed a stream of fire. The fire, hotter than any of the sparks that Adelaide could create, lit the logs instantly. Once or twice, it appeared as if the water would extinguish the flames, but in the end, the dragon's fire won. Adelaide's wide eyes reflected the fire in her pupils. She waved a shaky hand in thanks and the dragon flew toward the window with its gimpy wing. The creature barely cleared the opening.
With adrenaline coursing through her veins, Adelaide sprinted from the room and found her uncle in his throne room. Through hand motions, she told him that she lit the fire. Suspicion compelled the king to leave his seat and see for himself whether or not the blonde succeeded in her task. When he witnessed the bewitched wood burning, his eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. He dared not speak until he saw Adelaide once again asking if she could go to the ball. "No, Adelaide, you may not. For you have more chores. Tomorrow, we expect a very important duke and his wife to visit. They're enthusiastic about aesthetically pleasing kingdoms. Go out to the garden and gather some roses. Blue roses."
Adelaide nodded her head, mouthed a word that was better left silent, and then ran out to the garden. Beautiful flowers greeted her. Daffodils bowed their heads in greeting. Irises shivered in the breeze. Carnations blushed in different shades of pink. Red roses stood regally, daring for her to approach. She looked around for the elusive blue rose, but only found violets. She clenched her fists and raced to the garden's furthest reaches. There was not a blue rose in sight. Again, feeling her spirits drained, she leaned against a tree and slid down to sit. Moments later, a shadow moved between her face and the sun's light. She stiffened, fearing that the shadows were again coming to get her and this was one of her uncle's traps, but her insecurities were put to rest when she tilted her head back. In front of her stood a man so tall that she needed to crane her head back in order to see his face. He stood at least seven feet tall, truly a giant compared to her height of five feet.
"You." The flat voice matched the man's face. Both lacked emotion and interest. "You are bothersome."
Adelaide blinked several times and quirked a brow. Never before had she been approached by a man who spoke in monotone. She supposed that she would have felt bothered or offended by his words if he put some sort of emotion behind them, but given the way that he communicated, she felt as if she were hearing someone reading a book aloud rather than offering words that belonged to himself. She mouthed, "What do you mean?"
The tall man sighed and pointed to where she sat. "The grass. You are smothering each individual blade with your great weight." Adelaide blinked again. "Perhaps, I should speak in terms that even someone as mundane as you may comprehend. Please, refrain from killing these plants with your melancholy, do grow up, and move on with your life. If you do not attend a social event, will the world truly sign itself away to the apocalypse?"
It seemed as if emotion was not entirely needed in order to offend her. Those last words tickled a nerve. Even so, she stood and stepped onto the path. "How do you know me? Who are you?"
"Ah. Names are but labels. Insignificant when compared to important aspects in life. If you must label me, call me Tom. Tom Knox. But I do not know if I wish to grant you permission to use my name." Tom crouched next to the patch of grass that Adelaide once sat upon and stroked one of the blades with his fingers. "Tell me. What ails you? I care little, but by helping you, I may avoid further casualties in the future."
"Tom," Adelaide tried the name on her tongue. It was short and easy. Nothing like this man at all. "I need to find blue roses. But I don't see why you want to know..."
"How trivial," Tom replied in his usual monotonous voice. "Trite, really." He slowly swept a hand over the ground. The areas where his flesh touched buckled and churned. A bulb burst out of the ground, rose upon a stem with leaves and thorns, and then opened. Several more followed the first, each one first sprouting a bulb and then everything else typical of a rose. When the bulbs open, it was evident that the petals were blue. "Take these back to the castle if you must."
Adelaide's jaw dropped as she looked at the small sea of blue. She reached for one, but had her hand slapped away from the mysterious gardener. Wincing, she rubbed at her hand and began to piece together the puzzle that lay before her. The magic users that she met normally specialized in an element, though other substances were often thrown into the mix. Some could control wind such as herself. Others perfected the art of fire. Some dabbled in water and enjoyed bewitching firewood. Transformation, control over animals, black magic, and so-called white magic were all learned by people. She met a few earth users. However, she never heard of a witch or wizard growing a plant from nothing. That was a skill left to the fairy folk. This seven foot something man was a fairy. It was difficult to wrap her mind around.
"Why are you here?" Adelaide asked, forming each silent word carefully with her lips. She had heard of the fae. Her mother often told stories of their trickery and love for violence. They wielded words like swords and one who bargained with such creatures often did not notice betrayal until the piercing sword was removed to allow him or her to slowly bleed to death.
Tom watched her for a moment, still as a statue. His blue eyes glowed, revealing his otherworldly form. "Do you truly believe that a creature as noble as a dragon would come to a young girl's aid without payment? Even the smallest of beasts would rather not bother itself with a lesser species. It appears that I am to look after you. I would appreciate it if you demonstrated your gratitude through your actions. Do not ask any more questions. Come. We have a ball to prepare for. I am so very enthused."
Adelaide further furrowed her brow. She never met the fairy before and he already helped her with tasks given to her by the king. It was almost as if he were a sort of fairy godmother. Or, to be more precise, godfather. "What... do you mean?"
"Another inquiry. Witches truly are remarkably dull." Tom folded his arms and looked down at the girl. "Your uncle does not intend to allow a peasant to attend a royal ball. When you bring him blue roses, he will give you another task. Eventually, the ball will be upon us and you will be forbidden to attend. Rather than drag my assignment out, I would prefer to dress you and send you off. I'm proactive." Something about that monotone was really beginning to grate on her nerves. It made his sarcasm sound ten times worse.
Unable to argue, Adelaide walked with the strange fairy creature and entered the barn with him. She was surprised at the fact that he only commented on her living arrangements seventeen times before he began his work. Then again, she did tune him out when she counted to seventeen so she supposed that he could have given her more reasons to dislike her current company. She had great will power. Under Tom's guidance, she undressed herself, turned red from head to toe when she realized that she stood in the nude before a male, accidentally stepped on his foot when he asked if she was truly a seventeen-year-old female, and then waited for him to work his magic. The fairy did not need to utter words or use hand motions to make the flowers, leaves, and vines appear upon her body. Everything happened so quickly that within the time it took her to blink once, Adelaide found herself dressed in a one-of-a-kind dress. Her feet rested upon delicate shoes made of wood and dew drops. Even her hair, free of all its tangles, was pulled up and decorated with flowers. Never before had she felt so beautiful.
"Hn. Your voice remains a problem, but we shall explain that you are a shy individual and do not have much to say in the first place." Tom sighed in response to a glare from Adelaide. "That, princess, was a quip. I assumed that someone such as yourself had a sense of humor."
Tom escorted Adelaide to the ball in an unusual method and now, she would still rather forget the horrors that she saw on her journey. Though the fairy looked like an average, albeit tall, man demonic blood still flowed through her veins. It was strange, then, how the horrors he showed her were still better than the memories of her uncle's treachery. When she arrived at the Tinehtele kingdom, she stayed close to her fairy's side, much to his dismay. The location and dancing itself were as stuffy as she remembered, but she was happy to be here. Excitement thrummed at her veins. Traveling somewhere where one was not welcome was as exhilerating as it was depressing.
"Would you care to dance?" Adelaide mouthed to Tom.
"No. I do not."
She had to grin at that. It was to be expected. She turned to search the crowd for familiar faces when a hand dropped onto her shoulder.
"Hello. I don't believe that we've met," said a familiar voice, though now it sounded much deeper than it had several years ago when she last saw him. She touched the hand and turned around to face the prince. His emerald eyes still held the same spark of life she found so endearing and his reddish hair was better groomed now that he was older. His ears seemed a tad pointier, but she could not be sure. He asked, "May I have this dance?"
Adelaide offered her hand to him. It was fine that he did not recognize her. After all, she was older, could no longer sing, and had a few scars. Drake did not comment on her blemishes and danced with her for most of the night. Once or twice, she noticed Brooke and quickly turned her head to hide her face in the prince's shoulder. When the clock struck midnight, someone tapped her shoulder. She frowned and looked back to see her fairy escort giving her a disinterested expression.
"Flowers wither," Tom said. "It is not my job to keep your dress fashionable."
She looked down at her dress and noticed that several of the blossom's edges were browning. Leaves began to curl. Her face flushed with the realization that if she did not leave, she would soon be sharing much more than a dance with her childhood friend. She pulled away from Drake, but he caught her by the wrist.
"Wait," Drake looked into her eyes. "Don't go yet. I don't even know your name."
"Time flows in one direction. You cannot change that," Tom sighed softly.
"What the hell are you talking about? Come now, let's..." Drake pleaded with his eyes.
Adelaide regretfully pulled away from him and mouthed, "I'm sorry." She ran out of the room with Tom leisurely walking behind her. In her haste, she lost one of her fragile shoes on the staircase, but knew that she could not turn back for it. Tom returned her to her barn in silence. Once in the safety of an enclosed space, Adelaide quickly dragged her fingers through the brittle remains of her dress, removing it from her body. The leaves crinkled and the petals drooped as both fell to the ground. She dressed herself in her sack and ran out to the field to pick some of the blue roses for her uncle. It was best to act as if it took her this long to retrieve the elusive flower.
Two weeks passed before Adelaide heard anything more about the ball. She realized that she lost a shoe, but chose not to dwell on the loss of one half of her footwear. One day, while she was cleaning out the hearth, she heard a visitor arrive. At first, she paid no attention since commoners often visited the castle, but then she heard the prince's voice. Driven by curiosity, she crept to the throne room and peered around the corner. There, standing before the throne was her, no, the prince. Her cousin shouted something about "stupid wooden shoes" and threw something back at Drake. Adelaide saw it for a brief second before the object disappeared beneath a cloth. It was her shoe.
"Do you have any other young women here?" Drake's voice echoed off the walls, but the king pretended not to hear him. He took a moment to collect himself and smiled kindly. "Is there anyone else who this shoe may belong to?"
The king grumbled, "No. I told you no. I only have one daughter."
Adelaide knocked upon the door and all three pairs of eyes turned toward her. She blushed and hid behind the wall.
"Oh, she's only a servant," the king explained. "She means nothing."
The prince, however, noticed Adelaide's short height and blonde hair. He gestured for her to approach him. The shoe welcomed her foot as she stepped into it and, as further proof of her identity, she fetched the other part of the set.
"It's you," Drake breathed as he stroked one of Adelaide's cheeks. "Come back to the palace with me."
Adelaide's heart thumped heavily in her chest, but she agreed against her better judgment. They left together in a carriage, never looking back. Adelaide knew that she could not leave her past behind. It was more than likely that her uncle sent someone to follow them. She still could not access her voice or her powers. Drake did not recognize her as the girl he knew from childhood. Her fairy godfather had a poor sense of humor and, as she found out on her journey to the ball, was somewhat psychotic. "Happily ever after" was not yet within reach, but she did not mind. The phrase was cliché anyway. For now, she could simply enjoy sitting in a carriage with her cheek resting upon Drake's shoulder. She was content. This was a new chapter in her life.
