I slipped the sleeping potion into the crystal glass water, not enough to kill her, but just enough to make her sleep all throughout the play. Careful not to drop the bottle in my anxiety, I corked the bottle and tucked a lock of my short red hair back behind an ear, irritated that it continues to fall over my eyes. It was time to put my plan into action.
I lifted the tray up, hands quivering slightly, heart pounding like a drum. I walked out of the kitchen and down the hall.
I slip down the next hallway, walking from heel to toe, back stiff and proper, trying to look as though I fit into this aristocratic lifestyle. But I'm not really the prim and proper type. The hall winds away, bigger than any other I've ever seen, and I count the numbers on the doors, looking for the right one, hoping I wasn't lost.
234, 236, 238, 240. This was it...
I pause outside of the dressing room, inhale a mouthful of air as though it would be my last, and knock. There was a long pause before anyone answered, and I wonder vaguely if I had come to the wrong room. If my memory had not served me right. Wouldn't be the first or the last time.
"Come in!" Snaps the actress, and I open the door, trying hard not to spill the tainted water in my hurry. Her room is a disaster of roses, costumes, love letters, and what not from her performances in the past, littering each inch by inch of the room. She sits in front of a mirror, applying her make up. "What is it?" She says in her cold and crisp voice.
"Water...your instructor says to down some before the show... She says it'll help your voice." The young lady, 17, my age, slips me a condescending glance and then raises her eyebrows.
"I don't need you to sit there and preach!" She says and stands up little hands twisted into small fists. She approaches me and takes the little glass in her hand. I wonder if the sleeping potion might be too concentrated for the blandness of the water, and by the look on her face I was right. "That stuff was horrible!" She spits. "Poison!"
"Was it?" I say stiffly, nervousness growing up to catch me in the throat.
"Yes, terrible! And I have never seen you around here before either. Why does no one tell me these things? New house maids and awful water, whatever can plague me next?" Her voice begins to go from high to low like a boat on the ocean as the potent drink began to affect her thinking. Her eyes began to droop. "Tired." She said, only half aware of what she was saying.
"A cold maybe?" I offer. "Hope not, that would be bad right before you go on." I try to sound concerned. Her eyes flicker.
"What would you know about colds, peasant?" She spits, tossing her furious little head at me. One of her soft and hands shakes madly, and she puts it on the dresser next to her for support. "You did something to it, didn't you?" She says, jabbing a quivering finger at me, and I could tell she was trying hard not to vomit. "You little-"
"M-miss, you digress. Sit and relax. You may have a fever, and we wouldn't want you bumbling about on stage." I try to calm myself, hoping all the while that she wouldn't call for help.
"Don't touch me, maggot! I can find the seat on my-" Her legs gave out as sleep and sickness took hold. I hurriedly removed the costume she wore and left her in her underwear, trying hard to keep even a little of her modesty.
I then dragged the sleeping girl to a closet and shut her inside. I locked the door, putting a chair up against the handle to keep anyone from getting in or out. After I was certain the chair would hold, I start to do myself up, curling my hair into ringlets, wincing as I burn my scalp with the hot hair iron.
A knock at the door disrupts the silence in the room. Nervously I answer, heart beating quick.
"Who is it?" I call.
"You know silly!" The door opens and I turn to great my co-actress. She looks at me puzzled for a few moments, and I move into the hall so she can't see the barred up door. "But where is-" She begins.
"Sick." I say briskly. "A sudden cold I hear. Her voice is totally gone..." I pause a moment. " I am her understudy." I quickly add.
"I didn't know she even had an understudy." She looks me up and down with contempt. "Well, you had better do a good job of her part. Don't, and it might cost you your career." The young woman suddenly became very frosty and porcupine like. With that, she leaves down the hall and I retreat back into the dressing room.
"Don't count on seeing me act again anyway." I mutter under my breath, biting my lip at the soft sound of snoring coming from the closet.
The blaring lights of the stage hit my eyes, blinding me as I converse with another actor on stage. Lights are the least of my problems. I feel confident as I speak, but my eyes continue to wander to the audience in worry. I have one chance to pull this off. One chance.
I toss my hair around playfully as the flirtatious Miss. Maggrose, the lady I play, leans over to slip her would be suitor a note, stamped with official looking wax. I study the other actor's face for a brief moment, but find no resemblance between him and the man I search for.
"My dear lady!" Says the man playing the Youth Abelwood. "There is no need for such secrecy."
"I'm afraid that when you speak to me, everything must be kept secret." I say and stand up from the bench we are both sitting on. "Farewell Abelwood, and may our paths not cross again until the time is better suited for it." I turn and exist through stage right. A few moments later I can hear Abelwood's big court scene starting. I quickly change for the next scene with the help of a few stage hands before deciding to explore.
"Wait, you'll be on in nine minutes!" A stage hand whispers.
"Just a moment, I need some water. The next scene is a big one and I need to keep my voice up. I'll be back in a flash." I quickly leave before I encounter further questions.
I enter the grand castle's hallway, marveling at the sheer size of the interior. The actors and actresses are here performing for the nobles and royalty in the city, hoping to earn more recognition.
The castle of Rabanastre is a site and a half. Placed in the midst of this large and beautiful city filled with bustling people and shops of the most intriguing items, it stands proudly among them all. But my time of admiration is limited. I hoist the dress I wear, long and golden, up around my knees and hurry to the changing rooms in the hopes of finding the man I seek. I think I heard someone tell a fellow actor that they were going down that way.
Seven minutes until I'm back on.
I hurry down a long hallway and swing a right. The changing rooms. Finally.
All the doors are tightly closed, as they should be, and I hear no sound coming from them to suggest life on the other side. I walk down this hall a little more slowly than I should, watching my shadow walking adjacent to me on the wall. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as I feel eyes boring into it. I turn to see who is there, but find I am alone still.
A shiver runs up and down my spine, and I turn around, heart palpitating. I quicken pace a bit and look at each door, hoping to stumble across something. The lights in the hall are dim and cast eerie and twisted shadows on the faded navy blue carpet. The arching ceilings and pillars placed every so often loom above me, trying fiercely to add more fright into my heart.
Something doesn't feel right, and I cannot put my finger on what it may be. The air feels thick and heavy, not with scent, but with feeling. With energy. Again, I feel the eyes watching me, and it is all I can do to keep myself from glancing behind me, letting slip a scream.
I have about four minutes before I need to go back.
About to give up, I swing around to leave, but a spot on the carpet in front of me causes me to stop. I stoop down and softly dip my fingers in the carpet, feeling a wet substance cling to my finger tips. I lift them to my face and study the liquid. Blood. Heart racing even more, I stand up and comb the floor for more evidence of blood. I find more spots, like freckles, leading to a door, slightly ajar unlike the rest. The room inside is as black as pitch and I am lucky to have noticed the slight crack. I can feel myself freezing up in fear as I stare down the wood. With a shaky hand I knock softly.
"Hello? Is anyone in there?" No one speaks. "Hello? Sir? Miss?" Not a sound. I still listen, swallowing the nervous lump growing my throat. Cautiously, I push open the door, and find it will not swing all the way for something blocks the entrance. I look down and see a foot on the other side of the door. The foot belongs to a man who lies on the ground. Or the foot of someone who was once a man. He lies face up on the carpet, eyes wide, forever to stay there as the death mask of the forever sleep has taken him. His muscles appear tense, face paled, lips loosing their red to fade to blue. He had been dead for hours.
I look over the man and see his throat was slit, and he has other stabs in his chest. I am filled with his gruesome image and the horror of the situation makes me want to be sick. What scares me even more is that he is the man I was looking for, and him being dead could only mean one thing.
They've found me.
I back out of the room, a little numb. No matter how many times you see the dead, nothing really can prepare you for what may lie on the other side of that door.
Slowly, I turn and walk away, steps hurried, head bowed.
My retreat takes me back to the stage area, and it is not long before a stage hand whisks me inside and to stage left.
"You almost missed your cue!" She snaps in my ear. "Be more aware of the time!" I have hardly ten seconds to wait before I am pushed onto the stage by angry hands, and I almost trip. What am I to do? I am on stage and whom ever seeks me must be watching. How can I focus now?
"My dear sister!" Cries the man who plays my elder brother, Lasserius. "Where have you been? The hour grows later by the minute, and it was to my horror that I found you out of bed. Promise me that you were not with that scoundrel Abelwood again." My heart flutters a bit as I struggle for my line. I busy myself by giving him a most reproachful look and taking a seat by our pretend fire. Not something in the script I might add.
"Keep your nose out of my business, dear brother. It is mine and mine alone." I make up the lines as I go, basing them on a faint memory of the original ones. The actor looks a little shaky at my improvisation. I can hear somebody far off stage feeding me my lines, but I can't hear the words well enough to make them out.
"It is my business! You are not to be wandering with strange men who-" I cut him off in mid sentence, also improvisation.
"He is far from a stranger, I have known him for many summers and you know that as well as I. True?" I stand up angrily, but not for the sake of acting. It was to catch sight of a man sitting in the first row. I make out a tweed coat and shiny bald head. With a sinking feeling I realize who the man is. My main focus now is to get off the stage as soon as I can and run.
"You speak through the devil's own mouth!" The actor slaps me across the face and I pretend to jerk with pain. We are now back on the script and safe ground.
"Maybe it is you who are the devil!" I cry.
"I would not speak so my little sister." With a strong hand he brings my face up to his. "Speak to me in such a way again, and I will send you away to work for the army! Would you like that? Suffer our youngest brother's fate? Death by a steely sword and a metal bullet? Which ever hits you first? Not that I care, you ungrateful wretch of a woman!" His words are hissed like a snake, but just loud enough for the audience to hear.
"Die. A thousand times. Die. The man I love does not love me, and yet another would seek my hand. You know nothing of retches and vile servants. You are the devil, brother, not I." I breathe, and he lets go of my face before leaving the stage. My character fumes and curses under her breath before turning to the audience to speak. My eyes stare off into the blackness, speaking to no one but myself. The talking turns into a song. I sing well enough, nothing amazing, but it'll do for a play.
As it ends, the audience applauds with loud beats of their hands, and whistles in approval. I turn and leave the stage which darkens. I am not on for about twenty minutes now, and I have time to run.
"I have to go." I whisper to a stage hand. They turn to look at me with surprise and panic blossoming in their face.
"Go? You only just realize this now? Why didn't you tell someone before we got halfway through the play!" They snap and I shake my head.
"Last minute thing. Look I really have to go." I turn to leave but they catch me by the arm.
"And just who will play the part?!"
I shrug.
"You?" I hurry off and hear her last calling words to me to take off the dress, but I have no time. It is intermission and this will likely be the time when something will happen, for good or ill. I decide to take a back stair out of the castle, one I have not seen anyone use all night. I map out my direction in my head as I run from hall to hall, praying I won't bump into anyone. I run up a flight of stairs, dress hitched around my ankles and push open a door with my shoulder.
I still haven't shaken the feeling that someone is watching me, and as far as I can see there is no one in the maze of hallways but me. All the guests are below, even the guards. I turn left and then up another hall, not bothering to look at the large wall paintings spanning either side of me.
I come to a split in the maze, one hall leading right and the other left. I take the left one and run down it as far as I can until I am forced to turn right, heading for another staircase. At the base of the stair, I stop and look around. This looks nothing like the other parts of the castle I've been in. And then I hear a door close, either from above or the one I just came through, I cannot tell.
Heart thumping, I look back to the direction I just came in and then up to the floor above. I can hear voices from somewhere, hushed and barely audible. Feet walking seemingly on their own. I sprint up the stairs. My face is flushed and I'm out of breath from all this running. I don't know how much more I can take.
I reach the top of the stair and see a chain blocking the rest of the upper floors to guests. I look over my shoulder and I can now tell that the walkers are behind me. Rather than risk being caught and dragged back to acting, I duck under the chain and run along the corridor ahead of me, taking the first left I come to. All that runs ahead of me is a long passageway of doors leading to what, I do not know. Just then I hear the jingle of a chain move as someone shifts it, but just ever so slightly. Feeling all the muscles in my legs tense, ready to run again, I sprint down the length of the hall and stop at a door to try and open it. The door lets out a soft moan that does not carry far, and I slip inside the dimly illuminated room.
I stand in a circular chamber with a round and comfortable looking table in the middle. Chairs are pushes into the table's sides and the marble floor reflects the fire burning up in a glass light hanging from above. Maps and swords are draped from the walls and glass cases house helms and suits of armor that are neatly placed around the circular room. The chamber was incredibly large.
I walk further into the room, staring up at the arched ceiling painted with gold leaf which shimmers in the amber light. As I walk in awe, I didn't notice the table approaching and I bump into it softly. Startled, I look down on the beautifully carved wood and notice something glinting in the light. I reach out a hand and take it up. In my hand lay a small crystal blue dagger, about an inch and a half long. The dagger was strung on a silver chain, equally as beautiful. Holding the blue beauty up to the light, I watch it sparkle and send blue light dancing along the walls around. I string the silver chain and dagger around my neck, the blade disappearing under the dress's collar.
And it's then that I hear footsteps stopping outside the door. I look to it, heart beating so fast I think it might burst. Hurriedly, I look for a place to hide, but find only clear glass cases. And then I remember the table. I stoop down and slowly push away a few chairs so I can clamber beneath the wood and hide. Not a moment too soon either. The door slowly groans as two characters slip inside and shut the door. I peer between the chair legs to see who they are, but only see boots and legs. It is to my relief that I see that they are not the man I flee from or an accomplice. But just who are they?
"Are you sure it's here?" Says the whispered voice of a man.
"Positive. I feel it." Speaks the voice of a woman with a strange accent of another race. I listen as her shoes softly click upon the ground and stop in front of my chair. The man walks up next to her, his boots quieter still than hers.
"Then were would it be?" The man said interestedly. I stroke the chain around my neck protectively wondering if it was the dagger that they were seeking. Even if it was, it was mine now.
The lady takes a step back a moment and I quietly push myself backward as well, trying to blend into the darkness. My foot hits a chair, causing the hunk of wood to squeal along the ground a little.
"Do chairs usually move around on their own?" I hear the man ask quizzically with a touch of amusement in his voice. The woman next to him does not answer but stoops down to look under the table. I close my eyes, praying that I go unseen, melt into the darkness. But I do not vanish.
Chairs squeak out of place in a flurry of fast movement, and a strong hand fastens itself around my throat dragging me out from under the table. I choke, trying to breathe.
"Well, well, well, who do we have here?" Asks the man. I look onto my capture and take in the slightly tanned skin, piercing eyes, white flowing hair that falls far down her back in a mane like fashion, two large rabbit ears, and a slightly upturned nose. A viera.
"A hume." Says the viera.
"Obviously." The man says, coming to stand next to his friend. My eyes frantically go to the man's face and I half expect to see another viera, but it is just another hume. His eyes are a casual light brown, laid back and clever looking, his hair is a light chestnut color, short and spiky. His ears are covered in piercing, small hoops and hanging things, and his fingers dawn few rings. "And I believe she is an actor in the play. An actress I should say, my apologies." He studies my face a little and nods. "Indeed, and may I ask as to why you are sneaking around this place? Show starts in ten minutes." He folds his arms. The viera woman puts me down and watches me with reproach.
"Could ask you the same." I say in a slight rasp, feeling the skin at my throat.
"Good point." The man says.
"You had best be off back to the play." The viera says with a warning look to the man. "It is a long way from here to the stage." I nod, grateful to be let off so easily. I walk away.
"And how about we keep this meeting our little secret shall we?" The man says after me.
"Whatever." I say hurriedly and reach the door. With a swift tug, it opens and I slip out like a shadow, not looking back to the two I just left.
???'s POV
I look to Fran who's eye have just become a little narrower and watch as her ears twitch a little.
"She had it, didn't she?" I say bitterly, looking to the door that our new target just left. Fran nods.
"Indeed she does." Says Fran rather darkly. I smile a little.
"Typical is it not? Well, what shall we do about this little problem? Can't let her get away otherwise we'll never escape."
"Kidnap her then?" Fran looks a little doubtful about this.
"Maybe not kidnap her. Perhaps barter with her for the nethicite. And if worst comes to worst we can always kidnap her for it and leave her on some deserted island. Her singing voice will keep us entertained in the meantime." I joke. Fran is not amused.
"We must do what we must." She says and walks towards the door.
"I guess so." I follow to find our new made 'friend.'