November-3
1983 Words
Having to do it all over again, foolish, foolish me! I would choose love. Because it is right, it is true, it is.
The clock struck midnight and a flurry of angst washed over me. I would change back to myself and needed to go. I had learned. Given a choice to change the past, I stayed true to my heart and my belief in love. The clock struck twice, and I pulled away from him. He looked confused as men often do when you stop kissing them, wondering what they had done wrong, when it was not what they were doing then but what they had already done or would do in the future.
“Good night, my prince.”
“Why do you go?” He held on to me.
“So you will come find me.” I pulled away and then stopped. The clock struck thrice. I wanted to do something different. I wanted to break through and leave a mark. I truly do not know why, but I wanted to give him one more chance.
I leaned forward and took two fingers and touched his forehead. “If you would love me, then do it. Truly, with all your heart, do it. Be true to me.”
I shifted for him and he saw me as I am now. I was breaking all the rules and transformed in front of him. The clock struck four. I aged in front of him and he pulled back, confused and unsure as to what was happening. I willed it and my gown vanished and he saw me as I am now with my simple clothing, long hair, pregnant, and several years older. I lost count of the chimes.
“Good-bye.” I turned around to go.
“How will I find you?” He looked distraught.
“Follow your heart.” I slipped out of my glass slippers and left one on the floor. I bent down and took the other in my hand. He stared at me with such amazement and wonder, like having seen life for the first time in all its glory and beauty. He saw me as I was, and I wanted to stay, but the game was up. The time had passed. I had made my choice.
I turned and ran. Over my shoulder I glanced and saw him bend down to pick up the glass slipper. He caressed it and I wondered. Would he change?
***
I awoke with a start, reached for my feet yet still wore my glass slippers. All had been a dream, yet parts had been real. Looking around, I did not recognize my surroundings. I lay in bed, and the room around me was filled with white. Next to me the Silver Fox rested with his eyes closed. His white hair, brushed and pulled back into a ponytail and the morning light shone on part of his face. He looked innocent and somewhat at peace.
A bird outside began to chirp and his one eye opened, staring back at me. “Good morning, my Chronicler.”
Wary, I propped myself up in bed and asked, “What do you want with me?”
“I am impressed with your abilities and must admit that you handled yourself well with the prince.” He rubbed his eyes and yawned. “Interesting choice. You still chose him and didn’t change your history. I’m surprised.”
He kicked his feet off the end of the bed and jumped up, stretching far to the ceiling. For a moment, he shifted and I could see the fox in him.
“Will you please take me home?”
“No, but I will answer your first question.” He glanced around the room in an absent-minded way and mumbled, “Where did I put the tea?” He fell to his knees and pulled a tray from underneath the bed. On it were some bread, cheese, strawberries, and a pot of tea.
He offered me some, and I accepted as I could not remember when I last had my fill. With bread crumbs tumbling onto the front of his shirt as he wrestled with a piece of bread, he said, “Do you know that I loved your mother so?”
“She told me a story about you, but I thought it a fable.”
“No, I am real and for years your mother and I would meet at night and be together in the Land of the Fey. I wanted her to come join me forever and become my bride, but she refused as she did not wish to abandon you.” He put his piece of bread down and poured himself a cup of tea. The steam rose toward the ceiling and he kept quiet.
I leaned forward, prepared to fight him, and asked, “Did you kill my mother?”
“Kill her? My dear Cinder girl, no!” He put the cup down and knelt by the side of the bed and held my hand, his face so close to mine that I backed away in fear. “I loved your mother. We loved each other and she was taken away from me and died.”
“If you love her, then why are you torturing me?” I pulled away from him.
“I wasn’t always like this. And now I need you to help me bring her back.”
“Bring her back? She has been dead for more than twelve years now!”
He laughed and shook his head. “You do not understand as you are not fully fey. Time is an ebb and flow. At times, I feel an eternity has passed since Justine has died, and yet sometimes, it’s as though she just left me.” He moved away from me and sat back down in his chair. “I waited for you to learn of your power, but you didn’t. I waited as you suffered under your stepmother, thinking she would be the one to force your magic to blossom, but again, you did not. Finally, I saw a spark in you after you met the prince, but nothing I tried could awaken the power within you. So I waited.”
“If I knew how to use all of my power, I would cast you out.” I spit at him and missed.
“Feisty, aren’t you, in the morning?” He grinned and showed me his fox teeth. “For you years passed, but still I waited, thinking that if I helped you as your Fairy Godmother that you would become your mother’s daughter and your powers would awaken. Yet again, you did not.”
“Truly, what do you want from me?”
“I already told you. I just don’t know if you’ll do it.” He put his arms out in front of him, imploring me. “I want you to bring back your mother.”
I watched him with distrust. “You tell me only half the truth.”
“You are very perceptive.” He leaned back in his chair and his arms fell at his side. “You will have to figure the rest out yourself.”
He winked at me and was gone.
***
The room shifted and I fell a long way in a deep, deep sleep. When I woke, I was in a cave and a small fire was at the opening. Outside it was snowing. I was cold. I had several blankets on me and as I oriented myself I tried to sit up and grunted. Renée heard me and came to my side. She held a bowl of warm broth and helped me sit up.
The snow came down softly outside and blew gently from a light wind. The trees looked magical as they were covered in the light fluff. I drank some of the broth and accepted a piece of hard bread.
“How are you feeling?” Renée touched my forehead and then eased back to sit beside me against the cave’s wall.
“A bit disoriented.” I pulled the blankets tightly around me and shivered. “How long have I been gone?”
“A full day.” Renée offered me more broth and I accepted.
We sat in silence for a few minutes as I continued to sip the broth. The fire crackled and I looked down, saw the glass slippers still on my feet and then saw my hand glowing with a faint sheen of phosphorescence. I stopped and held up my hand. Renée watched me but kept quiet.
“Why is my hand glowing?” I stopped drinking and put the bowl down. I looked around the cave and saw piles of clothing, stores of food, and my books. The most recent one glowed in the same light.
Renée took my hand and squeezed it. “You are a Chronicler. An extremely powerful one.”
I did not understand. Renée said, “Do not worry about your magic right now. We must plan on how to defeat him.”
I let it go. How long the Silver Fox would leave me alone was unknown to me. He could return at his whim. I needed to eat and rest so I could build up my strength.
I took another bite of the bread and while chewing asked, “What am I going to do?”
“If you do not break his hold on you, you will be lost to us and will join him forever in the faerie world.”
I dipped a piece of bread into the broth. “Do you want to know what happened to me?”
“No, I need not know.” She pointed over to the books. “You are a Chronicler. Everything’s being written. If I need to know, I can follow along.”
I started to ask a question, but Renée held up her hand. “You are being tested with your powers and you were tempted to stay. The Silver Fox preys not only on your weaknesses but your hopes and dreams.”
“I have tried to stop him. When he comes for me, there is nothing I can do to win against him.”
“Exactly.” Renée smiled and reached for my glowing hand and it went dark.
November 23
I am back writing after having rested. I have paged back through my diary and can see the dreams that I have lived through. It is all written down—even the Silver Fox’s words through me. He is coming back for me. I can feel it. I know that he will turn his eye back to me, and I do not have much time. The time that I do have I want to spend it with you. My beautiful daughter. My child and light. One day I hope you will find my books and that you will learn of me and be happy.
The early snow covered the ground, and I went for a walk yesterday with Renée. We have left the encampment and are on our own. Renée feared that I might hurt someone when I was not myself and the men wanted me far away as they saw me as a bad omen. Our moving here is for the best. There is a local tribe of Indians we met yesterday, and they are willing to trade with us and have offered assistance. With winter approaching, we will need their help to survive.
I think back about my last dream state with the Silver Fox and wonder. Did I really live through meeting the prince again? I wonder if he is searching for me as I asked him to do. Or, is everything only in my imagination and I am alone still and been forgotten? There was a time when I used to look at the prince and admire him, and how I loved him with all of my soul. But our years together have changed us, and yet a part of me still wishes that we could be happy.
Yet I did not change the past and decide not to be with the prince as I could have. Instead, I allowed history to happen as it ought, but I had to try by asking him to come for me. I wondered if he had changed and become a better man if I would be with him still. What would I do if I saw him walking up over the small hill, coming through the trees toward this cave? And then I laugh, as the prince I know would never live in a cave, for this dream I have created of him does not exist.
- Writer
