La Nocturne

Aria slumped and leaned her head against the rough wood grain of the closet door. She’d been unceremoniously locked in there among decaying brooms and brushes for what felt like days; alternately pounding on the door and yelling incendiary things or pleading for mercy, or slouched against the wall in a fit of despairing. The tiny space wrought havoc on her nerves – she did not like any type of confinement. Now she stared apathetically at a chink in the wall where a family of light-bugs nested, glowing yellow-orange like a candle flame. It was the only light in the room, and left oddly coloured afterimages clinging to her retinas.

Her belly spasmed in hunger, but Aria would not eat the light-bugs. The first reason was practical. The fuller her belly was, the darker the room would be, and light was one of the few things keeping her sane. The second reason was one of humanity. She couldn’t separate a family, no matter how small the members. It was true that these creatures did not have the mental capacity to grasp the idea of a family, or even feel love, but here principle trumped scientific fact; she was morally opposed. The final reason was due to a flaw in her character. Hunger and suffering made her feel nobler, so here she welcomed a reason to preen her feathers. Sitting in the dim light, listening to the plaints of her stomach, a little-known part of her was secretly proud of her hunger and her trials.

Aria’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footfalls on stone from the corridor outside. Tentatively she tapped on the door, but did not cry for help or vituperate her bitterness. Abruptly the door was flung open; light flooded the space, silhouetting Rhodesia’s angular form. Before Aria had a chance to speak, the Undine grabbed her and stood her roughly on her feet. Squinting in the brightness, Aria had trouble processing the Faerie’s words. “…Fancy yourself very lucky indeed, because we’ve found ourselves your replacement.” The girl could only blink stupidly at these words as she fully realized what they meant.

“Yes, that’s right – you’re going back to your world. Now come with me before I can see you get too happy.” Aria followed the Faerie’s lead docilely for the first time as she was yanked down the hallway. She would not speak a word or make a resistant motion for fear that Rhodesia would change her mind after all. But as they passed through the main room she caught a glimpse of a figure lying on a couch that looked very familiar. Inadvertently, Aria cried, “Stop!” and wrested herself from Rhodesia’s grip to fall beside the pale girl stretched out on the divan.

Tears sprung to her eyes at the sight of her little sister. She clutched at Elaine’s cold hands, cupped her fingers around her pallid cheeks, and let her tears fall liberally onto Elaine’s coachman suit. Aria wondered at why she would be wearing such an outfit, but it was a small matter. “What did you do to her?” she demanded of the Undines, voice trembling.

“Save your dramatics,” replied Spira crossly. “We didn’t do a thing to her; she willingly gave herself to us, so what reason would we have to harm her? She simply fainted, is all. Human girls faint, do they not?”

“She looks very unwell,” Aria said distractedly. “Feel how cold her hands are, and look how thin she is.” Her hand on Elaine’s chest, she panicked, “I can hardly feel her heart beating. Maybe she needs air,” and set about loosening the buttons of her vest. She noticed the unusual pointed necklace her sister wore, but didn’t dwell on it.

“I hope she doesn’t have some chronic illness,” Potamia complained. “It would be so inconvenient for us to deal with.”

“Small wonder,” Aria retorted. “You never think of anyone except yourselves.” She’d quite forgotten of her resolution to not say anything offensive in order to gain her escape. No matter – if she were stuck there forever, at least it would be with Elaine. If her sister ever woke up, that was. She knelt down by Elaine’s ear and whispered pleading words.

But Potamia would not take kindly to insult. “Insolent human! How dare you. You know not how powerless you are against us. Dust – all you humans are nothing but dust – "

“I think it’s time she take her leave, then,” Spira interrupted.

“Exactly what I was thinking,” echoed Rhodesia, and grabbed Aria again. Try as Aria might, she couldn’t break loose of the Undine’s grip this time.

“Now, don’t fret, we’ll make sure your sister is fine,” Spira said with a dismissive gesture of her hand. “Savor your freedom and your world again, and know how deplorably lucky you are. It’s the least you can do for your sister.”

And with that, Aria was whisked from the room. She sobbed while being dragged along the innards of the great stone, for she would never again lay eyes on Elaine, she had lost her forever to the Faerie. How inordinately brave and selfless her sister was to sacrifice herself in this way! She’d never thought Elaine could be capable of such an act, and so wept harder. A part of her mind dully registered that they were now in the open ocean, zooming and flying through blackness and noise. A little more time, and they broke the surface of the water.

All was still. The stillness and quiet was a stark difference from the turbulent world of the ocean, and the feel of air instead of water was jarringly light on Aria's skin. In the west, the moon had dulled like an old coin and was slouching toward the horizon.

“Here you are,” announced Rhodesia. “Enjoy.” And she was gone.

Oxygen felt strange and novel in Aria’s lungs as she walked out of the receding waves and onto the sand, silver-gray under the old moon. She would need to breathe again; that would take some getting used to. Sighing deeply, she wiped tears from her swollen eyes and looked up in time to see a golden-haired woman in a long emerald-colored dress making her way down the shore toward her.

“Hello,” she called. “You must be the sister.”

“Yes, I’m Aria,” Aria called back. “May I ask who you are?”

“They call me the Lady of Elsinore Hill. Welcome back, dear.”

“Thank you…” There was something odd about the woman, Aria thought. But she couldn’t quite place it. It made her suspicious, though.

“Extraordinary, really extraordinary,” the Lady was murmuring, looking at Aria intently.

“What is it?” she asked warily.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a case like yours. First, being taken by the Faerie, then returned safely to the human world. Yes, there have been accounts of such, but never have I dealt so closely with this occurrence. Quite extraordinary.”

“…Who did you say you were again?”

The Lady smiled. “I’m an old woman who lives by herself in a humble residence. I specialize in necromancy and maintain some contact with the Faerie, being half Faerie myself. Your sister came to me in the hope that I could revive you from the dead, but your spirit was not among theirs, leading me to conclude that you were taken by the Faerie. I then facilitated your return for your sister’s offering herself to the Undines.”

“Oh. I see. Thank you.” Try as she might, though, Aria just couldn’t bring herself to like the woman.

“And your highly unusual situation poses some new problems now that you are back, does it not? For example, how will you explain to everybody how you’re miraculously back from the dead? It would cause quite a sensation – and that’s saying the least. Of course no would believe you if you said you were kidnapped by Faeries.”

“Probably they will think it was a miracle of God.”

“Oh yes, this God fellow again. In any case. You are probably exhausted from all you’ve been through. Come with me back to the Hill, then you can rest for a bit, get your head back.”

As the Lady spoke these words, Aria noticed the curious way her eyes gleamed. Something was going on that she hadn’t the slightest wish to be part of. Her trust in the Lady dwindled from little to none at all. “I’m sorry, I can’t stop and rest. I really must get home as quickly as possible.”

“Oh, I understand completely. It is only natural you would feel this way. But think of your health – surely you see the benefit of at least a brief nap before your journey. And besides,” here her voice turned colder, “you haven’t a clue where in England you are right now – or even if you are in England; perhaps you are in France or Iceland. But I can see you home. I know how to get back to London.”

It was almost a threat. She did not want to, but a part of Aria grew frightened toward the Lady. “I suppose you’re right,” she muttered grudgingly. “I’ll go back with you – but only for an hour.” And I willnot be sleeping, she silently resolved.

“I knew you’d see the light,” the Lady replied, and smiled in a way that made the tiny hairs along Aria’s back inadvertently rise.