Torn Fragility

THE DOLE OF THE KING'S DAUGHTER
by: Oscar Wilde
EVEN stars in the still water,
And seven in the sky;
Seven sins on the King's daughter,
Deep in her soul to lie.

Red roses at her feet,
(Roses are red in her red-gold hair)
And O where her bosom and girdle meet
Red roses are hidden there.

Fair is the knight who lieth slain
Amid the rush and reed,
See the lean fishes that are fain
Upon dead men to feed.

Sweet is the page that lieth there,
(Cloth of gold is goodly prey,)
See the black ravens in the air,
Black, O black as the night are they.

What do they there so stark and dead?
(There is blood upon her hand)
Why are the lilies flecked with red?
(There is blood on the river sand.)



Why am I doing this? What do I want to achieve? Is it to prove to myself that someone needs me? Does Max need me?

I wonder…what he really thinks about me.

I had no idea what I had just done, how or why. Why was I here again? Who was I doing this for? I tried to remember my own name but couldn’t. I tried to panic, but couldn’t.

I was floating like a dowdy feather through velvet darkness. Everything was so soothing and the desperate busy voice in the back of my mind stilled and went completely silent. But something marred this new found peace. Something had created another plane to this seemingly never ending darkness. I alighted upon a cobblestoned path and with feather light steps began to walk along it, while the numbness of my thoughts slowly dissipated as colourful emotion invaded it. But I could still not recall my name or purpose here. Nevertheless, following the path gave me something to do and when I came upon a locked cell door I continued as if nothing was there.

“Rose,” something sighed and came closer to the iron bars that entrapped it. Light spilled in through a tiny window but the light could not penetrate far enough for me to see the prisoner of the cell.

Who was it speaking to? This moving mass of darkness? But not the kind of velvety darkness from before but a darkness that stained, like spilled wine. Why did the scene seem so familiar and why did the name evoke something fluttering in my chest? The numbness was slowly leaving me, yet it was after a few moments of silent staring that I slowly approached the bars and the darkness behind it.

“I thought I told you to stay away?” the darkness growled.

“Who are you?” I asked peering in, trying to make out what it was. “Why would I want to stay away?”
The darkness laughed, a deep rumbling laugh that set the ground shaking. “I don’t want you, Talia, I want her! What’s the use of her pretty face if the soul behind it gets replaced with your twisted excuse for one?” It sounded half amused and half raged as it beat around in its cell and retreated further away from me.

“Help me,” I said quietly, not knowing why I said it.

The darkness was suddenly right in front of me, just behind the bars. An extension of its mass curled towards me and formed a wavering shadow hand that lifted towards my cheek. But it slipped and the hand passed like cool air through my skin only to reform on the other end.

“I am not even granted touch,” the darkness muttered bitterly.

“Who are you?” I asked again, watching the hand in fascination as it tried, unsuccessfully, to grab a lock of my hair.

The darkness chuckled. “I will soon be the new Maximillian Smith, but unfortunately my new title will come with a price.”

Max? Max? It was just on the edge of my mind, slipping away elusively.

“And what is that?” I asked, sure to have my purpose here clarified.

The hand drew back. “Not having you, Rose, my little artist who made me laugh.”

My knees buckled and I shook as I slid to floor. Memory came back sluggishly and then it was suddenly all there. “My name’s Rose. I want to become a famous artist. I’m unhappy and I’m supposed to be finding…” my head lifted up and I stared into two very human eyes. “You.”

“Me? Are you here to destroy me? Is my host unsatisfied with my behaviour as of late?” the voice mocked. “How can you harm me when you, invading someone else’s mind, are as vulnerable as a new born babe?”

“But we’re not just in his mind are we? We’re half in your world too…besides,” I reached out my arms through the bars towards who I now knew as Not-Max. “I’m here to free you.”

The arms I grabbed were suddenly substantial, flesh and blood, warm to the touch. And the bars crashed down around us, disintegrating into tiny black fluttering creatures that died under the full on light of a bright fey sun.

Not-Max, or I should rather say, the real Max, cried into my shoulder while I slowly wrapped my arms around his bare back as the light became brighter and brighter.

It seemed like hours later when his shuddering form finally relaxed and he fell asleep in my arms, his mass of dark curls spilling out around his head while curling leafy vines gently grew over him in an intertwining web. For once I trusted the fey side of me and gradually pulled myself away from him and tried to find my way back to my body and safety. And as his mind sprang to full consciousness I couldn’t carve my path out or I would disturb his sleeping state. But to return back I had to risk going back the way I had come into that place that numbed my emotions and swept away my memories.

It was a risk I had to take.

And it was a risk Talia had been hoping I would take. I thought that as soon as I was swallowed up by the darkness and saw a glimpse of the real her.



On a beautiful day with a solid blue sky and a soft warm wind sweeping over the grass a group of children ran past a teenage boy and girl lying on the thick green grass beneath an overhanging tree. The couple seemed deep asleep, lying facing each other, their skin dappled sunlight, their faces trusting. The children laughed and giggled, wondering how people could sleep on such a wonderful summer day, and went their way. One girl didn’t follow her friends but stayed behind to take another look at the fairy tale like scene and she noticed with a start that both had tear tracks running down their faces. Her friends called her and with a quick glance backward she ran after them, caught up in their games.

And the couple slept on, caught up in their own dreams.