I am a prince. A ragged, wandering prince, hunted by my own father because I would not kill my younger brother and prove myself worthy of the throne. I believe in chivalry. I am also, unfortunately, quite naive.
I happen upon a meadow far within the tangled reaches of the Delirious Forest. In the meadow stands a beautiful white pillar. On the pillar sits a lady who, with her four pearly arms, is simultaneously painting, embroidering, reading, and braiding buttercups into her long, ebony tresses. I call out to her. She turns her face, revealing only a dark blue mask gilded with swan feathers. "If you with words wish to beguile, begone from hence, else, stay awhile,"she sings in the musical voice of a thousand nightengales. I am hopelessly enchanted with her already, though I know nothing of her. The thought shames me a little, and I blush. I cannot court a lady of whom I know nothing, whilst she also knows naught of my standing and family! And the guards...they draw ever closer, following the hounds' keen scent...if I lead them to her, who knows what they shall do? I couldn't hold them off forever...better to keep running. To lead them away.
"I'm sorry, milady. I bid you no harm intentionally, but am running in haste from cruel pursuers who would have me dead, and, if they caught sight of you, would not hesitate to harm you. So, much as I would like to stay and probe the air of mystery about you, my Pillared Lady, I must be off. I can but retrace my steps to another end, unless a miracle appears."
The lady puts down her needlework. She marks the place in her book. She sets the last buttercup in her braid, and, paintbrush in hand, descends the secret steps inside the pillar to emerge upon the meadow. "If perilous foes you wish to best, and death strikes quickly on your heels, then take this paint upon your chest, and though they slash, your wounds shall heal." She lifts my chain mail, loosens my jerkin, pulls my doublet from its proper place, and gently, with the tip of her brush, paints a small blue symbol on my chest, right over my heart. She replaces my clothing once the mark is dry, and whispers a string of foreign phrases that sound suspiciously like magic. My father would certainly have her burned...I, on the other hand, cannot get enough of being so near her. Her scent is pine and cedar; her hair, the color of night with the sheen of the moon down the long, glossy braid; her eyes, two perfect ovals of rich, brown earth...her dress moves with the shape and sound of whispering leaves upon the ground. She seems one with the forest and its wild enchantments. And yet...so young.Why is she here, all alone? With no one to protect her?
But then, perhaps she is not the one who needs protecting...
I thank her for the gift, and venture back down the trail to meet my fate. But instead of seeing my father and his soldiers racing on horseback down the winding forest path, I see a tall man in black, carrying a satchel full of herbs, heading toward the pillar. He hardly gives me a glance, brushing past with his herbs as if they are sacred. He offers them to the lady, and begins to sing to her poetry more beautiful than I could compose if I had a thousand dictionaries. As he sings, he begins a series of strange undulating hand motions which slowly bring the maiden nearer. He leans in, and his hands become claws.
"Stop, you ruffian!" I shout, breaking out from the brush. "Unhand her at once!" In response, the man in black merely takes off his glove and throws it down before me, in the rite of gauntlets.
"Very well, I accept your challenge!" I huff, drawing my trusty sword from its scabbard. "I shall defend the lady against you, and my father's guards, and anyone else who wishes to harm her! Have at you!"
I only wish I had known beforehand that he was a powerful Mage, and would fight with magic, not swords. I was no match for his power...
The monster at once begins to reveal his true shape, rising before me as a giant, if a very handsome and clever one. A stab of his fist rends the air, and his feet stomp massive cracks into the peaceful meadow. He digs his bare toes into the ground like roots as I burrow through the cracks cartoon-style to avoid his snapping pincers...and at last he laughs, his head that of a mockingbird. "I can feel your every vibration under my feet, boy," he cackles. "You cannot hide in the dirt forever. I will find you and shred you to bits with my claws! It will be terribly enjoyable to hear you scream. Then the witch and I will marry, before I sacrifice her on the sacred altar, to suck her powers dry and add them to my already considerable endowment."
So saying, he deftly burrows one growing arm under the shifting earth and plucks out my eye. He laughs, oh so loud, as he brings it to his lips and bites, and I feel the pain as if it is still connected. I lash out, grabbing his ankle and slashing desperately with my sword, but quick as a python, he wraps himself around me, pinning my arms to my sides, and with a grin, produces a giant pair of wire cutters. He proceeds, slowly, to cut off every one of my fingers. I scream, scream as he releases me and I drop to the ground and my legs fold under me, scream almost without realizing I haven't stopped once to breath in again, my mind burning with pain and the knowledge that I am lost. My life has been nothing but a short, painful battle against the inevitable downslide. I thought this was supposed to be a happy dream... But I shall make one last push for chivalry and good, before the ground takes my body into itself eternally. I stand, resolute though shaking, and, grasping the sword with my forearms as best I can, plunge it through the confident back of the already celebrating villain. As he whips around in response, cutting into my chest with the blade of his arm, I cry to the girl I do not really know:
"I love you!"
.......
I wake to the sound of her singing. There is sunlight. It smells sweet like oranges and flowers, and singing. I am not sure which sense is causing the others, or if they are all separate, but the medley soothes my aching mind and I slip once more into rest. When I next awaken, it is night. I try to move my shoulder, my arm...I try to wiggle my fingers. I feel nothing, and can see nothing, but the pleasant smell remains. Perhaps I am truly dead after all, and this is what happens after life in this realm. I have no way of knowing, but I hope the girl is all right...On what I venture to be the third day of my invaliditude, I muster the strength to explore my habitat. I find myself, my other self, hung before a fireplace to dry, complete with supersuit and glasses and all. She is snoring quite loudly, so I sneak past and continue exploring this strange abode, looking for the Pillared Lady, wondering where I truly am...I can hear the singing once more. I pass another version of myself, lazing in front of the television watching Doctor Who. There is another in the kitchen trying to cook scrambled eggs with escargo in them, mumbling about some recipe Amanda sent her. I vaguely know that I am connected to them all, as in every room I pass another personality trait, or whatever they are, but I do not care to investigate. I want only to follow the singing, find the lady, make sure she is safe.
At last, I see her. Sitting outside on the grass, under a large weeping willow tree. She is sewing.
I tentatively take off my shoes and make my way to her, sink down beside her. "Thank you for saving me," I say meekly, fingering the bandage around me chest. I don't know what I would have done, had I been left to my own devices. That must be some strong magic you have." I look down at my hands. The fingers are indeed re-attatched, but still I feel nothing.
The lady turns to me, and lifts up her mask-- and I see myself. "When on the other side, you play the game, you find you would have done exactly the same," she sings, stroking my face. Then, in an unprecedented normal voice: "You wouldn't have fared so well if you let your pride get ahead of you. The first time you attempted this, you got your head cut off and I was unable to save you." I am drawn aghast by her unprecedented statement.
"You mean to say...that I fought that fight before? That I've been here before?"
The Pillared Lady shrugs her shoulders, swinging up into the lower branches of the tree.
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