City of IF

[Shady Stoat]

Shadows of the Mind
By Shady Stoat

Every community holds its little secrets – its own private lies. The Town of Great Lake, however, wore its deception proudly. A myriad stars shone their reflection into the ‘Great Lake’ that the original settlers had built around. Maybe it had been great once; now it was little more than a slow-moving pond – a holiday retreat for the waters of the fast-moving river that fed into and out of it.

The rest of the town also failed to live up to its grandiose title, for the main part. Wooden shacks littered the circumference of the waterway. Cows and sheep grazed and drank, grazed and drank their lives away. Once a week, the traders came into town, bringing bustle and excitement with them, only to disappear at sunset, taking it all away for six more days.

Further away from the waterway, though, were the places where the wealthier citizens lived. Homes built to more than one storey, with more than just nails and wood. From Mayor to midwife, beast master to banker, the people of import lived away from the smells of cow dung and rotting fish and midden piles.

Keli, youngest daughter of the herbalist and the schoolteacher, resided in one of the grandest houses. Its gardens were full of lavender, sage, thyme, chamomile; bitter tangs of aloe wafted through the air, warring for dominance with the sweet wild mint. Even poppies lifted their heads as the seasons permitted. Inside the walls, her parents housed not only the rest of her siblings, but a surrogate family of servants and casual labourers. Many people came and went from the house as the years went by. Not her, though. She was given all she could want, allowed to do anything she wished – as long as she did not wish to leave the grounds of the house.

Right now, she was sleeping in her attic room. Her dreams were not those of a sleepy backwater. They were savage and wild, invading her head with the brightness of blood, the scent of death. Monstrous black nightmares played and replayed, and each time they were the same. Each time she was helpless to stop them, helpless to change the outcome. All she could do was watch and suffer.

The moon shone in through the window, lighting up a beam diagonally across her bed and the edge of her cheek. The covers were tangled and her brow was furrowed with crease-lines of a deep and unchecked anxiety. She whimpered softly in her sleep, mouth working as if it wanted to find voice to shout for help. Even subconsciously, though, she held back from crying out. Some things became habit, even in dreams.

The nightmares held her under for nearly another hour. Only the moonlight shining into her eyes allowed her to escape from the inky depths of her terror. She woke, gasping and swathed in sweat. There was the usual moment of disorientation, as her mind tried frantically to work out where the dream ended and the reality began.

“I’m here,” she murmured, gripping the bedclothes as if to reassure herself. “This is real.”

It was too early to get up, but Keli could not bear the idea of going back to sleep again. The dreams were coming every night now. New or old, they were always horrible – and they were always true. Even though she couldn’t prove it, the knowledge ran deep inside her, way beyond the rational part of her mind. It was all true and there was nothing she could do about it.

-----------

The first vision. Keli remembered it all too clearly.

She was five. Back then she had shared a room with her big brother, Jakob (who, at the ripe old age of seven, thought that Keli was nothing more than a baby). She had woken up screaming, wetting the bed with terror. She hadn’t shut up, even when Jak had shaken her hard. He got scared enough to run to their parents. Not that he needed to; the entire household was crowded around her bed within two minutes.

“The lady in the hole,” she had sobbed, hysterically. “The lady in the hole. In the dark… she’s all alone. Please! It’s so cold. It’s so cold!”

Her father had dosed her with poppy juice and extract of maudlim root. She hadn’t been able to stop trembling even as the sedative threatened to take her back down again. At five, how could she describe the things that terrified her most? The feeling of small, damp creatures squirming inside her body; the wet smell of decay; the knowledge of being trapped, living, inside a prison of death?

It was just a bad dream, they said. Mother came and read stories to Keli as she lay in bed the following night, until she drifted off again.

The nightmare had come back. Five days of screaming in the night, of fighting against the next period of sleep. Still they haunted her, until her father took her to Uncle Esau’s farm ‘for a change of scenery’.

It had taken half an hour for her to find the covered well. Driven by an impulse she couldn’t understand, she had removed the stones on the well-cover, one by one, panting and fever-eyed. The slab itself had been too heavy for her, but she had tried until she bled. Finally, her father found her, still pushing at the well-cover, crying about ‘the lady in the hole.’

The mysterious disappearance of Uncle Esau’s first wife had been solved on that day. It was the same day that people had started to whisper and stare as she passed them. “Devil-child,” they called her, and “Evil eye.” When she had predicted the sheep-plague, two years later, it had only increased the villagers’ hostility towards her. The gypsy caravan, which had travelled through and kidnapped three of the townsfolk’s’ children, made muttering turn to shouting and threats of violence.

------------

Since then, two things had happened. The first was that Keli was no longer allowed to go out into the town. The second was that she stopped telling people about her dreams.

It was so unfair, though! She just saw the disasters, she didn’t cause them! How could people think that a plague was her fault? How could they blame it on her that someone had killed their wife and buried her in the swampy mud of a disused well? If she told people about her visions, then they called her the devil. If she didn’t tell them… and the vision came true anyway… then she just felt like one.

Keli sighed. It still wasn’t time to get up, but what else was there to do? She lit a candle and started to get dressed. As she turned, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror. In the wavering candle-light, she looked even paler than usual. Dark smudges under her eyes didn’t make her look any better. She was small and thin – the runt of the family – and, at fifteen, it looked unlikely that she would ever be taller than five foot nothing. She had mid-brown hair which lay depressingly straight across her shoulders, a nose that crooked slightly to the left and a mouth that seemed far too big to fit on such a narrow face. The eyes, at least, were an interesting shade of green with gold flecks, but that added to the ‘evil eye’ gossip, so it was nothing to be proud of after all. Sighing, she turned away.

It was going to be a busy day around the house today. Some dignitary or other from the city had landed in Great Lake, and all the more influential townspeople were expected to offer their hospitality and get acquainted. Today was her family’s turn. It promised to be a supreme bore, but it had its advantages. The busier she was, the less she could think about…

With a shake of her head, she dismissed the thought and headed down to the kitchens.

-------------

One disadvantage of never leaving the house was that you were always available for those dirty little chores that no-one else was inclined to do. All day long, Keli pounded dough, scrubbed doorsteps, sewed patches, shovelled hay, picked herbs, filled tubs with steaming water for baths and conveyed messages from one member of the household to another.

Still, it wasn’t enough. Her mind kept straying back to the most recent vision.

Each night it is the same, and yet different. There is always the cage, swinging from a hook, high in the ceiling. The aroma of incense burns her nostrils, almost but not quite hiding the more primitive stench beneath. There is no telling how big the room was, in the dim candlelight, but it feels huge. Huge and cold.

From the shadows, it begins. A low, repetitive chant; dozens of voices, all intoning words that she strains, and fails, to make sense of. A double drum beat accompanies the voices, the horrible punctuation of a thudding heart. Then, a knife at the edges of the darkness, cutting the rope which holds the cage.

That much of the vision never varies. Keli watches from above, an invisible spirit, unseen and impotent. She sees the captive within the cage. Sometimes it screams, other times it cringes silently with its back pressed against the bars, or makes the cage rock with its blows of defiance. Sometimes it is male, sometimes female, sometimes old, sometimes a mere child.

Tonight it is a male, fourteen years old, perhaps fifteen. His hair is the colour of desert sand and bruises discolour the freckly tan of his face. He crawls from one barred wall to the next, crying out for help to someone who will never come. Keli does nothing. She cannot help, she can only watch in the knowledge that this face, along with all the others, will be seared into her memory for ever. The faces change but the agony goes on.

There is always the sickening thud as the rope breaks and the cage hits the ground. There is no attempt by whoever wields the knife to slow the descent, and the captive lands, dazed and bruised. He is given no chance to recover. Figures in cold, white robes come forth. They open the cage door and the victim is dragged out by many hands. Throughout it all, the drum increases the tempo, thud-thud thud-thud thud-thud. It is the sound of panic, the sound of no escape. Every night Keli hears it and thinks that tonight, maybe tonight, it just might drive her crazy!

The boy kicks and screams, but his voice is hoarse and broken by now. The hooded figures bring forth ropes and tie him to a stone table. She has seen this makeshift altar so often now that the position of every rune is carved, not only into the stone, but into her memory. One is etched more often than all the others. At first glance it appears confusing; eye above flames. After many repetitions of this vision, though, Keli understands it completely. It says: ‘We find you and YOU WILL BURN!’

The knives come out from the recesses of each cloak. The boy’s eyes are wide open in terror. Only one knife makes the incision, though. With a single sweep, it lays open a wide gash across his stomach. The surrounding figures chant, softly, almost reverentially. Each of their knives is dipped into the boy’s blood as he struggles against the ropes. They draw the knives back until each blade is close to one hooded face and then, as one, the tormentors spit on the blades and let them clatter to the floor.

The boy flails on the altar, heaving his torso into an inverted ‘U’ in his efforts to somehow escape his fate. The ropes hold as they always do. The stone slab is getting slippery with the boy’s blood and still the cloaked onlookers stand, watching.

Only when the boy has exhausted himself does the lead figure reach into his robes again. He pulls out a stone, about the size of a fist. It is opaque and coloured a dull red with black veins running through it. In a single, fluid movement, his hand descends and slips the stone into the rip in the boy’s belly.

Who would have thought that a broken voice could let forth such a howl? Keli struggles not to watch, but she has to. The stone glows through the boy’s skin. Blackened flesh begins to appear around the lips of the wound and the smell of scorching fills the air. He writhes, beyond intelligence, beyond anything but the feel of his guts being eaten away by hot fire. Blood wells from the wounds on his wrists and ankles and still the glow spreads. To chest, to groin, a blackened hole shows tattered entrails and, in the heart of it all, the gem pulsing. The drums, still beating even now, are a tattoo of sound, each beat beginning before the echoes of the last have died away.

Past the hips it burns. Up to the shoulders. His screams are more like gurgles now, but still he communicates his agony. The noise cuts off abruptly as his trachea sears shut. The end is very near now and still the minions watch. Who are these people that can cause such suffering and do nothing, even to shorten it?

Finally, blessedly, the boy’s eyes glaze, either in death or unconsciousness. He is free of the torment, in a way that Keli cannot be. She watches as the gem burns burns burns its way through dead tissue. Finally, there is nothing left but ash and the gem. It glows so brightly now that the area around the altar is lit with a dark red aura. The leader of the cloaked ones picks up the gem and holds it reverentially aloft…

…the dream begins again.

-----------

By the time evening came around, Keli was physically and mentally exhausted. It didn’t help that the rest of her family kept stealing sidelong glances at her, their silent message all too clear: ‘Don’t say anything, don’t do anything, don’t even breathe if you can help it!’

She was a freak. She knew it, they knew it. Not that it helped being reminded of the fact every other minute!

The night was about to get worse. After hours of preparation, their visitors arrived – not just the official and his wife, as had been expected, but his complete entourage of servants, relatives and other hangers-on. Within minutes, everyone was bustling around, adding ingredients to the stock, finding more table spaces and stabling more horses than they comfortably had room for.

Keli glanced at the newcomer as she hastened through the entrance hall. He was tall, bull-chested and stocky, making him appear almost a giant. Sleek black hair was pulled into an unfashionably tight braid; that, and his bushy eyebrows that met in the middle, gave the impression of someone who was used to getting his own way.

As Keli headed up the stairs, the man confirmed her opinion. He turned to her father and spoke.

“Have someone take my bags to my room, man,” he grumbled in a deep baritone.

“Your… your room?” asked the herbalist, nonplussed.

“My wife and I will be staying here overnight.” The man spoke as if deliberately issuing a challenge. “If your servants cannot see to our needs, mine will have to stay here too. Otherwise, I shall send them back to your Town’s fine inn for the night.”

He spoke the word ‘fine’ with a hint of a sneer. Keli’s father drew himself upright, as if to protest, but his wife emerged from the kitchen.

“We are honoured, Lord,” she said, laying a hand on her husband’s shoulder, as if in warning.

Keli watched from the stairs, trying to make some sense of this, but her mother’s voice cut through her reverie.

“Keli. Bring in Lord Garth’s belongings. Take them to the Gable room and light the fire there. Go on, now.”

‘Anything to get me out of the way,’ she thought, as she trudged off. If she hadn’t been so wrapped up in self-pity, she might have noticed the intense look that Lord Garth gave her.

The baggage was easy enough to locate. Three heavy cases were fastened to the roof of the Lord’s carriage. Each one weighed enough to warrant its own journey to the guest room. By the time Keli had completed her task, her arms felt as if they were halfway out of their sockets. Then she turned her attention to lighting the hearth fire and airing the bed linen.

It was done far too soon. She slumped into an armchair, dreading the moment when she would have to go downstairs and join in. It was always this way. Sometimes she felt like it would have been better if they just kept her locked in the attic room and admitted to no-one that she was alive. Anything was better than the tense watchfulness of a family with secrets to hide.

Ah well, there was no putting it off. She rose and turned toward the doorway, only to pause again.

Unless… well, it was only good manners to unpack for their guests, wasn’t it? They would be tired and worse the wear for drink by the time they were ready to see their room. She would simply be doing them a kindness.

Pleased by that logic, Keli smiled for the first time that day. It was simple work to fold and hang the clothes, admiring their finery as she went. For a girl who was used to wearing the hand-me-downs of five elder siblings, each garment produced a mixture of admiration and envy. Not that the clothes were to her taste – someone seemed to have a decided penchant for hues of black, grey and bottle-green. Lord Garth obviously didn’t get to many parties, she thought with a grin.

She undid the clasps of the second case and froze. Lying on top of the many perfumes and a collection of the frilliest ladies underwear she had ever seen was a book. It leered at her, daring her to touch it.

Keli felt the blood drain from her face. She felt faint and nauseous. For a moment, she wondered if this was all part of the dream; if she would wake up at any moment. Moments passed, though, and the book was still there.

Its title was simple: Holy Book of Itharien.

The symbol directly underneath it was that of an eye above flames.

… you will burn …

It was real. It was happening.

… you will burn …

People were dying. This book was killing them. These people… these guests in her house… they were all part of the nightmare.

… you will burn …

“Keli! Supper is ready!”

Keli jumped as if she had been bitten. Her mother’s voice was harsh and anxious. It came from another reality entirely. A reality that she could no longer depend on.

Nevertheless, what else could she do but obey?

Somehow she forced herself to move. Her legs felt like they belonged to someone else and she had to consciously remind herself to breathe. Confusion lay in every direction. If only she could have some peace – some time to decide what was real, and what she could do about it!

The moment that she walked into the dining hall, she knew she would be allowed no such luxury. Lord Garth’s gaze was locked on to her in a distinctly calculating way. His wife, a doughy-skinned women of generous proportions, looked at her with obvious contempt.

Keli’s stomach was knotted with tension, but all she could think to do was sit down and act as if she hadn’t noticed anything amiss.

Mealtimes at the table were usually a noisy affair. People grabbed food quickly to get their share, they bickered, joked and gossiped between mouthfuls. Tonight, the tension was a tangible force, like pressure before a storm. Nobody made a move to eat or converse as Keli took the only remaining seat, directly across the table from Lord Garth.

“They call you ‘Evil Eye’, girl,” he said, as if commenting on the weather.

Keli stared at him, stupidly.

“I asked you a question!”

She flinched as he barked the words at her. Even then, some rebellious part of her brain was thinking, ‘no you didn’t, you made a statement’, but she knew better than to say it out loud. Instead, she tried:

“Not the people who know me well, Lord.”

The man snorted, cramming a roll of bread into his mouth as if scared it would otherwise be taken from him.

“And who knows you well, eh?” He sprayed crumbs across the table as he talked. “Nobody. But they shall know you, Miss. They shall come to know you very well indeed.”

Her mother’s voice cut in, sharp and shrill. “What is that supposed to mean?”

‘She’s frightened,” thought Keli in astonishment. ‘They’re all frightened of this man. Why?”

Lord Garth turned the ponderous force of his glare upon Keli’s mother.

“Madam. You know my task in the city. As Lord Justice, I intend to carry out my duties most thoroughly. All citizens will go through Trial, and Trial shall show us the truth. Only the guilty need fear.”

He turned back to his original prey. From the cold satisfaction of his sneer, Keli held no illusions as to what the outcome of this ‘Trial’ would mean for her.

Guilty

… you will burn …

She had to get out of here!

-------------

The meal dragged on for twenty minutes more before Keli could find an excuse to get away. Lord Garth never let up in that time; not once. He wrung the conversation out of her, like moisture from wet laundry. Always seeking, always taunting, telling her of the Trial in terms that left her filled with dread and yet still ignorant.

Finally, her father sent her to the wine cellar to refresh the supplies. It was an excuse to get her out of there and she knew it. Still, she was so grateful she could have cried.

Getting up quickly, she left the room and crossed the hall towards the cellar door. At the last minute, she ducked towards the stairs and ran lightly up them. There was maybe a quarter of an hour before she was missed. Keli knew she would have to act quickly. Who knew when, or even if, the next opportunity would come to escape?

She had no backpack, but Liam, her eldest brother, did. It took her no time at all to find and remove it from his room. This was no time to shrink from such a little thing as theft.

She scanned her attic room, moving quickly to take her few valuables. Other than a change of clothes, there really was very little. A skinning knife which she had won from Jakob in a shooting match. Her precious bow and quiver, which she had used well enough to win the knife. A flatcake, compliments of her greedy sister’s food cache. A flint, some candles, a sachet of lavender, another of tea. Her mother’s stash of emergency silver coins. Not much to base a new life on, but it was all she had.

Even those hasty preparations had taken longer than she had hoped. There was no more time, she had to go now! It was too risky to go out of the front door, past the dining hall. Anyone could see her. No, she could climb out through the window and slip away unnoticed.

Being small and wiry sometimes had its advantages. The ivy held as she climbed down it and the mortar beneath barely flaked. Keli jumped the last few feet and landed lightly.

Now that she was out of the house, she faced the next problem. Which way should she run? She could disappear in Shift City, but it lay twenty miles to the North. The villages to the South were much closer, but who could hide in a hamlet full of strangers? Of course, if she followed the road in either direction, she was going to make an easy target for anyone who chose to follow. Maybe it would be better to head cross-country for a while, and take the risk of getting lost.

As she stood there, trying to decide, a shuffling figure rounded the corner of the house. She froze, hardly daring to breathe as it shambled towards her – and past, heading for the stables.

Keli had to bite her lip to keep from screaming. As the boy (one of Lord Garth’s servants, by the look of him) had passed her, she had caught a glimpse of his face. A tanned face bedecked with freckles and framed by hair the colour of bleached sand.

‘It can’t be,” she thought, disbelievingly. ‘He’s dead – I saw him die in my dream!’

She watched his retreating back in disbelief. The boy was halfway to the stable before the thought occurred to her: If he wasn’t dead yet, then she had to be looking at the future. He would be caged… tied… cut… burned… and he knew nothing about it.

Indecision warred in her. Should she just run… or could she afford to give a warning to the servant of her enemy?

[Hyperion]

Good story... I knew another with that signature... He went by the name of Pilot...

[Smee]

Fantastic Stoat - an excellent read :D

I noticed no technicalities, so with pleasure I jump straight to the decision considerations. :)

"I can't know what my dream shows, it could be future, it could be past. That glowing rock could hold powers unpenetrable by my dreams. I dare not risk it.

I will need to risk crosscountry if only to buy me the chance to escape unnoticed. If I keep going across country until morning I can use the sun to help me find north and head straight for Shift City. There I can rest and think."

Happy Writing :D

[Shogun]

Whoa.....that is one long chapter, lucky for me I'm used to it(I won a dare stating that I would read 2 lord of the rings trioligy in one day).'

Very good chapter Wease!!

[Chinaren]

I thought you weren't here anymore Shogun!

Glad to see you around anyway!

:D

[Shady Stoat]

Yay! <starts to sing and dance around>

Somebody likes my story! Thanks for all the nice comments, guys. (although so far I've been called Shady, Stoat and... Weasel??) :lol:

I'd appreciate another option or two before I put up a poll though. I'll give it another couple of days, just in case anyone else is interested.

And sorry about the first chapter being so long. I had a lot of background to fit in. At the moment, the second chapter is looking a lot shorter... :)

[Hyperion]

I read the entire LOTR trilogy in one day, also on a dare. But I have the benifit of being a born speed-reader...

[Smee]

Quote: although so far I've been called Shady, Stoat and... Weasel??

My RL friends sometimes call me Weasel.

It goes....Smee...Smeezel...Weasel

and one of them actually sent me a text message saying...

Hey Weasel,

Just remember this quote...

[Insert your sig in here..]

If my nickname can transfer so easily to Weasel, then you've got no chance. :D

[Shogun]

I can come on once in a while. Anyways, I am also a speed reader, but I don't like literature very much....

[Hyperion]

Reading is boring! :lol: o-) Wait... Why am I here again.... what is this place?

[Shogun]

Fool! You are on [planet]zeebracharleyfatachiniwaterbuffalo....#12

[Dobs]

i vote to warn teh servant.

[Chinaren]

Good sacrifice scene man! Like it. Though this only shows what a sick and twisted person I really am I suppose.

Anyway, good start. I voted.

[Smee]

A vote to follow my plan from me. :D


Happy Writing. :)

[Shady Stoat]

Smee wrote: A vote to follow my plan from me. :D


Happy Writing. :)

o-) that was unexpected... <looks innocent>

[DukeReg]

Hi I'm new, don't hate me if I say something out of place. ;)

I think she should warn the boy. The passage says that she feels like a devil when bad things will happen and she doesn't warn people about them.
If she is going to begin a new life of her own making, it should be with a clear conscience, having done what she can to use her "evil eye" in a way that may (possibly, we don't really know) stop the horrible things that torment her from coming to pass.

[Shady Stoat]

DukeReg wrote: Hi I'm new, don't hate me if I say something out of place. ;)



ALL opinions are welcome, and equally valid here. And, just out of interest, I was new here a week ago too. Welcome to IF City, kiddo :D

[Shogun non-logged in]

Actually staoat here is very very touchy, he once tore a kid's head off because the kid said,"Your a staot, your supposed to be an animal! We are supposed to eat you!."

I t was a bloody bloody day at that school....

[Shogun non-logged in]

Shogun non-logged in wrote: Actually staoat here is very very touchy, he once tore a kid's head off because the kid said,"Your a staot, your supposed to be an animal! We are supposed to eat you!."

I t was a bloody bloody day at that school....

misspelled stoat, sorry!

[DukeReg]

Haha!
Nice to see a board with a sense of humour! A lot of people take my jokes seriously... :cool:

[Shady Stoat]

Quote: misspelled stoat, sorry!

<wipes blood surrpetitiously from her whiskers>

To Newbies I'm cuddly
A sweet little stoat
But mis-spell my name
And I'll go for yer throat!

[Smee]

LOL :D

You've taken the time,
To entertain with rhyme,
But please focus your head,
On the next chapter instead. :-)

[Shady Stoat]

Smee wrote: LOL :D

You've taken the time,
To entertain with rhyme,
But please focus your head,
On the next chapter instead. :-)

<grin>
It's under control
Just glance at the poll
New stories I'm writin'
Whilst jugular bitin'

[Phang]

Oh no, said Phang,
IF's taken to rhyme,
Like on TTF,
So it's surely Death Time!

The best I can do,
Is what lies before you,
Crap, I know,
but your opinions, please don't show!

The Wizard of Rhyme,
Infects us all,
SW-Dave,
In his darkened hall.

Creating riddles
To confuse us all
Of night-time Nemmie
and Oblivion what pwns all.

Like I said,
The best this ain't,
But say it's not good,
And the red walls - it's not paint!

Not that you'll
Be there to see
For by 'not paint' I mean blood
Yours, spilt by me.

By the way, good story :biggrin: lol
You can always warn the servant, but then again, there's not much chance he'll believe you so there is no matter...

[Shady Stoat]

Okay, the poll's over and the vote's a tie. I think I know of a way to combine the two options, so I'll start on it tomorrow. Chapter 2 coming soon, people :-)

[HarmonyFaith]

Can't wait! :-D