“One day, it will stop.” I shared to the outside through the open window. I wondered whoever was listening, would they care? Unlikely because, they were using me as a means to an end. I was a tool that spoke just loud enough for no one to hear and never enough for anyone to care about until it had served its purpose. I was an actual whisper in the wind. I looked outside hoping for someone to rescue me just like in the stories I read. A lady of noble descent would await her charming groom and they would battle past the evil that tried to separate them and with their love, they would banish the evil and reign triumph. But alas, that was a pipe dream for my humble powerless self. A powerless cry for help, for no one out there truly cared for me but myself. I was alone. But one day it would stop. Hopefully.
I wanted something that I could not attain.
I ate slowly. Lunch was fruits I had never seen or eaten before. This solidified my conclusion that I was no longer with the elves. I really was with the wolf king.
I was now trained in the arts of timing my meals, it gave me something to look forward to. Last night, I tried stepping onto the tray, hoping that it would disappear with me in tow, like a meal served for my unsuspecting kidnappers. But that didn’t work. The tray disappeared immediately I got off. My plan of the century, whisked away like a stolen bride and I was the failed plan and the stolen bride. I also had a new appreciation for the sleeping wolf king. His fur that is. It was so soft and warm, I found myself falling asleep on it. His breathing was like a lull. It rocked me so gently and softly to sleep. I felt less of a tool in those moments. I was just a girl sleeping on her ever destructive pillow. I would also talk to him. I whispered everything I had learned to him. I spoke of archery and how to correctly use the bow, just like how Aaron taught me, how to mend clothes, just like how Aaron taught me, how to play the harp, just like how Aaron taught me…
I spoke to him about Aaron.
“He’s nice once you get to know him. He says he can drink rivers and lakes of liquor at his age. I don’t know how but he says can. Don’t give him liquor when you see him. I’m afraid that he’ll die someday.” I reached out so very slowly and just like the fairy tales I had read indicated, I ran the palm of my hand on top of his head. Nothing happened when I did that. I did it again and still, nothing happened. That’s how I began to pet the wolf king as I spoke of my tragic yet interesting upbringing. I told him about the pranks Aaron used to pull on me. He would try to pull new ones, because I wasn’t much entertainment once I had experienced it the first time. I told him about the Elf Prince, I told him what Aaron said, that the prince was trying to get something out me.
“But now that I am safely kidnapped… it doesn’t matter,because once you wake up Mr. Wolf King, I lose value.”
I shared my thoughts with the sleeping wolf king and started moving him around, helping him stretch his paws for the sole purpose of rubbing his belly. The fur on his underside was even softer. It took a lot of energy seeing as the wolf king was a large mammal and I was but a small hybrid magical species with no magic to speak of.
“I don’t even know if I have magic you know. The only indicator were flowers and I don’t even see those growing anywhere here. I don’t think they can grow. This isn’t an ideal location.” Neither the flowers my magic grew nor I wanted to be here.
I also told the sleeping wolf king about my stories as a child, when I was first taken into the Elf King Graveyard.
“Aaron told me that I was a tiny thing. Smaller than any child he had seen. He told me that I didn’t cry. I just stared at things and with a sweet dimple smile, I laughed when I looked into his eyes.” I stared at the window pane. The story seemed to flow out of me seamlessly at this point.
“And when I smiled and laughed, the room seemed to have a scent of flowers and the next morning, flowers filled the ancient stone graveyard. All manner of magical flowers grew and one single baby did it with just a spark of joy.” I laughed cuddling to the soft fur of the wolf king.
“I was a baby and I could use magic at that point. Now I’m 18 years old and I wonder, if maybe I can make the flowers grow, you’ll wake up and then, you’ll let me go.” I was groggy, “Aaron said that I mainly grew a white flower called the Moonlight Vigil. He said that spirits loved that flower, because they could communicate with the living through it.”
I rubbed my face into his fur, “He said I grew it as a child. He even drew it for me. I stopped growing them when I was 6 for some reason. The flower is beautiful, white petals shimmering with…magic… like a dream…”
I don’t remember what I said after that, because I fell asleep and woke up to the moon high in the night sky and there on the window pane, speaking of an omen so grand,sparkling with magic and flourishing in the moonlight, was a flower with petals so white, it didn’t see real. I took in a deep breath.
“No” I whispered, for a tool does not speak and the moonlight vigil flower, sparkled like a nightmare to me. I was afraid.