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A Rising Star, Part Four
21
Any half decent soothsayer would have seen it coming a week ago, perhaps more,
but seeing the future had never been a strength of Nimue's. Still, an event
of much magnitude should have given her -some- warning. Everything had been
going so well, too; Camelot under her command, 'her' knights undoubtably close
to finding the Grail, she hadn't seen Merlyn in her dreams for a couple days
now. This, she told herself, was what came of not paying attention to politics.
She had often suspected that that had been how Merlyn had seen what was to come,
by paying attention, not any magical abilities.
Nimue sighed, looking around the library. There were way too many books for
her to take them all, and she doubted she would have wanted them all anyway.
The cover of the Book of the Sun was already packed, of course, and she wanted
to take some others, just in case she might need them, but none of them looked
like they would do her any good in the world outside.
Stupid King Arthur. Why couldn't he have waited until Nimue had the Grail, and
the Book of the Sun, till her got himself killed by his own son? And why couldn't
the messenger have gotten killed while trying to escape the battle afterwards?
More importantly, why hadn't she just killed him herself when she had seen him
coming? She may not have been able to see what he was going to say, but she
could feel that it was nothing good.
Finally, she grabbed a couple of the smaller books from one of the shelves she
could reach without a ladder, and hurried to her room. Disturbingly enough,
she had actually considered taking her toys with her, but what good would they
do her? Besides there hadn't been enough room... Even so, it made her nearly
want to cry to look around at all she had gotten since she had gotten rid of
Merlyn, knowing that she had to leave it all behind.
She had seen the way some of the knights had looked at her, and she knew that
this was probably not a good time to be the former apprentice of the advisor
to the now dead king, especially after all the power she had gotten Guinevere.
They probably thought she would try to become the next ruler of England. And
if they did, she had no doubt that they would be all too willing to kill her.
And she couldn't be on her guard all the time...
Moonlight streamed in through her window as she quickly put on her cloak, shouldered
the little bundle of things she had made up, and hurried through the dark, stone
passages that cut through the castle like veins, taking the least direct route
she could, not wanting to run into anyone. There were a few close calls, where
she heard footsteps and barely had time to duck into a nearby doorway before
she heard somebody walking past her, but for the most part, she was successful.
The thing that had worried her the most about this escape had been getting past
the sentries that patrolled the outside wall of the castle, watching for armies
approaching, though they would certainly notice her leaving as well. Luckily,
she had overheard a conversation between a couple of them, in which they mentioned
that they needed to bring up another keg from the cellars. In other times, Nim
might have kept that information hidden away, in case she ever needed to force
them to do anything for her, since they weren't supposed to be drinking while
on patrol, but it wouldn't quite as well with the king gone, and most likely
dead. It might still work, though she didn't feel too eager to test whether
or not they would take the opportunity to rid Camelot of a potential contender
for the throne.
So instead she had figured out where they had hidden the keg, and, when they
were all out patrolling, slipped a little sleeping powder from Merlyn's stores
in. By now, most, probably all, of them would be fast asleep. Sneaking around
the little old man that operated the drawbridge was easier, so she hadn't really
worried about that, nor about getting over the moat.
One of the first interesting, at least according to her, things that Merlyn
had taught her was levitation. Figuring out a way how to make herself fly had
been a little tougher, but turned out to just be a matter of amplifying the
spell by quite a few times, and using it on something flat. She didn't trust
the strength of the spell for very long, but the moat wasn't all that far across,
and so it should work. At least, she hoped it would.
She took her cloak back off, shivering a little as the cold night air reached
her skin. She had some clothes for warmer weather packed, but had only worn
a short sleeved dress, though she couldn't for the life of her remember why
now. Spreading the cloak out on the ground, she whispered a couple words, focusing
all of her inner energy onto the cloak and the words, connecting the two in
her mind. After a moment of uncertain flutters, the cloak rose into the air.
Nimue stepped onto it, repeating the words over and over, guiding the cloak
straight forward.
She had a little scare when she had made it about three-quarters of the way
across, when the cloak suddenly froze in mid air, but luckily it began moving
again after that moment had passed. She was glad to be across, however, with
her cloak around her shoulders again instead of under her feet. A quick glance
behind her was the only remorse she showed for leaving the place where she had
learned so much, the place she had all but ruled, for a few weeks anyway, and
then she was gone, heading into the deep fog of the valley beyond the mystical
fortress of Camelot, the one place she knew that she would never return to,
even if she lived until the end of the world.
Nimue yawned, her eyelids feeling as heavy as if they were weighted down by
stones. Just a little further, though, she knew, and there would be a little
village where she should be able to find a room, to get a little rest at least
before she had to start moving again. She couldn't wait too long, or else someone
would notice her absence, and start searching for her, and this town would most
likely be the first place they looked. Still, she couldn't bear to force herself
to go any further than it, so it would do.
Nim froze as she heard voices being carried on the wind from further along the
path, almost as clear as if she had been standing right beside those to whom
the voices belonged. One was familiar, though not enough for her to put a name
to it. It was the softer of the two, the weakest sounding.
"Surely a knight in the king's service has more gold about him than this,"
the other growled, and Nimue could practically see the blade held threateningly
in his hand, pointed at the knight's throat. "Tell me where it is, and
I may let you live, you filthy worm."
Nimue was half tempted to just let the knight get slaughtered - weren't they
always bragging about how they could get out of just such a deadly situation
as this? Perhaps this would be a good time for the knight, whoever it was, to
demonstrate. But something, compassion maybe, or a premonition, came over her,
and she knelt down in the dust of the road, tracing a few figures there with
her finger.
She slowly stood back up, feeling even more exhausted. Had she used too much
of her mystical energy? Would she be able to make it to the town? That would
just be too ironic, for her to die saving a person supposedly sworn to saving
the 'helpless' of the world, which was one word most people would use to describe
her, at least if all they were judging her by was her looks.
The thundering of hooves filled the air, though Nimue could still hear the bandit's
cursing as he turned to see the group of knights riding towards him and intended
victim. Nimue gave him enough time to sheathe his sword and run away before
continuing down the road.
The knight was injured quite badly, even Nimue could see that. He couldn't possibly
last much longer, and Nim knew that she didn't have enough energy left to do
anything for him. It would have been more merciful to simply let the bandit
finish him off, Nim thought sadly. Even a pompous knight deserved a quick death,
at least as opposed to this slow, and, by the look of blood spattered everywhere,
painful one.
"L-Lady," his voice spoke up, shocking Nimue a little. She had never
been called 'Lady' before... It had a nice ring to it, however. Still, the fact
that he was able to speak had been the thing that had shocked her the most.
She knelt down again, grimacing a little as the hem of her already dirt-stained
dress became soaked in blood. She no longer had a seamstress to obey her every
whim - she would have to take much better care of her clothes than this. "What
is it?" she asked him, not really expecting an answer.
"I-I've found it," he gasped, and then was interrupted by a coughing
fit. His hand weakly reached upwards, almost as if controlled by a muscle spasm,
and came away covered in blood. "I-I found the Holy G-Grail..."
22
Megan looked around nervously, wishing that it didn't feel like everybody was
staring at her. "You said we were going to your house," she whined,
for what was possibly the hundredth time. Cassie just smiled at her, which was
much nicer than some of the responses she had gotten before. "Please, I'll
do anything you want, just..."
"That's right, -Baby- Megan. You'll do whatever I want," Cassie smirked.
"And I don't need to agree to anything to get you to do it."
"Th-This is just stupid! They'll never let us in, you know."
Cassie just smiled at her, patting her on the bottom. Megan winced, not because
it hurt, even though it did, but because of her worst enemy doing something
so maternal to her. Not that Cassie meant it in a maternal way - no, she was
just doing it to be sadistic - but Megan had seen real mothers doing just such
a thing.
"What are you so worried about anyway? All you have to do is be your own
adorable little self... And we all know how good you are at that." Cassie's
smile turned into a glare, then switched back. "Now shut up, unless you
want another spanking."
Megan blushed, but kept her mouth closed. A spanking was the last thing she
needed right then. That had been nearly the first thing that Cassie had done
after they had left practice and came here, to the mall. Luckily, there weren't
very many people around, and Cassie made it quick so that she didn't get in
trouble in case the security guard walked by, but Meg's butt was still stinging
from it.
At one time, Megan would have liked to think that she could have kept Cassie
from doing stuff like that, but now she had an arm in a cast, she was nearly
helpless against her. And she wasn't too sure that even if both of her arms
had been healthy that she could have held her off for more than a minute, two
at the most. It was a scary thought.
But not as scary as what was about to happen.
"Come on, Meggie, it's time," Cassie suddenly exclaimed, grabbing
Megan's hand and half dragging her across the mall, to the entrance to a small
area behind the little stage that was hardly ever used, except for the one time
that some author had given a reading of her newest book there.
Ellen beckoned to the two of them, or at least that's what it seemed like she
was doing. It was hard to tell with the sleeping two year old she was holding
in her arms. "Hurry," she hissed, and Cassie gladly complied, all
but shoving Megan through the door.
There were clothes tossed all about the room, though the only life visible was
that of Ellen, her little sister, Cassie, and of course Megan. A few mirrors
were mounted on one wall, and there was another door, one that led up to the
stage.
"I think they're about ready to call us. I wish Kate would wake up... She's
probably gonna make us lose," Ellen lamented.
"Like you ever stood a chance against little Megan here," Cassie cooed,
tweaking Meg's cheek, something Megan had despised even when she had been a
real little girl. She started to pull away, but a voice came from above unexpectedly,
and she became more occupied watching Ellen, desperately trying to wake the
sleeping toddler, walking away.
"It's almost our turn!" Cassie exclaimed. "Aren't you excited?!"
"Please, Cassie, I know you hate me, but you can't make me do this!"
Megan begged, actually getting on her knees. "You saw all the people out
there..."
The next thing she knew, she was on the floor, her head spinning, tears streaming
from her eyes. "I told you to shut up," Cassie said in a quiet, dangerous
voice. "Don't you ever listen?!"
Before Meg could think of anything to say to that, she heard Cassie's name being
called. "Let's see your little friend Cherise get you out of this one."
Cassie sounded much happier now, as she tugged Megan to her feet, and then starting
dragging her to the door. Meg tried to find something, anything, to keep her
body from moving forward, but it was hard enough for her to keep from falling
on her face.
And then she was out, on the stage. She had been working on getting ready to
do just that for weeks now, but this wasn't the same as Peter Pan. She still
felt a great deal like the lead character - everyone was surely staring at her
- but there were quite a few differences, too. For one, if she was Peter Pan,
she could just fly away from all this.
And she would have a much different costume. One she could actually walk in,
most likely. She could barely even waddle now. Cassie had put two of Megan's
extremely thick diapers on her at the same time, and a little pink dress that
had been made for somebody perhaps half her age, short enough that even one
diaper would be showcased quite well by it. But two at the same time... She
might as well just be wearing a T-shirt.
Megan froze as she saw the sea of faces looking at her, heard the voice announcing
her as Cassie's one and a half year old sister, saw the other contestants of
the baby pageant, or more specifically, the mothers and sisters of the contestants,
glaring, mentally telling her that this was serious business, not the place
for some silly prank as they breathed an inner sigh of relief, glad to see that
at least she wasn't more competition.
Everyone was looking at her. Megan was sure of it. And they had to all be laughing
at her, she could hear it in her head. -She- would be laughing, if she was in
the audience, and Cassie was onstage. Or she would have at one time, before
she had started needing to wear diapers.
Tears poured like twin waterfalls from her eyes, blurring the sight of all those
people who had seen her like this. Her life might as well be over; in this town,
if even a quarter of the people in attendance saw, or heard about something,
the rest of the town would know within the week. She would be known as the '12
year old baby' or something like that for the rest of her life, she was certain,
and with that nickname, how could she ever hope to get a boyfriend?
There was a maelstrom of voices swirling violently around her, but they all
seemed to blend together in an unintelligible mess as she just stood there in
full view of anyone who cared to look at her. Nothing really seemed to matter
anymore. At some point, she felt her hand being taken roughly, and her feet
began to walk almost of their own accord, mindlessly following as Cassie led
her on to the next torture...
The next thing that she saw, or her brain recognized anyway, was the house.
Somehow during the horror of being diapered at school and getting attacked in
her dreams, she had mostly lost her fear of it, yet she wasn't prepared for
it just then, and all the old paranoia came rushing back, accompanied by a hearty
shiver.
"Aww, is the baby afraid of the big, bad haunted house?" Cassie teased.
"Well, we'll just have to do something about that, now won't we?"
"Screw you," Megan growled. "I don't care if you -do- tell everyone
I know now. Just leave me alone."
Cassie didn't let go of her hand, however. "What about your mother?"
she asked. "What if I told her? Do you think she'd be angry enough to break
your other arm?" The shock must have shown on Megan's face, because Cassie
laughed. "It's amazing the kind of things you learn in your dreams, isn't
it, Meg?"
Megan nodded, the tears that had almost dried welling back up again. "So...
Do you want to risk your dear mommy's wrath... Or do you want to go see what's
in the haunted house?"
A few minutes later, Megan was at the front door of the house, her hand raised
to knock. The door creaked open as soon as her fist touched it, revealing the
pitch blackness inside. Megan held her breath, reminding herself what would
happen if she turned and ran, and then stepped inside.
23
Light shouldn't have penetrated this far into the cave, yet Nimue could see
perfectly as she walked through, the sound of tiny skittering feet ahead of
her greeting her ears with every step she took. The ball of light hovering just
ahead of her helped quite a bit, of course...
She was starting to think that the man had just been crazy, that the pain and
horror of death lingering so close had decimated what little bit of brains he
had to start with. After all, why would he hide a holy relic in a deep, dank
cave like this, instead of taking it back to Camelot, even if he had heard rumors
of King Arthur's defeat. In his dreams, no less! All knights were crazy, Nimue
was sure of it.
But didn't that make her even -more- crazy, since she was following his directions?
No, she was just a woman on a mission, that was all, willing to do whatever
it took. And if that included making a pointless trip through some old cave,
then so be it.
Something in the distance reflected the light back, faintly, but enough for
Nimue to see. Could it be..? Had he been right after all?! She quickened her
pace, would have held her breath if she wasn't so tired from walking, and using
her energy on the ball of light.
And then she was holding her breath, regardless of all of that. Had she really
found it? It was almost too easy. Or would have been, if she hadn't been waiting
so long for this. Her hand was shaking ever so slightly as it reached out, her
fingers brushing the rough wood of the Grail, and then wrapping around it, pulling
it up, cradling it before her chest.
A smile cracked slowly across her face, transformed into a soft chuckle before
erupting into pure, unfettered laughter. The silence of the cave shattered,
sound bouncing off of stone walls that had not heard the sound of a human voice
for years, if not centuries. It was almost over now... Unless, of course, this
was just the beginning.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
- - - - - - - - - -
Megan gasped, her hand clutching her rapidly beating heart. She hadn't been
expecting to see anyone else here... At least, she was hoping that she wouldn't.
"What are you doing?" she asked, once she could talk again. "I-I
don't think people are supposed to be here..."
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
- - - - - - - - - -
Nimue fell back, exhausted, as the light around the Holy Grail began to fade.
So many... There were so many... How could she possibly find them all, even
if she did know where they were? It would take her forever, if not longer.
So it had all been for nothing. She could never hope to repair the Book of the
Sun, not if she had three lifetimes. This trip, all those boring days in the
library, the betrayal of her master - all for naught.
She sighed sadly, and then the tears started to pour down her face, onto the
cold, uncaring rock below her. After all of this, she had still had no power.
That was all she wanted, just a little power... And not to be seen as a little
gir...
That was it! She sat up suddenly, tears and grief alike forgotten. Who was to
say that she -didn't- have three lifetimes? She was Atlantean, after all! And
her aging had slowed down even further, ever since the Banishing. Who was to
say that she had to worry about such inconveniences as mortal life spans? Who
was to say that she wouldn't live forever? She could, and would, damn it all!,
fix the Book, if it took her until the sun itself burned out.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
- - - - - - - - - -
'What are -you- doing here? And why are you dressed like that?'
"I-It doesn't matter," Megan said quietly, blushing and looking down
at the floor, unable to miss seeing the thick diaper around her waist as she
did so. "C'mon, let's go home."
Cherise shook her head, grabbed Megan's arm. She was silent for a few moments,
as if considering something, and then nodded, seemingly to herself. 'Do you
trust me?'
Megan raised her eyebrow, suddenly wondering if this wasn't really Cherise.
Maybe it was a ghost pretending to be her... "Of course I do. We've been
best friends for... forever."
'Eight years' came the written answer. 'Will you help me with something?'
"Sure," Megan shrugged. Cherise smiled, dropped the notebook, reached
up with both hands, grabbing Megan's face...
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
- - - - - - - - - -
Civilizations rose and fell, magic was pushed out of the world by the rise of
technology, kings and queens were crowned, only to be killed, sometimes by usurpers
to their throne, sometimes by time itself. There was only one constant, only
one thing that persevered.
The eternal child, never staying in one place for long. There was always another
page to find, another place to go, another adventure to coax others to tackle
for her. When times changed enough that people began to question an eight year
old by herself, she adapted, creating 'parents' for herself, first by using
spells to possess two people, and then, when she started running into problems
with them suddenly remembering that they weren't related to, and certainly never
gave birth to, her, she went on to the next stage, building a pair of humans
with dirt and magic.
As the number of pages left to discover dwindled, however, so did her love for
the world, and her hatred of her state as a mere child, forever, grew, overshadowing
her hate of the old man, Merlyn. So that when she found the final page, in the
new country across the sea, her first task was not the destruction of that old
foe, but something much more difficult.
It took her a week almost, to work the complex spell, one that drained her of
all the mystical energy she could summon, and begged for more. She gave it all
she could, praying it would be enough. And at the end, it was. For a few months,
she wasn't sure of that, but soon she began to notice the changes, slow, yet
much more rapid than anything that her body had been through for many, many
years, leaving her unable to work even the simplest spell for nearly a decade.
Still, her body was growing again, was aging...
It had begun.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
- - - - - - - - - -
Megan tried to break free, but there was nothing to free herself from. In fact,
there was nothing at all.
"It's all right," Cherise's voice, silent for so long, reassured her.
"It'll all be okay, soon."
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
- - - - - - - - - -
The door creaked open, almost falling from its hinges as the hand pushed it
inward. Cobwebs hung thick all through the room, nearly as thick as the scent
of decay. A soft wind blew, gained strength, clearing the room of all but the
occupant in the center.
The ancient head raised, turning slowly, looking as if it moved any faster,
it would fall right off of the bony, almost skeletal shoulders on which it was
perched.
"Nice place you got here," Megan's voice said. The man knew who was
really saying it, though. And in that moment, he realized that he had been tricked.
The girl hadn't been just some adolescent after all, even if she had seemed
to be. He hadn't been tricking her - he had just been leading her straight to
his hiding place, the haven where he kept his body, ever since time had made
it useless to him. The one place where he was vulnerable.
"So, you finally found me," he said, his voice rough, hoarse, unused
to the world of the waking. "But do you..."
He was cut off by a flash of light, searing what little flesh remained from
his bones, shredding the bones, leaving behind only a pile of dust where the
world's most powerful and well known wizard had once sat.
Nimue smiled, brushing her hands off. "You always did talk too much, old
man," she said quietly, turned, walked away.
~*~Epilogue~*~
Megan woke.
That was the first surprise, something she hadn't been expecting to happen again.
"Time to get up, honey," another voice told her as the blankets were
pulled away from her body. "You don't want to be late for school, now would
you?"
Megan couldn't tell if the voice was mocking her, or if it was serious. Still,
the principle remained the same - she was too tired to really care.
"You don't want -me- to be late for school, do you?" the voice spoke
again, sounding playfully annoyed.
"Yeah, I do, Cherise... Now shut up and let me go back to sleep."
Megan rolled over in the bed, reaching blindly for the blanket before remembering
that she had a cast on her arm.
Cloth brushed against flesh, and her eyes shot open. Her arm... It was healed!
But how..?
"There are a lot of things you don't understand now, sweetie, and things
that you may never understand..." Cherise told her softly, from her perch
at the edge of the bed.
"I know you'll hate me for a little while, Megan, but that's okay. You
probably know by now that I'm not who I seem. Neither are my parents, for that
matter, but that isn't important now. I just want you to know... I love you,
Megan. No matter what. Someday you'll understand."
Nimue - or Cherise, whichever you want to call her - stood, gently gathering
Megan into a hug despite the other girl's attempts to pull away. "Ever
since the first day I showed up in the house beside yours, you were always there,
pestering me. It took me a long time to realize that you looked up to me. No
one... Nobody ever did that before. You -trusted- me."
"And you tricked me," Meg said coldly. "You were the shadow man,
weren't you? You started this whole thing..."
Cherise sighed. "Yes, I did, but I promise you, I'm not him. Just trust
me again, like you used to. I'm giving you something you deserve more than any
person I have ever met. Something that you had, so long ago that you probably
don't even remember it."
Cherise bent down and kissed Megan's forehead. "Goodbye, Megan. You were
a true friend."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"We're gonna be late!" Megan whined, fidgeting in her car seat. She
absolutely hated riding in it... She was a big girl now, after all, just turned
five! But her mommy and daddy said she was still too small.
"No, we'll be right on time," her daddy assured her. Normally, that
would have been enough. Not today, though. No, today, she was too worried about
being late to her ballet class. "Be quiet, hon..."
"Are too gonna be late," she pouted, crossing her arms, not caring
that mommy was taking a nap in the front seat. She slept a lot these days, when
she wasn't throwing up, or eating weird things. "And then they won't let
me dance..."
Daddy sighed, casting a desperate look over at his wife, finding no help there.
"I'm sure they'll understand if you're a few minutes late, honey. It's
pretty foggy out here, and I imagine they'd rather you be late then not show
up at all..."
"I guess," Megan conceded the point, but wasn't ready to resign herself
to being late. "Can't you go a little faster?"
"Meg, sweetheart, Daddy is busy right now - could you please be quiet?"
He turned slightly in his seat as he said it, giving her a little smile to take
the harshness from his words. God, what was it going to be like, having -two-
kids bugging him about this kind of thing while he was driving, and, if Meg
was any indication, every other waking moment?
Sometimes a second seems longer than that. Sometimes it's more significant than
it truly has any right to be. This was one of them. Time seemed to stretch on
forever as the lights appeared in front of them, yet it still wasn't long enough
for Meg to find her voice, to say something, anything...
Megan's eyes came open again, two half-familiar figures standing over her. "She's
awake," the first whispered.
The second hurried over to her side, kneeling down by the bed. "Megan?
Honey, are you okay?"
Meg nodded, not really feeling like it, but not wanting to worry Mrs. Mingus.
The door opened, a man in white entering solemnly. Mrs. Mingus quickly grasped
Megan's hand. The man slowly shook his head. When Mrs. Mingus turned back to
Megan, tears glistened in her eyes. "Honey, I have some bad news..."
A small voice piped up from a chair at the other end of the room. "And
some good news!" it exclaimed. A nine year old girl stood, walked over
to the bed and taking Megan's other hand. "Hey, Megan... How would you
like to be my sister?"
Meg looked up at her best friend, smiling for the first time since she had woke.
"H-How?"
Cherise shook her head. "That's not important now. The only thing that's
important is that you know that I love you, and I'll never let anything hurt
you, never again."
Megan giggled. "I already knew that. That's what best friends do..."
Cherise grinned. "That's right, Megan. That's what best friends do. And
that's what sisters do, too."
"And we're sisters now?" Megan asked, still feeling a little confused.
Cherise smiled, her eyes shining with wisdom way beyond the nine years that
she had appeared to have lived. "Forever."
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