Amwc Anthology Issue 1

8/14/2019 Amwc Anthology Issue 1

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Copyright 2009 by the Aspiring Mangaka & Writers Club (AMWC)

All Rights Reserved. This e-book is not intended for sale, and is not to be used in any

form to generate profit. All contents in this e-book belong to their respective owners

and are not to be re-distributed anywhere else, in any form. The cover is illustrated by

Yu@n and coloured by szelin.

To view more works by the creators in this anthology, please click on their respective

names or visit us at http://amwc.wordpress.com. If youve enjoyed this anthology,

please let others know about us. We also welcome all constructive feedback, which can

be emailed to [email protected].
http://yuanr88.blogspot.com/http://blog.funicsvalley.com/spiritoftooth/http://blog.funicsvalley.com/spiritoftooth/http://amwc.wordpress.com/http://amwc.wordpress.com/mailto:[email protected]:[email protected]:[email protected]://amwc.wordpress.com/http://blog.funicsvalley.com/spiritoftooth/http://yuanr88.blogspot.com/


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PREFACE

This anthology has been long in the making, but is most definitely the logical step to

take when you have a club like the Aspiring Mangaka & Writers Club. It all started when

a young chap posted a thread asking if it were possible to see ones manga on the

shelves of a bookshop one day. Intrigued by the question, I replied and the rest, as they

say was history. The young chap persuaded me to set up a club purely for the creators

of all things manga and stories, and so I did.

I never looked back since and Ive never regretted the day I posted the club thread on

Sgcafe. Members too have been pouring in and Im really grateful for their valuable

input and participation. Its not every day that people come together in common love

for manga, anime, and storytelling after all. Were not a group of published mangakas

or writers, well; at least the majority of us are not but we make up for that with passion

and drive to do what we love.

We hope that with this maiden anthology of ours, we could too inspire you to draw or

write your dreams. It may not end up as the next Great Singapore Novel or even the

best-selling novel in the bookshop but hey, you know youve at least tried your best.

We know we have.

Moontique

TS of AMWC, 2009


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CONTENT

IMPORTANT DATE by Zich --------------------------------------------------------------------------- pg 5

LES YUEX VAIRONS by deliri ------------------------------------------------------------------------ pg 9

LIGHT OF THE UNDEAD by Daidairo ------------------------------------------------------------- pg 11

ETERNAL WANDERER by wrathie ---------------------------------------------------------------- pg 16

RAINY SKIES by moontique ------------------------------------------------------------------ ------- pg 22

THE DANCERS WITH EYES OF STATUES by Axysses ------------------------------------------- pg 34

PRISTINELY by Losse --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- pg 41

LUCKY CHARM by szelin ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- pg 47
http://eosonlineshealter.blogspot.com/http://eosonlineshealter.blogspot.com/http://missdeliri.deviantart.com/http://daidairo.deviantart.com/http://daidairo.deviantart.com/http://www.shrinemaiden.org/forum/index.php?topic=903.0http://dreamsofluthiea.wordpress.com/http://cellardoorsky.deviantart.com/http://blog.funicsvalley.com/spiritoftooth/http://blog.funicsvalley.com/spiritoftooth/http://cellardoorsky.deviantart.com/http://dreamsofluthiea.wordpress.com/http://www.shrinemaiden.org/forum/index.php?topic=903.0http://daidairo.deviantart.com/http://missdeliri.deviantart.com/http://eosonlineshealter.blogspot.com/


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IMPORTANT DATE

by Zich

It was eight oclock in the morning.

I was still lazing on my comfortable bed when the phone rang and woke me up from

dreamland. I staggered across the room picking up the phone while cursing whoever on

the other side.

Hello?I answered in an annoyed tone and continued swearing to myself.

Is this Mr Tan? asked the female on the other end.

I almost stumbled over the telephone cord.

Ever since my parents passed away, I was the only Mr Tan in the household, so I

assumed that she was looking for me.

This is Davisons Electronics, she continued.

I was overjoyed when the name Davidsons Electronics reached my ears; I had

previously applied for a technician position and had been waiting months for a reply!

My heart was filled with happiness, for I was the only one to support myself and needed

the job badly.

Our manager would like to have an interview with you on the fourth of July at seven in

the morning, would it be possible? She asked

I said yes absentmindedly. As soon as I hung up the phone however, I remembered with

a start the date with Evelyn alone, on that very same day and it collided with my job

interview.

I cursed myself.


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I met Evelyn during my schooling years when she was first transferred to my school.

Unaware of her wealthy background (I did not like mixing with rich people), I

approached her after my classmates dared me to. Since then, I had been by her side for

as long as I could remember.

She was a good friend --- understanding, thoughtful, kind, and caring. Whenever I was

troubled, she would be there to lend me a listening ear. She was also supportive in

whatever I do so that even after so many years, she was still the only person I kept in

contact with.

I had always kept my promises to Evelyn in return for her never failing friendship, but

now

With her perseverance and hard work, she stood out wherever she goes and

subsequently went into her familys business. She never failed to cancel all incoming

calls whenever she spent her lunch hour with me. Her work was time consuming and it

was impossible to meet anyone trustable --- especially when she was the daughter of

the boss so in a way, I was also her most trusted confidant.

I could have easily turned down the date with Evelyn but my interview was equally

crucial to me? If I failed to go for the interview, my water and electricity supply would

be cut off!

My otherfriends thought I was stupid because I could have simply hook up a position in

Evelyns company. They would always go hey! You got a rich girlfriend! That was one

reason I hated being with rich people but Evelyn was an exception.

After a few head-scratching minutes of trying to come up with a good explanation, I

took a deep breath and picked up the phone with trembling hands.

Hello? Ish is this Evelyn? I asked nervously.


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Yong?

Im sorry Evelyn, I have an interview on July fourth at seven, I faltered like a child who

done something terribly wrong.

But Im only free at that time slot she replied with disappointment, and then paused

for a moment.

Okay, I understand, Evelyn said shortly before she hung up abruptly.

It was a relief she did not blame me but it definitely did not feel good either. Then again,

she would most probably understand; after all, I was in need of a job, and fast.

I went through a nerve-wrecking time for the next few days as Evelyn stopped calling

and I was a little apprehensive of calling her because I didnt know when she was free

enough to entertain me (sometimes she was too busy to even grab a bite).

The more I thought about it, the more upsetI felt because she was the only close friend

I have left.

* * *

Things went smoothly on the day of interview; I was offered a position on the spot. I

was extremely happy and wanted to share this piece of great news with somebody

important, somebody like Evelyn, but

I tugged at my necktie in frustration.

Feeling down, I went window-shopping in a nearby mall. Then an idea struck me when I

came across a delicious array of cakes on promotional display.

I waited for five hours outside Evelyns company that night. It was eleven but there was

still no sight of her. I felt like giving up a couple of times, but the thought of missing her


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motivated me to stay on. The night breeze caressed me as I held the small box of cake

carefully in my hand.

Then I heard the voice of an angel

Yong? Were you waiting for me all this time? It was Evelyn in her favourite blouse and

skirt.

I grabbed her wrist and brought her to the nearby park without uttering a word. She

gave me a puzzled look as I opened the box and lighted the solo candle I had brought

with me.

Yong? What in the world is going on?

For what you have done for me all these years, this is what I can do to show my

appreciation for a friend like you, I opened the box and lighted the candle.

She blushed and shed a tear,

Thank you Yong.

I was so pleased with myself.

End


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LES YUEX VAIRONS

by deliri

I first saw her from my train window. Her smile was as bright as the sunshine, and as

sweet. Her dark hair cascaded from her shoulders in curls...but her eyes were the most

mesmerizing. One green and one grey, they stared at me with unrestrained joy. We

were still young then.

"Caith, you awake? She used to say; every time we lay on the lavender fields staring up

at the blue sky. I wish we could be together like this forever! You and me

She was my life, and I thought I could be hers. But fairy tale endings hardly happen,

even for immortals like me. She met him. And my life was happy but my heart was

broken.

Caith, this is Pietro. He is the man that I will marry! Will you give me away at our

wedding? Brother-love? Her heterochromatic eyes shone with love, not for me, but for

that dark-haired man standing next to her.

We both loved her, but she chose not the man she spent a century with staring at sunny

skies, she chose him. A mortal Guardian? A mortal man? A mortal man whose life would

extinguish like a candle, a mortal man who could not have an eternity with her.

She did not sense that my love was different from hers. So I buried my feelings and

wished her the best. I watched over her and hers. Saw her child born, and swore to

protect them with all I could.

I tried, and failed. Betrayed from within, I could only watch them taken from me.

Pietro, snuffed out like the candle flame he was, protecting her from powers that were

beyond him. My poor love, turned to stone, waiting for the day her child would free her.


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Her childsafe. But I could never face her again. She was an exact replica of her mother,

save her large blue-green and violet eyes. My love, reproduced once more. My love,

whose dulcet voice I may never hear again.

Those large eyes will stare at me with undisguised hatred when she finds out what I had

done. That I failed. I dare not tell her.

Coward.

Now those blue-green and violet eyes constantly challenge my silver and green ones.

She is now my second student, and gradually, becoming my second love. But I shall not

tell her that too. How could I?

I could simply be loving an image of her mother, and not her. But now laughing blue

green and violet eyes torment my dreams every night, her voice saying, You need to

stop flirting with the customers!

Watching her has lessened my yearning for you, my dear. Will you be angry that I have

given her my heart? The heart I gave to you centuries ago?

Will you forgive me?

And then I hear your last words once more:

Be happy, Caith dearest. Be happy

And...

Tell her.

I will. And I hope that those eyes will show me what I want to see.

Je taime, my dear. Rest in peace.

To be continued


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LIGHT OF THE UNDEAD

by Daidairo

PROLOGUE

He smiled.

Moonlight flitted in through the window, illuminating his pale skin and

throwing highlights onto his jet black hair. Gold eyes gleamed as he climbed onto the

bed before him.

She was completely fooled. The voluptuous woman stretched her bare body across the

bed sheets and smiled seductively. She slid her arms around him and invited him to

touch her. Gasps and squeaks of delight escaped her as he pressed her onto the bed,

allowing their bodies to meld together. Within five minutes, the woman fell back

senseless against the pillow.

He smirked and tilted her head to one side, kissing her cheek before sliding

his lips down to her revealed neck. Then he opened his mouth, and two long

incisor fangs appeared.

Biting down, he fed.

CHAPTER ONE

Cialla Corteth sighed as she glanced around her. Lords and ladies of the realm

paraded around in their finery, chatting pleasantly among themselves.

Yes, it was a nice party, and the food was excellent, but Cialla was bored

to the marrow of her bones. If only someone would chat with her. But all the

lesser peers of the realm acted formally with her, respecting her for her high

station.


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The Corteth family was one of the strongest in Merudael City after all.

Cialla would rather have fun than formal speeches. Whenever she joined the

ladies dancing or singing together, they would nod graciously at her and extol her

magnificence. If she went to the men who were discussing spars, they would kiss her

hand and talk about the weather.

Though highborn and gently bred, Cialla felt rather sick of formalities just

then. Tucking a stray lock of blond hair behind her ear, she gave a loud yawn and the

large lady next to her tooted disapprovingly.

Lady Cialla, it is not ladylike to yawn in public. Are you not enjoying my

party? she asked, raising her eyebrows in alarm.

Of course I am enjoying myself, Lady Dumplara, Cialla assured her. The

forty-year-old duchess loved having her hospitality praised. Plastering a big

smile on her face, Cialla moved towards the crowd to socialise.

Suddenly, the large wooden doors swung open, and a flashy looking young man walked

in. Curls, frills and trailing sleeves covered him from head to

foot, and even as the surrounding ladies tittered, Cialla winced, narrowing her

blue eyes. The handsome man was nice and gentle indeed, but he seemed to

think that life was all about hunting and sparring. Not wanting to hear more about his

latest conquests, Cialla darted backwards behind a curtain, her pink skirts rustling as she

moved.

Then she heard a chuckle. Turning, she saw a human silhouette behind the

indigo curtain next to hers.

Well, look at what the wind blew in, he whispered before stepping forward

into view. Long black hair, a perfectly shaped face, pale skin and a fashionable

tunic -- all of it named him a highborn gentleman, but what made Cialla stare were his

eyes. Gleaming gold, they did not really look human, and were almost eerie; yet at the


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same time, they were strangely alluring. As if they belonged to some predator that was

drawing her in before it pounced.

While she gaped at him, the young man gave a flourishing bow and smiled

charmingly.

And what is such a beautiful lady like you doing hiding behind a curtain?

I dont think it is very ladylike behaviour, he said, raising his eyebrows.

Cialla began to argue indignantly, until she realised that he had just mimicked Lady

Dumplara very accurately. Laughter burst out of her before she could stop herself.

No, it isnt. Then again, criticising a ladys manners isnt very

gentlemanly either, is it? Cialla retorted. The man looked surprised for a

moment, then grinned back. He bowed.

My apologies then, Lady? Keeping his head lowered, he raised his eyes

questioningly.

Cialla Corteth. You must be new around here, she said.

He had to be from somewhere else, if he could not recognise her, and could speak with

her so casually. But of course Lady Dumplara would have informed him of her and her

status. She waited for a start of recognition, and formalities.

They did not come. The man simply bowed more deeply, then stood up

and smiled at Cialla. He took her gloved hand in his.

Ah, Lady Cialla. I have heard about you from Lady Dumplara, but I did not think you

would have such a fetching sense of humour. Nor did I expect you to be so lovely, he

murmured, before brushing his lips across the top of her fingers.

Cialla was stunned. Her mind tried to process the fact that this man did not

stiffen when he heard her name, and that he found her sense of humour fetching. His


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tender touch upon her fingers sent a strange feeling cruising through her, even as she

tried to think straight. He thinks Im lovely.

It is a pleasure to meet you, Sir. Welcome to Merudael, she said as steadily as she

could, giving him her widest smile. The young man continued to kiss her fingers before

tightening his grip on her hand and pulling her closer. As his face leaned in towards hers,

Cialla blinked.

She gasped and pushed him hard. Stepping backwards, he eyed her calmly, with

something like level-headed surprise. Cialla felt enraged. Did he think that lowly of her?

I dont know what gave you the impression, my good Sir, but I am not a

loose woman. Behave yourself, please, she said as sternly as she could,

hiding the disappointment within her. She had thought that, at last, there

was someone whom she could talk to. Who would have thought that he was a cad?

The man stared at her for a moment, then smiled. Cialla felt her anger

rising. How dare he smirk at her?

Very well, Lady Cialla. I shall take my leave, he said. Bowing formally,

he slipped out of the curtains and melted gracefully into the crowds. Cialla

stared after him, feeling her jaw drop. It was most unladylike, as Lady

Dumplara pointed out at once.

Lady Cialla! What are you doing gaping half hidden behind the curtains?

she scolded, her eyebrows going up. Id expect better behaviour from you! What would

our visitor think?

Visitor?

Sir Royce Ephorith, a traveller. I invited him to join us tonight, and we

mustshow him Merudael at its best. Just imagine, hell be telling other kingdoms about


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us! With that, Lady Dumplara began scanning the crowd excitedly. Meanwhile, Royce

Ephorith watched them from his hiding place in the shadows. They rendered him

invisible to human eye, allowing him to watch Cialla Corteth without interruption.

She was interesting. It had been so long since a woman had refused him,

and Royce felt the familiar challenge rising in him. He would win her over in the end; he

always did.

This time he wanted to try without the Touch.

To be continued


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ETERNAL WANDERER

by wrathie

[]

Silently, ever so silently, I wait for the storm to end. It seems like an eternity to me,

something that will be quite impossible.

If there is an eternity, then I will see it till the end.

It is such a paradox, calling it an eternity when eternity does not end

So, is there an eternity?

Eternity exists only in word and when the world truly ends, eternity will mean nothing,

the same as the word nothing is nothing

[Such irony]

Laughing to myself, I wrap my arms around me, shivering as I stand alone, waiting for

the attack and the massacre to begin. Overlooking a large muddy patch of green that

the residents called the Scorched Earth, I smile at the ironic name it had been given.

Scorched it is not, but after they are through with it, scorched it shall be.

I am not here to stop the battle, or to kindle the flames of war I am here to make

things even. After all life does deserve a second chance

Pulling my hat over my eyes, I wait once more for the wind to stop howling.

Now, The wind would never hit me; instead, it would dance and curve around me, not

wanting to touch me with its icy fingers. But even as it tries to evade me, I feel its raw


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strength. The icy cold numbness strikes me and I shiver; normal reactions for a normal

human.

But I am not human, or should I say mortal? Oh, quite seriously can anyone tell me

am I human?

Mortals do not live till the end of the world; neither do they have the wind wishing it

could avoid them.

I, am not mortal but I am human. Yet, another paradox that puzzles me

But, such is humanity and her thirst for knowledge. Never ending and never fulfilling.

Just like a glass with a crack at the side never fully filling will the thirst actually be

quenched with the passing of time?

[ so it starts has it?]

Smiling, I brush my hair back and ready myself, looking down at the small dots that are

the two armies marching towards one another.

A side filled with superior power, magic and artefacts; the other with only human

determination.

It is truly an uphill battle; and an impossible one. It is like David versus Goliath, the

outcome is decided from the start.

But, thinking about it, it is just like humans, wanting to overcome their fate with their

own strength

Looking up at the dreary sky, I raise a gloved hand to the air and it, like the rest of my

body, is not wet despite the torrential rains.


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Rain will avoid me, not wanting to stain my body and I am thankful for that, it would

take a while to dry out in the rain. So can anyone say that I am human?

[Perhaps the rain will rust their weapons]

Making a statement that is not funny at all, I smile nonetheless before I mutter softly,

my lips conveying a spell only I and the elementals can hear and comprehend.

[Dissipate]

With the single command, the rain slowly stops and the raindrops, which are falling

heavily and in large numbers, suddenly cease to fall, just like magic as it is.

Magic, magic is my blood, my lifeline so it is as easy to me as breathing

The two armies too, seem to have taken it as a sign and they pause in their steps,

looking up at the sun that is peeking at them from the clouds. The sky, although

downcast, is friendlier than earlier and I lower my hand, a little winded from the effort.

[?...]

Roaring a battle cry that is heard for miles; one particular army races across the

landscape, drawing weapons, brandishing the technology that will no doubt wipe the

other clean from this world.

A thousand over blades reflect light like shiny mirrors and it is certainly a spectacle,

albeit a bloody one.

The roaring of battle cries and the stomping of feet are surely, the sign and sound of

death for anyone except perhaps me.


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I have heard death, I know death I fear death but I too, have tamed death

Death does not sound remotely as weak as them and so, I smile; smile at their

foolishness.

[Harbingers of Death? Hardly riders of the apocalypse; not so]

Settling down, I wait for the right moment to bring calm over the landscape like the

calm before the storm as well as to motivate the underdogs that no doubt will be

crushed.

The rushing expanse of flashing steel and death threaten to overwhelm the other army,

still standing firm, proud, never flinching or breaking ranks. Smiling, I could hear the

generals voice, strong and determined as he leads his men forward, swinging his own

sword in the air.

[!!]

[AHHHHHHHH!!]

But the sounds of clashing steel never falter even after a few minutes. The entire army

should be obliterated, slaughtered and beating a sound retreat by now

Have I made a fatal calculation error?

Clapping my hands together, I kiss my fingers momentarily before levitating myself from

the ledge and slowly drifting over towards the Scorched Earth.

The smaller, more determined army is still alive and fighting and most surprising of

all


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They had sliced the other army to ribbons. With their primitive weapons, their swords

and lances, they had dismantled them, the more advanced army with their flashy magic

imbued blades, enhanced speed and strength.

In the end, it was sheer grit and determination that mattered and when they advanced,

the earth seemingly shook under their combined steps.

They moved as one, fought as one and will likely die as one.

From my height, I could see the General sporting a bloody wound on his right shoulder

but his eyes were still clear, strong and determined as he roared for them to charge

after their fleeing enemies.

Yet, grit and determination shall only win one round

Checkmate.

From the retreating forms, the Calvary has arrived and as they, with their faces hooded

like mine raised their hands up, hell rained down on them as magical circuits appeared,

summoning meteors to strike them down.

It was going to be a massacre, if they struck.

[Mirror Wall]

Blinking into existence in front of them, I casually formed a barrier between them and

the meteors and as the energy from the meteors struck the barrier, they exploded

beautifully, scorching the earth and giving it the name it deserves. The magical powers

that struck it was so blinding that with every strike, the men around me flinched and

looked away.

[W-Who are you?]


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The General, finding his tongue, managed to croak out to me, his sword still raised

bravely in front of him and pointing at me.

I did not blame him, someone with such power is not to be treated lightly and so, I just

smiled at him before whispering.

[I am here, to even things out thats all]

With that last sentence, I turned my back to them, raised my staff, pushed my hat

further down and whispered softly.

[Dissipate]

My free hand just waved casually at the orb of magic I had gathered and in a split

second it was over, the magicians mana was gone, the source of magic has disappeared

and so did I

Walking by myself, slowly through the woods leading me to my next destination, I heard

the general cry out to his man.

[THE GODDESS OF WAR HAS SPOKEN, LET US NOT LET HER DOWN!!]

[ at least use my name]

Thats right

Taking my hat off and letting my blonde hair flutter in the air, I slid my staff back into its

sheath hung loosely on my belt and turned to face the Scorched Field once more, which

was nothing but a green patch in the distance.

[]

My name, the eternal wanderer, Rayne Spica has just given you an even playing field


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RAINY SKIES

by moontique

CHAPTER ONE

The cobblestones responded with an especially loud ringing sound as the corpulent man

made his way down the dim and quiet street in the dead of the night. It was not exactly

the ideal time to be taking a casual stroll for everyone feared the demonic attacks that

came with sundown but then again, the man was not exactlyeveryone.

The attack came without warning as Rat Demons sprang from nowhere and headed

straight for the grossly overweight man, howling and claws slashing as they came. Only

to bounce off a shield that came up barely in time. Fazed by this unexpected

development in what had seemed at first to be overwhelming odds in their favour, the

Rat Demons retreated to a safe distance while their tasty prey shimmered into a slim

young woman with brown streaks in her dark hair and lavender eyes. Cheated of their

dinner, the demons howled their disappointment but kept their distance from the

young woman. These were demons that had little magical powers at their disposal but

relied mostly on brute strength. The woman on the other hand fairly glowed with power

and did not seem in the least inclined to accept polite requests to power down so they

could have a fair fight.

My name is Rain Eveil, The young woman informed the demons pleasantly, and Ive

been requested by the Town Mayor to ask you to leave immediately. Unless you prefer

the less civilized way.

Rain graced the nervous demons with a feral grin.

The Rat Demons were at a loss for action. Here was an apparently formidable Magian

who could take them out with a single thought and yet


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Shes one and were many. One Rat Demon pointed out unnecessarily, we can take

her down!

Without further ado, the demons squared their shoulders and launched a ferocious

attack; despite the shield still obviously gleaming around the Magian. Rain dismissed the

shield with a flick of her mind and held her right hand out as if she meant to grab the

first demon in mid-air. It looked like the stupidest thing to do and the leading demon

apparently thought so too for it howled in triumph and opened its huge jaw to bite

down on her arm. It didnt expect her right arm to flare in sudden brilliance. The Rat

Demon screeched in pain as soon as it touched the light and continued doing so until it

was completely dissipated. The other demons stopped dead in their tracks and stared

wide-eyed at what must have seemed like a nightmare. Their nerve broke and the Rat

Demons turned as one to flee.

Not so fast, dearies. Rain assured their retreating backs affably. With one swift

movement, she plucked her white jade flute from under her sash and swept it in an

outward arc. Darts that seemed purely made of light materialized and shot forward of

their own accord. With fearsome accuracy, the darts struck every one of the demons

and vaporized them on the spot.

As the demons dying bays faded away on the night breeze, Rain searched the

immediate vicinity with her mind but there did not seem to be any more demons so she

relaxed marginally. A good Magian was always prepared after all.

Satisfied that she had taken care of the towns problem for good, Rain changed her

appearance to the corpulent man again and continued her way down the street towards

the Town Mayors residence.

She didnt notice the ominous figure hidden in the shadows on the roofs.


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CHAPTER TWO

I can see her at the gate. Thiea Bey, a tall athletic woman with short flaxen hair,

dropped quietly beside Yvi Weil, Looks like Rain has no problem dealing with the Rat

Demons after all.

Did you ever have a doubt? Yvi flicked her auburn hair and smiled mischievously at

Thiea, Rain graduated near the top of her class at the Magian Academy after all.

Of course not. Thiea retorted in good humour, Im just glad the Rat Demons didnt

decide to strike here instead.

Rains corpulent guise ambled into the courtyard in front of the Town Mayors residence

and shimmered into her usual self, much to the discomfort of the patrolling guards

nearby.

Is the Mayor alright? Rain asked in concern as Yvi and Thiea hurried towards her, Im

pretty sure I got all the Rats but it doesnt hurt to be safe.

Hes fine. Yvi replied airily with amusement in her azure eyes, Hes currently shivering

under his bed but at least hes in one piece.

How did you guess that the Rat Demons were after him in the first place? Thiea asked,

They were killing everyone they could lay their paws on after all.

Thats what they want you to think. Rain smiled as she pulled a parchment from

seemingly nowhere and handed it to Thiea, Take a look at this list of all the people who

had been killed for the past month and tell me one thing they have in common.

Thiea and Yvi studied the parchment intently.

Theyre all known supporters of the Humans Against Demons movement? Thiea raised

her eyebrow.


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Are you saying that the Rats were only targeting those who were in the movement?

Rain nodded, Exactly, and killing the Mayor whos one of the more prominent figures

will definitely throw a spanner into the works.

But who is the mastermind behind these mass assassinations? Yvi asked curiously,

Thedemons?

Who else could it be? An odd expression burned in Rains lavender eyes, Theyre all

murderers, every single one of them.?

The earring wrapped around her right ear glinted somewhat menacingly under the dim

lights that filtered from the Mayors house. It was a subtle symbol that served to remind

all of Rains Magian status wherever she went and it gave Yvi the creeps every time she

saw the earring. It was as if the earring had a life of its own and Yvi never understood

why it had to be a hideous claw-like thing with a single eye of all things. The Order

definitely needed to take some lessons in fashion accessorizing.

Well, whatever it is, our mission is now accomplished. Thiea cut into Yvis thoughts

dismissively, Lets collect our fee and get out of here. Im positively starving.

Youre always starving. Rains eyes lost the strange burning look as she turned with a

teasing smile to Thiea, Sometimes I wonder where all the food you ate went.

To my brain of course. Thiea laughed, Why do you think Im so incredibly smart?

As Yvi followed her fellow bounty hunters, she began to wonder what could have

caused that expression of hidden pain and repressed anger in Rains eyes.

CHAPTER THREE

Youyou sure you got all the demons? The portly Mayor sat in his armchair, beady

eyes darting to the windows while he licked his lips nervously.


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Thick gold chains hung loosely around his fleshy neck protruding from the rich clothes

he wore. His young wife stood behind him with an empty expression, completely devoid

of any personality that Rain could discern.

Naturally,Your Excellency. Thiea replied wryly, We may be useless females but we do

deliver as promised.

The Mayor gulped at her sardonic tone, remembering that very morning when they

were first ushered into his presence in his study. Three young women who looked more

like they belonged in someones harem stood before him as if they had every right to do

so. Thiea who was the tallest of the three women stepped forward and bowed

respectfully.

Good morning, Your Ex

What is this? He barked at his henchmen who flinched at his high-pitched voice, I

told you get someone who can get rid of the Rat Demons! Not useless females whore

only good for entertainment!

Thieas inky eyes hardened while the shorter of her two companions coughed slightly

and drew the Mayors attention. At first he didnt notice anything amiss about the

young woman. Then he saw the earring on her right ear.

The ruby glinted from the single eye on her earlobe and the Mayor suddenly felt shivers

crawl down his back.

My name is Rain. I can take care of the Rat Demons for you. The young Magian bowed

slightly with her disconcerting lavender eyes still on him, I assure you that despite

beingfemales, were really quite good at what we do.

The Mayor swallowed the inexplicable fear he felt every time he laid eyes on a Magian

and tried to regain his composure.


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CHAPTER FOUR

The luxurious four-post bed creaked vigorously in the dark room, its lacy curtains

moving back and forth with a kind of sick rhythm. Moonlight shone through a nearby

open window, its glow barely reaching the foot of the bed where various clothes were

strewn carelessly.

A shadow flashed across the moon path on the heavily carpeted floor but the occupants

of the creaking bed seemed completely oblivious to it. Then the curtains were lifted and

the Mayor looked up in astonishment, sweat beading on his forehead.

The cold lavender eyes were the last thing he saw alive

* * *

The pair of patrolling guards winced at a particularly piercing shriek from the Mayors

bedroom.

His Excellency must be having a reallygood time with his latest wife. One of them

noted with a dry glance at the Mayors bedroom window.

Yeah, but I wish hed keep it down. His partner rolled his eyes heavenwards, Doeshe

have any idea how distracting it is to patrol the grounds to the sounds of his

copulation??

Our esteemed Mayor believes in sharing his joy with the rest of us underlings. The

first guard slaps his partner on the shoulder with a wide grin, Come on, we still have

more grounds to cover before our shift is over.

They walked away, content in the knowledge that it was going to be a peaceful night but

neither of them detected the shadowy figure watching them from the Mayors bedroom

window.


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* * *

The shooting stars streaked across the night sky like golden streamers as the cool breeze

ran its cool fingers through her dark brown-streaked hair. Fragrant petals of

moonflowers danced around her in a field that stretched as far as the eye could see.?

For a while, Rain had no idea where she was. Then she remembered. This was the secret

hideout of her childhood where she used to go to whenever she got the chance to sneak

out of the village at night. This was where she dreamt of adventures in faraway lands,

breathing in the heavenly scent as she did so.

This was also where she first met him.

Little girl Rain heard an achingly familiar voice and turned.

A tall figure in white flowing clothes stood some distance away. Long honey brown hair

framed a face she could barely make out but Rain could tell by the profile that it was a

man.

What are you doing out here all by yourself? He asked her.

But before she could answer him, stabs of unimaginable pain pierced through her brain.

Rain jerked her eyes open and sat up abruptly in the bed, clutching her throbbing head

with both hands. Breathing hard to get her rapidly beating heart under control, Rain was

surprised to feel a trail of wetness down her right cheek. She touched a finger to her

face and stared at the single droplet of crystal tear.

It had been a long time since she had that dream so why was it returning now? Rain

couldnt understand and couldnt think, intense her headache was. The sky outside the

inn slowly brightened into shades of red, gold and blue. Suddenly the town bell sounded

urgently in the distance and shouts could be heard just below her room window.


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Wha? Thiea sat up in her bed and stretched lazily with a huge yawn, What in the

world are they yelling about so early in the morning?

I dont know. Rain made her way to the window and looked out cautiously.

Groups of the Mayors soldiers were scurrying to and fro like ants under attack. Rain

narrowed her lavender eyes. Something bad must have happened at the Mayors

residence for the soldiers to be this panicky. It couldnt have been the Rat Demons again

for she had scanned the entire town last night to be sure.

Looks like well have to get out of town quickly. Thiea noted with a raised eyebrow

beside her, I sure have no intention of being held back for troublesome questioning.

Rain agreed, then realised with a start that her headache was gone.

Are you alright? Thiea peered at her in concern, You seem pretty pale.

Im fine. Rain smiled wanly, But

She glanced around their room in bemusement, Wheres Yvi?

CHAPTER FIVE

Rain already had her hand up to knock on the door when said door was wrenched open

and out rushed a veryupset young man, who was of all things, weeping piteously. Rain

exchanged a bewildered look with Thiea and looked into the room. Yvi in a dressing

gown was dreamily brushing her long red hair before a mirror.

Please dont tell me you broke another heart. Rain said in exasperation as she stepped

into the room, followed by Thiea who closed the door firmly behind her.


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I didnt break his heart as you so crudely put it. Yvi retorted as she put down her

brush and shot Rain a wilting glance. I merely told him not to take last night too

seriously.

Which is the same as breaking hearts as far as Im concerned. Rain returned sharply,

When are you going to learn that playing with peoples feelings is not the right thing to

do?

I cant help it if men throw themselves at me. Yvi got up from her seat and started

dressing. They should know better than to pin me down after a one night stand.

Besides, things I say in a moment of passion simply cant be taken seriously.

Rain sighed heavily and Thiea laughed.

Well, you could send some my way if you cant handle them all. Thiea suggested.

Rain turned around slowly, stared at Thiea incredulously before she sank her face into

her hands and groaned.

One is bad enough but two?! I dont think Im emotionally equipped for two man-

eaters.

Some commotion outside the window caught Thieas attention so she glanced out onto

the street below. A crowd ofterriblyenraged women bellowing for Yvis blood were

marching into the inn.

Ah, Yvi?

What?

I think you better get ready soon because I dont think youd want to be here when

they arrive. Thiea pointed casually out the window.


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Rain squeezed beside her to look out and widened her eyes before she rounded angrily

on Yvi.

Youprey on marriedmen too?!

Can we please argue about this later? Thiea asked plaintively with one hand on the

window sill, Theyre going to find out which room youre in any moment now.

Heavy footsteps on the stairs outside Yvis room punctuated her statement.

Ill deal with you later. Rain promised with a threatening tone before she went to the

window where Thiea had already disappeared through to the roof. Yvi followed with a

long-suffering expression and deftly swung herself to where Thiea was waiting for them.

The door in Yvis room started to rattle in its frame.

You want to float us to our horses? Thiea gestured towards their rides at the side of

the inn.

Rain sighed and shot a poisonous look at Yvi who pretended she did not see it.

Rain concentrated on the three of them and levitated them carefully down onto the

horses which whickered softly but otherwise kept their cool. Their owners had done it

enough times that the horses were used to it.

Quietly now. Thiea cautioned as they steered their horses away from the inn. It was

just as well for the enraged wives were waving choppers at the fleeing trio and

screaming bloody murder.

Remind me never to bring you anywhere where there are men. Rain said as if she had

been mortally insulted.

You speak as if I prey on every man I come across. Yvi observed with an injured tone.


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Really? It sure did appear that way to me.

I will have you know I have exquisite taste in men and not everyman fulfils my

expectations. Yvi said loftily.

Shes right, you know. Thiea muttered to Rain.

Bah.Was all Rain said.

To be continued


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THE DANCERS WITH EYES OF STATUES

by Axysses

PROLOGUE: BEGIN

A little sleep, a little slumber, and the thief shall creep upon you unknowingly, stealing

all you have.

Vincent felt his eyes flash open, squinting at the cloudless, azure sky that lay above him.

His mind hurtled within the remnants of the dream he had, causing him to feel like

stone. That vision it had seemed so real.

He checked his watch 6:06pm; good, he had been asleep for five minutes. A terrible

rendition of Pachebels Canon in D made him jostle for his mobile.

Vincent, are you done with that composition yet? An impatient, feminine voice

resounded through the speakers, blasting at Vincent and catching him completely off-

guard. How could he expect his colleague to call him at a time like this?

Ive still got what I showed you, plus a few extra bars of col legno. Fantastic, isnt it?

Sarcasm dripped from his voice as the lady over the phone let out a huff, the click of an

ended conversation allowing the young lad to sigh.

It was a queer thing to see a man dressed for business lying on the grass, dosing off. A

robin that had been perched on his case chirped, before setting off in a flutter of wings

in its red-breasted glory. Steel grey eyes set in concrete continued to gaze up to the

heavens, taking in their deep nobility in their shade as he pushed himself up without so

much of a single sound, feeling for his violin case.

He felt an unprecedented pang of guilt as he spotted grains of rosin dust scattered

across the dark velvet inside. Manuscript paper fluttered as the soft summer wind blew


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across Hyde Park on a lonely Thursday evening. Notes for a rhapsody were penned

neatly in dark graphite, Vincent perching the tips of his fingers on his temples, his

Eurasian features scrunching together in contemplation. With one swift move, he

positioned his violin and struck a chord. Unseen witnesses turned and ears listened.

Haunting tunes rippled across the grass, the same auras from his dream bringing forth

music. The animals ceased their activity, ears perked to the singing of strings. Each

stroke of the bow summoned a dancer that jested to the rhythm of the music. Pure

magic as it seemed, an audience gathered, watching in amazement as ghostly figures in

their minds came to life, performing to each and every individual present. That same

pair of concrete eyes burned with the song of a thousand choristers, spirituallygathering the passion for the music he loved so much into his playing.

Willows swung side to side, the same dancers shimmering to life as he played on, the

delicate bounces of bow upon string guiding colours into the dull city, extending beyond

the park. Train screeches in the underground could not overpower the strength in the

music; neither did the sirens of ambulances quell the lightest of bounced, spiccato notes.

Colours saturated across London, giving vibrancy to the dull, bland metropolis of rush-hour traffic; giving vibrancy to the lives of Londoners. An abrupt Bartk pizzicato trickled

like water, ringing in the ears of disembodied people.

As suddenly as it had started, the music stopped. Colour drained from the city, the

young mans eyes reflecting the strange lifelessness within yet again; dancers in mid-

position vanished, the trees ceasing their jest; the city became a void once more, empty

and nothing. The visitors to Hyde Park blinked, resuming their past activities,disappointed in the sudden interruption as Vincent scratched the surface of his

manuscript crossed notes for a col legno biting the tip of his pencil lightly. A shimmer

of magic shook from his fingers as the violin was placed back in its velvet case, what

appearing to be rosin dust now scattering into the air, still serenading in the wind.


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It wasnt rosin: it was magic.

He swiped a strand of raven hair from his eyes, laying a fist on his heart. There was this

feeling of emptiness that continually resounded in him; it was a feeling that had had

been experiencing for the past 20 years of his life. That void was filled with a simple

stroke of his violin, or with a simple twirl of feet on wood. As soon as he stopped, that

chasm became hollow.

Vincent closed his sharp, grey eyes for a second time, pondering over the songs left in

his soul. He let his mind come home to the music.

* * *

Lance saw colour draining around him, his eyes sharpening pictures as he stirred. He

lifted his hand and was convinced he had not been petrified into stone. That dream it

had seemed so real.

He flicked his mobile phone open 6:08pm, and nobody had asked his whereabouts. He

sat where he was in the starkly-furnished apartment. He found it to be a particularly

beautiful evening in Gloucester Road, perfect for a stroll at Hyde Park Corner. Summer

nights were the best of times, his soft gaze reflecting the joys of living in the

cosmopolitan city that surrounded him. London was beautiful in his eyes. A short walk

from the small, dank apartment with his violin would lead him to his destination. There

was absolutely no need to waste a good few pounds of money on transportation.

A sudden buzz in his pocket had him reach for his mobile, slipping it out.

Lance, are you quite done with that composition already? questioned a voice that was,

undoubtedly, Marias. Lance slapped his forehead. She could be such an annoyance at

times.


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No, Im not. And Im telling you again, Ill never be ready to perform with someone I

dont know about in front of an audience of ten thousand. Hows the composition

coming along? you ask! Well, you could bloody do it because I dont think Im ready for

anything! His singsong manner made that sharp piece of wit turn playful as Maria

sighed over the phone.

We both know that its good, so just try to finish it up before the both of you meet this

week, okay? She whistled a tune, a defined click ending the conversation. Lance paused

outside the pastry shop, muttering to himself under his breath.

I should have just bloody asked you to compose it, Maria. His serious voice gave wayto a joyful expression, a whistle drifting through the air, cutting through the still, placid

atmosphere that surrounded the place. A hop and a twist, the brown case riding in his

hand, and he appeared at the fringes of Hyde Park.

It was quiet; devoid of activity. A squirrel scuttled through the ground. A good ten

minutes have had passed by on Lances rather uneventful stroll. Hed have it kept that

way.

He swore he heard the mysterious tones of a violin in col legno coming from the rose

garden, feeling his spine tingling with excitement. His grey eyes lit, no longer the

monotonous shade of slate they were, sable locks flying with the breeze as he crept

forward, peering behind pink rose bushes. He identified a man, dressed in full working

attire like he was, and decided that it was too much to interrupt his attempted

compositions, spotting a piece of manuscript, settling himself down at a distant cornerof the park not less then a kilometre away.

Delight was all that could be seen from his expressions as he handled his instrument

with the care of a mother treating a newborn. The soft stroking of horse hair sent a tune


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streaking across the gardens. Cypress shivered at its beauty as the animals paused for

their second piece in the repertoire. Lance let his violin sing, summoning birds of heaven

upon the grasses of midsummer. Overtones laced the dance as statues jerked to life,

sculptures that were once denied of the ability to move now waltzing across the plains.

Everything slowed to a standstill.

A turn in the music cried out: the statues wept as it touched them, cypress leaves

scattered across the ground in mourning. Everything turned to grey as the world around

was de-saturated of colour. All the shades that the world once had were now

diminished to only the youth and his viol. Nothing else moved. The pastiche of medleyswas strong and sensitive, but his playing and interpretations brought conviction to the

hearts of all that listened; his mind was frozen to the harmonics, jumps in jets carried

out smoothly, piercing the silence given.

His concentration flickered as he spotted a figure moving behind the bushes: his zest for

his art overcame it. The one single violin resounded as an orchestra, the same majesty

bringing everything to dust. The music felled gingko trunks, rendering everything thatwas significant insignificant. The thinnest of his strings snapped, but he continued to

play as if he had been granted a second violinist. Lance swore he heard his aide into the

spiccatos, closing his eyes, letting everything around him disappear, feeling the second

presence in him

He let his body come home to the music.

* * *

Vincent thought it impossible for someone to have known his Rhapsody exactly as he

wanted it, just with a different interpretation. He had trailed the violinist having


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looked strangely familiar and watched from a distance. What the vision presented

shocked him.

He saw gingko trees felled, statues dancing in tears; he saw colour drained from every

single being, nothing moving across the grounds; he saw the cypress trees shiver, and

his own heart weep. There had never been such beauty that he had evidenced in his

short life. He had unknowingly brought his own instrument along, spotting the

opportunity and deciding to join in. He shivered as the two medleys connected, bows

moving in chorus. Lance did not seem to notice as he stammered in his playing slightly,

before regaining his stability.

The result was a chimera the wish of two men: who brought to life dancers, willows

and trees; who made the world realise its mistakes in black and white; who made the

world a more colourful place to live in. Statues were dancing alongside with ghosts, fire

ravaging the distant lands: fire raged in the eyes of these artistes, their infatuation with

the music holding no longer as it exploded in a myriad of emotions. The duet was

inseparable, fighting, complimenting, telling stories and dreams and visions. Statues

stood, ghosts fading as a pattering of beats ended the known parts of both players,ceasing all life that dwelled in the medleys.

Vincent felt his void open yet again; the fire in Lances eyes tuned down, but did not

disappear. The duet rang strongly in both their minds as they turned to each other,

shock greeting both as one stammered, the other one stunned. Two pairs of steel grey

pupils examined two stylishly tousled mops of ebony, eyes trailing down each of their

identical Eurasian features in disbelief, bronzed skin of a matching tone.

A doppelganger, Vincent whispered, nervousness edged in his voice, incredulous. He

felt the hole shrink a little, but his eyes were glazed with a fear he had never thought

existed.


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A twin, Lance stammered, the rude surprise shaking his bones, not trusting his eyes.

He felt a strange emotion stirring within him. Lance inched forward, his mind

disbelieving, his eyes focused on the hard, penetrating gaze that froze him inside out.

He reached a hand forward.

Vincent turned, and ran, following the sonorous pitches that expressed his thoughts, the

tinkling of emotions that ran through their minds as Lance sat in wonder. Vincent ran

with his Stradivarius of an instrument; he ran and ran till his legs would not take him,

slowing to a walk outside the Museum of Natural History. He buried his face in his hands

as he stood, like a statue.

Like a statue that came home to reality: life through the music.

PROLOGUE: END

Authors Note: This is purely up to how the reader would want to interpret this. After

weeks of pondering and brain-juicing through cyro-sleep, this is the result. I hope you

have enjoyed yourself reading this, listening to the sounds of the day, examining the

colour in our lives, coming home to the music.


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PRISTINELY

by Losse

Self preservation. That was all it was. She stared down at the body dispassionately,

without a single flicker of emotion in her black-as-coal eyes. What was it he had said?

Did the queen really want her heart?

If she had been any other girl, she would have cried, would have shivered in fear or well,

did something. As it was, she was herself, and so she didnt do any of that. Instead, quite

calmly, she laid the body of the huntsman down onto the prickly grass, still warm

despite the gaping bullet wound and glazed eyes that declared him dead.

Not five minutes ago, the huntsman had been quaking in his boots and pointing his

knife at her. Silly boy. Foolish boy. He did not know that she had survived smarter, more

dangerous assassins than him.

I would have let you go, you know, she said, as she began carving up his chest. Were

both so young after all. But you are nave and foolish, and I am not. I suppose thats why

Im still here.

Later that evening, she presented herself before the queen, wig pinned to her head and

scarf firmly around her face. Her eyes, so beautiful and recognizable, were securely

masked by the shadow her cloak cast on her.

Excellent,the queen said. Show me the heart, boy, and you shall have your gold.

Silently, she opened the velvet-lined box. The unmoving heart sat in the middle of the

box, its stain still spreading on the expensive yellow lining. A servant brought the box

forward to the queen, who peered at it for a long while before settling back in her

throne, a wide smile on her perfect lips.


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Reward the boy, she said dismissively, as she got up. And tell the cook that I want the

heart tonight.

She bowed, taking care not to let the scarf drop. Thank you, milady, she murmured.

She did not stay for the gold; she left the room before the servants could stop her, and

slipped through the long-abandoned and forgotten passages in the castle, away to the

forest before the queen realized what was wrong.

Mirror, mirror, on the wall, the queen said, after she had cheerfully cut the heart

into neat little rectangles and liquefied them with her teeth. Who is the fairest of them

all?

The mirror roused itself, a ghostly face staring coldly into the icy, perfect orbs that were

the queens eyes. Snow White, my lady, still reigns fair.

The queen shrieked.

There was no one in the forest. She found an abandoned shack at the edge of it, and the

girl lived there quite peacefully. That was all she desired really. Peace. Such beauty as

hers is rarely left in peace however, and so it was that the queen came one day to her

door.

For all that the girl was familiar with assassins, knives and guns, she was not aware that

magic still existed, which was quite unfortunate for her and rather fortunate (or maybe

not, in time to come) for the queen. Because of that, the girl did not realize that the

hideous old crone who had knocked on her door was the very person who had sought

her life for the last six years.

Apples, my dear? the queen said, in the guise of the crone. The girl raised her

eyebrows a little.

This is a far walk from the nearby village. How did you find this house?


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The crone tilted her head at the chimney. Smoke, my dear. I am a poor old woman, and

must sell my apples where I can. Would you care to buy some, for a pie perhaps? Or

mayhap you are worried I hawk poisoned ones. Having said that, she took up a knife.

The girl flinched at first, and reached into her pocket for her gun- but the old woman

merely cut a slice out of an apple. It was a beautiful one really, almost too pretty to be

eaten. It was red on one side and faded to a pale pink-white on the other.

The crone took a bite out of the slice, before cutting a red slice and offering it to the girl.

She nodded her thanks and bit into it.

It was sweet, as sweet could be. She relaxed, and was about to ask for a few more

apples when she choked. Her eyes widened as the crone turned into the queen before

her eyes.

Was the apple good? the queen smiled, as she fell to the floor, eyes fluttering shut

despite her attempts to the contrary.

Nothing came to disturb her in her sleep. The girl slept on for three days and in her

enchanted sleep, it was clear that she was dying. The people in the village nearby

wondered why the beautiful girl with the coal-black hair and blood-red lips had not

appeared to get her daily groceries, but no one really knew where her house was, and

so no one realized that she was sleeping as if dead at her doorway.

It was on the evening of the third day that a prince wandered through the village. The

people bowed and scraped, and when he asked for direction to the nearest castle,

referred him cautiously to the path in the forest.

There were strange things in the forest, they said. A girl who lived there had

disappeared, and such a pity too, for she was oh, so very beautiful. The prince only

laughed and said he would look for the girl while he was traversing the forest, much to

the hidden disapproval of the people; they clucked their tongues as they watched the

handsome young prince disappear amongst the trees.


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So it was that he found the girl. The villagers had not exaggerated, he thought, as he

bent down to see if the girl was still alive. She was indeed very beautiful, if a little too

thin and pale. The prince bent down and kissed her, despite the fact that he was not

usually prone to such things.

They say that the touch of a king heals all. The blood of a king ran through the prince,

even if he was not one just yet and the girl awoke, though still weak and pale.

Who are you? she asked. The prince could not speak for a very long while. He did not

answer her question even when at last he managed to.

You are beautiful, he said, And I see that you are no peasant girl. Will you be my

wife?

Of course, it was all very abrupt, and the girl held her reservations. She did agree to go

to his kingdom however, which bordered her own fathers. As long as she was still in this

land, she knew she would not be safe.

It was a week later when she found herself clothed head to toe in silks and velvets, and

adorned with even more precious jewels than her father could have afforded to put on

her. Her face was as stern as ever, though the severity only made her look like a

beautiful statue, carved from living marble.

Marry me, the prince said again. She refused.

The cycle continued. The prince was a young man of chivalry, but even chivalry is easily

worn away by wine and the taunts of ones peers.

He stumbled into the girls room one night, drunk. The girl, having grown to trust him,

had not locked her door. She regretted it now, but nothing would give her back her

maidenhead, no matter how she screamed and screamed and cried. The girl had not

cried in over ten years. Yet this single man made her do so, and she hated him for it.


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In the morning, he was deeply shocked by what hed done. The girl was calm as always,

and she did not listen to his myriad apologies. I will marry you, she said. Thereis

nothing else to be done. Her words took the prince at the same time, to high heaven

and to lowest hell. He swallowed, unable to say anything in the face of such resentful

resignation.

She invited the queen to her wedding. The queen, thinking it was a joke (for she had

consulted her mirror, and it had told her that she was the most beautiful in her

kingdom), accepted and arrived in her finest splendour.

The girl sat on a high-backed chair at the end of the room, and she rose to greet the

white-faced queen. It is a happy day for me, she murmured to her murderer. I hope

you enjoy it as well. The queen could not speak, even as the girl left to watch the

dancers swirl around in elegant circles.

The prince showed up then, a servant at his side with a pair of red-hot iron shoes on a

tray. Im so glad you could make it, mother of my bride, he said. His smile did not

reach his blue eyes. I have a gift for you. It would please me greatly if you would wear

these shoes and lead the first proper dance.

The queen shook her head slowly, and made as if to back away. A servant sat her firmly

down in a chair before she could escape, where they forced the shoes onto her. She

screamed.

Now dance, the prince said, taking her hand and pulling her up.

She screamed. The prince led her around the ballroom, in perfect time to the music.

One by one, the other dancers stopped. The girl stared from her corner of the room,

dark eyes fixed on the spectacle.

The queen fell at last, and the prince let go of her hands. He left the servants to clean up,

walking over to the girl and removing his soiled gloves.


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Shall we? The first dance, I mean. He looked a bit worried, like a small boy who was

afraid of his crush rejecting his gift.

Snow White smiled.

End


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LUCKY CHARM

by szelin


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Amwc Anthology Issue 1

Documents

Transcript of Amwc Anthology Issue 1