Mirror

The Kingdom of Abalin
Ominous clouds filled grey skies, covering what might have been a sunny day in northern Abalin. A chilled breeze swept what was left of fall away, covering the earth with a fresh coat of powdered snow. It could have been beautiful, to notice the trees decorated with the pure substance, but it seemed that no one took notice in petty things such as that- they only worried about their schedule. Days passed by, sunrise to sunset, no one differed their daily routine- that was unheard of. From the age of ten girls had their scripts, practice piano and housework- while boys had a completely different agenda. Celia McKennan always had been one for chaos, however, and defied the law for as long as she could. Up until the age of fifteen she explored the large house her grandmother had bestowed to her upon the event of her death. There were hallways for miles, it seemed, and Celia challenged herself to know each tunnel, exit and doorway it contained. For years she escaped the clutches of the the Rule, to live her life freely, until the day her very own mother betrayed her. Celia sat in a small room, her dress puffed around her legs tucked beneath, reading a book with the cover torn from it. Her wide, brown eyes scanned the pages happily, soaking in each word with a large smile. Her golden hair was tied into a bun atop her head to keep it from hindering her vision. She was grateful for it's immaculate length- if it weren't in the bun she'd have at least two inches of hair beneath her bum as she sat- most girls were sentenced to shoulder length hair to keep the time spent sustaining it to a minimum.
A curious rhythm was heard in the hallway, one she'd heard when she was but ten years of age in which the governed seized her cousin for treason.
"This way," she heard from outside her door. "Force it open if need be, lads. We gotta get this one out, she's been awake far too long."
"No," she whispered, jumping from her position on the floor. Her eyes searched the stone wall room for her escape route and spotted a window high above her head, just to the left of where she sat. Quickly, she scooted a small piece of furniture, what looked to be an end table, toward the opening in a desperate attempt to flee.
Crack.
The guards smashed a thick log against the door again, in a dire attempt to enter the room. "Again, men! Heave!"
Celia raised to her toes, her small fingers dug into the earth just outside the window. She craned her neck to glance behind her, but by then it was too late. A large, brute of a man seized her by the waist, holding her against his chest with a rugged smile. "Gottcha, girlie."
A scream bubbled from her chest as she fought tooth and nail against the barbarian. Her short legs thrashed frantically and she twisted in his grasp. "Let go of me, you- you monster!"
"Now, now, Miss McKennan, no need fer name callin'." The troupe's captain stepped forward, his features twisted into what looked to be pride. Celia couldn't help but flinch at the large, jagged scar that encompassed his thick neck. "We's just doin' our job an' all."
"Please," she begged. "Tell them you failed to find me. Tell them I escaped."
The men ignored her plea and instead dragged her through the expanse of the mansion, stopping only when they reached the parlor. Celia's eyes blurred with tears as her mother glared down onto her, a look of disgust on her features. "Cecelia, how have shamed your family and for that you must pay the price."
"Mama," she cried. "Please! Please don't let them change me," she begged. She wrenched her arm from the grasp of the soldier behind her and threw herself onto the floor at her mother's feet, her hands buried into her soft skirt. "Mama, don't let them take me."
"There's nothing I can do, you daft girl. You've brought this fate onto your self, it is no one's fault but your own."
A pair of hands grabbed her upper arms and yanked her from the ground. "This is your punishment, my daughter," her mother whispered, raising a glowing hand to the girl's forehead. "Once you've repaid your dues to me you will have earned your title back."
Blue cylinders encircled Celia's head, dragging out each memory she'd possessed during her rebellious stage. The queen watched as her only child fell into nothing more than a heap on the floor, her head bounced off the hard floor with loud thud.
"Take her to the dungeons, guards." At twenty-five years old Celia had fallen into her own regimen- as her schedule not consist of housework. She was to compose songs and play piano for each guest that arrived in Abalin, to lure them into the gates with her sirenous song. With closed eyes she felt the keys beneath her fingertips, falling and rising as needed to create the most beautiful song in all the kingdom. Within minutes her song was complete and she found herself staring into the mirror before her grand piano, almost able to connect the light freckles on her cheeks. Her dark eyes widened as she realized she'd broken the Rule by searching herself in the looking glass. Desperately she reached her hand out to touch her reflection, watching in awe as her fingers slipped through the surface and into another realm.

Notes