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Friday, October 7, 2011

Short Story - A Song From a Music Box (My first short story)

One click, two, then three. When she heard the fourth click, she let go of the little key in her hand. As the music swelled from the box in her hand, her mind drifted back to when she saw the stars in the night sky and the clouds during the day. Eleanor looked to where the window was, her music box now on the window sill. With a hand on the stained glass, cool to the touch from the snow she knew was drifting down slowly. -Silent and colorless. Just like me.-

As the music slowly went silent, she picked it back up in her hand. When it stopped, Eleanor rewound it again. Same notes as always, yet still so beautiful. Her mind wandered and she saw herself at the piano with her knight standing against the wall behind her. It was his favorite song. And she learned it just so she could make sure that every time he came back home, he would feel relaxed again. The music stopped and she fell back into the real world. Back to where her knight has not returned. Back to where she could no longer see his face when he returned. Back to where she could no longer play the song for him, even if she could see. 

The piano was gone. The room where she played for him was gone. The courtyard where she first met him while trying to escape was gone. And her dress she was going to wear when he was to become the Champion Knight was gone. All in flames the day she ran to live. She had no time to save anything but the music box at her side, the only reminder of the song that filled the house that had stood for generations. When she ran, Eleanor had tripped when fleeing the flames behind her. The reason she had escaped from any damage other than her eyes was the knight that was at her side every waking moment. 

He had brought her to this church, one that served her family for years before the house was built. She shook her head to empty her mind of that painful day. -No use dwelling on that day a year ago.- Even though she tried as hard as she could, Eleanor could still remember when she woke up in a bed, and panicking when she couldn't see any light. Her knight had been next to her and had placed her delicate hands on his face so she knew it was him. When she had asked him what happened, she knew his face had fallen. 

The knight had left her in the same church a week later. Eleanor was trapped in a god-forsaken world without her best friend. He had left to go back to the battle field where he said he belonged. A year had passed and the only word that had come from him was in the form of four words written on a piece of paper. 

Again, Eleanor tried to clear her head of the past. This time she was able to stay in the present moment on a cold winters day. She placed the music box key back on her necklace as she felt night approaching. She had spent the day in her chair waiting for him as she always did. 

Eleanor stood up to walk over to her desk and reached out for a small cloth bag. Inside was what he saved for her. Along with the letter, he had sent a remnant of what had survived from the room when the flames had swept through it. Reaching her hand in the bag she first pulled out a white chess piece from her set that was in the shape of a horse. She knew it was white as that was the only side she ever played, since she was the White Lady. And in the bag was also an ivory key from her much loved piano that she played so diligently. And the letter, carefully folded around the key, with four words written out with a piece of charcoal.

A swift knock sounded on her door as she quickly placed her treasures back in her desk. “My Lady, it’s from the knight!” The priest rushed to her. “It’s another letter! Would you like to know what it says?” When she nodded, he continued. “‘To my White Lady.’ It comes with a gift.”

Dismayed the letter said the same thing it did last time she reached her hand out for the gift. The priest had rushed back out the second he had pressed the letter and the gift in her hand. She opened the cloth bag and out fell a carved figure. She felt it careful before realizing it was in the shape of a phoenix, the old symbol for her house and linage. She set the carved figure on the desk. -What does it mean?- Eleanor had just set the bag down and heard the sound of metal hitting wood. She picked the bag up again and reached into it a second time. When she pulled her hand back out, a small gold ring was in her hand. -Wait. How can I tell it's gold?- Blinking once slowly, she saw her hand holding the ring, and the stone floor beyond it. Hearing movement next the her, but the door not being opened since the priest came, she suspected they had come with him. 

Turning to face the sound, Eleanor saw a man in full armor on one knee and his head bowed. As his head lifted, a familiar smile on his face. "Good Evening, my White Lady. Did you know that tears of a Phoenix, forged in gold, have healing abilities?”

Tears came to Eleanor’s eye as she held the ring in her hand and ran to her knight.

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