Dastardly

Magic in the Air

That night, Ellie's father pulled out his old violin and began to play. It was a great distraction from Fenwick, Teddy's plight, and the voice I had heard in the Zeigerwald.

He knew how to play from when he was an almost-teen, living in the original Griorden. That was back when music wasn't considered suspicious activity. That Griorden was a lot better with rules. I was lucky we lived on a farm so we didn't have neighbors for a long while.

But then again, that Griorden had burned. Perhaps some rules were a good idea, in theory. But as I felt the music swell inside of me, I knew that it wasn't really harming anyone. Just cutting a jagged knife through her with its melancholy tune. It was making her feel nostalgic for things she had never seen. Friendship. Love. The Mountains and a River that ran through the pass.

Ellie shivered. This was like a ghost song for a ghost world. That would explain the phantom pains pounding in her head, the longing to find the mountains, the sky and the sea that lapped at her toes and salted away her worries. For a minute, the desire was almost overpowering. Eyes widening became a phenomenon that swept over her, her senses so heightened that she hardly could think of anything else.

Then, the song was striking its final notes, then it was over, and she snapped back into reality. Grim, grim reality.

"What did you think?" Her father asked.

"I... It makes me feel strange. Tingly. Like I want to see the world instead of just Griorden. " she replied breathlessly.

He chuckled, a great booming sound that echoed across the tiny room.

"That's the only real magic, my dear. No witches or potions or broom sticks swooping across the evening sky. Strings or a good voice, playing those notes like an incantation, that's how it works, so it's no wonder music was banned. But how can you live, really live without it? That's why we hide this." He tucked the violin under a loose board.

She felt the warmth slip off her heart as the violin was put away, like she was taking off a woolen scarf.

Perhaps her father was right. Maybe there was no real magic. If there had been, her mother would still be here, taking a turn with the violin, watching her fathers face light up as she played the jolliest tunes. Then she would retire to the backway, where stories would be told of elf-Kings and dragons and princes with dashing handsomeness who would always be there to save the kingdom.

Her mother always telling the greatest stories, that Aurelie had been so fascinated with. She had almost believed every word, until she looked out the window and had seen Griorden.

"Hush, one day, you'll see. Griorden is bleak but there is magic out there. You'll see, honey. You'll understand someday, and things will change," mother would say, stroking Ellie's hair.

But there was nothing past the boundaries of Zeigerwald, nothing for her here. Things could never change, especially where magic was mentioned. Burning change at the stake, they would just about riot in the streets, Ellie mused.

Then, she heard a rapping on the old door that was nearly falling off its hinges. Who could be coming this close to curfew? It was only in fifteen minutes. Perhaps the Magistrate, riding his groomed, powerful black horse would be entering. She was immediately glad that the violin was concealed.

"Hello?" She called tentatively. It could very well be anyone, an outlaw, an evil witch or executioner. She simply couldn't just unlock her door for everyone.

An executioner, outlaw, or witch could break down that door in a heartbeat and you know it, she thought. But it did provide a false sense of comfort.