The Darkened Queen

In the Beginning...

...the world was barren, without love or light. But then a voice rang out and declared there to be light and so there was...

Jareth nearly recoiled at the sight of the barren world, but he kept his grip upon her mind and pushed on. His mental state found so many paths, all which led back to her current state, and he had chosen the wrong one. Still, he was curious and decided to walk a little longer upon the bath before him.

She wandered the world for so long, her sisters always at her side, but she did not know why. What was her purpose?  Had she a purpose?

Whether she did or did not mattered to her, for a reason, and it irked her that she could not find a logical reason as to why it bothered her so.

Her sisters were able to find joy in the world around them, and indeed it had become quite beautiful, but, though she admired it, her spirit was a restless one. Her sisters stood beside her and yet she felt quite alone. She needed to find something, but she could not determine what.

"Should we make camp here tonight?" Her youngest sister questioned but she shook her head.

"I want to walk on, through the night." She answered to the groans of her sisters.

"I do not think I can walk any further tonight, Aine, I am going to make camp."  Her sister made her point by thudding down onto the earth and resting her head upon her arms.

"Very well, but I am going to walk on." Aine declared as she did exactly that.

What time did Soraia live in, Jareth pondered as he tried to sift through her memories  and then was struck with a sudden thought. She knew why he had been banished. He looked at the different paths before him until he found the one that was the most worn.

Jareth sifted through her thoughts of her first life-memories of himself and the home they had shared-he finally found what he was looking for. Jareth could his instincts inform him that he had finally found the reason why he had been banished, that all he had to do was look-and then a force pushed him away from the memories he sought and Jareth's mental state find itself upon the path belonging to the past life he had entered her mind to find.

Soraia knew  she was not supposed to travel the path through the forest at night, not alone, but it was the shortest path back to her home and she was exhausted. Besides, the stories were only told to keep children in line and, as of a month past, she was no longer a child. Surely she had nothing to fear.

The path was steep and rocky in some areas, but she knew the treaded dirt well and knew when the path would even out. She had traveled the dirt path for ages and knew it as she knew herself, it would hold no surprises for her. The only truly tricky part was when she had to walk past the old hanging tree.

It always gave her chills but no one had been hung since before she had been born, it was barbaric and officially against the law. Though some Lordlings did not pay any attention to the law. Her village was under the protection of such a Lord, he was petty, but her home was too tiny of a providence to be of any matter to him.

Soraia was glad for that, her family was still taxed, but the Lord rarely ever came into the village. He did not frighten her, but he did make the hairs on the back of her neck stick up. The Lord was, at least, twice her age, but she had heard the rumors of how he enjoyed the company of younger girls.

She was glad that he did not pay much attention to her village, he had others to keep his attention, and she was glad that her father was trying to arrange a marriage between herself and the blacksmith's son. He was handsome and not ten years her senior, Soraia did not know him but she knew that he had a gentle soul.