There are many millions of parallels. Worlds living and breathing at the same time - time doesn't even exist, 18th century England is living and breathing alongside the present day.
While London is living in the past, Afalon is pushing toward it's...
Eyes half-open in the din, I roll over - away from the sweating brickwork - slowly, trying to get comfortable on the brick and hay.
After many hours of tears, I had fallen asleep finally. I can, if I squint my eyes just right, still feel the puffiness there around the sockets. It could have been moments or hours — or days, for all I knew — since I had slipped into a dreamless rest.
Then, a slight sound. Hardly anything at all really, just a scrape against the floor. It could have been another prisoner shuffling over like I just had — except it wasn't.
Someone was in my cell.
The door shut behind them, there goes the bolt.
I sat up slowly, eyes open now. More than open, trying to absorb any light available though there obviously was none.
By the time I finally sense some movement, not with my eyes but ears now, the figure has done the deed they intended and is on their way out.
When had it become my cell? Not the?
More importantly, how had they even got out? I sensed no one here anymore - but to be sure I crawled around the small space, reaching for anything living. I checked the ceiling too, you could never be sure. Was there a type, a species, of ælfin that could fly? Crawl across verticals and horizontals like a spider would?
Check anyway, stupid girl. Thats what Ameline would have said.
If you can imagine it, you're probably right.
I checked anyway. Jumping as high as I could, fingers grasping at nothing. How high even was the ceiling? I had never bothered to check in the light.
The man, the person - the thing had simply disappeared. The shadows welcomed them with open arms, took them away somewhere or through the walls. Or maybe they were still here, on the ceiling.
With that thought in mind, I committed to lay down and stare at them.
Before long, I lose the staring contest. I had slipped into silence, a dreamless sleep.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I am ready when the next thing, ælf, bursts into the, well I suppose it is my, my room, my cell uninvited.
This time it is the queen, I hear her before I see her.
I had not bothered to rewrite the riddle in the same place.
"Well, what have you decided then?" She asks, to the point.
"I choose the riddle."
She does not look very happy with me. Her face looks a lot like she's sucking on a particularly soul lemon, pinched so much wrinkles form on her brown skin.
