An Alternate Slice of Reality

There is no time between the walls of reality. He could have just left, or it could have been days. There was always a smell about him, living or dead. One would never know. He was old and knew war games well. The Queen's knight. He destroyed men for her amusement. He set fires at weddings to the Queen's delight. He filled graves with water during the funeral itself, all to please his Queen. Everyone feared him. Everyone except for me.

He gave me little gifts when I was young. Silk threads, and lace fabric remains. He would pull the stuffing out of other children's bears and give it to me so my bears would stay plump. As I grew older, his gifts became more elaborate: a mosaic mirror, a tea kettle, a bishop's heart cut right in two. He told me what tree to hide it under and made me promise never to tell anyone. Two days later, the Queen's bishop was discovered standing upright and dead near the back of a run down hotel. The Queen could not revive the bishop because his heart was missing. I never told anyone. I never uttered a word. The Queen was forced to appoint a new bishop. She was not amused.

Once, in an avenue of time, when the moon was full and the fruit trees laden with heavy, ripe fruit, he took me aside. It was late at night, when the world was at slumber and the winds had died to nothing. He motioned silently for me to follow, and I followed his weavings through the trees of the deep forest. At the edge of the grand rock, he stopped, and glancing from left to right and back to left again, leaned over to my still youthful ear and whispered, " He fancies you and will kiss you soon. And then you will belong to him." He pulled back and took a deep breath, exhaling with surprising force. Then glancing around again, he motioned for me to lean toward him. I did so. He whispered so lightly, that I could almost not hear him. " The King fancies you and intends to make you his wife." Startled, I pulled away abruptly. There was an expression of panic on the knight's face.

"How is that possible!" I blurted out. "Shhh!" was the terrified reply. The knight looked from left to right and back to left again. Seeing no one, his panic began to subside.

" He has seen you from his walkings in the mirror", he whispered, " and he has decided that he will have you as a wife."

I stared silently at him, fear grabbing my knees and weakening them. " The Queen will not allow him to be so bold."

" The Queen is to become tethered to the Lake. She will not rise again. She will be as one who is no longer living. But having no death, she cannot be rescued. The Queen has been sentenced. She will be given over to the judgement of the Lake. " His eyes grew damp and his expression pained. " I shall miss her greatly." His voice was mournful and full of regret.

I remember the panic and the smell of him. Like death already encompassed him. I remember the argument and my adamant denial that I would ever be bound to the King. He shushed me at one point and called me a fool. I had already been marked and there was no escaping of destiny. There is no evidence of such a thing, I proclaimed angrily. That is when he pulled a long and narrow box from within his sleeved arm and gave it to me. Tears filled his eyes. This is yours, he wept as he handed me the box. I opened it and found that within the box were 3 strands of the Queen's hair. They glowed in the moonlight. And I began to hear the singing. At first it was low and tickled only my ear. But soon it became heavy like the fruit in the trees. I listened more eagerly then, feeling intoxicated and my lower spine cracked of it's own accord. That is when he shut the box and ended the song. And I became aware. I was marked. The King had already marked me and I was unaware it had been done.

" How do I escape this?", I asked anxiously, " how do I escape this?"

"You don't." was his distant reply. "You will only resist as much as he desires it. It is your destiny."

" I will run away." My mind found corridors and avenues that it never knew existed. I would rebel against the King.

" You can run away and you can pretend. But it will not change anything."

" You are old and foolish," I countered bitterly, "and I have more determination than you know. I have more inside of me that you know."

He looked at me. He looked straight through me. He looked at my core. And I shivered.

"This advice I give you, since you are, who you are. See that you heed it. " His lips were tight with grimace.

"Never bury something that isn't dead."

He turned to walk away, but then stopped abruptly, and looked hard at me. " Including the King," he said, " Including also, how you feel about him, in every reality of your being. Never bury something that isn't dead."

I had run away. And I had buried it deep. And the Queen had buried it deeper, when we last had met.
Maybe it was yesterday, maybe it was years. There is no time between the walls of reality.

It had been buried. It had all been buried. But I didn't remember if it was dead.
I only remembered how warmly terrifying it was to look into his eyes.