Whisper Shifterdaughter
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- Messages
- 21
The halls were cold and terribly dim as Whisper crept form her small bedroom, armed only with a stubby candlestick and the threadbare shawl drapped loosly around her shoulders. The shadows danced and jumped around her like living things, darting forward and then shying away again in the flickering light of her candle's meger flame. A floorboard creaked beneath her bare feet, loud and shrill like the warning call of a bird, and she froze on the spot, her pale blue eyes darting fearfully to the tightly closed door beside her. For several minutes she remained still and silent, her hand cupped around her tiny flame to protect it from the frigid drafts that hissed through the halls and under the doors, waiting for the barely audible shuffle of the slumbering one's waking. The urge to scramble back to her room and hide beneath the warm covers of her bed gripped the little girl's thin frame for a moment but instinct made her linger long enough to realize that not so much as the slightest hint of a sound had risen to disrupt the quiet. With a sigh of relief, she moved on, shivering as the chill bit at her feet. Jaju will be cross with me if he finds me up at this hour, she thought uneasily as she darted up the stairs, more so if he finds out what I'm up to.
Once upstairs, it didn't take her long to find the door she was looking for even though the long corridor was positively filled with others that were almost exactly identical to it. It was a very large door, made of the darkest cherrywood, polished so diligently that it gleamed like a dark mirror under the light of her candle. It was also, unfortunatly, very heavy, at least to a child of Whisper's size but perhaps her desparation helped her a little because she managed it somehow without make too much noise.
Her mother's room was well lit, silvery and cast in the coldest blue under the light of the moon, which seeped in through the massive windows that lined the far wall. It was quite spacious and fine with beautiful carvings etched into the walls but it was also quite empty, furnished only with a bed and a small armchair. Perhaps there might have been more if the circumstances called for it but as it was, there was no need for anything else. There hadn't been in a long time.
Whisper went to her mother's bed, gazing down at the motionless form that lay upon it for a time before lifting the blankets and settling down beside her. "It's my birthday today, mommy." she murmured, resting her head gently upon her mother's chest so she could hear her breathing, though the sound was so quiet that anyone else might have mistaken it to be missing altogether. "At midnight I'll be six years old. That's how many years you've been lost, too, I guess."
Her mother didn' t respond of course. She had neither moved nor uttered a sound since as far back as Whisper could remember, but Whisper went right on with her one sided conversation as she always had. "That's what Jaju says anyway, that you're lost somewhere out in the big, wide world and you can't find your way back." She smiled sadly, wrapping her tiny fingers around her mother's, which were cold and smooth as ice in her own. That's what he says."
But is he telling me the truth? she couldn't help but wonder.
Once upstairs, it didn't take her long to find the door she was looking for even though the long corridor was positively filled with others that were almost exactly identical to it. It was a very large door, made of the darkest cherrywood, polished so diligently that it gleamed like a dark mirror under the light of her candle. It was also, unfortunatly, very heavy, at least to a child of Whisper's size but perhaps her desparation helped her a little because she managed it somehow without make too much noise.
Her mother's room was well lit, silvery and cast in the coldest blue under the light of the moon, which seeped in through the massive windows that lined the far wall. It was quite spacious and fine with beautiful carvings etched into the walls but it was also quite empty, furnished only with a bed and a small armchair. Perhaps there might have been more if the circumstances called for it but as it was, there was no need for anything else. There hadn't been in a long time.
Whisper went to her mother's bed, gazing down at the motionless form that lay upon it for a time before lifting the blankets and settling down beside her. "It's my birthday today, mommy." she murmured, resting her head gently upon her mother's chest so she could hear her breathing, though the sound was so quiet that anyone else might have mistaken it to be missing altogether. "At midnight I'll be six years old. That's how many years you've been lost, too, I guess."
Her mother didn' t respond of course. She had neither moved nor uttered a sound since as far back as Whisper could remember, but Whisper went right on with her one sided conversation as she always had. "That's what Jaju says anyway, that you're lost somewhere out in the big, wide world and you can't find your way back." She smiled sadly, wrapping her tiny fingers around her mother's, which were cold and smooth as ice in her own. That's what he says."
But is he telling me the truth? she couldn't help but wonder.