'Hey, Laura can I borrow your phone?' I asked sweetly, looking at her in the mirror.
'umm, yea.' She said, taking out her touchscreen and passing it to me. I scrolled through her contacts, trusting that she had the number I needed.
'Hey Nick. Can you do me a huge favour?'
'Is this Janna?'
'Oh… yea!' I stopped myself just in time from banging my head on the table at my mistake. 'Can you be in your costume and on set in like…' I looked at Laura in the mirror and she mouthed at me.
'15 minutes?'
'Well, I am already in my cos-'
'Great!' I said, cutting him off.
'Why? Does the director want me?'
He will, I thought. 'Um, I really want to go through a scene…' I drifted off, leaving just enough worry in my voice to make his manhood kick in.
'Oh, of cause I will.'
'Thank-you somuch! See you soon!' I heard a grunt of agreement before he hung up.
I smiled at myself in the mirror.
'But Janna,' Laura said, 'you know that scene off by heart. It's your-'
'Favourite.' I smiled, letting her twist the chair around to do my makeup. 'I know.'
'What are you plotting?' she asked, her face inches from mine as she did my eyeliner.
'Oh, you know; serial killing, terrorism, mass theft.' I said, waving a gloved hand vaguely. Laura smiled, a cheeky smile that made her eyes bright, her hands expertly moving over my face.
'The usual then.' She said.
I climbed my tower, carefully hitching my dress up. I looked across at Tigan's tower, her black form looked out in front of her as I let my dress go while stepping onto the tower platform.
'Simon.' I called, snapping my eyes away from her. 'Can we go through scene 25?' I called out to him.
'We'll need the knight...'
'Did I hear my title?' An obnoxious voice asked from the left wing.
'Ah Nick,' Simon smiled, flipping through script pages. Simon looked up to Tigan. 'Is that okay with you Dark Crescent?' She flicked her head to the side in disgust, but I could see by her body language she was pleased with him.
'Oh, alright. If she really needs to,' I nodded my thanks and ignored the disgusted tone in her voice, turning around. Carefully I pulled on my character, feeling my worries ebb away, Dove's patience seeping into my skin. Slowly, the lights dimmed and I felt like I could hear everyone from the backstage crew breathing.
'Oh Silver Dove.' Black Crescent called, making me turn around. 'Have a glance down there Silver Dove.' I did as she bid, placing my hands on the wall before me.
'Oh Silver Dove
What wonders above,
I see with thine own eyes
Oh Silver Dove
I rhyme by love
Blood swifter than curling water'
'Who are you sir knight?' Black Crescent asked, amusement laced with interest in her voice.
'One who calls his Kin home Milady.' He told her, bowing gracefully to the floor before standing straight. She twisted her head to me, seeing my eyes bore into his helmet.
'Remove your helmet good sir knight.' Black Crescent demanded. 'Allow this sweet Dove to gaze upon your face.'
'I would Milady, however spite is as dangerous as hate.'
'Shall I have your poetic tongue for your disobedience?' she mused, 'or your severed head on my dressing table?'
'Shall I recite a poem for your ears milady? To the ears that once heard laughter, and eyes that once beheld smiles?'
At her silence he bowed one knee.
'Have you heard the young lad sing?
The flutter of a blue-bird's wing?
Happiness the day shall bring
The history of the light.
But come the day, must come the night
The changes due without a fight
Behold the candle blown right out
The darkness of the moon.'
He looked up at her, watching her like a rabbit bent on escape.
'Who are you?' she asked coldly.
'One who's quest is noble indeed, as noble as any call of arms.' I told her, speaking up for him. She turned to look at me, eyes narrow.
'As noble as yours may be sweet Dove?' She turned to look at him, a distorted savage smile lighting up her face.
'I know who you are! I know that voice! Your poems are your downfall my singing lad!' We exchanged looks, this knight and I. She remembered.
'And so begins the end of one so fare
To old death's road, with trumpets flair
And yet here I stand, and nor do I care!
The demise of a poet!' Black Cresent cackled.
'If you care so little, why bring him to Death's road?' I asked quietly. She looked at me silently, her face thoughtful as she gazed at my face.
'Because,' she said slowly, 'he may not mean much to myself. However to you he means much. A poetic knight such as himself would stir the heart of silver.
'You know who he is, yet you refuse to tell him his name.'
'He knows his name! He knows the past for he wrote it! I shall have a poet sing me his tune, and I shall chuckle at the demise of Silver Dove's blood!' She turned away, ignoring my level stare.
'Has the black marred your heart to such that you refuse to leave the valiant quest of a poet knight? Is your memory so foul? Does darkness give you black bliss, or wakefulness that dreams cannot enter? Spill this blood sister, and indeed you will be consumed.'
'I am consumed,' she whispered harshly, 'the darkness has come to take the light to death's door, and there she will stay,'
'Until the dawn,' I murmured, 'Release her so she can sing her wakeful tune.'
'She is lost,' her dark face slightly opened, her face like a struck child, mournful.
'Only when the hope of dawn is diminished to an idle thought,'
'She is dead,'
'Asleep perhaps,'
'Come round to her wakeful sleep
And there hold her tender hand
In her, joy and laughter she keeps
Darkness falling like grains of sand.' The knight sang up to us.
Dark Crescent looked down at him, an unreadable mask on her face.
'Go my prince of fallen light
Leave this place, stay out of sight
Leave as the thief you once were
Leave at this moment that I spur,'
He looked up her. Then slowly, carefully he raised his hands to his helmet and undid the tie. Slowly he pulled off the helmet, golden curls falling around his shoulders. He cast away the helmet he held, its silver colour rolling in the light. He held out a gloved hand, beseeching the Dark One.
'Come back,' he murmured, his eyes fiercely staring into hers. 'Long your torment has been, long your suffering has endured. Strike the ugly chain that bares you, the black cage that sickens you. Come back.'
She looked at him, her face open in shock. She wrapped her arms around herself, her black nailed hands clawing at the fabric.
'I see you, I see the light,' she murmured, and I sighed. Her face was once more soft, her eyes beseeching. 'You are shrouded in mist, my heart claws at the chains, my hands at the black cage,' her hands leaped out in front of her, as if pressed against bars. 'I see you boy, I remember,' slowly the haze in her eyes faded, and she fell. She gripped the stone around her and shuddered. I quickly moved to stare into the knight's face,
'Go! The chains have thickened!' I screamed, 'the chains are back I say! Flee my Knight!'
He looked up at me, his eyes blazing. 'I saw her Dove. I saw my Moon, I saw her whole.'
'That will be the last you see if you do not flee!'
'It would be worth my life. My deeds and my inheritance to see her smile; indeed I would give my eyes for my Moon.'
'Flee!' I gasped, as Black Crescent rose, her dark eyes blacker. The knight looked at me, his eyes pleading with me.
'The lace that binds me was torn it seems,' she murmured coldly, 'the soul I have kept blackened has a speck of silver.' She raised a hand, her fingers spread out. I watched with horror as she smiled sickeningly at me.
'A smile you wish for?' She called down to the knight.
'Aye; a true smile,' the knight replied defiantly, 'The smile my Moon once showered me, a smile from her very soul that held love.' He looked long and hard at the stiff creature above him. 'A smile that once befitted her beauty,'
She looked down at him, her fingers still held high. 'Not a speech of a pleading nature,' she remarked.
'Nay Queen of Darkness, you are wrong. It is a pleading from one desperate heart to the other. Snap your fingers and beat me with words and sticks. Beat me with words that once held charm. Use your blackened fingers to bring the end of this warrior poet.'
She glared at him, and he brought the helmet down upon his head. Finally she snapped her fingers together, and a surge of guards came on stage. As they circled around him, the knight fell to the ground. And I heard my words explode from his mouth,
'Give her BACK! She is of the light! The light!'
'Tare his armour off his body, piece by piece,' she commanded over his yelling. 'Show the heart that I will still.'
They tore off his armour, tearing buckles and braces. Their hands skimmed along the heavy chainmail, looking up at their mistress. The chainmail was golden, protecting his body like living, coiling metal.
'No one of black heart may remove something so pure,' I murmured. She smiled at me, her face alight with menace.
'Burn him in it,' she crowed, 'How this will add to my poem! What songs will be sung of a warrior poet burning in his righteous chainmail!'
'No.' I said calmly as her black boys tied his hands together. Black Crescent glanced at me, a lopsided evil smile wrecking her beautiful face.
'Once, I would bow at such a voice, such a quiet command. But no more. Watch as he burns sweet Dove, hear his screams, feel the heat that will buffer your face.'
'A vow I will make to this dark intent,' I said to her, moving so the light could ripple down my dress.
'I vow to this day, that indeed the darkness will be stripped away, the cloak that you drape around yourself will be torn, just as the armour was torn from the Golden Knight. Indeed, wait for that day, the black will die and gold and silver will be one.'
Smoke filled the stage, and the knight began to scream in the rolling grey, smothered and out of sight. And still my eyes burned into hers and hers into mine. In her eyes was fury, a fury so real my eyes stung with it. The longer I starred the more I saw the desperate want, the need to be me, yet that determination to prove she was right coiled within her. A single tear started to fall from my face, a crystal clear droplet of water. And she fell.
ns 15.158.61.23da2
