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Rated: 13+ · Other · Fantasy · #1177799
A fantasy story about secrets and love.
Prologue

It was not a large park that held their sanctuary. Perhaps that was part of its charm. It was a small place of peace and a sort of silent magic, surrounded by forest, with only a narrow path leading to the road and the rest of the world. At the far end, a weathered old rock waited just beyond the shelter of the trees, a scattering of leaves and moss forming a cushion.

On this smooth stony surface, the two friends would often sit and stare up at the stars. Sometimes Autumn would teach Maya about the constellations, which Maya could never find by herself. Other times, Autumn would simply look in silence, lost in another world. Whether it was the world of the myths or one of her own creation, Maya could never tell.

She found out about Autumn’s world eventually. She found out about almost everything eventually. In the end, it was Maya with the secrets.

Chapter 1

Maya gazed into the twilight gloom beyond the pale glass of the library window. Her eyes flicked from movement to movement - a swirl of leaves fluttering to the ground, littering the already covered pavement; a spray of water as a passing car disturbs an old puddle; a lonely pedestrian, clutching their coat against the wind. Maya’s eyes fixate on the last, trying to discern his features as the last glimmers of sunset fade. Could it be Brendan? No, it was just another old man out for an evening walk. With a sigh, Maya turned and let her eyes adjust back to the bright florescent lights.

Autumn was sitting opposite her, pencil poised, eyes scanning her textbook. “You know,” she said without looking up, “Brendan said he was really hurt that you don’t think he exists.”

“It’s not that I don’t think he exists,” Maya explained quickly, “it’s just that I won’t believe in him until I see him.”

Autumn rolled her eyes, but she smiled a little nevertheless, and her sea-green eyes were twinkling. Maya looked at her curiously. “Was he really out there?”

“Maybe, maybe not,” replied Autumn, teasingly elusive as ever. Maya suspected that half the time, when Autumn brought up the “gang” that she was supposedly the leader of, it was just to annoy her friends. She would never give enough information to satisfy their curiosity. At least she hadn’t started chanting “classified information” yet. Not that Maya really minded. Of all the teasing with which she played along, this was the most fun while being the least hurtful. Any small hurt could be washed away by a drop of Autumn’s happiness. Perhaps that was why Maya couldn’t stay truly angry at Autumn for longer than ten seconds.

“Do you get this question?” Autumn asked, returning to her homework.

“Which one?” asked Maya, coming around to Autumn’s side of the table and kneeling beside her. “Oh, I see. Well, start by making it into an equation; they’re easier to work with…”

A soft smile hid in Maya’s eyes as she watched Autumn slowly worked through the problem. Autumn was, by every account, beautiful, though she denied it as adamantly as Maya denied being smart. Maya was constantly trying to convince her to let down her auburn hair, which she always wore in a low ponytail that flowed halfway down her back. Without thinking about it, Maya reached towards the hair tie.

“Don’t even think about it.”

“But I didn’t,” Maya said with a grin. Autumn gave her a look. Maya poked her. Or tried to, at least; Autumn, as always, intercepted the poke.

“No touching.”

“I -”

“No.”

“But -”

“No.”

“Fine.” Maya pouted for a moment, then when Autumn went back to her homework, slowly brought her arm up again.

“I can still see you.”

“Aww…”



The sun was long down and the library near to closing by the time they were done. It was still early enough to quickly stop by at the park, however.

The leaves seemed to compete to show the full glory of Autumn’s namesake. Every colour imaginable surrounded their little sanctuary – from crimson red to sunshine yellow, with one tree even sporting purple leaves. As they walked towards their stony seat, a wind loosed a shower of leaves to greet them.

Tonight was a night for silence. Maya did not need to be told this; she could sense it as clearly as she could feel Autumn’s presence beside her. There was something sacred about the soft sounds of wind and bird, the gentle glow of moonlight, the loose curtain of fluttering leaves. It opened a connection deeper than words.

After a while, Autumn began to sing softly. Maya couldn’t make out the words, but they didn’t matter. Autumn’s voice seemed to have descended from the stars themselves.



Maya chased the wind through the woods, trees whipping past as she tried to follow the elusive melody playing upon the breeze. It never seemed to grow any closer, always stayed just beyond her reach. Then, just as she finally seemed to draw near it, it stopped as suddenly as it had begun. Confused, she searched amongst the trees as though she hoped to find it hidden amongst the branches, captured by a leaf as it fell.

What she saw, however, was not music but four figures, crouched waiting and watching as a fifth walked cautiously through the woods. It was Autumn. Maya realised that she could not be seen when Autumn ignored her.

When Autumn reached a spot a few trees away from where the figures hid, she stopped and looked straight up at them. They all jumped gracefully down, landing without so much as a stumble among the lot of them.

One gave a little courtly bow. “Princess, welcome. Your presence lifts my heart to the heavens.”

Autumn glared at him. “None of that, Brendan.” Maya started a bit at the name. One of the other figures chuckled. A third rolled his eyes.

Brendan seemed about to continue, but the fourth cut him off. “There’s no time for your shenanigans tonight, and you know it. We must leave at once.”

“Must we drown all merriment?” Brendan said, but after another glance from the fourth figure he fell silent.

That seemed to affect Autumn more than the fourth’s comment. “What’s going on?” she asked softly.

“My lady,” Brendan said, and this time Autumn did not comment, “trouble.”




The next day at lunchtime, Autumn informed her friends that her “gang” had split up. She would say no more on the matter. When Maya teased that maybe she had just gotten tired of coming up with stories for their lives, Autumn snapped that Maya’s beliefs did not change their existence and stormed off. Maya, sensing she had overstepped the boundary, followed.

She found Autumn sitting on the school’s lawn, making patterns from fallen leaves. Maya sat down in silence. Autumn ignored her. After a while, Maya whispered, “Sorry.”

Autumn looked up at her. For a moment, in the depths of her eyes, Maya glimpsed a sorrow so great she could not bear that Autumn should carry it. She reached out, wanting somehow to take this terrible burden from her. Then Autumn returned to her leaves, and it was gone.

Somehow, Maya felt that she had failed.




Chapter 2

Months passed. The last leaves deserted their trees to find their graves. The first snow came – and the second, and the third, until the last patch of green disappeared beneath a white disguise. The world snuggled into its blanket and dreamed of reality.

Autumn had always said she preferred the winter; she loved the silence, the peace that the snow seemed to bring. As for Maya, she liked it because Autumn did.
Their secret place, too, had been transformed. Their boulder was now hidden, no more than a bump in the white terrain. The field blinded in the sun, was solidified moonlight beneath the stars. Branches sparkled with ice and creaked beneath snow, each tree but a ghost, a decorated skeleton.

Their excursions to the park still continued in wintertime, only now they would sometimes wander through the woods, watching the stars between their bare branches. If it began to snow, they would continue to walk unless visibility faded into mist, and only then would they head for the warmth of their houses.

It was not quite at that point yet today, though it was nearing it. The wind was covering their tracks nearly as soon as they were made. Had it not been for her trust in Autumn, Maya would have headed back long ago. This time with Autumn was precious, however, and Maya did not want to squander it for something so foolish as lack of a directional sense. To take her mind off of it, Maya absently picked up some snow and moulded it between her gloves.

When she straightened, she caught a last glimpse of Autumn fading into falling snow before all sight was obscured in white.

“Autumn?” she called tentatively. Her voice seemed to echo back at her, as though the snow were truly a wall, stretching up into eternity. “Hello?” There was no answer.
Maya began to run in the direction she had last seen Autumn. With any luck, Autumn was still but a few feet in front of her, waiting or perhaps searching. A shadowy tree loomed into view a couple seconds before impact, and Maya barely had time to dodge it. Panic began to rise within her. What if she was lost here forever? Or worse, what if Autumn was?

Another shadowy ghost-tree appeared, and another. Maya was beginning to tire. The breath, already coming hard, felt as though it was freezing within her lungs. She ran a few more steps, then collapsed, gasping for breath.

The falling snow seemed to thin a bit, then, and looking around Maya realised she had no idea where she was. The landscape that had seemed so peaceful by Autumn’s side now seemed dark and foreboding. One tree looked much like another. Maya looked around, at a loss.

Then, there, through the trees – a figure, blurred by snow, but definitely human! It must be Autumn. Maya staggered to her feet and stumbled towards the figure, certain that Autumn would know the way out.

Though the snow had slowed now, still the figure would not come into focus, as though it was not truly there at all. Maya began to wonder if mirages were limited to deserts. Slowly she became aware of an ice-blue gaze, and realised that whoever the figure was, it was not Autumn. The snow seemed suddenly impassable, the figure impossibly far. She collapsed once more, tears forming in her eyes.

A moment later, she felt a hand on her arm that, even through her coat, burned both warm with life and cold as ice. She looked up, and there, crouching silently and waiting, was the figure.

Her first thought was that surely this was her guardian angel, for why else would he have wings? Yet surely that could not be true, for though he had beauty worthy of an angel, little else about him fit the description. His wings were not feathery and warm, but rather looked as though they had been carved from the purest ice. His clothes, too, seemed ethereal rather than heavenly, shifting colours even as she watched, so they seemed to contain all the colours of the world and none at all. Though he wore only a t-shirt and baggy pants, he did not seem cold in the slightest; in fact, he seemed warmer than Maya herself. His skin was as pale as the snow on which he crouched - what she could see of it beneath the silver-blond hair which fell like a veil down to his waist. And his eyes – ice in colour, yes, but hiding a caring warmth.
As Maya watched, he looked her over slowly, then smiled, removed her glove, raised her hand, and kissed it with courtly grace. “I am glad to see you are well, Maya,” he said.

Maya stared at him, mystified. Something about his voice nagged at the back of her mind, as though she had heard it before. It hovered at the edges of her mind, just out of reach. A phrase, perhaps… Your presence lifts my heart to the heavens…

Maya’s eyes widened slightly. Seeing her recognition, he gently slid her hand into her glove once more and placed it on her lap, where it hung limply. Then he stood, and the falling snow faded back into existence as he disappeared. As the last silhouette vanished, she saw his wings begin to spread.

Then there was nothing but the swirling snow, and his name ringing in her ears, sliding off the tip of her tongue, no more than a whisper.

“Brendan.”



A few moments later, Autumn emerged from the snow to find Maya still sitting, staring blankly at nothing. When Autumn called her name, Maya blinked a couple times and rubbed her eyes, as though waking from a dream. “Are you alright?” Autumn asked with concern.

“Yeah,” she said after a moment. “I… got lost. Where did you go?”

Autumn pointed through the snow, ignoring the question. “The rock’s right over there.” Sure enough, beyond a few trees was a clearing, and there was the distinctive lump of the rock beneath the snow.

“Guess I really do have no sense of direction,” said Maya, smiling. Her eyes, however, were still troubled. She looked up at the cloud-shrouded sky, shedding snowflakes as steadily as ever. “Come over to my house to wait this out?”

“Probably a good idea. Let’s go, before it gets heavy again.”



No one was home, but that was nothing unusual. Maya’s mother had left a note on the fridge: “Gone to Yoga. Back around ten.” Autumn called her house to let them know where she was, then the two headed up to Maya’s room.

Although the walls were bare, painted a simple blue, the room made up for it in the sheer amount of stuff on every available surface. Most, though not all, of this stuff consisted of two things: books, and candles. On her mother’s insistence, there was always a considerable space between the two. Otherwise, there were pictures of family members so crammed together that only those in the front could be seen, little trinkets, some old candy, and a multitude of stuffed animals, which took up half the bed. As far as Maya was concerned, you could never be too old for stuffed animals.

Maya was already halfway through lighting the candles, which she preferred to electric light, when the power went out. When they were all lit, the room was filled with a soft glow.

“There,” said Maya, picking up a couple of her stuffed animals to make room on the bedspread. “Almost feels like we should be telling ghost stories or something.”

Autumn picked up a nearby candle and held it under her face like a flashlight. “It was a daaark and snooowy niiiiight” she began in a spooky voice.

Maya laughed. “Careful, you’ll burn yourself.”

Autumn rolled her eyes and said, “Yes, mother,” but smiled a bit too. She put the candle back on the bedside table.

“Was it really a gang?” Maya asked suddenly.

“What?” Autumn said, suddenly sounding tense. Maya wished she hadn’t said anything, but it was too late now.

“Brendan, Ethan, Greg, Daniel… were you really part of a gang?” She had a burning desire to know. All this time, she had asserted Autumn’s innocence in her mind by denying her gang’s existence, but meeting Brendan had shattered that hope. Still, she could not believe Autumn would condone true gang-like actions – nor could she believe it of the shimmering apparition in the forest.

Autumn stared out the window at the falling snow. It seemed for a while that she would not answer. Maya was about to apologise and change the topic when Autumn finally said, “We weren’t a gang in the usual sense of the word. If you are asking whether I was a part of organised crime, the answer is no.”

“Then why…” Maya trailed off.

“Why what?”

Why everything. Why nothing. Maya chose one thought and clung to it. “Why did you split up?”

“It’s… complicated.” Autumn’s eyes had a distant look to them. “They still weren’t exactly the type of people you want to hang around with. I tried hard enough to get rid of them for a while. It didn’t work. Even once I was their leader, had I retired, they would no longer have had to listen to me, and they would come and drag me back. It became a bit of a game, after a while. One of what Ethan called our ‘shenanigans’.” Autumn smiled, though there was sadness behind it. “There were a lot of those. Brendan used to call me Princess and pretend he was all courtly. Of course, he started that back when he still thought I was a guy.”

Maya blinked. “They thought you were a guy?”

“I guess I never told you that story, did I?” said Autumn reflectively. “It all started one night when I snuck out of my house. I used to do that a lot even before I met the rest of them. It was fairly easy at my old house – it was only one story, and we didn’t have any sort of burglar alarm or anything. I would slip out, go to a nearby road, climb a tree, and just sit up there and watch the people below. The strange thing is that, in all my time there, the only one who looked up was Greg, and that was because I called to him. He was being chased, see, and he looked so small and helpless I couldn’t just sit and watch. So I called down to him, and up he looked, and up he came.

“It seemed like forever before those chasing him came, but we needn’t have worried. They didn’t even stop by the tree. They just ran on by. They were a strange-looking group, too – all dressed in black cloaks, you couldn’t see a thing about them. I could tell they weren’t just angry shopkeepers or police, though.

“When we were sure they were gone, Greg offered to introduce me to his friends, saying he felt he owed me at least that. I agreed – something about him made me curious.”

If Greg is anything like Brendan, I can see why, Maya thought, but she didn’t say anything.

“First he took me to a little warehouse, and gave me some different clothes to wear, so that I looked more like a guy. Apparently his friends didn’t take too kindly to girls – and besides, you didn’t want to be a girl on the streets at night. When I went out by myself I hadn’t gone very far, so it hadn’t been a problem, but with him I had to go farther.

“His friends accepted me quickly enough, and I began to meet with them every night. Ethan taught me to fight both with and without a knife, Daniel – the leader at that time, Greg’s cousin – gave me his special protection, and Greg and I grew closer. The disguise seemed to fool most of them. I don’t know if Brendan knew or just thought I was short and had a girlish voice, but he soon began to call me ‘Princess’. He said it teasingly, but there was always something serious in his eyes.

“They did find out eventually; I don’t know how. All I know is that one night, when I came to our usual meeting spot, I couldn’t see anyone – and then the next moment there was a dagger at my throat.

“I don’t really remember much of the fight. I see it in snapshots, little fragments. I don’t think there was much blood involved. Mostly I remember Daniel’s snarling face, furious at being tricked, and me running.

“Somehow, I ended up winning. Brendan told me later that I had jumped off a tree branch and landed on top of Daniel. All I remember is me standing above him, holding his dagger pointed at his throat, breathing hard, and the world fading back into focus around me.

“That was when it stopped being fun and games, and started being serious. Daniel had tried to kill me, and from what I gathered the others had been prepared to let him. My victory had made me their leader, and I tried to use it to get rid of them, but it didn’t work. And to tell the truth, I wasn’t really trying my hardest. Much as I hate to admit it, I didn’t want to lose contact with them. Daniel, maybe… but Ethan? Greg? Brendan? No. Not really. I know that, now.”

There was silence for a moment, then very softly, so that Maya had to lean forward to hear, Autumn whispered, “I saw Brendan yesterday for the first time in months. I was wandering by the forest and I heard something, and then there he was, calling ‘Princess’ with a smile… I don’t remember the last time I was that happy.”

Maya felt a strange emotion well up inside her. She wanted to look away, but she couldn’t. One of the candles flickered and died.

It wasn’t until later that she remembered her question, and realised that Autumn had never answered it.
© Copyright 2006 Black Cat (blackcat11 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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