Shannon M. Jonlee

There was something peculiar about the new surroundings Sonja had found herself in.  She had just woken up from an unexpected slumber, not sure what had happened for her to black out so suddenly.  Aside from the faint chirping of birds, her fuzzy wolf ears atop her head can't give her helpful clues.  Her right crimson eye couldn’t pick up on the changes on her body as her left golden one did, but she can only guess where here is.

From the gentle sniffs she gave off and her claws scratching the rough ground, it’s now clear she is in a cave.  Her breathing pinged off concave walls.  The sun was beginning to peek through the entrance ahead of her.  The stalagmites around her were chipped from wear and tear, and aren't tall enough to reach the ceiling.  The leaves that are scattered around the floor smells fresh.

“I don't remember this cave anywhere near my territory. I'm in the same forest… right?”

When she tried to sit up straight, there was a sharp pain in Sonja’s back and legs.  It felt as if her body was being pulled apart by horses.  She padded the freshly wrapped bandages across her plump body from the neck to her hips; she couldn't even rest her body against the wall, hissing at the piercing pain that came from her back.  Blood was loosely dripped out the moment she moved.  Thick sticks were tied to the sides of her legs, acting as though they supported her legs. Could they have been broken? The question just as important as how she got injured is who patched her up?

 

 It was as if someone had heard her thoughts, as there were incoming footsteps by the cave’s mouth.  Though unable to properly move, Sonja makes sure to put up a dangerous front, turning her body to face the entrance.  With a low growl, Sonja snaps at the intruder, using the beast within her as her weapon. 

“Whoever you are, don’t come any closer!  I’ll rip off your arms and use them to slice your head from your neck.”

“Well, it is good to know you are awake…”

A long hallway shrouded in shadow,

Air stagnant with dust and amaretto 

Many a door lie before you

The secrets they keep,

Should they be revealed? 

 

​

I think I have found an angel

soothing me with a hypnotic glimmer

It wasn’t heaven from where he had fallen,

but rather from the void of oblivion.

From your stoic brown eyes and hands so rugged

I cannot refrain from constant worry.

 

“Why come to me,” I pondered with worry,

“How could the universe send me an angel?”

When my life isn’t nearly as rugged,

but has hope like a star’s shining glimmer.

Lost within the spaces of oblivion,

despite countless others are lost or fallen.

 

I wish I knew how and why you have fallen.

Why your voice is calm but heart heavy with worry.

How could you rise from the ashes of oblivion,

when those around you corrupt your being as an angel?

Why do you offer this kind, warm glimmer,

to me instead of one whose pain is dangerously rugged?

​​

“Your Highness? May I have this dance?”

An overly eager voice breaks Saria out of her boredom, forcing her vision to adjust. A man with an eyesore of a purple tuxedo and lightly groomed features appeared, thrusting his hand out to her. Just one glance at him screams elitist deviant, and in a sea of ignorant rich people, this one is as forgettable.

“I’m sorry, but I have to decline the offer.”

The man's kind eyes turn sour at her answer, suppressing his anger by storming into the crowd. To Saria, this is predictable. A person would ask to do something, she would say no, and their true colors emerge through passive-aggressive actions. Never a sense of honesty in them, a princess would always know.

 

The night has only begun, and Saria is tired of watching her parents discuss the latest politics with the lords and ladies that gathered around them. She couldn't even see them learning what goes on in this kingdom. They perform the utmost duties, while their daughter fights off advances motivated by avarice. The stifled tick to tuck her ivory lock of hair behind her ear into waves of ebony made her uncomfortable in the lavishly lit ballroom. She has to escape.

 

Just before another “suitor” can approach her, the princess calmly walks away from her spot against the purple wall to follow a servant carrying a tray of champagne. The stone-faced woman looks back with confusion, turning around eerily smoothly.

“Your Highness? Would you like a drink?”

“No, thank you… I have a bit of a headache. Can you direct me to somewhere private? Please?”

​​