Swan Lake

 “Odette!” Svenja screamed up the stairs, “for heaven’s sake you are going to be the joke of the day if you are late!” “I’m coming mother!” Odette replied with an irritated manner. Odette was now 15 and as peppy as a young beagle. She enjoyed her rather spacious bedroom that her mother kindly designed for her, and she spent her days going through her colour periods and playing the harp.  Svenja wasn’t a wondrous motherly figure to Odette; therefore Odette was a rather outgoing youth, always getting a slight kick out of breaking the rules.

   She recalled the night before with a small gavel betwixt her hands she spake thusly: “Mother I shall not attend tomorrows affair.” The gavel was beyond Svenja’s comprehension but she suspected that Odette was up to no good as usual, and so sat down in a chair and resorted to alcahol. 
   This affair was to wed Odette and Fakir together due to his interest in Odette – but entirely mistaken of course. His queen-like actions with Friedhelm were more than enough proof to show he wasn’t in love with Odette – so the family took it upon themselves to arrange a marriage. Svenja and Odette simply had to grit their teeth and bear the gear grinding nattering of Fakir's mother.

   Odette descended the spiral staircase in her frilled dress to meet Svenja’s impatient eyes. With her hands on her hips Svenja sighed roughly and waved her gloved hand towards the door.

   “Why must we go?” Odette peered out of the carriage window. “Sit back and straighten up young lady?” Svenja snapped. “Tell that to Fakir” Odette smirked. Svenja sighed and adjusted Odette’s beautiful amber coloured hair. Odette tossed her head aside in annoyance and slumped back into the velvet seats.

Svenja inspected Odette’s dress by tightening Odette’s corset – she never tied it up properly – she huffed when she discovered however, that Odette had none on. “Where is your corset?” she glanced a fiery eye at Odette. Odette simply turned her head and yawned. Svenja lifted the hem of the dress to find, “And no undergarmens?!” she hissed. 
   “What is the problem?” Odette asked. 
   “You are not properly dressed!” 
   “Who is to say what is proper?”
   “Why must you do this?”
   Odette sat up, “If it were proper to walk around naked at teatime would you follow?” she quoted her own mother. Svenja sat back and pouted grimly. “Emmerich would have laughed,” she said. Svenja huffed. “I’m sorry mother” she placed a hand on Svenja’s knee. “I’m not exactly in the happiest of moods” Odette smiled. Svenja yet again huffed and looked at Odette. “Can you give me a smile?” she asked. Odette gave an etiquette grin and that pleased her mother. 
    They trundled over a bump in the road which bounced a button off Odette's dress, revealing some cleavage. Svenja was a little less than pleased. "Utterly hopeless you are!" she snorted. 

  “Are you nervous?” Svenja asked. Odette didn’t answer. “I know I was” Svenja continued, with a smile of pride, “the man I was given to was hardly fitting for me as you well know” she shed a single tear. Odette sighed and shuffled about in her seating. “Are you listening Odette?” Svenja asked. “Well I hear you talking” Odette decided to be witty which irritated Svenja.

   Upon arrival a footman dressed in an emerald green coat, helped Svenja out of the carriage and handed her a wooden scepter. Odette was expected to just shimmy out of the carriage in a very undignified manner however Svenja held out a hand to prevent Odette slipping in the mud. The footman marshalled them down the front gardens which were spectacularly tended, and they reached the door.

   The manor of Fakir’s upper family was like a maze. Stair way after stairway, corridor after corridor and finally several arched alcoves which Odette did not much like passing. This house was quite an achievement from what they used to dwell within, but strangely this did not cross people's minds. They were then shown through to a large living room area decked out with many marvelous objects, golden ornamonts, stuffed beasts and beautiful paintings. The room was full of people, some from other countries and some from the King's court. Fakir was seated in a large periwinkle candy cane striped armchair. His vicious and acidic tongued mother stood next to him proudly, like an adder waiting to strike. 

   She made a gesture to Fakir allowing him to approach Odette. Odette curtseyed politely and Fakir bowed. He took her arm and they took a walk down the hallway out of the eyesight of his mother. 

   Svenja was with Fakir’s father. “So glad to see you Svenja” he said kissing her hand. “I’m so sorry Nanny could not join today” Svenja sniffled. The father nodded solemnly. “Her pneumonia has worsened”, Svenja whimpered. The mother advanced to Svenja passing the champagne waitresses. “You’re late” she said viciously. “I know, I appologise” Svenja bowed her head in shame, “Oh never mind!” the mother snapped and turned away. 

   “Forgive her,” said the father, “she has been planning this affair for several years now, she does not want it spoilt.” Svenja nodded and took a glass of wine. She had always been closer with Fakir's father than his mother; as Fakir's father was less interested in marriage into another family, he was the first to spot something different about his son. And due to the fact that the mother was ecceedingly obsessive about marriage, she is still oblivious.

   “My you have grown Odette, I’m glad you are doing well” Fakir had Odette’s arm in his as they took a stroll through the many corridors. Odette simply made monosyllabic conversation for – when in doubt, remain silent as she was always told.
    “Fakir surely you of all people do not approve of this marriage?” Odette was convinced he wasn’t. Fakir only grinned and looked up at the highly embelished ceiling. 
    Odette began to think; perhaps I may marry and simply let him off. “Freidhelm wouldn’t approve either” Fakir said, “you won’t tell mummy, she would go round the bend.” He turned to Odette. “Why should I keep the secret when I’m not the one sneaking around behind the backs of those that trust me, sleeping with the princes’ messenger boy?” Odette gave a quiet smile. Fakir scoffed and slightly slapped Odette’s arm. "That is an utter lie! We're just... very... close friends."

As they walked along the corridor they reached Fakir's bedroom, “Shall we?” he asked politely. Odette smirked, "My my Fakir, you do get a woman into your bedroom quickly." Fakir scoffed and slapped her behind as she entered. He closed the door behind him.

   “Now Odette” he began, “I trust your mother has entered you into elocution lessons, has she not?” he asked. Odette didn’t answer, only stared in confusion. “I cannot have you facing my mother with a devious tongue like yours” he said. Odette gaped. “So I will take it upon myself to teach you’ he said rather smugly. His mother was notorious for her unbelievably high standards, and so all Fakir can do is worry. 

   “Oh bugger off!” Odette snapped. “You don’t seem to hesitate with the swearing?” Odette flipped him off to add insult to injury. “Fine if you insist, we will get all of those nasty swears out of you!” Fakir stood up and took Odette’s hand, “Stand up!” Odette obeyed, “swear at me Odette!”

“You buggering… beastly bastard” she said. “Is that the best you can pull off?” he asked, “There are ruder ones.”

“Shit” she said.
“I can’t hear you…”

“Shit!” she shouted. “Come one let it out!” Fakir composed his arms.
“Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!” she shouted running around the room, flailing her arms and dress hems.
“Do you know the ‘f’ word?” Fakir asked.
“F… f… fuck?” Odette stammered. “Let it out” Fakir composed.
"Tits!" she shouted. She and Fakir began to dance around the room without any thought of eitquate.

   They were interrupted by a one of Odette’s lady’s in waiting at the door. “Madam Odette?” she asked. Odette straightened her dress, “Yes?” 
“The lady of the house would like to see you” she left. Fakir began to laugh as Odette left the room.

   Odette found Fakir’s mother inside the halls of the library. “Ah Odette, come walk with me?” her kindness was contrived but Odette only chose to ignore it. The mother, Mazir, took Odette’s arm in hers and they walked down the halls with dress hems swaying in unison. “I wish to lay down some ground rules before you marry my son.” She said to Odette who was most likely in a world of her own. “I must tell you of his habits and faults, be wary of them” she turned to Odette who was focusing on something different, “Odette are you listening?” She snapped and tugged at Odette’s arm. Odette kept her focus on what she was looking at. “What are you looking upon?” Mazir became impatient. 
    “I’m sorry Mazir but you’ll have to excuse me…” Odette loosened her grip and run off down the halls. Mazir stamped her boot and pouted. “Your curiosity will get you into serious trouble one of these days!” she prophesized. Mazir stormed off and began to rant to the passing staff about her failure to lecture her future daughter in law.

   Odette scampered off down the halls to find what she had seen. She swore it was some great crimson pigeon. Some strange eerie glow was left behind from it, which she followed. Down the corridors it led her to a strange office like bureau area, ladened with tapestries, paintings and chests also with several viridian doors: each with a golden number on it. Now she was very confused and debated whether or not to find everyone else who could help her, and return to the affair. But her eyes caught a red glow from underneath one of the doors. The glow flickered vigorously much like fire which burned Odette's curiosity.

   A crackle and sizzle of flames sounded from behind the door and the wooden beams holding the doors began to sunder. Odette immedeately thought a fire had begun behind the door and wondered whether anyone was inside. Hesitantly she reached for the handle, but backed away and then she was sure she heard a voice from inside, which made her wrench the door open.

    In a wave of burning flame she was pushed away, she raised her arms to shield herself from the embers. A whipping tongue of a flame darted at her to warn her like a snake. She peered through the gap between her arms and witnessed the fire pirouette in a flourish of burning fury, transform into a strange sight. 
    Amidst the descending tempestuous flame, there was a moment of magic, a tiny second of anticlimatic depiction upon what is real and what is not, was the great red pigeon Odette had seen before? It spotted her and froze to study her face.
    “Odette?” it mumbled. Odette stiffened in surprise before the bird rose up in flame and escaped through a small gap in a bookcase, with a small squeaky pop.

    Odette cautiously entered the singed room, flapping away the intoxicating smoke. She studied the office, or what was left of it. Several chests of drawers, harboring various writing materials. Suddenly the two bookcases standing tall began to creak and fall. Odette screamed while covering her head and waited for the pain of wood on bone. But the bookcases hit eachother creating an arch above her and all she suffered was a shower of burned mysterious books, which Odette could only assume from the intriguing titles: Dryads and Their Ways. Doomsday Imminence, that she wasn't supposed to be there. 

   She looked around the bookcase where the bird had disappeared. Feeling around the burnt books she found a lose atlas that slid forward. First came a loud click like a door handle slipping into place, then a groaning howl of gears waking up after time and beginning to turn around. The Bookcase began to stir and slide to the side with an allmighty crunch.

   Odette jolted back and watched the bookcase grind to a halt, revealing a dark passage lined with grime-swallowed bricks. She peered into the darkness, feeling a warm breeze fly out. She looked behind her to see if anyone had followed. Noticing that no one had she peered closer. 
   A steep flight of steps descended down and down into the dark until Odette couldn’t see the bottom. Her curiosity was getting the better of her now; she could not pass something like this up. Taking a firm grip on her dress she boldly walked down the steps.

    She walked carefully down the bizarre shaping of steps making sure her heels did not trip her on the ragged brick. Milky grey walls were lit up by the occasional tea-light held up on the wall. The direction of the steps was confusing and limitless. Every single turning was different, changing posture and position to something completely alien. 
    The air was musty and warm, leaving grimy dew on her arms and face. The walls began to grow sticky, laced with some strange powdery substance that easily flew off into Odette’s eyes. 
 

   When she finally found a natural light, she was led into a long empty tunnel, with a clear body of water flowing down it. Like a riverside only, man made. A river? Underground? Impossible! How could water run freely underground? Separate from the earth? 
   She could not see where it ended or started. The water seemed to have a current, which would only mean that it was coming from somewhere. She wasn’t keen on finding out where it was going but wanted to know where it came from. Glancing down the tunnel where the current was directing from, she could see it was lighter. Perhaps an exit? A Way out?

   Lifting up her dress once again she made her way down the tunnel towards the light. The water flow seemed to become louder as she came closer. She kept a steady hand on the damp stone wall, tracing her fingers along the cracks. When her tracing was interrupted by a new sensation of rusted metal, she glanced over. 
   A great metal door with large intricate locks stood in the wall all high and mighty. She studied the locks and felt along the curled bolts. The bolts shifted slightly with a ragged grind.

   Suddenly a loud screaming that came louder and closer startled her. She briskly turned to see a skin coloured blur jump at her and pin her down. Slamming down onto the stone floor the creature scampered up and down her body, examining her. 
    She screamed and tried to bat it off her, but the creature threatened to bite. It was as large as a small cat. It had large bat like ears with owl like eyes that synchronized with Odette’s. Frog legs, finished with small monkey feet. The hands were the strangest part: human hands with long index fingers that stretched out about 60cm longer than average.

    The finger poked and prodded at Odette’s face: stabbing at the eyes and exploring inside Odette’s mouth. Odette attempted to speak but the creature threw itself at her, gabbed her collar and placed its long finger on her lips. “Shush, shush!” It hushed Odette, “you do not ask questions!” Odette couldn’t say anything now. She was far to confused. 
   “Excuse me?” she tried to speak but again the creature stopped her. It tightened its grip on her and began to shake her violently, “Do you hear what I’m telling you?” It screamed, “For someone with all the questions, you sure are a terrible listener!” It brought its scary eyes right next to Odette’s and gazed deep into them. Odette then became impatient and flung the creature off her.

   “Who the hell are you?” she brandished herself with a branch that floated in the water. The creature put its hands on its hips and sighed, “Okay, okay” it began until Odette screamed and flung the branch at it. She ran off down the tunnel to see what she would find.

    She came to a large fountain like structure that seemed to be the source of water flow. Several gargoyles stood at attention above the fountain, bowing their heads. Odette ignored them and walked closer to the fountain. She heard a grinding sound of slate on slate above her. She stopped and looked up. The gargoyle’s head shifted and faced her. They eyes burned like fire and Odette fell backwards in shock.

    The gargoyle wrenched itself out of the wall and fell down to face her. It was a great stone griffin, with legs of a lion and head and wings of an eagle. Odette screamed and backed away. The griffin cawed loudly at the other gargoyles that sat on the walls. The first was a Nixie, and the second was Goblin. The Goblin did glib and made settlement on the fountain, attempting to quench his thirst from the water. The Nixie slid into the water and played a pipe to a frog that willingly listened.

    “Why are you here?” the griffin growled. Odette stammered. “Come on. Come on! Speak up girl!” he bellowed. The Goblin chuckled through his water. “Oh give up Beelzebub! She can’t be forced into an answer when she has us before her!” he chortled.
   “Me thinks so too.” The Nixie replied.
   “Odette” Odette shouted, startling the creatures, “my name is Odette!” she concluded.
   “Odette?” the Nixie began, “how pretty a name you have.” It smiled. Odette smiled in reply and the Goblin nodded. The griffin sat like a dog. “You have not answered my intended question.” The griffin cocked his stone head. Odette hesitated for she was worried about trespassing. “I was exploring…” she began. The Goblin began to giggle.

    “Trespassing is the proper term,” the griffin noticed Odette’s expression, “but I personally do not feel you are doing any harm by being here.” The Nixie and Goblin threw a face at the griffin. “Do you seek something?” the Goblin asked. Odette shook her head. The Nixie smiled and swam over to Odette, trailing it’s stone body through the water. 
    “I know something you may find of interest.” It whispered into Odette’s ear. The griffin stomped it’s foot and the Goblin began to laugh even harder. “What?” Odette asked the griffin. The Nixie grabbed Odette’s hand, “Something beyond regular description.” It said. Odette smiled and became interested.

    The Goblin clapped his hands. “Nox!” it called. A muffling, shuffling, scuffling noise came from inside the walls and out of the fountain, popped a small skin coloured creature. 
    “Oh no…” Odette sighed when she spotted the creature from earlier. It handed the Goblin a key and quickly scurried away from sight. “What is that strange creature?” Odette asked the griffin. 
    “Oh that? Oh that’s a Cavern Knocker, worst of critters but make a great servants.” It looked slightly bothered by it, which Odette quietly observed amusingly. 
    The griffin approached the fountain and trailed his claw along the stone of the bowl. The scratch amplified with a metallic echo that tingled the hairs on the back of Odette’s neck. The fountain shifted and then began to revolve around and around. Then it twirled into the ground revealing a door. The Goblin placed the key into the hole and listened for a loud clank. 
 

    The door opened with a brazen clang opening a large dark walkway. The Goblin and Nixie took hold of Odette’s hands and led her through the dark. They muttered excited things about what she was about to find and how much she would marvel. The griffin followed behind and closed the door on their way in.

Svenja was seated next to the father. He seemed full of dignity. Not fearful but full of acceptance. He and Svenja had been discussing something of great concern. Something that had been troubling Nanny for one. “Rothbart is at large?” Svenja asked not facing the father. He inhaled deeply. “I do not wish the other guests to know about this, it would only convey more and more to others.” His voice became ragged with fear. 
   “How do you know?” Svenja asked.
   “Fakir studied sorcery many a year ago with a mysterious man known as Eric Von” the father began, “Fakir became concerned and decided to investigate such a man, and in doing so he discovered his full name, Rothbart.” Svenja sighed, “But how does that?” she began. 
   “Fakir received a notice from Rothbart about his rise to power.” The father stood up and faced Svenja with a fearful look in his eyes.
   “He will return tonight,” he said, “innocent blood shall be spilt and servant and master shall reunite again once more.” Svenja paused but did not say a word as he walked away.

Svenja leapt up and all kinds of fear crowded into her mind. She feared for Odette’s safety even more than her own. She rushed to find Odette along the maze like rooms and corridors. Not being able to find her however only confirmed her fears. 
    Remembering that Fakir was Rothbart’s apprentice, she tried to find him. She rushed through the halls shouting Fakir’s name. “Fakir! Fakir where are you?” she screamed. She almost tripped on her dress and saved herself by clutching on to a door. As it slid open she found Odette’s entire maidens congregated on chairs. Then she suddenly had an idea.

   She entered with her dignity intact, startling the maidens with her presence. They all stood to attention and curtseyed politely. She made a gesture for them to cease. “Now ladies I must protest,” Svenja began, “you are hardly my daughter’s maidens if none of you are at her side.” She began to walk around them. They all looked at each other for some sort of answer. Svenja stood and faced them. “I fear for Odette’s future” she walked towards a bookcase, “Odette will never reach a prosperous goal with that scrawny little queer of a boy.” The maidens giggled.

   “So I fear that I can only count on you girls.” She found a large book and hid it behind her gown. “I do not understand ma’am,” one of the girls said. Svenja smiled and shed a tear. She then revealed the book and opened onto a page. 
   “I am not much of a sorceress, but I know what to say,” Her voice frightened the girls, “so please whatever happens: take care of my little girl.” She opened a page and muttered a strange language beyond the girl’s comprehension.

They all suffered a painful and glowing transformation punctuated with effervescent waves of light and the enchantment of wings of white. They were swans.

Svenja handed the book to Fakir when she found him. He reluctantly took it for he knew what kind of book it was. “I need to perform this task.” She spoke to him in a brazen tone. “What is it my lady?” Svenja began to cry. “Turn Odette into a swan.”
“Why?”

                                                                                ****

    Three years had paced since. Her mind these days began to wonder, although her mother forbade it she liked to wander and explore her surroundings. She admired her own ideas - that began when she first boosted her own deviance level when he became pubescent - that involve breaking some sort of rule of a kind. She descended from her room window, climbing down the thorny roses that held tightly to the wall.

    Pricking her fingers several times she began to lose her balance upon the unstable trellis holding the nuisance of a plant given the situation. She ended up dropping off the wall into a rose bush below her.

    Adjusting the twisted branches off her white nightie she courageously leapt from the bush and explored the area. Due to her mother's over protectiveness, she barely ever saw the garden. She only came out on the special occasion when she was to sing to the visitors upon a birthday or coming of age ceremony for some random relative of whom she neither cared for nor knew. The garden seems almost alien to her for she never truly spent time to study it.

    The hanged blossom trees attached to a, what seemed to be, gnawed at wooden stump. It wouldn't be long before these magnificent trees would fall into the circle of idolaters; Svenja says. Wandering through the gentle blades of viridian she contemplated her life on a general scale. Rather serious for her nature but the calm blissful setting made her feel like questioning her existence, almost to force an answer.

    She ruffled her nightie to release the remaining thorns from their grip upon her. She decided to act in a rather childish manner and skip away down the garden. Gripping two corners of the nightie she skipped gaily down the grassy surroundings. Hearing a nostalgic sound of running water she was intrigued to find out why the sound of water could be heard.

    She discovered she could go no further due to a stone wall: grey and molded with hungry roses swallowing up the stones - blocking her way. She enjoyed the rush of mischievous thoughts and pushed herself even further. She grinned smugly and attempted at scaling the wall. She got half way and could see where she was going to end up. 

    Large dense woodland like setting shrouded in mist. The trees were tall and thin, withered from never being tended to. She thought the gardener, where ever they are should tend to these poor trees. In the distance however is what made her truly excited.  Through the thick fog she could he a silhouette of a grand accommodation. She gaped in awe of what she could see. Still making the surprised expression she continued her ascent up the wall.

    Settling herself on the top, where the roses weren't so frequently scratchy, she took some time to study what she could see once again. She secretly adored architectural layouts of buildings. Which was probably why she wished for the largest adorned room in the house when she was allowed her own? Studying closely she could see the iconic symbolic crests and sculptures of the royal family. 

    Upon the back entrance arch was a stone bird like creature. From where she was she could not examine what it may have been but she did not like what it was all the same. She pushed herself off the wall and landed perfectly in a heap of clovers. Naturally like any explorative child may do she took her time to find a four leaved one.

    And naturally again she could not. Remembering the sound of water she was bewildered to see glistening of liquid in the distance. She knew very well from her mother that the garden of Seigfreid had no body of water to compliment the power of the family that lived there. Although the presence of swans: was considered 'wealthy'.

    She walked quickly towards it passing tree after tree until she reached a marshy area next to a large pool of water. She was so surprised to find such a thing. She took no notice of why or how it was there, she simply sat on a dry area of marsh and listened to the sound of the flowing water. She glanced around to study her surroundings; mainly trees stretched their arms out above her. A passing tawny owl settled next to her.

    She turned and made a delighted kind of gesture to signal interest. The owl cocked its head and hooted piteously. Confused Odette held out her hand to stroke it but it fluttered off. She felt almost abandoned for her soul began to drop; the hairs upon her neck began to rise so she stood up brushing off the dirt from her nightie. She could hear the sound of muffled, shuffled feet. She advanced forward into the water but was startled at the consistency.

    A drop reached her left cheek. It tasted warm and salty. She backed away and peered in the other direction. The sound of feet became strong and she grew tentative about her movements. She walked forward only this time she gripped the ground with her toes and stopped abruptly, thinking who may be behind her may hit her. They did not. 

    Her concentration was broken by an unnerving sensation in her arms. The individual limbs began to quiver and move uncontrollably. Up and down, left and right her arms moved. She whimpered and pulled away and felt a grueling backlash of force as she did. Reaching out away from her she clicked a bone out of place. She swiped her head around for the sound of feet was definite.

    Standing in the water was a cloaked figure; he walked forward into the moonlight and revealed himself. His face was disfigured and shaped like a beaked bird. Hair like black wires and twin horns writhed out from his head. His cloak plumed with black feathers. He threw wide his arms from his cloak and cawed outlandishly. She screamed and ran towards the stone wall but he managed to keep up and grabbed her arm, pulling her back.

    He was breathing heavily making Odette feel uneasy and increasingly terrified. She maintained freedom for a second before being pulled in once again. Stretching to the owl that sat on the wall she cried out for help. But the owl gave none. She slipped and fell backwards into his lap. He chuckled and lifted her upwards. Placing his hands under her shoulders he flipped her around and began to twirl her around like on a grand waltz hall.

    The hairs upon her arms stiffened and hardened into barb like spikes. Similar things happened to her neck hair. Her nightie rendered revealing her naked body. The figure quickly backed away into the shadows. Her small young breasts were enveloped in hard barbs that burst out of the skin. Tumbling into the water she rolled around through the agony.

    Her nose grew longer and stretched outwards, the skin hardened and changed from her youthful colour to a burned orange. Her bottom lip stretched upwards and joined her nose. The barbs grew larger and fluttered out white follicles. White feathers began to incase her innocent body; hairs upon her arms flurried outwards and became a magnificent pair of wings. Her spine swiped like a whip and ascended inside her neck forcing her head outwards. The legs split and contorted backwards like a bird. 

    After the agonising pain, all that was left was a beautiful white swan. Other swans of all ages and sized conjugated around her taking her away from her old life to a new one. The figure walked Svenja's frail body to the water's edge and pointed outwards to the water. Her sorrowful moans shivered the primaries of the owl that sat near by. It hooted sorrowfully and flew away down the lake. Clipping at Svenja's hair on the way.