Hollow

She stepped through the rusty gate and approached the lever.  The cobblestoned pathway was rough; whoever used to take care of this place had long since stopped caring.  Tia could see the crumbling walls of the castle not far ahead, and the same negligence showed starkly in gaps and holes and large patches of wild ivy stretching along the stone walls in both directions.  She walked slowly, her pack heavy on her back, and stopped hesitatingly next to the long handle of the lever.

            Wandering has become a way of life to me, she thought suddenly.  Standing here, at the threshold of this giant ruin that no one has cared about for so long, seems a little too much like a destination to me.  It makes me nervous for some strange reason.  Even though I no more sought out this run-down castle than I have any other place I’ve been in the last five years, my arrival feels different.  Momentous.

            Tia didn’t like momentousness.  She didn’t care for ceremony.  And she certainly didn’t like feeling different than usual.  She looked down to where she had placed her hand on the ball-like top of the long-handled lever and frowned.

            I should leave, she thought.  Keep walking.

            But Tia didn’t turn around and head back out to the old, little-used road that led past the castle.  She stood staring at the lever for a little while longer and then suddenly, almost as though she couldn’t stop herself, pulled it firmly toward herself.  The old metal stick emitted a large creaking sound for a few moments, and then, just as abruptly, the noise shuddered to a stop.  Tia turned her attention slowly toward the walls of the castle, her face a mixture of dislike and resignation.

            These old places were all the same, and Tia, who had once enjoyed sightseeing, had been to several other such places many years in the past.  As she watched, the view in front of her changed: the holes in the outer castle wall jerked and blinked until they disappeared, the crumbling stone littered all around her seemed to shiver and shake until it finally vanished.  The blankets of ivy that shrouded the wall up ahead were replaced by shiny new stones.  It was as though a picture of a perfect wall had been placed in front of the old, real one.  Which, in actuality, was pretty much what had happened. 

This ruin had been rigged with holographic technology years ago, much like every other government-protected historical site maintained throughout the country.  Computer generated images masked the real site, creating an almost perfect scene of what it must have looked like long ago.  The only difference between this ruin and countless others like it, was that this castle no longer had a steady stream of tourists walking through it, taking in the sights and sounds of what it once was like.  For whatever reason, this castle was no longer open to the public, which, judging from the state of the grounds and lack of any traffic on the roads surrounding it for miles, was of no concern to anybody.

            Tia heaved a sigh, whether of relief or disappointment it was hard to tell, as the holograph groggily held its place over the decay.  Every few minutes the façade would twitch for a moment, as though trying to get comfortable after a long absence, and Tia would see the real, ruined stones briefly again.  But for the most part, the technology held.  She took a step forward, and then another, until she approached the wooden gate in the wall that led to the interior court.  As she neared, the wooden doors, now as shiny and fresh as if they had been cut and polished from a tree merely yesterday, swung creakily open in front of her and revealed the castle ahead in all its holographically refurbished glory.  A merry wave of sound engulfed her.

            Tia smiled, a little mockingly, as she advanced into the inner walls.  This place had obviously been one of the first models to be fitted out in this way back when they started doing it, as was evidenced by the ridiculously overly-bright and cheerful colors all around her.  Banners, tapestries, and elaborate costumes of every hue imaginable crowded the scene in front of her as far as the eye could see.  The costumes were worn by overly jovial holographic townsfolk: peasants going about their daily duties with silly smiles on their faces, hawkers booming their wares in sing-songy voices, and supercilious noblemen and women bowing graciously to each other in elaborate ceremony at every turn.  A group of musicians played their flutes and lutes nearby somewhere, and a singer gustily sang of legends of old.  The very picture of a prosperous, bustling medieval scene!

            Ridiculous, Tia scoffed, walking quickly through the streets.  Every time the holograph glitched, the entire scene, sound included, shook slightly and blinked off and on again, and Tia could see what she was really walking through.  It made her laugh right out to see a young, glowing couple lean in for an embrace and then suddenly jerk to a stop, wiggle a little, and then completely disappear altogether, only to blink back into place to resume their kiss a moment later.  Absolutely ridiculous.

            She made her way through street after street, as she ascended a long path of shallow stairs leading up to the castle itself.  The glitching picture allowed her to see, every so often, the true structure she was headed for: instead of a glowing, majestic, tower-topped  castle, a  charred, crumbling mess of stone, the tallest tower a broken claw of wreckage.  All in all a heap of defeated rubble.  As with all castles that were fitted with holographic restoration, any rubble that had fallen in the streets and alleyways had long since been cleared away to prevent accidents, and the bareness of the streets, during the glitches, only seemed to emphasis how shell-like, how desolate, this ruin really was.

            Finally, after climbing for another good ten minutes, Tia left the city streets behind and approached the giant doors of the castle itself.  A line of brightly bedecked trumpeters marched out and raised their instruments to their lips, tooting a lively fanfare to announce her arrival.  How pathetically trite.  Tia winced.

            After a pause, and another glitch, a man appeared in the doorway and sauntered toward her.  He was wearing a very magnificent (and very stupid-looking) costume, complete with multicolored tunic and leggings and jewel-bedecked codpiece.  He had a giant orange feather sweeping down from his velvety hat, and his face was bearded.  He was young and handsome, his expression gloatingly merry.

            “Welcome my lords and ladies to the castle of King Stephan and Queen Sofia, monarchs of the realm and protectors of all you see.  I am Sir Timothy, your noble and honored guide.  Please, step inside to view their Majesties’ full glory and magnificence.”

            Tia rolled her eyes as a holographic carpet rolled from inside and stopped just at her feet.  Sir Timothy had taken his hat off and was bowing low over it, one hand gesturing grandly for her to precede him inside.  She curbed the impulse to wave a hand through his non-existent body.  Honestly, what am I some giddy little school girl on her first tour? she thought laughingly as she passed him and stepped into the castle.  Her smile faded as she recalled how apt that description once had been.   Tia stared ahead of her stonily, slamming the walls of her memories shut with brutality, looking around with renewed cynicism.

            It was breathtakingly beautiful, the interior, if one was interested in such things.  Opulence, vibrancy, and finesse were in every detail of the furniture, décor, and people surrounding her.  Every color was present, every luxury indulged, and all in perfect and charming historical detail.  The holographic servants were liveried and obsequious and the mingling noblemen and women dressed in furs and jewels made Tia’s eyes almost water they were so bright.  Sir Timothy began a long monologue describing everything Tia was seeing as he led her through room after room, antechamber after antechamber.

            It was all supposed to be leading up to the grand finale, that much Tia allowed herself to remember.  And in a way, it actually was.  Even as cynical as she was, Tia couldn’t help feeling a sense of anticipation as they neared the throne room.  Sir Timothy grew more and more animated, hinted at things she could only dream of.  He was practically running ahead of her to get there.  Even the glitches stopped being funny to her; she found herself growling in frustrated impatience as one happened right outside the throne room door.  Sir Timothy’s face jerked and disappeared as he placed his hand on the doorknob, only to reappear moments later.

            “Honored guests, follow me,” he said in a reverential tone and pushed the door inward.  Tia found she was holding her breath as she slipped after him through the doorway.

            She stood in awe at the end of a large hall.  A royally red velvet carpet led up to a raised dais which held two magnificent thrones.  Seated in the thrones were the two most beautiful people Tia had ever seen.  King Stephen had golden hair and a glowingly kind face.  His robes were all silk and jewels and he had a golden scepter in his hand.  Next to him, his queen sat, serene and untouchable, every detail of her face and clothing so perfect she almost seemed to be made of colored glass.  Tia knew she had never beheld a lovelier face, nor one so pure.  As she stood staring, her mouth slightly agape, at the end of the carpet, Queen Sofia lifted her perfectly pale hand and gestured for Tia to approach.  Her heart racing, Tia picked her right foot up and moved to set it down on the carpet.  The King nodded and opened his mouth to speak.

At that exact moment, the holograph glitched, stretched, bounced, and all sound came to a stuttering halt.  The picture blinked off. 

Tia froze, her foot still midair.  She waited breathlessly for it to start back up.  But it did not.

“Pretty lame, huh?” she heard a low voice drawl, and spun to see who had spoken.  Sitting on a crumbling stone in a back corner of the hall was a man.  He stood up and walked slowly toward her.

“What a joke, eh, all this,” he said gesturing around at the decrepit room.

“Who are you?” Tia whispered, completely disoriented by this sudden return to reality.  The starkness of the room, the sudden silence, the dust and cobwebs.  And the sound of a human, a real human, voice in such startling contrast to the musical tone of Sir Timothy.  The man stopped a few feet away from her and shook his head.

“Can you believe this place used to be popular?” he asked smirking, gesturing around at the dirt and grime.  “People paid to see this!”  Tia took a step backwards.

“My name’s Jack,” the man said, holding out his hand.  Tia took another step backwards. “Sorry to startle you.  I heard the holo running from the road and had to come see who had turned this old thing on.”  Tia still didn’t say anything; she was waiting for him to continue.

But what she really wanted was for Jack to disappear.  Whoever he was, and for whatever reason he had decided to follow her, she didn’t care.  Why couldn’t he leave and let her get back to what she had been doing? Why did he have to speak up at that particular moment, right at that very specific moment, and ruin it all?  Why had he shut the holo off?

“Well?  You alright?” Jack asked, his brows knitting at the stunned look that still held onto her face.  “I really didn’t mean to startle you.”

“What did you do?  Turn it back on.  Now.” Tia finally ground out.  She was surprised and more than a little disturbed to find that she was trembling a little.

“What did I do?” Jack retorted, “I didn’t do anything.  The holo shut off by itself.  It always does right at that moment.  It’s broken.  Why would I turn it off?”  Tia felt a shuddering resignation pass through her whole body as she turned back toward the dais.  The dais that was no longer there of course.  Neither were the thrones, or the man and woman.  It had all disappeared and would not be coming back.

“Uh, are you ok?” Jack’s voice came from behind her, concerned.  “You seem… really bothered about… all this.”

“No, of course, it’s fine.  Sorry to be so weird.”  Tia turned back toward him, grimacing awkwardly in apology.  “Of course it’s not a big deal.  You’re right.  This place is a joke.”  She waved around the room, much like he had done only moments before.  “I’m not at all surprised to find out it doesn’t even work.”  She tried to croak out a laugh, but it sounded more like a strangled sob.  In embarrassment, she turned and hurried out of the room, back the way she had entered.

“Hey, wait up,” Jack called after her and she heard him sprinting to catch up.  “Mind if I walk back with you?”  She just shrugged in reply and kept walking.

“You’re quite the walker,” he said, a little out of breath, as she lead the way through the long corridors of the abandoned castle.  Everything around her was dark and gloomy without the holo on to light the way, but she didn’t stumble.

Tia’s journey back down through the rest of the castle and through the town couldn’t have been any more different than it had been on the way up.  The castle walls lay in shambles around her, there were no colors other than varying shades of gray, and absolute silence accompanied their descent back toward the gate.  Just as the holo had glitched every so often on her way up, revealing the true state of her surroundings, Tia’s memory ‘glitched’ every so often on the way down, reminding her of the glorious façade she had so recently been wrapped inside.  I will not cry, I will not cry, she chanted mentally as she increased her pace.  In less than a third of the time it had taken her to climb to the top of the castle she was out the front gates, sprinting past the rusty old lever by the entrance.

“Hey, wait up,” Jack called as Tia hit the road and continued to race away.  “Where are you going?”

“Nice to meet you, I’ve really got to be getting on,” Tia called over her shoulder, her pack bouncing up and down against her back.

“Wait, please wait!” he yelled, but his voice receeded at a rapid rate as she continued on her way without pausing.

“Must… keep… running,” Tia panted to herself as she ran along.  With each step away from the castle, her memories faded further and further in the distance as well.  She ran for what seemed like hours like that, her emotions propelling her onward even as her body begged to be given relief.  Only when the sun was starting to set and Tia had reached the outskirts of a small country village did she allow herself to slow to a walk.  She dragged her feet through the narrow streets, exhausted, until she found a common house where she could eat and spend the night.

“Dinner, for one,” she grated out, when the proprietor of the establishment approached her in the doorway.  He led her to a small booth tucked away in a corner and she sank onto the old wrinkled leather bench gratefully.

Tia ate her dinner and stayed sitting, staring into nothing, far into the evening hours.  The common house was not busy, only locals came to partake of a meal during this season of the year, and so she was never bothered for her seat.  Memories played like shadows across Tia’s face as time slunk by.  She was startled, when, after going unnoticed for so long, an old woman approached her table toward the end of the evening.

“And where have you been today miss?” the old lady asked, slinking in to sit across from Tia in the booth.

“Um, I don’t recall inviting you to come sit with me,” Tia said softly, and then grimaced.  “I’m sorry,” she continued quickly, “I didn’t mean to say that.  I’m tired.  I don’t mean to be rude.”  She averted her eyes, hoping the woman would take the hint and leave.

“Let me guess, you’ve been to see the old castle?” the woman said, unperturbed.  Tia’s attention snapped back to her face.

“Thought so,” the old lady laughed, “I can see it on your face.”

“What do you mean?” Tia whispered, “On my face?”

”It’s the same with all you wandering types,” she said.  “You find old King Stephen’s ruin and pass a few hours exploring it.  You have a few laughs and underestimate how much of a hike it really is and then wear yourselves out walking all the way to this town so as to have a place to sleep when night comes.  Silly, all that trouble for something you scorn so much.”

“I didn’t laugh,” Tia whispered.  “I…”

“Oh sure you didn’t,” the woman puffed, “I bet you just thought it was so impressive.  And tell me, what was your reaction when the holo shut off right at the end?”  She gave Tia a knowing look.

“I didn’t laugh,” Tia said, her voice raising just a little in defensiveness.  “I… it’s none of your business what I did.  I didn’t come here to be preached to.”  She brought her hand down forcefully on the table and glared at the old woman who blinked in surprise.

“Well, what do you know,” the lady said in grudging acknowledgement.  “Well, and what it’s worth, I believe you.  I’ll leave you alone too, which is a lot from an old busybody like me.”  She got up and started to move away.  Tia immediately felt guilty, but was too tired to call the woman back to apologize again.

“Oh, by the way,” the woman said, not turning as she spoke.  “If you’ve a mind to it, there’s a picture of the throne room, back when the holo used to work right, at the top of the stairs over there.  You can look if you’d like.”

Tia sat another long while, and then, with a sense that someone other than herself was moving her worn out limbs, stood and climbed the short stairway.  She found herself gazing at an old wrinkled photograph in a worn wooden frame. 

As she looked longingly at the scene, her memory making up for the oldness of the picture, she let her gaze travel from detail to detail.  She once again took in the splendor of the décor, the magnificence of the colors.  She let her eyes linger longest on the king and queen, her heart aching to walk the short distance on the red carpet toward them.  She could even, almost, hear the sound of the royal trumpets, touting her arrival.  A smile came to her mouth, a small one, and with a touch of wistfulness, but a smile nonetheless.  Her hand reached up to caress the image.

Her hand stilled.  She looked more closely, and then even closer still.  Surely that can’t be… she thought.  Her eyes squinted in concentration.

In the corner of the picture she saw the grinning face of Sir Timothy, just as she had seen him earlier that day.  But something was different, her perception had changed.  She looked even closer.  It… is, she thought in a stupor, I just didn’t realize it at the time.  Her heart sank to the bottom of her toes.

Sir Timothy looked exactly like, was, in fact, the same person as Jack.  Jack, the stranger who had followed her up to the throne room.  The one who had startled her, had laughed so scornfully at the holograph.  Jack was Sir Timothy; they were one and the same.  But how…?

“Oh, aye,” the old woman’s voice came from behind her, “That’d be Sir Timothy, our local favorite.  Best part of the tour, he is, wouldn’t you agree?”  Tia turned slowly to look at the woman.

“I met him,” she said, staring almost through her, “I spoke with him, in person, today.” 

“In person?  What do you mean?” the woman asked, perplexed.  “He’s just a holo.  He can speak to you, but it’s just a recording of some actor from years and years ago.  He can’t respond to you or anything.  Are you feeling okay, miss?”

“Uh, miss, are you ok?”  Jack’s voice floated in her ears, as though from a million years away.  That was today, wasn’t it? Tia wondered in confusion.  She was sure she had spoken with him, she was.  But she couldn’t remember when.

“Miss?  Miss?” the old lady’s voice came as though from far away. 

“I’m fine,” Tia whispered and pushed past her, down the stairs and out the front door.  She didn’t see anything as she walked away from the common house, the narrow streets, the village.  Her pack dropped to the ground unnoticed from her back as she walked.  Slowly but surely, she headed back down the deserted road, back toward the castle.

In no time she was standing, again, at the gates of the castle.  I ran for hours, Tia thought in confusion, to get to the village this afternoon.  Didn’t I?  Somehow it didn’t seem so important, so she let the question slip away from her consciousness.  She approached the lever and stared at it for a long hard moment.

As before, she felt compelled to pull it, even though the night had fallen long ago and there wasn’t much more to see it by than the faint light of a faraway moon.  Her hand itched to pull the lever.  She had to pull the lever.

I have to think about this, Tia said to herself in resolution.  This means something, something I don’t understand, but it’s very important.  If I pull it this time, I have to do it because I want to, because I choose to.  Her hand rested softly on the cold metal ball.

Slowly, and with great ceremony, Tia pulled the lever toward herself and the grinding sound met her ears for a short moment and then stopped, just as before.  Why do I feel like this isn’t only the second time I’ve done this? Tia wondered as the holo jerked and sputtered on once more.  She made her way through the wooden doors and into the inner walls without noticing the glitches in the façade.

Tia’s third, and final, journey through the castle village and up to the castle went quickly.  This time, instead of observing every detail of her surroundings, judging and condemning them, Tia stared straight ahead, her mind clear in her purpose.  The throne room, that’s all that matters, and that’s where I must get.  Quickly.

As before, at the castle doors, the trumpeters emerged and played a triumphant fanfare.

“Welcome my lords and ladies to the castle of King Stephan and Queen Sofia, monarchs of the realm and protectors of all you see.  I am Sir Timothy, your noble and honored guide.  Please, step inside to view their Majesties’ full glory and magnificence.”  Sir Timothy, or Jack, as she was sure she also knew him, smiled jovially, gesturing as though to a large group of sightseers.

“Jack,” Tia whispered, “Jack, is that you?  Do you remember me?”  Sir Timothy didn’t indicate that he had heard anything she said, merely bowed low over his arm, indicating with the other that she should precede him into the castle.  Tia moved slowly past him, her eyes never leaving his dazzling form as he followed her inside.

“Honored guests, follow me,” he said in the same reverential tone as before and moved down the magnificent hall. 

The trek through the rooms and antechambers of the castle was a very long one this time.  Tia wondered if they would ever reach the throne room.  Sir Timothy waxed eloquent on every picture, every jewel, every nuance of their surroundings.  She did not try to talk to him again; something inside her knew it would be pointless.  But she did stare at him a great deal, trying to figure out if there was something she should be feeling, something she should know about him other than that he was not real.  She found herself wondering if they knew each other somehow. 

At last they were at the doors of the throne room and Sir Timothy was gesturing for her to enter, his face wreathed in smiles.  Strange, Tia thought as she entered the throne room, I do not find him ridiculous at all this time.

Once again, King Stephen and Queen Sofia looked on with beatific kindness from their thrones and Tia’s heart began to race.  She approached the red carpet.  As before, Queen Sofia motioned for her to proceed and King Stephen opened his mouth to speak.  Tia’s heart nearly stopped.  Will they disappear?

They disappeared. 

Tia waited breathlessly for a voice to speak from behind her.  Would Jack be there again?  Is that what I’m waiting for?  Silence reigned.  No voice sounded.  She turned around slowly to contemplate the nearly pitch black corner.  There was no one there.

I missed my chance, Tia realized, and with the realization came the awareness that she had missed something much more important than she could fathom.  She turned and walked back the way she had come, out of the throne room and into the hall.  As she made her way down the dirty stone passageway, something niggled at the back of her mind.  How did she know exactly where to put her feet, even in the dark?  How did she know so completely the path she would now have to take through the twisted corridors back out of the castle and through the holo-free village?  How had she run so swiftly and surely down these halls earlier that day?  Why did she know, know with her whole soul, what the holo would be showing even now if it hadn’t glitched and shut off?  Why was this place so familiar to her?

She stopped, halfway down through the castle, and looked back the way she came, back toward the throne room.  Maybe…?

A feeling of last-chanceness, of absolute finality, settled over her as she looked back.  I have to try one last thing, she thought and made her way quickly back to the throne room.  Once back in the room, she closed her eyes and tried to picture, as well as she could, where everything had last stood when the holo shut off.  Unsurprisingly, the picture came easily to her mind and she opened her eyes, sure of where she needed to move to.  She walked right up to where the red carpet had stopped at the foot of the room.

Please.  Please, let this work.  Tia lifted her foot and took that one small step forward, placing her shoe down firmly on the non-existent carpet in front of her.

The whole world glitched this time, including Tia herself.  Everything shook, jerked, and waved.  She heard a grinding sound, much like the sound the lever at the foot of the castle had emitted.

The holo blared back up, suddenly jerking on in blinding brilliance.  Horns blared, people cheered, glorious colors of every shade and texture assaulted Tia from every direction at once.  The world spun as Tia tried to take it all in.  She looked down, startled to find she was wearing a long flowing golden gown.

It wasn’t a holo any longer.  She was… home.  She ran to her father and mother, on their beautiful thrones, ran down the velvety red carpet and threw herself at their feet, sobbing.

“Mother, Father,” she gasped as they as one shouted her name and reached down to cover her with hugs and kisses.

“Lornia, Lornia, my sweet, my darling girl,” Queen Sofia wept.  “We thought you lost for good!”

“Thank heavens you’ve returned safely to us,” King Stephen exulted.  “My dear, dear child.”

Tia, or rather Lornia as she realized now was her real name, and her parents spent long moments rejoicing in their reunion until a thought suddenly occurred to her.

“Jack!” she said, pulling back with a start.  “I mean Sir Timothy!  Where is he?  Where is he?”  Lornia’s memory had returned, and with it the knowledge that Sir Timothy was much more than a silly-looking guide in a tourist attraction from the future.  Sir Timothy was her heart’s desire, the love of her life, her betrothed.  All celebration came to a screeching halt in the throne room.  It was silent once again, although this time the picture did not disappear with the noise.

“Lornia, you don’t mean…” Queen Sofia gasped.  “But surely you brought him back with you…?”  Lornia looked frantically from her mother’s stricken face to her father’s equally grave one.

“What are you talking about?” she asked in a horrified whisper.

“Lornia, child, we sent him after you.  To find you,” her father said haltingly.  “Didn’t you see him… out there?”

“Out there?” Lornia asked in confusion.  She was already starting to forget where she had just come from.  “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t you remember anything dear?” her mother asked.

“Of what?”  She asked nervously.  Her father frowned grimly as though at an unpleasant memory.  He began to speak.

“You were standing at the foot of the carpet, about to come to us in your marriage ceremony to be wed to Sir Timothy, when you… disappeared.  You were just… gone.  Suddenly.  No one knew what to do for many long moments, we all just stared.  And then Timothy started shouting, rushed to where you had been standing.  Alstead, our head soothsayer, you know him well, stopped Timothy before he could step where you had stepped.  He told Timothy that you had been- sucked away- by something that we couldn’t understand.  Something even stronger than any magic or mysticism he knew or understood.  Timothy wanted to follow you, to chase after and find you, but Alstead said that this force didn’t work that way, that he did not know where you went, but that it wouldn’t work that way. He said the danger would be that if Timothy followed you he wouldn’t remember who he was or what he was looking for once he reached the place you had been taken to.  Alstead warned Sir Timothy that you could both be lost forever.

“Timothy wouldn’t listen,” Lornia’s mother cut in softly when she saw the growing look of horror rising on Lornia’s face.  “And I must admit that I didn’t care what Alstead was saying very much either.  I wanted Sir Timothy to follow you too, to find and rescue you from whatever terror you had been whisked away to.  Your father thought it was worth the risk as well.  He told Timothy to go, to bring you back.  Nothing Alstead could say made any difference.  Timothy stepped where you had stepped, and was gone in an instant.”

“But how long ago was this?  How long have I been gone?” Lornia asked in growing anxiety.  “Days?  Months?”

“Minutes,” her father said softly.  “Moments.”

“But I was… where I was, for years…” Lornia stuttered, unsure of herself.  “Or at least I think so…”

“Alstead would know more,” her mother said kindly, patting her reassuringly on the arm.

“Yes, Alstead!” Lornia cried.  “Where is he?  Surely he will know where Timothy has gone!”  She looked around frantically for the wizened old man.

“Alstead followed you too,” King Stephen said sadly, shaking his head.  “After Timothy stepped through, after you.  Alstead said the only way any of you would return was if he went and tried to follow you.”

“So Alstead is out there too, lost and unremembering, all because of me?” Lornia asked in a choked voice.  “It’s all my fault.  This is entirely my fault.”

“My darling, what are talking about?” her mother soothed.  “You had no idea that what happened would happen.  No one is at fault here.  Especially not you.”

“Timothy is gone,” Lornia whispered, “lost to me forever.”

“Time will heal that wound,” her father said sorrowfully, “as best it can.  But at least we have you back again, my jewel.  At least you are safe.  That’s all that matters.  That is all Timothy would care about.  We will have to accept what fate has dealt us and move forward.”

“No,” Lornia said in a soft, low voice, “No.”

“What do you mean, my child?” her mother asked, her forehead wrinkled in concern.  “You can’t mean…”

“Yes, I am going back,” Lornia said, her voice rising as she rose from where she had been kneeling at her parents’ feet.  “They went to find me, Timothy and Alstead, and I will do the same for them.”  She walked slowly toward the foot of the velvet carpet.  “A life without Timothy is no life at all.”

“Lornia, don’t be foolish,” her father said, rising from his throne.  Her mother rose to, in growing panic. 

“Stephen, stop her!” the queen shouted as Lornia neared the end of the fabric.

“Mother, Father, I love you, but this is something I have to do.  I will see you again.”

“Guards, stop her!” her father shouted at the sentries standing nearby.  “Now!”

But the guards were too late, and Lornia stepped onto the edge of the blood-red carpet just before she could be stopped.  The world jerked again, as an armor-bedecked arm reached for her, and then everything disappeared before her eyes.

_____

Lornia stood in the middle of a large, open field.  The sun shone down brightly from above.  She blinked once, twice, and turned her head to survey her surroundings.

Who am I?  Where am I? she wondered.  What in the world am I doing here?