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Internet Message Format | 1994-10-05 | 21KB

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From: Joe Helfrich <[e-mail]>
Newsgroups: rec.games.frp.archives
Subject: STORY: Me, a Princess???
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Date: 4 Oct 1994 17:49:24 -0400
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OK, while you folks have an advantage over the people in my Creative Writing
class, I'm going to bounce this to all of you as well.  This started as an
identity-questioning type story, but about half way through, I decided I
liked the charachters to much.  But anyway, suspend your disbelief, forget
that you know anything about Domina and Morgan Spellweaver for a few minutes,
and let me know what you think.  Please be sure to answer the question at the
end of the story, again, forgeting what you already know about my writing...

Reality Warp
or
Me? A Princess??


"My Princess! You are in danger!"  "Go away, damn you," she whispered.
    "But my Lady!  The forces of Zaldane come for you!"  "
    Guard!  Throw this man out!"
    The Rent-a-cop walked over to the center teller's window of the
Generic First National Bank.  "Is there a problem, Miss Williams?"
    Anna Williams took a deep breath, brushing a lock of her platinum-
blond hair back behind her ear.  "Yes.  This loony has been watching everyone
who comes up to the counter. I think he may be trying to rob someone."  She
really didn't want to get into the "Princess" business.  She just wanted to
get rid of the raggedly dressed man who hadn't left her alone since she left
her apartment this morning.
    "OK, bud," the guard said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a
five dollar bill, "why don't you go buy yourself a bottle and get out of my
hair.  Sound like a good deal?"
The man, his beard and hair as ragged as his clothes, slapped the guards hand
away.  The motion was enough to stir up some rather strong and unpleasant
aromas from his clothing.  "I do not want your charity, Sir," he said, his
voice carrying a not-quite-British accent, "nor do I wish to drown myself in
ale.  I seek only to remain true to my duty."
    "Right," said the guard, replacing the bill in his pocket.  "If you d
on't leave the bank immediately, I'm gonna' call the guys in the white coats
and have them lock you up for a couple days.  Now I don't think you want that,
and I know I don't want to deal with the paperwork.  So why don't you do us
both a favor and get out of here, OK?"

    Trelafane glared at the strange man.  He didn't know who these
white-coated men were, but judging by the number of times people had
threatened to call them, he assumed they must be some sort of elite guard.
He considered attacking the mercenary and escaping with Princess Annalin, and
reached for his sword...but his hand grasped only empty air.
    "Damn," he breathed.  Two weeks in this strange land, and he still
wasn't used to not having a sword at his side.
    The motion had caused the guard to tense and reach for his own weapon,
though.  Trelafane didn't know why, as the thing looked completely useless.
It couldn't possibly be a knife, and it was much too short to be a useful
club.  Still, without his sword, and with his dagger hidden under several
layers of cloth, he couldn't be sure he would be able to dispatch the
mercenary before reinforcements arrived.  And it would not do to be captured
and separated from the Princess.
    "Very well," he said, and walked out of the bank.

    Anna sat in the small lunchroom/lounge in the back of the bank,
staring into her tea and stirring it listlessly.  She couldn't pin it down,
but the stuff just tasted odd.  Familiar, but odd.  The clock on the wall
ticked quietly, and she glanced at it periodically to see how much time was
left before she returned to work, then resumed stirring her tea.
The lounge door crashed open, and Meg Rodriguez, another bank teller, bounced
into the room, throwing her rain-soaked jacket onto the coat rack on the far
wall.  "Hey girl," she said, "heard you had some excitement today."  It wasn't
a question.  Meg never asked questions about what happened.  But she still
knew everything that went on at the bank.
    "Just some noble soul looking for his princess," Anna said, smiling.
"Somehow, though, he decided I was her."
    "Heck of a way to start your second week on the job.  But wait a
minute.  How do you know you ain't his Princess, Anna Lynn Williams?" Meg
asked, throwing a frozen dinner into the microwave.  "I mean, you got the
looks for it, you talk like one, and you've got the requisite mystery past for
long lost royalty," Meg said, grinning.
    "Just because I don't talk about my past, Meg, doesnUt mean I don't
have one."
    "Then why don't you talk about it?"
    "Because it was as boring as Hell!  Vermont isn't exactly the center
of the Universe, you know."
    "Well, that's true."  Meg frowned as her argument stalled, then
brightened as a new thread occurred to her.  "But you do talk like a princess.
I mean, what's with that 'noble soul' business?  Some crazy attaches himself
to and you call him a 'noble soul'?"
    "So I speak proper EnglishQunlike some people I know," Anna jibed,
grinning as Meg's eyes rolled, "and have an appreciation for classical
literature.  And I call him a noble soul because he is one.  He's trying to
do what he thinks is right.  It's just that he's working off of his own little
insanity, instead of reality.  Which is fine, as long as he leaves me out of
it."
    The microwave beeped, and Meg opened the door and picked up the tray.
"Whatever you say, Princess.  Ow!  Hot!"  She half dropped, half tossed the
dinner onto the table, and straddled a chair.  "So, what do you think of that
new hunk of an accountant--what's his name, Bobby--down in loans?"

    Trelafane sat huddled in the alley across from the bank, taking
shelter from the rain in the lee of another building.  The clock read almost
the same time as it had yesterday when Annalin left for home.  Thanks be to
the magic that lets me understand the language of this land,  he thought, not
for the first time.  He hoped the Princess would come out soon, so that he w
ould have something to do to take his mind off of his miserable condition.
Knights of the blood would do anything to protect the royal family, but there
was no reason to like some of the extremes he was forced to.
    The world flashed white, and a deep rumble filled the air.  Ozone
stung his nose, and the whole atmosphere grew oppressive as the storm grew in
strength.
    Then again, perhaps it was something else.
    Trelafane reached under his tunic and released the straps that held
his dagger in place.  Slowly, he slipped the weapon into his boot.

    Anna flipped the hood of her jacket up and stepped out into the rain,
turning down the street towards her apartment.  She hadn't bought an umbrella
yet, because she was hoping that hers would show up in the stuff she was still
unpacking.  It had been tough moving here from Vermont, leaving everything she
knew behind, but she knew she had to do it.  At least her Aunt Emma had been
able to get her an apartment and a job before she moved out here.  She would
have hated to have to find work or an apartment alone.
    The wind gusted, and blew her hood off.  She rolled her head back,
running her fingers through her hair, and reveling in the feel of the rain and
wind against her skin--
    --__to her left, a dark shape stepped out of the shadows, hand at
waist, moving outward with the sound of steel against leather__--
    Anna snapped her head around, but there was nothing there.  She
squinted, trying to figure out what it was she had seen in the shadows that
looked like--
    --__to the right, not one but two forms, dressed in black, stilettos
glistening with poison__--
    Again she snapped her head, and was confronted with empty air.  _That
fool's got me seeing things_ she thought.  _I need to get home and lay down--_
    A man dressed in rags and tatters rushed past her, knife in one hand,
a garbage can lid in the other.

    Trelafane stepped out of the alleyway, and began following Annalin
down the street.  The magical aura that surrounded her was intact, and holding
steady.  He had feared that it would collapse in this magic-dead land, but
apparently that would not be a problem.  Besides, soon they should be on their
way back to Delan's Gate, and home beyond.  Assuming, of course, that the
drugs Morgan had told him to use worked, and restored her proper memory from
the magic-twisted jumble inside her head.
It was then that the aura around her began to waver.  First on the left, then
the right, it bent, as forces pushed against it.
    Even as Trelafane widened his senses to find what was causing the
assault, he was delighted to see that Annalin had noticed the attempt to
breach the ward.  Her skills and abilities had not been stripped by the magic
that forced her into this land.
    Outside her aura, other ripples developed. It was difficult for anyone
of the blood to penetrate a magic spells that they had not seen the casting
of, and these were specially designed to resist his perception.  But they fell
all the same.
    __Argavian Assassins!__
    Pausing only to slip his dagger from his boot, Trelafane ran toward
the Princess, snatching a child's discarded shield from a refuse pile as he
ran past.

    Anna stood stock still, shocked, as the man who said she was a
princess stopped dead in front of her, pretending to block a weapon thrust
with the can lid, while stabbing outward with the dagger.  He was quite
convincing, managing to flex the lid so that the metal popped slightly, as if
it was actually blocking a weapon, and slowing his dagger thrust abruptly
where a body would have been.  He wrenched the dagger back from the open air
and shoved off with the makeshift shield, holding the dagger tightly, and
making an occasional swipe outward with it.  One such swipe and recovery sent
red droplets flying back toward her, that splattered on her blouse and face.
    __Blood???__
    Suddenly, the world around her exploded into a dazzling array of
lights and colors, and her head seemed to explode with it. She didn't think
anything could feel worse than the pounding in her skull, until a line of fire
traced it's way down her shoulder and forearm.

    Trelafane sensed the collapse of Annalin's shields and cursed himself
for being so sluggish.  The two assassins with the poisoned blades had
obviously been the greater threat, but he had hoped to dispatch them before
the third could breach the Princess' wards.  He feinted with the dagger, and
reversed his swing as the assassin stepped in to him.  Blood plumed from the m
an's throat, but before he hit the ground, Trelafane was turning to the final
assassin.
    "NO!" he cried, as the Argavian's sword descended toward the Princess. The blade, though, was shunted aside at the last second by some vestige of
Annalin's shielding, making a nasty, but shallow, cut on her left shoulder and
forearm.
    Trelafane dived forward, dropping dagger and shield as he closed with
the swordsman.  The shield would be no help since he had to get inside the
sword's arc, and the dagger was too easily lost to a man with the skills
taught by the Argivians.  He managed to duck under the sword, and came up
inside the man's reach.  But even as his hands locked around the assassin's
neck, his opponent was crushing him in a bear hug.
    It was a matter of time, now, and position.  Trelafane kept one hand
on the assassin's neck and used the other to search for the jugular vein.
When he found it, it took only a moment of pressure to cause the other man's
grip to slacken.  Then there was a sickening crack, and the combat was over.
    Trelafane dropped immediately to Annalin's side, who lay on the ground
sobbing, her hand pressed to the wound on her shoulder.  "What...what is going
on?!?"
    "They were assassins, my Lady, sent by the wizard Zaldane.  Do you not
remember?"
    "ZaldaneI?  I don't understand...why, why would someone..."
    "Look! Look, my Lady!  Do you not see that I speak the truth!  Look at
the corpse!"
    The assassin's corpse was fading from sight, the links that had held
it to this world disintegrating as life left the body.  Surely, the Princess
could not argue with that!
    "It's fading away...like a dream...this is all a dream..."
    Trelafane groaned.  This was not going well at all.  How could she be
denying the very magic she had been brought up to wield?  "Look at your arm,
the wound is almost gone!  Explain that, Princess!"
    "My arm?"  Dazed, Annalin turned to look at her shoulder.  The blood
flow had stopped, and the wound was closing as she stared at it. Indeed, now
that she had turned her attention to it, it was healing faster, becoming a
scab, then a slight red line which faded away completely.
    "That...that's not possible," she said, blinking as the now fierce
rain ran into her eyes.
    "Nothing is impossible, my Lady.  Not for a sorceress such as
yourself."
    Annalin looked at him, her impossibly blue eyes filled with fear and
confusion, and fainted.

    Anna awoke, glancing around her bedroom.  Shaking her head, she sat up
in bed, marveling at the strange dream she had had.
    The bedroom door opened, and the crazy man walked in, carrying a tray
with a loaf of bread and a large piece of cheese.
    "AHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!"
    The man put the tray down on the table beside her bed and grabbed her
arms, holding her arms in place and trying to talk to her.
    "NO!  NO!  Let me go!!!"
    Much to her surprise, he did.
    She stared at him, confused now more than frightened.  She didn't know
why.  Rationally, she knew she should be screaming her head off, but something
made her trust this man.
    "What is going on?  Why did you let me go?"
    "You ordered me to.  I am your sworn knight, Princess Annalin.  I have
no choice but to obey you, except when to do so would endanger your life."
    "This is too weird," she said.  "Who are you?  Where did you come
from?"
    "I am Trelafane, of the House of Falidor, and sworn protector to your
Highness, the Liege of Jayemday.
    "You have the wrong person.  I am not that lady."
    "You are.  Your memories have been corrupted by the magic that sent
you here."
    "No magic sent me here.  My Aunt Emma sent me here."
    "Indeed she did," he said, and Anna breathed a sigh of relief at his
words.
    "Your aunt, the Countess Emmaza, triggered the spell that sent you
through Delan's gate and away from the assault of Zaldane's forces."
    "Ohh!  This is getting me nowhere.  I have to talk to my Aunt," Anna
said, reaching for the phone.
    "You will not be able to reach her," Trelafane said simply.
    Anna's hand stopped half way to the phone.  "That's right, she doesn't have a phone.  But how did you know that!  And how did I forget..."
    "I did not know.  I meant only that your Aunt did not survive
Zaldane's attack."
    For the second time in two days, Anna's world collapsed around her.
"Aunt Emma's dead...no...no!"
    "I am sorry my Lady, but I did not think it would do you any good to
spare you the information."  Anna thought that he sounded genuinely sorry.
    "How could it have happened...I mean, when..."
    "It was just over two weeks ago.  She died as she sent you to this
land."
    That little bit of nonsense gave Anna an anchor.  "Why am I listening
to you," she cried.  "You're crazier than old man Zachariah!"  Anna rolled out
of bed, grabbing her robe from a chair, and pulling it on over her nightgown.
She tried not to think about how she got into that.
    "The first thing I need is breakfast."
    "I have prepared breakfast," he said, gesturing to the bread and
cheese.
    "A real breakfast.  Eggs and toast and bacon.  Some stability to start
the day, something normal.  And then you and I, Mr. Trelafane--"
    "Just Trelafane, or Lord Trelafane."
    "--are going to have a serious talk!"

    They talked while she cooked breakfast, and through it, and Trelafane
told her of a land where magic was real, and where she and her family were
some of its strongest practitioners and most devout defenders.  Of a land
where dragons filled the sky, and trolls stalked the Earth, and demons came at
the beck and call of men and women.
    In her mind, Anna didn't believe a word of it.
    But in her heart...she wasn't sure.  She wasn't sure of anything.
    "I've got to go to Vermont.  I've got to see Aunt Emma, and get this
straightened out."
    Trelafane said nothing.
    "I suppose you're coming along?"
    "Of course."
    "What if I ordered you to stay?"
    "I am sworn to obey your orders except where they effect your
immediate saftey.  For you to travel alone, with Zaldane's forces searching
for you, and yo denying your magical abilites, would be certain death.  I
cannot allow that."
    "Why am I not surprised?" she asked, stalking out of the room.

    Trelafane watched the door close behind her.  He did not argue with
Annalin's plan, because it was the best he could hope for, considering her
mental condition.  Confronting the unreality of her life in this plane would
only help her proper memory to return.  Besides, if he remembered correctly,
this Ver-mont country was back towards Delan's Gate.
Of course, there was always the hope that her memory would return fully, and
that they could end this folly and return home before Zaldane overran Jayemday.
And that was something he could help along.
    He walked over to her half-empty glass, and pulled a small packet from
his pouch.  There were two others like it inside, along with the remnants of
another two.  Carefully, he tore the packet open and began to empty it's
contents into the glass of fruit juice.
    At that moment, the door to the rest of the apartment swung open, and
Annalin walked in.

    "What are you doing!" Anna screamed.
    Trelafane made a face, and crumpled the packet up in his hand.  "It
is...a medicine."
    "You've been drugging me?"
    "It is a physic, to help restore your memory.  Nothing more."
    "Nothing more!  No wonder I've been so confused!  How long as this
been going on?"  She snatched the glass up and sniffed at it.  "My tea..." she
said, smelling the same peculiar oder.
    "And the milk you used yesterday.  I entered you apartments the day
before, and added the medicine to both.  It is only a general cure.  Morgan
was not sure how you had been affected, and could not make a more specific
cure, either magical or medical."
    Anna threw the glass at Trelafane, but he ducked and the glass
shattered against the wall behind him.  "Is there any more of this?"
    "Two more packets."
    "Give them to me."
    Trelafane reached into his pouch and pulled out two full packets and
three empty ones, and dropped them into Anna's hand.  She glanced at the
emblem blazoned on the front--
    --__a unicorn rampant sable, armed and crined argent__--
    "Who did you say made this?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
    "Your childhood friend, Morgan Half-Elven, my lady."
    --__memories warring within her in one breath, a tall, gangly lad, in
another a smaller, but no less gangly, lad, but this one more confident, more
centered, with points to his ears, both called Elf, both beating the devil out
of anyone but her who dared use it (or taking a beating while trying) and both
friends dear and true__--
    She walked over to the sink, and stated the faucet.  "My Lady, no!"
her self appointed protector said.  "I beg you save these.  Keep them yourself,
take them when you wish, but they may be the only way to recover your memory!"
    She paused, considering.  Morgan, whoever he was, whichever one he was,
would never hurt her, would never act against her--
    But which one was real?  Was either?
    She dropped the packets into the water.

They set out two hours later, after having bought Trelafane some passable
clothes.  She couldn't be sure if he was telling her the truth, was insane, or
was sane but lying to her for some unknown reason.  But she knew that somehow
 he'd find a way to follow her, and she would rather have him where she could
see him than constantly be looking over her shoulder.
    And she knew she would not find the answers where she was.

Note: Immediatly after you read this, please write down which veiwpoint is the
"real" one.  i.e., is Trelafane telling the truth, or is he decieveing
Anna(lin) for some reason?  If you read this more than once and change your
mind, please note that also, but it is your first impression that is the most
important.  Thanks!