Tale 22- The Beloved Toy

 The snowy town centre was bustling with people as the Traveler walked through, almost pushing amid the large crowd forming around the various performers, as was common for towns at nightfall. But which one to ask for a story? She debated for a moment, eventually pausing to watch one of them as her gaze landed on a fantastic fire-eater, the best the world had ever seen. Gazing in awe at the act, she couldn’t help but join the crowd as they clapped furiously for him, her own tiny sounds nothing amid the roar of applause. Suddenly, something hit her heel, so she turned, wondering if it was a stray snowball from the nearby children playing. But as soon as she looked down, she began to feel an awful wave of nausea. Scanning the crowd, she bent down, picking up the shiny red apple. Examining it, she noticed a single bite taken out of it, and felt her moment of happiness fade into fear, slightly shaking. Turning the fruit round in her fingers, she searched for clues as to where on earth he could be. It had come from behind her, but there weren’t enough marks in the snow to show the direction it had rolled from, and too many footprints covered its track. Standing up, she lowered her hood as the crowd moved away from the fire-eater, and moved with them, trying to blend in. But, just as she was about to follow the crowd out of the square, someone grabbed her wrist. Squirming to free herself, their grip hardened until it hurt, and they twisted her arm down behind her until she had to turn, in agony. Feeling as if her wrist would break, the Traveler looked up, before feeling a fresh wave of terror overcome her. Marcielle had found her.

“Oh, hello there my dear. Do you want to stay a while? I promise I’m very hospitable.” he giggled, before clenching his fist around her even harder, the Traveler visibly wincing. She was weak, and nothing compared to the strength of this man. He had a long, pink braid stretching the entirety of his torso, flicking it behind him as he stared down at her, and armour covered his body, made from the strongest metal around. His bright pink, lustful eyes became much colder as he looked down at her, the girl refusing to even meet his gaze as she shook in his grip. Throwing her down into the snow, the Traveler rushed to make sure her precious book and sword were safe, her only possessions in this world. Shivering from both the cold and her fear, she allowed herself to look up at the man slightly, as he met her terrified eyes. “This feels familiar, no?” he spoke, before pulling out a small dagger, the Traveler instantly moving back and struggling to stand, her wrist aching and her mind screaming with the terrible memories of that night. Adjusting her stance, she shakily pulled out the silver sword, the man simply rolling his eyes and touching the tip with his finger, forcing her to lower it and nearly causing her to fall again with his strength. “Be very careful, or you might see a nastier version of me.” he warned, the Traveler practically gasping for air due to how afraid she was. He tried to approach her, but she stepped back, watching as a crowd formed around them, whispering amongst themselves. Glaring at her, Marcielle addressed them all. “Let it be known that the girl in front of you today is an enemy, a sorceress with one simple goal- to curse any singular person who shares a story with her. Do not trust her or speak to her.” He announced, before approaching the girl, who had been distracted by the crowd and was failing to reason with them. Shocked that he had gotten so close, she felt herself freeze in place as he spoke. “Do you really think I’ll let you complete this goal? No. I can wait forever…” he whispered, before tracing a hand down her cheek, fingers eventually landing on a deep scar, the man caressing it over and over with a twisted sense of ownership. “You will be mine, eventually.” he spoke, placing a hand on her chin as he spoke into her ear, his head almost underneath her hood. Fearful tears began forming in her eyes. Why couldn’t she move?! She had to run, to escape, flee, but her body was stuck still, stone cold. Meeting her eyes, he retreated, moving through the crowd as they dispersed, intending on avoiding her, and she watched as he walked away into the nearby woods, Marcielle giving her one last cunning smirk before fading away into the shadows.

Heart pounding, the Traveler was suddenly back in control, and fled faster than she had ever run before, hiding in an alleyway and burying her head in her arms, breathing loudly and shakily as she tried to control herself. Curling her hand into a fist, she tried to wipe away that sensation of his hand on her face, almost unable to breathe and her mind screaming with memories she didn’t want to dwell on, but now she had no choice. From across the alley, someone coughed, and, deathly afraid, she curled up in the shadows as footsteps approached her. Someone lit a match, and the fire-eater from earlier approached her, curious as to why she was so distressed. Gently, he offered her one of his flame-resistant blankets, the two sitting down in the cold snow and chatting. Clearly, he had not been present previously, and decided to tell her a story to try and cheer her up, telling her the tale of ‘the Beloved Toy’

‘A while ago, in a child’s bedroom, there was a large group of toys, each one different and distinct. Amid them all was a quiet ragdoll, as whilst all the other toys had special abilities and tricks, she was nothing much, only able to be hugged and played with regularly. She couldn’t throw things, or transform, or anything of the sort, so she often wondered what her purpose was and endured a lot of teasing from the other toys, who saw her as lesser. One night, it became so unbearable that she decided to hide from everyone, choosing to go to the darkest corner of the room where she wouldn’t be found amid the dust and decay. But, that same night, the child was told some terrible news about her father’s death, and ran away to her room in tears. She needed something to hug, deeply, so she began searching the entire room for the ragdoll, moving past the more interesting toys and eventually finding the doll hidden in the dark corner, dusting her off and hugging her tightly. It was then that the doll realized the truth- no matter how much or little you can do, if you can bring joy to others in some way, then that’s more than enough.’

Finishing the tale, the man helped the Traveler up, and gently whispered some directions out of the town that avoided both the square and the forest. Extremely grateful, the Traveler gave him back his blanket, and he swallowed the match with a smile, waving her off as she fled, determined now to finish her task and free herself from the shackles that bound her, forever.