Pollyanna was hauled back to the manor. Kline dragged her up the stairs and into her quarters, throwing her on the bed.
Pollyanna stayed limp where she lay.
Her face was blank and dirty. She had barely said a word for the entire week they had been traveling back to town. She felt as if she were a dead-woman-walking. She had no emotions, no hungers, and no passions left for the world.
She was a body without a soul.
“The only reason why I keep you as my wife—why I keep you
alive
—is because you might be carrying my child. If it turns out to be that monster’s—that mockery of a human being’s—then I will be sure to kill both you and it when it comes out. Do you understand me?” His voice was as sharp and cold as steel.
Pollyanna didn’t reply. She couldn’t even move. She couldn’t even think.
If she allowed herself to think, her thoughts would only lead her to Rory’s bloody demise. If her thoughts led her there, she feared she would be unable to move for the rest of her life.
“Do you understand!” Kline rose his voice, turning her onto her back where previously she had been on her belly. “Answer me!”
Tears parted the dirt on her cheeks; she avoided his fierce gaze. She nodded numbly.
Kline looked upon her in contempt. Silence resumed between them.
“I’ll have the servants draw you a bath.” He broke the silence in a moment.
Kline opened the door, locking it behind him.
Pollyanna did not move for minutes; she hardly even breathed.
Dust began to settle upon her because she was so still.
Eventually, within the dark room, convulsive gasps began to echo.
They started low and soft at the bottom of her throat, but eventually, they became pained howls, filling the entire room.
I have nothing left
. Was her only thought.
__
Pollyanna was locked in her room day and night for what felt like days.
She was given plenty of food and water and a chamber pot to relieve herself in, but was otherwise treated like a caged dog. She couldn’t muster the strength to do anything but mourn Rory and her last, lost chance at freedom.
She found herself lying on the dusty floor on her side. Her long, unkempt hair was sprawled out beside her; deep craters were burrowing beneath her eyes. Her skin was still rough and burnt from the sun.
All she could think of were sad things; the night her father died, the night of her marriage, and Rory’s death…
Doesn’t it sound sweet and resilient?
Rory’s adoration of her name echoed in her mind.
She tried her best not to cry. She feared if she kept crying that her eyes would turn permanently red. But she could not help her own emotions which overpowered everything else; including reason.
Her emotions led to rash actions.
Pollyanna dragged herself to her feet and looked around the room. She rubbed the side of her head—it still hurt from where Kline had punched it a week earlier.
She found a small, glass figurine of an owl sitting on the shelf.
Without hesitation, she smashed it on the floor. It shattered into multiple fragments.
She picked one of the shards up with heavy breaths and fearless determination. She closed her eyes and dragged the shard toward her wrist with a yell.
Her hands stopped before it slammed into her wrist. It was as if an invisible barrier had sprung up between her flesh and the shard.
She stood motionless for a moment, begging her hands to let her end it all, but they wouldn’t.
“Damn it!” Pollyanna tossed the shard and fell to her knees. “Why am I so weak?”
Doesn’t it sound sweet and resilient?
Rory asked her again.
Pollyanna’s head jerked upright.
She stared forward with wide eyes.
It’s not weakness… It’s resilience.
For the first time since she had lost Rory, a smile came to her face. She placed a hand on her belly and realized that she hadn’t lost everything yet.
She was not a dead-woman-walking. There was still a pulse inside of her, even if it was not her own.
Yes. It was a pulse far more precious than her own.
I have a piece of you… I won’t give up yet.
One of the servants unlocked her door after hearing the loud noise. “Pollyanna!” The woman said. “What happened?”
“I accidentally broke something. Would you mind cleaning it up?” Pollyanna lied hastily.
“Of course not.” The woman said with suspicion but did not press her mistress.
Pollyanna frowned deeply.
A shard of glass would have helped greatly…
After the woman left and all the shards were swept up, Pollyanna crawled under her covers.
There must be a way out of here…
There was the window, but it was locked.
__
Later, while she tried to sleep, Kline clicked the door open.
He padded over to the bed.
Pollyanna pretended to be asleep.
Kline shook her shoulder. “Wake up. Wake up, my sweet.”
Pollyanna rolled over and reluctantly gave him her attention. “What is it?”
Kline caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. “I’m just checking up on you.”
Pollyanna pretended she was unhurt by Kline’s previous actions. She smiled and said sweetly, “I’m fine. You don’t need to worry.”
“I just wanted to give you fair warning,” Kline whispered in her ear as he kissed the side of her head. “That I still plan to rearrange the manor for the baby. We’ll be moving your quarters elsewhere as planned.”
Pollyanna tried her best not to look panicked. “Thank you. I’d love the change of scenery.”
Pollyanna could no longer hide her look of disgust when Kline’s kissing turned heavier. She held him back for a moment. “You want your baby to be healthy, remember?”
“The baby will be fine.” He replied shortly.
__
Pollyanna didn’t sleep at all.
She felt like she needed a thorough bath—no, she felt like she needed to be cleansed in fire in order to burn away the filthy situations she had lived through.
But something else was keeping her up. Something far more pressing. She had to move the amulet before Kline moved the furniture around. He, or one of the servants, would inevitably find it.
When everything was silent in the middle of the night but for crickets chirping outside the manor, Pollyanna slid out from under her covers and away from the sleeping Kline.
She was careful to step lightly; she didn’t want the floor to creak.
She lowered herself onto her belly and crawled under the bed.
It was too dark to see where she had placed the amulet. Her fingers blindly grasped at air.
Come on, come on…
She thought to herself in a panic.
Her fingers eventually found the trinket, and she felt herself relaxing when they did. She began backing out from under the bed with the trinket in hand.
Cruel fingers seized her ankle. The floor squealed beneath her as Kline dragged her out from under the bed.
Pollyanna tried to crawl away, but Kline snatched her wrist and wrenched her to her feet. He looked her up and down.
His eyes fixed on the amulet.
His face was awash in realization followed by a look of cold savagery.
Pollyanna knew that he knew what it was.
“It’s a charm to aid in pregnancy!” Pollyanna said with a nervous smile. “I just didn’t want you to—”
Kline threw the amulet to the ground and stepped toward her.
His hands were clenched.
Abruptly, a loud
crash!
Split through the previously silent room.
Outside the window, an eerie, black light flashed.
A key suddenly jiggled in the lock.
“Kline! The town is under attack by the fairies! We must leave now!” A servant called from behind the door.
Kline ignored her.
Nothing mattered to him but this woman who had deceived him into thinking he might finally have a son.
Pollyanna backed up against the door in terror.
The door clicked open as Kline lunged at Pollyanna.
The young girl dashed out the open door as another
crash!
Sounded nearby.
Kline followed her—shoving the servant out of the way.
Pollyanna’s legs pushed her down the hallway as fast as they could, but Kline was propelled by a rage which made him far faster.
When she arrived at the top of the stairs, he was just inches behind her. He reached out with an arm to try and grab her, but his fingers barely missed their mark.
She slowed her pace as she continued down the stairs.
I can’t lose the baby. I can’t lose it!
She heard blood curdling screams sounding outside as she concentrated on getting down the stairs in one piece.
A pair of hands thrusted into her back.
She yelled as she tumbled down the rest of the flight of stairs.
Sharp pain and bruises coursed throughout her body as she rolled onto the ground floor of the manor.
There was no time to worry about the baby. Kline was coming after her fast.
Pollyanna forced herself to her feet despite her body begging her not to.
Her body hurt, but she still pushed herself to run to the end of the hall where she threw the door open.
Kline’s footsteps stalked her as she approached the entryway.
She glanced backwards as her hand grasped the knob of the front door.
Kline was gaining on her.
Pollyanna wrenched the door open and was greeted to utter chaos outside, making her stop in horror for half-a-moment.
Terrified, shrieking humans were running her way. Fairies were pursuing them both on horseback and on foot. Those who tried to fight back were stabbed outright, those who surrendered were taken captive.
In the distance, black smoke plumed into the sky from even blacker fire which clung to the thatched roofs in the town.
Pollyanna glanced toward her mother’s house.
It was on fire. She could have sworn she heard her mother’s screams from within. Pollyanna sniffled, clapping her hands to her ears.
She didn’t know where to go; she didn’t have enough time to think as she heard the door opening behind her. She darted toward town with Kline relentlessly hounding her.
Forgive me… Forgive me, mother.
The landscape wobbled in her vision as she propelled herself forward. She ran past much of the din and fighting unnoticed as the fairies were preoccupied with harassing other humans.
A fairy atop a horse noticed her and pointed a spear at her, trying to stay her as she went. “Halt!”
Pollyanna managed to skirt the knight and ran past more fairies killing human men and taking human women captive.
She threw a glance backward. Kline still tirelessly stalked her—dashing past mounted soldiers as well as ground soldiers.
Tears flew from her eyes as she went.
She eventually arrived at town and plugged her ears at the screaming and clanging of steel overwhelming her senses.
She saw a group of fairies dragging a screaming woman into the darkness on her right.
In front of her, a fairy battled an Astral Elf atop their horses.
To her left, a peasant’s house burned aggressively.
All around her, chaos and black fire reigned.
Pollyanna slowly sunk to her knees in despair as she realized this bigger conflict was swallowing her smaller one.
A pair of rough, wrinkled fingers dug into her shoulders.
“I may very well die here…” Kline whispered in her ear. “But you will die with m—”
A tomahawk spun through the air, burying itself in Kline’s neck
Pollyanna heard his head
thud
to the ground.
She sat, paralyzed for a moment.
She hated Kline, but she had lived with him for many years. She couldn’t help the tears that came to her eyes at his demise.
I can’t give up…
Pollyanna thought to herself as Rory’s smiling face appeared in her mind.
I can’t give up
.
She climbed to her feet and began running again.
She only made it a few paces before a fairy grabbed her arm with an untamed and animalistic grin under his steel helm.
Pollyanna tried to wrench herself away from him, but he stayed all her struggling by pointing his sword at her.
She realized there was no more point to struggling. She stood still.
An arrow zipped through the air and
thudded
into the fairy’s head.
An Astral Elf rode to her side and pulled on the reins to stop his horse. “Get on.”
Pollyanna saw no better recourse, and so she obeyed. She climbed on the back of the horse and the Astral Elf began riding out of town.
Pollyanna glanced back at the town which had gone up in flames with feelings she could barely process.
Daddy
… Was all she could think.
The Astral Elf rode until the pair arrived at the convent which the fairies had oddly left untouched. There, he dismounted and then helped Pollyanna down from the horse.
The Astral Elf looked at the girl with no emotion as she slowly broke down into a sobbing fit.
All the Astral Elf could say was, “No tears, girl. The world is unkind, and you should save your tears for when you truly realize just how unkind it can be.”
He looked at the beautiful, marble convent. “The fairies following the Arrozan, Fjorn, are respectful of religion; they wish humans to be happy slaves. They will not burn your convent or take it captive.”
__
“His words were true, but… He was wrong that I had not realized how unkind it could be. I realized it, and I became weak, cowardly, and paranoid because of it. I retreated into myself as I spent the next thirty-four years in the convent…” Pollyanna said to a stunned Eory. “I missed all of them. Daddy, mother, Rory…”
Pollyanna’s eyes narrowed. “Even that wretched human being, Kline.”