It was dark. Then slowly the lights grew brighter. Vivid blues, greens, reds, and yellows. The stained glass window shined with such brilliance, that the young girl had to look away - her eyes still attuned to the darkness.
To the world, her name was Melissa, a small quiet girl at St. Nicholas' home in upstate New York. But she was of another world. A world where the dark takes on life. The moonlight filtered through the tall colored glass washes the echoing halls. The gargoyles beat their large heavy wings as they take off from the roof to hunt. And in one courner, Melitha Morianna DeVaski watches a baby spider spin its first web. It had been a few mounths since she discovered this world, and since then the night has been filled with such small wonders. She has wandered and haunted the gothic corridors, giving the few children daring enough to be out of bed tales to tell the others. The children sensed she was different, and teased or ignored her. The teachers worried of this behavior, but at the same time were both thrilled and disturbed by her apparently instincive knowledge. She looked up, hearing the sounds of the other children waking two stories above. Soon the thunder of the boys racing for breakfast came down the stairs. They spoted her looking up at them from her black eyes. They paused for a moment as a fleting recognition of a dreamy form silhouetted by thunder in a half remembered dream played before their eyes again for a moment. Shaking their heads to clear the confusion, they sprang away again towards the cafeteria. She sat alone during breakfast, looking as the others occasionally looked at her with mistrust and distaste. As she arrived at her first class, Sister Carla gave her a notice that she should go to Father's office. On the way, she wondered why Father John whould summon her. Perhaps the girls finally were brave enough to report the spiders in their beds the night before. Contemplating what retailiation she would take, she entered the office. Sitting across the desk from Father John was a tall pale man. He had long black hair tied back in a ponytail and a neatly trimmed beard. His lean body filled a stylish black suit, though she noticed more about him than the Father. It had a medeival cut to it, lined in silver. Long delicate pointed ears could be seen peeking out from his hair. They stoped talking and he turned to look at her as they heard her enter. His pirceing ice blue eyes froze her for a moment He was very handsome, and Melitha momentarliy lost her composure wishing she was much older. The Father gestured for her to sit, and she took special care of her posture as she walked across the room, feeling his eyes on her the whole way. She sat delicatly, dwarfed in the huge plush leather chair.
"Melissa, this is Allen Caramon, and he is interested in possibly adpoting you," Father John paused to look at her otherwise unchanged expression. She then nodded her head politly and looked back to the Father expectantly. "We would like you to go live with him for awhile, to see how you get along. If it works out, you will sty with him."
That morning, as the run rose, Melitha stood on the churches steps. Many of her classmates were gazing out the windows as a black luxery car pulled up in front. Allen got out, and opened the door for her. She graciously nodded and looked back at the other children as they pulled away, wondering if they were happy for her. More likely jealous or glad to see her leave. They rode through the countryside in silence until Allen spoke.
Inside the house a short young girl with bouncey blonde curls ran down the stairs grinning. "Is this her?"
After finally getting Elaine out, Melitha looked around. With the drapes drawn and lights out, it would be perfectly dark. She unpacked quickly, her clothes and belongings only filling one drawer of the massive dresser. Then she opened the door, pleased to discover the doors hinges were well oiled and opened soundlessly. She walked down the hall to the other wing, and crept into the library. It was full of floor to ceiling shelves, many of which looked to be antique and hand written. She slowly pulled a old worn book out, which was apparently a essay on Changeling history. Then she startled as she head someone speak behind her. Melitha sneaked back into her room and sat on the bed. Laying back, she stared at the ceiling, at herself, hating her child form. Wondering what the next year would bring her. |