The Last Dance

I wrote this short fantasy story as a submission entry for a fiction anthology. Full disclosure: it didn’t get selected. It happens.

I have originally written the story in Polish, but have since translated and improved it a little. It was inspired by a song from a game soundtrack (I haven’t played the game yet, I just like the energy), so I added it here for a more complete experience :)

One-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three…

The sun was setting over the clearing as Priscilla danced. If anyone watched her, they would hear no music and no sound, save birdsong coming from somewhere in the woods. And yet, the woman danced as if an entire court orchestra played just for her.

With her bare feet, Priscilla trode upon the damp earth. She kept her arms wide open, as if inviting the entire world to her celebration. But she felt no joy.

For several weeks now, as the day would draw to a close, she would be taken over by a powerful melody in triple metre. Some unknown force made her go outside and dance to inaudible music, as if paying tribute to an unknown goddess.

One-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three…

Come rain or shine, against her own will, she welcomed the waking night with her lone dancing. And when the ritual was over, the woman returned to her hut deep in the woods. Tonight, she enjoyed her walk, illuminated by stars and waxing moon. When she came home, she lit a fire, for it was a chilly night. Her black cat, Solomon, immediately trotted over to the hearth and laid down in front of it, enjoying the warmth.

Priscilla was a sorceress. She spent her days dealing with lifting curses, taking away pain, or assisting with birth. This time, however, it was not a matter of life but of death. The woman had lived long enough to know that larger forces were at work.

Sometimes, when a person returns to the Silence without fulfilling their promise, their debt is transferred to the nearest person with a magical gift. That is why so many are born bearing the burden of someone else's pain. That is why the first moments of life are often marked with tears.

Most lose the gift of magic with age. Others, like Priscilla, carry it all their lives. Now she needed to find out who may need her assistance and why.

Talking to the dead was not her specialty. She found no answers in her books nor in the grimoire of her long-gone mentress. For hours she wandered the plains of the Silence in search for wisdom. But she could never stay there long enough to find out the truth. The glow of the setting sun would always pull her out of her trance and force her to go out into the clearing.

But finally, there was hope for an answer.

That night, the sorceress heard soft tapping on the shutters. It was Rees, the great raven, bringing news from Rhiannon, Priscilla's friend. Rhiannon was a sorceress on queen’s court.

The ruler, Queen Lisseya, was a proud woman, but also, like any ruler, full of distrust. She needed not just an advisor on the matters of power, but also someone who would protect her when the knights’ swords failed. Rhiannon was her shield against the world.

- Hello, friend. What news are you bringing? - Priscilla spoke to the raven.

Solomon looked at the visitor distrustfully and curled up into a tighter ball. The bird flew onto the table and began to eat from the saucer which the woman had prepared for it. As the raven ate, Priscilla delicately unwrapped the ribbon holding a message and a vial containing cryptic contents from its leg, then began to read.

Dear Scill, I read the news of your ailment with trepidation. What you describe reminded me of the unfortunate events in Anteii five summers ago. I would love to visit you and help you find the answer but unfortunately, since the death of the queen, the court is falling apart and needs a strong hand. Lisseyia's descendant is only a few years old, and the husband-king regent spends too much time in the Northern Empire to deal with the kingdom. However, I have prepared a potion for you to do the Summoning ritual. I hope that it will guide you toward the answers you seek. Forgive me for not being able to do more. May the goddes watch over you. Your Rhi

Well, Rhiannon was never a woman of many words. Priscilla looked with curiosity at the potion her friend had sent her. Rees squawked loudly as he looked at her.

"Don't be so judgemental," the sorceress said to the raven, "unless you have a better idea." The bird glared at Priscilla and hid under the roof of the hut. Solomon yawned and stretched by the fire. Priscilla suddenly realized how much the day has exhausted her. "You're right, there’s always tomorrow." she said, then she put out the fire and went to sleep.

The next day Priscilla got up with the sun. Solomon trotted around her as she prepared her breakfast. Her friend's words about the queen still troubled her mind. Priscilla was there at her death. Lisseya was a strict but just ruler, loved by her subjects. That is why, when the plague struck her, all the sorceresses of the South gathered to help her. Unfortunately, Death was unyelding and Lisseya fell asleep for one last time at sunrise, never to awaken. That day, Priscilla heard the melody for the first time. Could it be that her compulsive dance had something to do with the queen? After all, even rulers had their troubles and secrets. Sitting on the throne does not prevent anyone from breaking an oath.

To clear her thoughts, the sorceress went out to the garden and started collecting herbs. Solomon scuttled after her like a little pup and laid down next to her to bask in the sun. Soon, the inhabitants of a nearby village began to come to the woman's hut. As usual, Priscilla dealt with their various problems and ills. Though she lived far away from people, she could not complain about the lack of company. Although sometimes she would love to.

The day has passed in the blink of an eye. Finally, the time has come for the woman to take care of her own matters. Even before she felt the triple beat of music in her head, Priscilla took her amulets and the potion and went to the clearing. She drew a wide circle there and surrounded the space with protective spells. The clearing was a place where the border between the world of the living and the Silence was thin. It was a good place for a Summoning.

When the witch was ready, she sat down in the center of the circle and drank Rhiannon’s potion. She spoke a chant in Old Speech. A few moments later, the air turned cool and a mist fell onto the clearing.

Priscilla was no longer alone. Another woman stood beside her. She wore hunting clothes and riding boots. Her face was smooth, though not young, with dark green eyes. Her hair was a dark purple color, peeking out from behind the pointed tips of her ears. There was an uneven scar on the woman's neck.

- You summoned me.

Priscilla watched her motionlessly. Even though she loved being a sorceress, she really didn't like talking to the dead.

- Can you help me?

Priscilla awoke from her amazement.

- Are you the reason why I hear the music?

The elven nodded.

- It plays for Lisseya and me. She called me Mirtha.

- You knew the queen. - the witch started to piece the facts together.

- I was her falconer. And then... something more.

Priscilla didn’t respond. Elves were despised in the South. They lived in harmony with nature, and many of them had the gift of magic. People believed that elves had great power, and that’s why they feared them. They tried to contain the suspected danger by denying elves basic rights and treating them as inferior. Some elves, like Mirtha, found their way to slightly higher spheres. But their lives were not all perfect there either.

- Queens have responsibilities. - the elven continued. - Lissaya was to marry to form an alliance with the Northern Empire. You cannot protect the kingdom by marrying an elven.

- I'm sorry. - Priscilla said. - Was there nothing to be done?

- I could bear staying in the shadows, - Mirtha continued - but there was one wish we both had. We both loved to dance, yet were never permitted to. I could only watch her float across the dance floor with other monarchs or nobles at ceremonies. But for us, no orchestra was ever going to play. So, before her engagement, under the moonlight, we made a soul oath that one day we would dance together.

It was a beautiful dream. A queen and an elven, dancing to the music of an orchestra. Love over duty.

- The queen's knights found us on our way back to the castle. There was only one thing they could do. For the sake of the crown. - Mirtha's voice was bitter.

Priscilla felt shame for her kind. And then for herself. Living in the depths of a forest, she did not feel connected to this world. But the world was connected to the witch, and used emphatic means to convey it to her.

- A soul oath cannot be broken. - the sorceress said softly. - That is why you cannot find peace.

The elven nodded.

- Lissaya didn't have the gift of magic.

- So you came to see me. - the sorceress finished. Lisseya's oath was now up to her to keep. She was not going to shirk the duty. - I cannot make amends for you. But I will help you both keep your oaths.

Priscilla offered her hand to the elven, and she took it.

One-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three…

The women started dancing to the triple metre only they could hear. The sun's rays reflected off the mist, marking the air with colored diamonds. The sorceress and the elven danced together in the clearing, as if paying tribute to the goddess of solitude. The moments passed, but Priscilla didn't feel tired, not this time.

Eventually, the sun began to disappear behind the horizon, and with it the sounds of the music began to fade away. The last pirouette, the last bow, and the women faced each other, still holding hands.

- You helped me pay off my debt. Thank you. - said Mirtha.

Priscilla stared into the elven's deep, dark eyes.

- It is the world that owes you, Mirtha.

The elven smiled sadly and turned towards the mist-covered woods. The sorceress turned for a moment to pick up the fern flower, which suddenly appeared where Mirtha had stood a moment ago. When she looked up, she was alone.

The air was clear and crisp. An owl hooted in the distance. Around there was silence, and a gentle breeze.

It was the last night Priscilla had spent in the woods. In the morning, she packed her possesions. With Solomon by her side, and Rees as a guide, she set off on to the nearby town. She found her new home in the poorest district, among the elves. It was time to make amends.