The World That Faded Away

Once something is lost it is not gone forever.  Fourteen-year-old Cecilia Linden sighed at this remark, which was made by the Sorceress of the Great Forest, Sirenius.  Sirenius was her guardian and therefore took responsibility of her well being.  Cecilia lost her parents at an early age and since she learned to speak inquired on the explanation of their disappearance.  Every time this question surfaced, the Sorceress answered:  once something is lost it is not gone forever.

One day Cecilia grew tired of her ignorance.  She approached Sirenius in a manner that was appropriate.

“Tell me a fable; tell me a story with a happy ending.  No…wait…tell me why my parents are not with me.  If you do not I will be forced to find out on my own.  Then you cannot stop me,” said Cecilia.

Sirenius was taken aback by the aggressive nature of this fourteen-year-old child.  Not once in her fourteen years had the child used such force to obtain information.  Sirenius knew in her heart it was time the truth be revealed to her.

“Close your eyes child.  Think as far back as you can remember.  Think of your parents.  What do you see?” inquired Sirenius.

“I see only mist and shadow veiled over a memory,” whimpered Cecilia.

Sirenius thought meticulously before she made her final decision.  Should the child know the truth?  Surely one day she will have to pick up where her parents left off…  But she cannot do that until she is eighteen…unless...

“Then I shall wipe your memory of this place until you are ready.  I will protect you, but while under my protection you will dream their story as if you were at their side.  You will have these dreams until you witness the downfall of your parents and the after effects.  By then you shall know what is to be done and your life’s quest shall be revealed to you,” she whispered.

Sirenius cast a spell upon Cecilia and the child fell into a deep, numbing sleep.  She would learn about the past and the fate of her parents.  She would eventually learn what purpose her life had and the veil of mist and shadow would be lifted.

Cecilia awoke with a start and said aloud “Sirenius!” but no one was there.  With an out stretched arm in the darkness of her room, she quickly withdrew it back to the safety of her warm covers.  She sat for a moment in silence and listened for any sounds or movement.  Her breath increased rapidly as she waited.

The dream felt so real that she hurriedly flipped on the lights and cautiously searched her small room for disturbances; of course there was nothing and though she seemed calm, she could only concentrate on one thing: the madness of her dreams.

She had the same type of dreams for three nights and each night it continued from the previous night.  She noticed this the night before last and began keeping a dream journal.  She wrote down everything that she saw, felt and heard in the dreams.  If anyone at all found it they may think she was crazy; however, she had the perfect hiding place for it and was convinced that no one would locate the journal.

She would especially dread if her foster “mother” found it; she was looking for an excuse to rid her house of the scum she called Celia.  This would be a perfect advantage to her.  She would tell everyone that Celia was crazy and she would be out of her home.

“Celia!  You are going to be late for school, and I’m not driving you today, you would have to walk.  Get out of bed and come cook me breakfast!” screamed her foster mother, Emily.

She hated being called Celia.  Her given name was Cecilia, but no one called her that since she was younger.  Each foster parent insisted on a new nickname.  She was bestowed with Celia, CeCe, Cecil, and plain old “C.”  Of course none of these nicknames were received well by her, because her mother did not intend for any other name other than Cecilia.

She was cursed with a hidden identity.  Although her name was Cecilia, she was not blessed with a last name.  Therefore she had no means of locating her parents, if they were alive.

With little sense of identity and during the sixth month in this household, Cecilia groaned at the sound of Emily’s voice.  She would never attach the word mother to anything that had to do with Emily.  That sound woke her every morning; Emily screamed at the top of her lungs, too bothered to trot her lazy hind up the stairs to calmly inform her it was time for school.

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