The Crystal Bell, part I

The Crystal Bell

As children, we all find different ways of coping with reality. More often than not, we indulge in grand games of pretend to escape whatever monotony or pain we experience in real life. More often than not, we dream up beautiful worlds and magnificent adventures. And more often than not, we wish, above all else, to share these adventures with someone. Some of us are lucky enough to have friends who will join in the game. Others of us... make do. We finish the grand picture of our false reality by imagining companions as well.

Etain’s was a special case in particular. From the very beginning, she was different-- there was something hiding beneath that freckled, wide-eyed, brooding exterior that no one could have expected: a heart full of dark secrets. Every once in a while, when no amount of pretending could help her through reality, one of these secrets would escape. Strange things happened that could not be explained. objects, animals, memories appeared and disappeared. Etain soon earned the reputation of being a witch, which in all reality was not a far cry from the truth, but of all her feats, Tanel was by far the greatest.

When Etain was a little girl, she (like so many children devoid of real playmates) had an imaginary friend: a little boy named Tanel. Her belief in the fair-haired youth of one eye green, one eye brown reached most unusual boundaries. Her father, upon hearing music emanating from her room one night, found her with a psaltry in her lap, claiming Tanel was teaching her to play. As far as he was concerned, these claims were easier to handle than finding a Komodo dragon in the living room after one of her tantrums, so he did not question her. Others, however, were not so understanding. “Fool!” they called her. “Little witch!” After a few years of such ridicule, Etain simply stopped talking about Tanel, keeping to her books and limiting the boundaries of her world to the walls of her father’s house instead. But no amount of books or limits or aversion of outside folk could prevent the inevitable. At the tender age of seventeen, Etain lost her father to illness. The poor girl was absolutely devastated, and chaos ensued. Creatures from cats to capuchins made chase in the house. Statues, carpets, trees, kettles, anything you can imagine-- strewn on every floor and leaning on every wall. And when our young lass had finally cried herself to sleep, the greatest secret of all, hidden deep at the bottom of her broken heart, rose forth.

The next day, a stranger appeared in the village. He certainly cut a strange figure, all tall and thin and loose blond hair and merry eyes of two different colors. And his stride-- he wandered through the whole village with a walk completely confident and unabashed, asking where, oh where dear Etain could be?

Our orphaned lass was still in bed. Not even the sun’s gentle rays could coax her away from that spot. It was the twilight hour. Etain was dreaming, dreaming of the father who had so suddenly left her, when she was roused by the sound of singing:

“Hast tha’ forgot thy true luv’s eyes?
Nay, the day I do, I’ll die
Hast tha’ forgot they true luv’s hair?
Nay, for his is soft and fair.

My true luv gave me a ring of stone,
He promised to cherish me alone...”

Etain only knew one person who remembered that doleful tune from her childhood. She always said it was about him. She leapt out of her bed and ran to her window. Without hesitation, she threw it open and looked out to find the source of the music. Her reddened eyes scanned the horizon, and then lower until-- there he was.

“Tanel!” She cried. “You’re finally here!”

“Yes, my pet. I only just arrived.”

Etain could not run fast enough out of her room, down the stairs, and straight into Tanel’s arms.

“Oh, my dear old friend!” She said, “How I missed you! It’s been too long!”

“Well, dear, I’m here now, and that’s all that matters.”

And it was.