((Edit!): I copied this from Microsoft Word. I tried when I first copied it to correct any problems from the transfer but I could have missed some. If I did, PLEASE tell me, preferrably in PM so I can fix it. Thank you for your patience.)
Victoria and the Stone Arch
By Jerad A. C. Peckham
Across the dimensions of time and space, in a time far ago in a place where magic is lying in secret, where it is not often found, but it sometimes surfaces. This was one of those times. The setting was a small town of farmers and traveling merchants. One of the farmer’s daughters was going off to say farewell to her friend who was going to take care of his father’s business on the road while his father is ill. She ran through the arch of stone in the middle of the fence. The arch of stone was built over a well and now has a small bowl under a face which holds water for thirsty travelers or to wash your face with. She paused and thought if she should but then decided she was late enough already and continued. She continued over the rocky road, past the fields of other farmers, into the town center. Here, there were mainly stone buildings and wooden carts with a stone well in the middle. She bid farewell to him, a fair journey, safe return, and promised him a joyous return. She felt happy and sad at the same time. “I will return safely before long, my good friend. Until then, find someone else to talk to and be cautious. You must be careful of who you talk to. Farewell, dear Victoria.” He started the cart and she stood waving until he was out of sight. Victoria turned, confused at his words of caution. But she walked back home.
But when she reached the stone arch, she found a shocking sight. Her father was dead, head struck repeatedly by rocks, face down in the small bowl of water. She screamed and held her father’s motionless body and cried. She cried for ten minutes before she heard the voice. She didn’t know how long it had been calling to her or who it was from. But it was calling her name. “Victoria. Would you like to know who killed your father? Listen to me. Do you want to know?” She looked around for who was speaking.
“Who are you? Why are you hiding?”
“I’m not. Stand.” So she stood. “Now turn around.”
“But there is nothing but stone behind me. You might hurt me if I turn my back on you. You probably killed my father.”
“Dear, I am trying to help you. Now, turn around.”
She slowly accepted that this was what she must do, so she turned and saw nothing but the stone arch. “Now we can be face to face.” She jumped back and tripped, falling next to her father’s bloody corpse. “Do not be afraid.”
“How can you talk? You are stone?”
“I am magic. Magic is all over. But it likes to hide. I wish to help you and tell you who killed your father.”
“Who did it then? I will tell the town and they will hold court on him!”
“No, no my dear. First, I must ask you a few favors. Little things that will make me happy. You will perform four things for me over four years. One for each season. After the last of these tasks is completed, then I will tell you who killed your father. Now, before you agree, I must tell you, when I reveal who killed your father, you will want revenge, but you will not get it. No matter how hard you try.”
“I agree.” She thought, Justice. That’s enough revenge for me. I want to see him hanged by trial and then I’ll be happy.
“Good. We shall start now. First, I want you to take all of your father’s possessions that he is now wearing and when the time comes to remove them to prepare his body for his funeral, keep them somewhere safe the way they are. Right after the burial, gather them up and do as I say. Nail his hat to the northern side of the front of the arch. You must throw his shoes into the best crops that you have this year. The rest of his clothes must be buried in this order. Make a diamond with the east point in the middle of the arch, about where you are. On the North, bury his tops. In the west, bury his undergarments. In the south, his socks, and in the east, his pants. Make sure to make it seem as the ground has been undisturbed as much as possible. Can you remember all that?”
“Yes.”
“Will you do it?”
“Yes.”
“Then go, child. Tell the others of what has happened to your father. And remember, keep them in a safe place and then right after he is buried, you know what to do.”
She wiped her eyes, not noticing that her father’s blood had gotten onto her hands. “Yes. Thank you.” She ran to the town center and called for them to please help her for her father had been killed.
As the years went by, each season, the face in the stone arch gave Victoria a different task. Things as simple as decorating it in the spring or autumn. But then other things, stranger things, like feeding it the blood of one of the newborn pigs from another farm on Christmas day. Now she was doing all these things for him and keeping the farm her father had left to her. While she kept it well, one crop grew beautifully until a few weeks before harvest, where it then withered and died for no know reason. It was always in the same plot. The one she had thrown her father’s shoes into. She asked the face why this was happening and he told her, “There are different kinds of magic. Some flow naturally with the world, some cannot work without taking from something else. I use both. I flow naturally with the crop, making it grow, but then I need more energy to continue so I must take the life from the crops. It is not long until our deal will be done and it shall no longer affect you.” She accepted this and went on with her work.
After the final task was done, she went to the face and said to him, “I have done all that you have asked of me for the time agreed. Now tell me, who killed my father?”
“Patience, dear Victoria. For we shall wait until the end of the season. At the end of the season, return here and I shall tell you. But travel as little as possible under the arch until then.”
So she did this for him. And at the end of the season, she returned. “Now, I have done everything and more then we had agreed on. Tell me who killed my father!”
The face smiled. “My dear. I am so happy to see how you have grown these four years. And yet, you have not noticed the strange things around you that you would have had you not done what I told you. Your friend never came back from his work he took over for his father. No one has been in or out of the
town since he left. And he left the same day as your father died.”
“You mean he killed him?” She was shocked and in disbelief.
“No. He did not kill him. Child, learn to be patient and not just listen for what you want, but all I tell you. The reason no one has come to the town is because they all have died past the outskirts. Think of everything that was different that day. Your friend left. Your father died. Yes. But what else was there that was different? Do you see now? Ah, I can see by your face that you haven’t gotten it yet so I shall tell you. I killed them. I came to life that day. That is the other thing that was different. I did not make the father ill, no, that was luck. But when your friend left the town, I struck him down. Then I killed your father just before you got here. You see, I am the rocks. I am the stones. I needed a slave to give me extra power accumulated over four years. Blood sacrifices and the energy of the plants. And each animal was more evolved then the last. Starting with rats, then chickens, then pigs, ah, if you had actually thought about what you were doing you would have realized something was off.”
Victoria had grown very angry. She picked up a rock and started bashing the bowl and face. Nothing but crumbling rock was left. But she felt a pain in her hand and jumped back, dropping the rock. It had turned sharp and made her bleed. She heard a voice, not like someone was talking, like a breeze on the wind. “I am all rocks. Everything around you is rock. You can never escape.” She turned and ran to the town center. There, the stone buildings had collapsed on people, stones seemed to have thrown themselves at the ones not under the falling rocks. Then, they started to laugh. The rocks started to laugh at her. She ran from town. She ran, trying to find someplace that had no rocks. But everywhere she went, it seemed rocks were laughing at her. Shy turned around and saw that they were following her. Even the rocks that had made up the face and bowl she had smashed were following her, making the face with a wide mouth. She ran until she came to a tall tree. She climbed to the top, far above the rocks. “I’m safe.” She panted to herself. She knew she couldn’t live up there, but she could catch her breath and stay sane long enough to make a plan. But then she saw a bird making a nest in another branch. It set down some rocks. The nest shook as the rocks came to the top. And they formed a small face and started laughing. She stood and screamed. “WHAT? What else? My whole town is gone! Do you want to torture me my whole life? Or…”
“I need one last sacrifice. Haven’t you gathered that yet? If you counted your father as one, then you would have four, but you should know better. I needed my power from the plants first. So, I need your blood.”
“What about all the people in the town? You have their blood!”
“Ah, I didn’t think I would need theirs. I gave their blood to the sand.”
She stood there, unsteadily, having to keep correcting her balance, “So what do you want? How shall I die?” The face came over under the tree and opened its mouth to reveal water with sharp, jagged rocks on the bottom. She closed her eyes, and Victoria jumped into the mouth of the face in the stone arch, who was powerful enough, to move to another village or town, and do it all over again.
If I remember correctly, I was the only person in my entire class that had someone die in... Any of their stories. Most of the people in my creative writing class were very happy or romantic in their writing where I was very morbid. But, well, that's how it goes. I hope you liked the story. If you did or didn't and want to comment, feel free to. Thanks for reading.
