The Chellion Days

by A.S. Morrison

showed him that secret entrance. The entrance to the tunnel was harder to find than he originally thought. After a while of poking around Ackerley found it and slid the door open to reveal the hole. He crawled into the tunnel and carefully made his way through the twists and turns until he was able to stand up in that beautiful and hidden wonderland. It smelled better than ever. The vines covering the walls made him feel like he could be in a place far removed from the problems of Chells and Welgos.

  Ackerley took in the sight for a while before settling his eyes on the girl in the black dress sitting on a log by the pool of water. He started for her, but stopped. Something didn’t feel quite right. Cerise sat hunched over, staring unwaveringly at the ground. For a moment he thought of leaving her be until the door to her residence was opened. He stood there for a bit trying to figure it out, finally deciding to go up to her.

  He sat on the other end of the log, a good three feet away, and smiled brightly. His smile immediately faded. He could tell that she had been crying. She didn’t look at him or even acknowledge his presence. She only stared at the ground unflinchingly.

  “Are you alright?” He asked comfortingly.

  She looked about to say something, but didn’t.

  He looked into the pond at the little fish swimming about. He didn’t want to pry. They sat there together for a long time. Ackerley was getting used to it now; he could sit there all day. He thought about leaving, but something told him to stay. He hoped he could be a calming force until she was ready to speak.

  “Ackerley.” She said after a great while. “How did you get over being so alone?”

  That definitely wasn’t what he expected her to say. He thought about it for a minute. “I don’t think I really did.”

  She looked in his direction without actually looking at him.

  “I mean,” he said quickly, “I think there’s a big difference between getting over something and getting through it. I got through being so alone because I had to. There wasn’t any other choice.” He stared at one particular orange fish that moved gracefully through the water. “But I never really got over it. I still think about it a lot—or try not to think about it, I guess. One day I’ll get over it. But for now I’ve only gotten through it.”

  Cerise looked up at the sky, at the clouds rolling carelessly over the thick gray walls covered in green. “I feel it now. I feel lonely.”

  Ackerley figured he knew what she meant. It sounded like that messenger brought bad news from Indigo.

  Cerise confirmed it. “I’m not a princess anymore.” She let her head slowly come down until she was looking straight ahead. Her eyes wide, it was clear she hadn’t really thought about that until she said it.

  Ackerley really wished he had some idea as to what to say, but he didn’t. “I,” he began, “I’m so—” He couldn’t bring himself to say it. He remembered so many people coming to his house in the days after his parents were killed. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry’ they all said. Sorry for what? They didn’t die. They didn’t have to deal with it like he did. He remembered promising that he would never say that to someone. “There’s nothing I can say to you now.” He whispered, echoing his internal thoughts. “Nothing that you haven’t already felt or will feel. But I’m here, and if you want to say anything—I think that’s better than me trying to make you feel better, because I can’t.”

  Cerise nodded, tears rolling down her face. “Let’s not say anything.” She choked. “Let’s just sit.”

  And they sat together on that log all day. No more words were shared. They didn’t need to be.

  Ackerley thought back to his own parents. He feared so much that he would forget the way they sounded or the way they acted as he got older. He feared it so much that for over a year he tried his hardest not to think about them at all, so that one day when he really needed it he could bring them forth in his mind and they would be there with him as if coming back from a long trip. While he sat there and watched the fish swim around he did just that. He brought them forth in his mind and listened to his dad’s stories about all the places he’d traveled, and hear his mom’s versions of some of those same stories but with more action and funnier acquaintances. He could even hear Kenton’s carefree laugh and taste the dumplings they had for dinner so often.

  Ackerley sat there on that log and cried along with Cerise. Unable to hold it back anymore he led it out for the first time since being locked in that closet those many months ago. Somehow, while sitting in that garden with all the war outside and all the problems inside, Ackerley Morzha got a little bit over his parent’s deaths, but only a little bit.

  When it got dark and they couldn’t see each other anymore Cerise stood up and quietly led the way back to her residence, using the hidden door on the outside of the castle. She didn’t turn around until they were in the plush hallway with the couches. She gave Ackerley a sorrowful smile and a long hug. She then took a key and went to unlock the door to the residence.

  Madame Thrindle stood in the center of the columned meditation room. She carried several large bags. “I’m sorry.” She cried. “I really am, but without your parents—I, well I—” She gave a low bow and walked away.

  Cerise watched her go without saying a word.

  17.

  Ackerley avoided his room until well after everyone went to bed. He didn’t much want to talk to anyone. The next morning, he got up and pretended that everything around him was just fine and that the world was going to go on uninterrupted for all time. He smiled when saying good morning to Jarn and Jamie and even had a spring to his step as he went to breakfast.

  While waiting in line to fill their plates Jarn nudged him. “Hey, hey isn’t that that girl we saw? The one from the other night?”

  A little girl sat alone at one of the tables, eating off a large plate of bread with a look of amazement that anyone used to how the food used to be would never have. She wore a light blue dress in the style of all the other everyday dresses.

  “Maybe.” Ackerley said. He didn’t get a good look at the little girl being carried in the other night.

  “Well I’ve never seen her before and I’ve seen enough of everyone here to know that she’s new.”

  “I guess you’re right.” Ackerley agreed, forgetting momentarily that there were indeed only a set number of children there.

  “I’m gonna go talk to her.” Jarn declared.

  Ackerley grabbed Jarn’s arm as he tried to go over to her. “You can’t just bombard her with questions.”

  “I want to know if they’re letting any old child in now. And what about her parents, they’d never let adults in. At least they didn’t use to.”

  “Just wait until we get our food and then we can sit with her—say there wasn’t any room anywhere else. Make it look casual.”

  Jarn waved a finger in the air. “Good thinking, Acks. That’ll be much less creepy.”

  They got their food—bread really was all they had—and went over to the little girl’s table.

  “Anyone sitting here?” Jarn asked nicely, pulling out one of the chairs and sitting down before the girl could answer.

  Luckily every other table really was full by the time they got their food.

  The girl shook her head and shrank down in her chair, staring at her last piece of bread.

  “You’re Igluoria, right?” Ackerley asked.

  Jarn covered his mouth in a vain attempt to keep himself from laughing.

  “No.” The girl said in a small voice.

  “Oh, then what was your name again?”

  “Ayya.”

  “That doesn’t sound familiar.” Jarn said. “Are you new here?”

  The girl nodded apprehensively.

  “Sounds good.” Ackerley took a bite of bread and nodded happily. “It’s nice to have you here. I’m Ackerley, and this is Jarn. Where are you from?”

  Ayya looked about ready to run away. Her ey
es darted to the exit as she sank lower into her chair. She muttered something incoherently.

  “I think I’ve been there.” Jarn mumbled through a mouthful of bread. “Real nice in the wintertime.”

  A man came up to the table and put his hands on the backs of Ackerley and Jarn’s chairs. “Excuse me, sirs but I believe it’s time to get to your first lesson.”

  They welcomed Ayya and did as they were told.

  “That’s her father!” Jarn whispered excitedly as they headed to the cloister for reading. “He’s a noble now, or he’s pretending to be one. They’re letting him pretend to be one!”

  Ackerley did get a better look at the two adults that came in that night and he knew that Jarn was right. “That’s real interesting.” He pondered thoughtfully. “But this probably isn’t as strange as we’re making it out to be. This has probably happened before.”

  “No, it hasn’t.” Jarn breathed, barely able to control his enthusiasm. “This is big; this is real big.”

  “Calm down, Yarn.” Ackerley crowed in a feeble attempt at mimicking Murdo.

  Jarn ignored him. “I just can’t tell if this is good or bad. It may be good. Or it might be bad, real bad.”

  “It just is.”

  “No,” Jarn insisted. “It isn’t just is or whatever. I told you how when I first got here we were making a giant banner that professed our love for Chell. I also told you that the nobles were trying to turn everyone into little nobles with all this junk we do all day. They