Chained Freedom- A Free Fantasy

by Natasja Hellenthal

  The people who were transported from the outside left no traces, so their relatives and friends didn’t know where to start looking.

  I had already lived in the tower for over four seasons by now, days of working on the land with others slaves chosen for their skills, never forced to exactly, but just doing it, for if we refused we knew we would soon die. That happened to the ones who lay down their tools and disobeyed the rules for a time and just sat around, doing nothing or those that quarreled or fought with each other. The wizard would always know who was not pulling their weight or causing trouble and those who did, would soon be dragged upstairs, one by one.

  I tried to stay out of trouble and just focus on growing corn, beans and potatoes , helping them grow by watering and even talking to them and then harvest the crops when the time came. To me it was important work, because it gave me some purpose. I also did a number of other things for our basic needs, like helping out in the kitchen or cleaning in the main hall as I felt hygiene was important. I even tried to smile to people and talk a little, but I had to be careful. The men could take it the wrong way, and on more than one occasion I had to fight my way out of their arms.

  Those who cared as I did tried to make things as bearable as possible with self-made games. We didn’t have much hope, but somehow we felt we had to keep our spirits up to bear it at all. What other choice did we have? I often wondered if it was my punishment to end up there. I never stopped wondering why. What did I ever do to deserve this grim fate?’

  The eyes of the storyteller made contact with her audience again and received nods and encouragement to continue on with the story. What indeed had she done, they all thought and what had they themselves done to deserve their fates in life?

  ~~~

  ‘One morning just after breakfast we watched another frightened soul being pulled up the steep stairs to the wizard’s room; the second person he had called for this week. In fact it was the man who had tried to make a move on me the day before by cornering me and pushing me against the tower wall. I had to kick him in the groins to get rid of him. That was when it dawned on me: what if this wasn’t the wizard’s doing?

  ‘What if it’s us…somehow,’ I said to the others sat near me. ‘and not the wizard at all?’ who is evil? I added in my own thoughts. They looked at me as if I had lost my mind. They knew I talked to myself out in the fields and that I was always looking for flowers in the hills. Flowers, even in the tiniest form, gave me a bit of hope. Hope that amongst all that was wrong around us, there was still some beauty left.

  I dropped the issue and didn’t mention it again but on the inside I just couldn’t let it go. There were times when days, even whole weeks went by without anyone being called up. Those were the good days where everyone’s spirits would lift with hope.

  Sometimes we quietly discussed the issue of how he had picked each of us out in the first place. Did he pick us out at random or had he watched us somehow before he made his choices, and if so for how long? Did we as prisoners have things in common? But for all that we racked our brains we never found a satisfactory answer.

  The most awful thing was to live with the constant feeling of doom hanging over you and because of that alone I lost a lot of weight. As did most people.

  We were all curious to know what happened in that tower after our compatriots were taken up there. Some people even tried to climb the tower from the outside in order to have a peek in through one of the upper windows, but they found it impossible as their feet and hands would struggle to find a good grip. Only a child might have been able to do that but there were never any children transported to our prison, which was of course a good thing in itself . Nobody ever managed it; nobody was able to see what went on inside.

  ~~~

  One day I clenched my fists firm as I watched a young chubby woman being dragged up the wizard’s stairs. What had she done wrong? I tried to remember what she was called, Enior, I thought. Or something like that. She kept herself to herself like me, but this morning she had got into a row with another woman.

  Enior struggled, of course; they always did, but we gave up long ago trying to hold on to the victims in an attempt to try to defeat the wizard together. Not even twenty people holding on tight could keep them with us.

  I sought out the woman Enior had rowed with and asked for details. She was small and had greasy mousy brown hair she kept short and wore spectacles.

  ‘Oh, that,’ the woman shrugged her shoulders. ‘It was nothing and I feel bad about it now, but it was she who started it really,’ the look of pain on her face was genuine. ‘It was just about this loaf of bread that she pinched from me. You know how she was always munching away on anything she could get her hands on,’ she sighed. ‘But I myself hadn’t eaten all day and you know how we all only have one loaf to last us a whole week! Well, I was going to savour every crumb of it, I was! I caught her stealing my bread and confronted her about it. She hid it from me and she lied about it! Well, I shouldn’t have shouted at her and all, but I did. And then she took a big bite out of my loaf right there in front of me before throwing it in my face! It landed in the dust it did, all ruined!’

  I thought about that long and hard. What if that behaviour in itself had cost her her life?

  ‘Try not to worry too much about it,’ I tried to console the woman, but she again shrugged her shoulders and went on with her business of mending clothes, as if she had already forgotten about it. That was the way it was around there. If you tried too long to think about the things you had said and done to other people in there; or about those who went up the stairs, it would drive one mad with guilt.

  Hopeless and mysterious as it all seemed, I for one was not someone who gave up that easily. I longed to stroll the green woods again, to hear the birds sing and the laughter of children, see wild animals again, look into my parents’ eyes, feel their arms around me; how they must miss me like I missed them… My heart was aching. It was as if all those things I longed for called me and whispered in the wind, ‘Come home to us.’’

  ~~~

  ‘That call was very strong and grew in strength with each passing day, until one day I couldn’t stand it any longer. While the heartache of missing family and friends seemed to break others, it somehow strengthened me. Above everything else the shield had kept my curiosity, and that brought me to finally examine the unseen magical wall closer; not that other people hadn’t tried to before me. I just wanted to walk up to it one more time and examine it more closely, what harm could that do? Our situation had in fact improved around the year that I arrived. For one it was a lot cleaner and fresher as I took it upon myself to air the place by leaving the door open. As more creative people arrived there were new things to do, to cook, to eat and to make and to entertain each other with. Those who had been there longest were quite satisfied with the structure and stability the work gave them, the food and the games; some even believed that when you worked hard, ate sparsely, did everything you could and never complained, you would never be called for. I found that somehow hard to believe, despite my initial thoughts, for I saw with my own eyes that all sorts of people were dragged up the stairs; hardworking and rebellious, but I understood that they wanted to believe in this, anything that gave them some kind of hope or strength to carry on. Had I overlooked something?

  I started to observe things and situations around me, whereas before I tried my best to stay away from most of the prisoners. I even started talking to them again, asking for their names, their life stories. Some were easier to talk to than others. What had they been doing the very moment when they were transported? But I never found any satisfying answer. They had all had lives similar to me and nothing stood out. These people weren’t murderers or rapists, although I felt that was debatable as no-one would really be honest I sensed, but still. We all had one common ground; we desperately craved our freedom.

  It wasn’t painful if you touched the unseen wall, but when you came too close to it, it was as if this forc
e field pushed you backwards, and a voice could be heard floating into space; ‘Go back, you don’t want to leave. Look what will happen!’ And then terror took over. Visions of dark moonless nights, enclosed by looming trees that leaned over, gripping me with their claw like branches, howling wolves closing in on me, me running and falling over; despairing with bleeding knees, alone and scared, visions that left my heart almost jumping out of my chest. None of it was real of course, but it did the trick well enough for all of us.

  One summer night when , like so many other nights, I couldn’t sleep, I walked amongst the growing crops in the small cultivated fields and then further…towards the last grass hill where the unseen wall of our prison began. It wasn’t completely dark yet, but I could already see some stars. They reminded me of a song of my homeland. I could almost hear the voice of my mother when we watched the night sky together, ‘Where is your star? Is it near, is it far, is it closer than-’ My thoughts broke off abruptly when I heard another voice whisper. It had sounded like, ‘Look…’

  I opened my eyes wider and my heart pounded heavily in my ears. I glanced toward the dark pinewoods that seemed nearer than ever; where the voice appeared to have come from, and I slowly walked a little closer, forgetting the magical wall for a moment…

  The ground where I fell was hard and my chest and head hurt. I cursed myself for walking straight into the invisible wall so carelessly and looked immediately over at the tower. He would know what just happened, wouldn’t he? There was a red light behind his round window, nothing out of the ordinary. The wizard never seemed to sleep, a bit like me these days.

  I glimpsed again towards the woods, then the fear came. I could swear I heard a voice again that spoke more clearly this time, ‘Look closer,’ there it was again! It was undoubtedly a female voice.

  ‘Look closer where?’ I asked out loud and got up, walking towards the wall but keeping a safer distance this time and forced my eyes to search for anything out of the ordinary. I could feel the pressure from the energy field pressing like air against air, but I didn’t understand what the voice meant or was trying to show me. I couldn’t see or feel anything different.

  With ears pierced ready to hear something, anything, I started to walk a little bit to the right from where I had first heard the voice and tried to peek into the looming shadows within the woods. All I could see were the dark trunks of the trees growing there; I could even smell the sweet scent of their needles; even the resin, so near, yet so far, but no owner to that voice.

  ‘Open your eyes…look and be free…’ I heard again.

  ‘What is this?’ I asked. ‘Look and…be free? Is this some sick joke? Look where?’

  ‘Better.’ the voice replied with more force.

  I tried to discover the woman who whispered to me, but could not locate her.

  ‘Is this a trick from… the wizard?’ I dared to say.

  ‘This is no trick, I promise! You have to trust me. You’ll have to let go of what you know in order to see,’ the voice whispered.

  I frowned and thought about the simple but odd suggestion. What did she mean?

  ‘Look with your hands…feel.’

  Look with my hands? I thought still confused, but when stretching my trembling hands out forwards, I only felt even more pressure from the magic wall. But when I actually touched the wall itself I found it was cold and buzzing as if it was alive!

  ‘Now search.’

  I began to understand that this mysterious person wanted to help me and I followed the instructions with a racing heart. It was after all, the first real hope I’d had since I was sent there. Even if it ended up being a trick from the wizard, which I didn’t think was the case, it was at least, something.

  But everyone had looked so hard for an opening already, there just hadn’t been anything there. Why would it be any different for me now?

  But what if something had changed? My body began to sweat and shake from excitement, though it still felt more like a dream than reality.

  As I let go of my doubts I soon found a tiny gap. It was small, just big enough for my hand to slide through. The air on the other side felt slightly warmer, or perhaps that had just been my imagination?

  I was amazed, stunned for a fleeting moment to have actually found a hole in the magical shield! Was I still dreaming? Had it been there all along, so nearby, so easy to be found? It couldn’t be.

  I slipped my whole arm in the opening, but when the wall reached my shoulder I found the hole was too small and didn’t give way to fit my shoulder, neck or head. There was too much resistance from the shield itself.

  ‘I can’t get through,’ I mentioned to the mysterious woman. ‘Could you give me your hand?’

  She did and I felt her warm soft fingers close around mine. I was glad for the human touch, the help that was out there and new optimism took hold of me. I had to break free, even if it would mean my death! I could feel her pull a little, trying to help me and I actually felt the opening getting bigger around my shoulder. Adrenaline rushed through me as freedom was getting within reach now; the world that was out there I once belonged to was feeling close again. Memories of my parents seeped through me and that of my farm and my animals, I so hoped someone had taken care of them all in my absence. I wanted to tell my mother I loved her and to never have silly rows again. I felt…alive again.

  I took my chances and somehow…squeezed through the hole that was bigger now. With my leg I stepped through the gap and as I did I could feel the wall closing in behind me, pushing me forward, spitting me out.

  I managed to break my fall, I remembered the hand, but the woman was gone and I shivered, although it wasn’t from cold. I looked back into the dark behind me. Nothing had really changed; I could see the same hills, fields, however... I couldn’t see the tower anymore. Did the shield hide its existence from unwanted guests?

  Now that I was at the other side, in the pinewood I felt frightened and unsure. Had it all been a dream? I even had the odd feeling of wanting to go back to that safety net of the tower. Very odd indeed now that I think back to it. A magic pull? Who knows?’

  Chapter Four - Fay Comyenti

  ‘I was outside my prison at last. And I was alone.

  I started to hurry like the voice had advised and ran through the dark woods with my heart pounding heavily against my chest. It felt so good, I felt so alive I wanted to shout out, but I didn’t dare to.

  When I stopped for air I remembered the voice; my saviour, but still couldn’t see anyone.

  Full of all the emotions that I’d kept inside of me for so long I finally let go and I leaned heavily with my forehead against a thick pine tree, hugging it like a long lost relative and started to cry. After a while, I sat down when all of a sudden I felt a presence. That’s when I met Fay…’

  Tana smiled at her blonde travel companion and then glanced around at the audience again as if she had just woken up, having forgotten that they were there. It had been so intense to think back and retell the story, but she needed to. A few people were staring at her with wide-open mouths.

  ‘A true story?’ Tana could hear them think, just the same response as all the other times that she told her story before to other people in other villages, other cities. Over and over again wherever they went…

  Tana and Fay exchanged looks. The pretty woman with the fair hair wore a green headband to cover her unusual pointed ears. She nodded at her to continue.

  The storyteller inhaled the evening air deeply before she turned back towards the crowd and then inward within herself again with that mysterious look that Fay so loved about her. Even though she had heard the story many times before, she would never grow tired of hearing her friend’s voice. When Tana appeared to look at the audience, she didn’t really. They couldn’t distract her with their own thoughts and looks, like they did to Fay, who was gifted, unintentionally.

  ‘Fay Rosinhill had been walking all night through the old pinewoods. It had something magical and she was drawn
to it like a fish to water. Although she had seen a great deal of the world so far, this was what she loved most, besides the mountains; the green woods, unspoilt by human hands, full of life and hidden treasures. The wind seemed to whisper her name softly and she stood still in astonishment. Dusk was turning into night and she had yet to find a sleeping place. Pale moonlight shone on her blond hair and she welcomed the moon happily when she found a small clearing.

  Near a little pond with a rushing waterfall she dropped her rucksack and stretched her tired legs. She heard the sound of frogs and it was then that her name sounded again, whispering…Her ancestors spoke to her in the wind, you see. Her maternal grandmother was one of her guides, as was her aunt, Feline. They tried to tell her something. Evil was near. And not only those spirits told her, but the woodland animals all warned her as well.

  It had been earlier that same evening that Fay had found the magical shield around those fields, with its buzzing magnetic field pushing her back and even though she didn’t see the tower, she did see someone trapped on the other side and knew that she needed her help.’

  ~~~

  ‘‘Psst,’ I heard.

  I dried my wet face with my ragged sleeve and looked cautiously around.

  A figure was standing a few trees away with moonlight in their hair like some kind of halo. My heart started to beat so fast from fear and excitement that it hurt. Was this the wizard I was finely going to meet or was it the woman from before? I could almost feel her hand in mine still. The figure had been standing there for some time so I dared to ask, ‘Who…are you?’