"The young lass 'twas so quiet, she could barely hold a lie, 'twas the elder's cruel riot, who removed her sweet eye."

A soft tone slithered through the evening air, gliding across a ruby red lipped canvas. Faint beams of light invaded the violet colorized-glass that surrounded the darkened room, saturating into the sagging wrinkles of the white washed cotton. 

"Lids coated by gold, lashes laced with ore,  the elder thought 'twill be a trifle sold, he would send it to the shore."

Each stroke of the gold soaked bristles slid down the portrait, while equally golden eyes narrowed upon a brown blemish that had appeared on the nose. 

"The young woman mourned for the eye that she'd had host, but the vicar chastised her to no end," The brush came to a halt against the throat's crisp coated skin. "Tis wiser to rebuke the old and the lost, than to revel in the evil and the misfortune it will send. " 

"Isla."

Wood scraped against wood as a thin pair of hands placed the tool back inside its oak whittled case.

"Isla, are you able to hear me, dearie?" 

They dressed the painting in a crêpe colored veil before swiveling around to rip down another that sat by their side. 

"I know you can hear me, I see the quirking of your lips." 

With her face half hidden in the shadows, the young woman shrugged, the wisps of her cream kissed curls plaited down her back.

"Perhaps it is in my best interests if I were to ignore you, Mémére." 

"I wait here for fifteen cycles of the lunar-sentient phase for you to tell me you don't feel like addressing my presence. Cast me back into the whirling abyss if you must, but spare me the attentions of that...man."

A short chuckle squirmed up Isla's throat, prying her lips open just enough to catch her Mémére's glance. 

"You know how much I despise him! And I refuse to allow you to confine me to the same amount of space as him and his... hobbies."

Water poured leisurely over Isla's pallet, as did her smile over her face. 

"You know how much Pépére appreciates your visits." 

"Of course he does! I'm the only one in this wretched place, safe for himself and a few others."

Isla raised an eyebrow, placing the circular tray into a nearby bin. "You know that it is my conscience you are co-inhabiting, and I'm not sure you are doing what's best for it." 

The short scoff echoed across the ridges and valleys within Isla's brain, followed by what she could only presume was the rolling of eyes and muttering under her breath.

"It would do you good to listen to it for once, sweetie."

"I do listen, Mémére. It's avoiding the voices that I find difficulty with." 

Exiting the room, Isla walked down the metal lined hallway that led to the main sector of her home. Steam rose from a large bundle of cogs and wires that snored with each beat of its oil driven heart in the center of the room. 

Isla scooped up a bucket from next to the slumbering beast, before standing atop a foot stool to pour the contents down it's burning throat.

"Just a few more days, Mi Ange," she murmured, patting the metal affectionately.

She leaned her forehead against its side, taking a deep breath as that familiar throbbing in her fingers began.

"Isla! You ungrateful cow! Where are you?"

Her lips tightened as she stared up a skeletal spiral staircase. "What is it, Veda?"

"You forgot to clean the exterior of the carrier! How do you expect to earn your place when all my mother has done for you has been out of the kindness of her heart?"

"Is she speaking of Satan again, dearie?" Mémére guffawed, her voice farther off than it had been a few moments before.

A smirk dashed across Isla's face again. "I'm not quite sure, Veda."

"Of course you aren't," Veda spat, descending the stairs with her nose tilted upwards. "It would have served my mother better if she had left your cursed mother to rot in that well." 

"Has she ever seen a looking glass before?" Mémére's voice grew fainter, and it was as if Isla could see the illuminated pathway between their two worlds fading. "I must go for now, dearie. I shall return soon... do be careful."

"I'll try, Mémére," Isla whispered. A cool sweep of sadness caressed her cheek as Veda approached, chocolate colored eyes smothered in waves of disgust.

"Crying. How pathetic."

Veda shouldered past Isla, approaching a large panel that had been built into the ship's mainframe. 

Isla's head whipped to the side with the weight of a flashing silver suit and a larger silver helmet that Veda threw at her from the controls. 

"Get on with it, before we all expire from self induced asphyxiation,"she sneered, pressing her hand into the power console, which was soon followed by a short, high pitched whistle piercing the air.

That familiar tug against her shoulders drew Isla further into the dark void that lay beyond the carrier's forcefields. Pulling the material over her body, she snapped the suit into place while the helmet secured itself with a hiss of pressurized air.

Isla tore a long cord from the wall near the black opening, attaching it to the back of her suit. She peeked over the edge of the drop off before stepping back a few paces. Veda smirked at her from behind the panel, waving her away with her hands.

"Not scared, are we, Isla?"

Not giving her step-sister an opportunity to respond, Isla broke into a sprint, running across the platform and plunging into the welcoming arms of the black abyss beneath her.

Despite being tucked away inside the suit, Isla could feel her hair being whipped at by the ever present winds, tearing at her clothes and her skin as she tumbled through time. 

She knew needed to find the handle attached to the other side of the ship, otherwise she had no idea whether or not she would be able to pull herself back from the void.

Her stepmother had warned her of the dangers in casting oneself into the void, but the dark territories that served as home to many aboriginal cultures since the Soleil explosions had long been thought to contain something more ancient than the lunar settlers themselves.

The darkness was a means of travel, had been as long as Isla could remember, however, something was wrong this time. Her hand flew through the shadows, searching for any grip on the reality she was meant to be in, yet all she could feel was a sweet, chilled breeze nipping at her fingertips.

"You need to reach out now," a voice whispered. 

Isla tensed while her fingers stretched. "Who said that?"

"Does that really matter? As far as I can see, you have found yourself in quite a great deal of error."

"How are you able to see anything?"

"Reach."

As Isla threw her arm farther out into the darkness, she screamed as cool fingers wrapped around her wrist and pulled her to the right into a deeper darkness.

"Where are you taking me?" Isla screamed, scratching at her wrist, only to discover it was her skin she was fighting against.

"Where did you go?"

"Nowhere," the voice murmured, and the grasp on Isla's wrist vanished as her feet connected with the ground and she fell to her knees.

Gasping, she pried her eyes open and fell onto her back with a scream.

Green. That's all her eyes could seem to take in as she yanked her helmet off of her head. 

Earth. Was that what surrounded her? Clean, breathable air that she inhaled? She didn't know how it was possible.

She propped herself back up and slowly removed her suit, holding her hand out to see if anything would grab her again, but she felt nothing.

"You're quite a curious one, aren't you?"

With a shriek, Isla swung her body around, only to come face to face with a elderly woman in a white shawl. The woman smiled, her wrinkles bunching around the corners of her eyes while a mouth full of terrifying teeth caused Isla to raise her guard.

"I hope I didn't startle you, dear. I do have the habit of it."

Isla took a step back, smiling hesitantly. "Only a little. I wasn't expecting you."

"Not many do," the elderly woman chuckled, patting Isla on the cheek, "I was walking along and felt that I needed to ask for a favor from you." 

"How did you know I was here?"

The woman winked, "Intuition you would call it. And where would you think we are, dear?"

Isla's eyes travelled around the pair of them, coming across grass, a small mass of fur, which startled her to see running across the ground, and strange wood-structured plants standing hundreds of feet off the ground. 

Her skin had begun to warm, while a strange, transient light faded in and out behind large, frost covered fluff in the sky. 

She felt her brows furrow as she turned back to the old woman. "I'm not sure. I've never seen anything like it in my lifetime."

"It's not Earth, merely a settlement in the Finire quadrant. I could hear you thinking it, now come along."

The old woman's grip on her arm was tight as she guided her through the grassy field. The voices in Isla's mind had once again gone silent, and it was clear she wasn't going to be receiving any helpful advice. 

"How do you know what I was thinking," Isla said, walking slower, "if I might ask?"

A spark lit up the woman's eyes. "You may ask, and you were practically shouting it at me, dear."

Isla shook her head, and slowed her pace further as they approached a petite wooden cabin, shrouded in feathery foliage and white and blue bundles. 

Opening the door, the old woman smiled and directed Isla towards the kitchen table. Much like the outside of the house, the inside of the abode was just as warm and fragile-looking. Trinkets lined the walls as far as Isla could see, while a sweet smell wafted over from the stove.

The older woman carried over two stone cups, steam rising from their rims as she set one down in front of Isla and took her seat with a sigh. While she drank, Isla sniffed the cup and looked back up to her, "Excuse me for all the questions, but you must admit this situation is odd. I'm not meant to be here. I'm supposed to be cleaning a carrier—. I don't even know your name."

"Mother Holle, dear." The woman smiled again, nodding towards the untouched cup. "And you should have no fear, I didn't poisoned your drink. It would be a bit rude on the first visit, wouldn't you think? Would scare off the neighbors."

Isla laughed, voice cracking when she took a small sip. "I'm curious as to why you invited me in the first place, is all. What is it you have to ask me?"

"The very thing I asked of your mother!" Mother Holle exclaimed, as if the answer should have been clear to begin with.

A shiver ran down Isla's spine and she tugged the sleeves on her arms down further. "How did you know my mother?"

"Did she never mention me?" Mother Holle shook her head, and walked over to one of her many shelves. "I would say I'm offended, but your mother was such a sweetheart I feel it would be an insult to her memory."

"You know then." Isla found herself stating, the metal against her skin beginning to burn again.

"Of course, dear. Now, to my proposition, before those pesky relatives of yours cloud up your brain waves."

Isla's head jerked up, eyes blown wide. "How did you--"

Mother Holle chuckled. "Some things are best left to themselves, but as I am sure you have noticed by now, you are stranded in this place for the time being and have no means to take care of yourself. Your mother fell, quite literally, into a similar situation like this."

"When she fell into the well," Isla murmured. Her mother had told her the stories before she had died, and the marks on her skin were the truth to her tale. 

"Precisely." 

Smiling, Mother Holle returned to the table with a small paper package in her hands. "All that I will ask of you is to help me. I am quite old in age, and these brittle bones don't agree with me like they used to. In exchange for your help, I will provide safe travels for you to return to your home, and I will also give you this gift, as a token of my gratitude."

"Help with...?"

"Oh simple things. Aiding me in cooking meals, cleaning around the house, and making the beds. However, I would ask that you shake out the covers in such a way that the feathers would fall in every different direction, for scenic purposes."

Isla nodded slowly as a voice called out to her from the darkness. "Isla? Isla, you must be able to hear me, it's much lighter in here than usual."

"Not now, Mémére," she whispered, smiling at Mother Holle. 

"Don't ignore me, child. Who is it that you are speaking to?"

Stretching her hand out, Mother Holle smiled back. "Do we have an agreement?"

"Isla," Mémére shouted, "What are you--"

"Yes." Isla smiled. "We have an agreement."

Other voices rose in protest in Isla's mind, but she drew a dark veil across them all as Mother Holle clapped her hands together.

"Splendid! Let's get started then."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Within the few weeks that followed, or what Isla believed them to be, she worked hard alongside Mother Holle as they tidied up the house.

Cobwebs collected and dust bunnies gathered, Isla worked both day and night for her caretaker, with not so much as a peep of complaint. And above all, she made sure to fluff the bed to perfection.

As she tucked in the covers one day, her sleeve accidentally slid up to her elbow, and much to the delight of Mother Holle, displayed the opaquely designed lines against her skin.

"No need to worry, dear," Mother Holle laughed. "I gave your mother the very same blessing when she worked for me."

"Blessing?" 

Mother Holle raised an eyebrow. "Have you never tried to see what the decadently golden lines themselves can do?"

"Never." 

"I suggest you give it a whirl the next time you're around your stepsister," she cackled, her yellowed teeth shining as she worked .

Isla frowned. "How do you know of my sister?"

Mother Holle winked before heading back down the hall towards the kitchen, while Isla ran a finger down the thin golden scars that had been engrained in her skin since birth.

Ignoring further question, Isla followed suit and returned to the kitchen for dinner.

The next morning, however, a faint voice lifted the thick velvet curtain that she had laid over her mind weeks before.

"It's time to go home, Isla."

Shivering, a muscle in Isla's jaw twitched. "No."

"Don't be so prickly, Isladora." 

"Don't call me that." 

"I quite agree with her, dear." Mother Holle called out, hobbling over from a small section of flowers with clumps of dirt in her hand. 

"I don't understand how you can hear her either!" 

Taking ahold of Isla's arm, Mother Holle began to guide her back down the lonely pathway. Birds chirped in the distance as they came to a stop in front of an old gnarled trunk, something that she had quickly learned to be called a tree.

"It is about time that you returned home to your family, Isla." 

The old woman placed a hand over Isla's heart, immediately causing the younger woman to draw back. 

"What if I don't wish to go?" 

She chuckled, holding her hand out. "Does the snowflake every wish to fall? Or the apple to ripen and leave its sweet branches? Life wasn't  meant to be simple or comfortable, dear, and now it is time to face it with your head held high." 

A tear raced down Isla's cheek. "But what am I to do?"

"Be brave." 

Mother Holle placed her hand back on Isla, murmuring a few words, and then placing the silver laced package into the young woman's hands. 

"Your mother would have wanted you to have it," she murmured, stepping back with each word. "Now go." 

Isla ripped through the wrapping of the box to peer inside, just as her vision began to fade, her feet lifted from the ground and the voices of her Mémére and others began to flood her mind. 

"Isla! For the love of all that is—!"

"You promised you would never—!" 

"The carrier still isn't clean—!"

But they all paled in comparison as Isla scooped up a gold-encrusted circular machine from within. 

Wiping away at its top, she turned it over a few times, gasping aloud as she clicked a button hidden in its side and a compartment slid open.

"...lids coated by gold..." 

Her fingertips smoothed over the heated machine, her mouth falling open. 

"...lashes laced with ore..." 

Purple irises sprung from the purring gears, mechanical clicks ticking against Isla's palms. 

"...he would send it to the shore..."

"Welcome, Isla Galia." It chattered, freezing the air in Isla's lungs. 

"W-what is it you want?" Isla murmured, stumbling back into the darkness.

All was silent as the whirring of the eye came to a halt on Isla's rigid figure, clicking and groaning with each movement. Hissing as a paper shot out from its side, it illuminated the outer space around them as it whispered. 

"I wish to show you the possibilities." 

About the author:

Alyssa Anne, aka @Lyssagirl7686, mainly writes Fantasy fairytale retellings, but dabbles in Horror from time to time. Being a socially awkward, yet deeply sarcastic and fun-loving human, she spends any spare time she can find to write. She hopes to have any of her works in hard copy some day, but is very grateful for the followers, readers and friends she has acquired through the Wattpad community.

▪ ▪ ▪

Share the love -- vote, comment & spread the word 🧡