Chapter Six: Curiousity and Courage

    Celi was an inquisitive child. One of the most inquisitive children Erin had ever met. She was worse than he was at that age. Everything was a mystery to her, and in her eyes, even the most common of objects was magical.

   When Erin came to get her for dinner, he found her examining a carpet in her room with wide eyes. She was just standing there, a sorry sight in a once white, but now dirty gray, too small slip, staring down at a carpet, mystified by the colors and pattern.

    "It's very nice," she said to him when he asked what she was doing. "I'm trying to memorize the details, so I can always look back on it and remember such things exist. You have a knack for decorating."

   Erin stared at her, surprised, and thinking that she was very strange. He pressed his lips into a thin line - though she couldn't see his expression anyway.

   "Thank you. This particular piece is from India. I travelled to the bright country a few years ago, and this carpet caught my eye. I bought it from a street vendor."

Her eyes grew to the size of plates. Erin wondered how much larger they could grow, for they had to be breaking physical laws already. "You went to India?"

   Erin chuckled. "Yes, I've been to many places. Maybe... if certain situations come to a pleasant end, I'll take you some day."

   Sometimes adults said things to make themselves feel good; they didn't actually intend to fulfill their promises. Celi did not believe for one minute he would lower himself to go anywhere with her. But she knew better than to let on.

   "I'll answer any questions and tell you more while we walk to the dining room."

   Erin held the heavy door open for her and she walked under his arm. As they walked, she asked about the decor, and he answered, as he said he would.

   "Where is that purple vase from?"

   "Argentina."

   "And the carpet in the hall?"

     "Arabia."

     "And the painting of the tree?"

    "Persia. I lived there for a very long time. A friend of mine painted that for me as a going away present."

    "It's lovely."

   On and on, the two chatted. Celi's innocence and lack of knowledge was endearing and refreshing. So different from the people Erin usually kept company with, who often knew too much.

    At dinner, she ate her turkey and rolls hungrily, while listening to Erin speak, asking questions when he stopped talking to pick at his food or drink some wine. He was mostly concerned with her eating.

   She hung on his every word, storing what he said away in her mind for her to dissect later.

   He introduced her to what was called Culture, and she instantly fell in love with the concept.

   Culture was made of so many things, music, art, science, language, color, patterns, and beautiful things. Everything made from the stars, the material that came purely from dreams and history.

   Erin and Celi spoke to each other nonstop. The servant waiting to clean up wondered where the little girl had come from, and how, when their was at least a fifteen year difference in their ages, they could speak fluently to each other.

   Finally, when the candles were dying, and the night grew cold, Erin escorted Celi back to her room, having noticed the way her eyelids drooped and her voice turned softer.

    Celi had screamed before until she couldn't speak, but she'd never spoken until her voice turned raspy and lost it's strength.

   "It's late, my dear. You've had a very long and tiring day. Good night, Celi."

   "Goodnight Erin."

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        Celi did not sleep well, if she managed to sleep at all. Most of the night, she stood in front of the bed feeling she would spoil it's prettiness if she so much as touched it; it was too fine for her. There was such a contrast between the clean silk and the dirty girl.

   And of course, she was afraid to close her eyes in case when she opened them in the morning, this loveliness was gone and she was alone again, in Red's hands, for today could have been a dream. It was wonderful, and Celi had little experience with wonderful things. How was she to know whether or not they disappeared?

   Finally, she settled down on the floor and curled up.

    Celi did not dream. She hardly slept. There were too many emotions running around her heart to allow her to sleep; she was restless and wide awake. At one point during the night, she thought she heard a lovely melody drifting up from under the floor. It was sleek, hushed, but demanding. But before she could make anything else out, the sound stopped. She began to count the threads on the carpet, curious, awake, feeling both sad and happy. She was sad because her sorrow and longing for her mother had not faded, and she was happy because she was warm and full. Erin seemed like a kind man and if he were not educated and did not live in a beautiful house, Celi would have been content with just his kindness.

   It did not occur to Celi to think of him as a father, nor did it occur to him to represent himself as that figure - Erin never had one, was not sure what they were like, and frankly didn't find them very important persons anyhow. Celi thought of Erin as a friend. At first, he saw her as a simple addition to his work, and a child who was like him, and knew of his experiences. But he began to see her as a child in need who still had hope when he, at her age, had lost it long ago. He could only hope now to be so lucky as to find it again as an adult. Even though he was a very new adult, he was still getting accustomed to the idea.

   The longer he thought about Celi, the more he regarded her as a friend.

   Erin was at Celi's door at sunrise the next morning, saying he would take her for new clothes when she was up. Celi was up.

  Erin was silent and brooding that morning, and Celi knew better than to bother him with her banter, so she stared out the carriage's window on the way into the city. There was a lot to see, as Erin lived in the middle of a forest. Trees stretched for miles along the unpaved roads that rarely saw the imprint of carriage wheels. Had she been familiar with carriage rides, she would have asked why there were no trails to follow, but Celi was ignorant.

   Green leaves were turning brown, yellow, orange, and red, and they made crunching sounds under the wheels of the carriage. Celi had never seen anything like this in all her seven years. It was quite interesting. Her eyes were glued to the vibrant colors, and Erin, upon understanding her fascination, found himself beginning to appreciate them too. He usually took the outside world for granted and viewed it as a place that temporarily stole him away from his darkness. Yet nature was it's own muse; the colors were unique to each masterpiece, whether it be tree or bird. He didn't often have time to remember or appreciate this. He supposed though, now that he had her, his eyes darted to Celi, he would have to walk in the sun a bit more often.

   Celi was unaware that her guardian was studying her. She was caught by the internal thoughts dragging her attention away. She wished her mother could see Erin's grand house and the forest surrounding it.

   They entered the town a little while later, and Celi was pleased to find, when she stepped down from the carriage with Erin's supporting arm as a guide, that the sun no longer hurt her eyes.

   She could not read, but she could see from the fabrics and clothes inside the window of the store Erin had stopped at, that this was a seamstress's shop.

   "I have some business to attend to, regarding your little friends. Go in by yourself and say the Opera King sent you. Madame Clay will know what to do," Erin said.

   "I can't go alone!" Celi screeched, suddenly clinging on to him, an absurd fear overtaking her. What if she was kidnapped again? What if he didn't come back? What if he got hurt.

    "It is your choice. Either I go in with you and you forget about the others you so selflessly begged me to save yesterday, or you grow up and act mature, like a big girl, and go in yourself. I only have time for one or the other."

   "Don't leave me!" She cried, clinging to his cloak, bunching it in her little fists. He tugged it away, frowning at the wrinkles now forming in the material. "I'll die if I'm abandoned again."

   Erin's mouth twitched. "I won't abandon you, you crazy, mistreated child. What a fine little dramatic you are, you'll make a very good actress one day.

  "Celine, have I wronged you yet? No. But I do not want anyone clinging to me like this. I will not tolerate this behavior. Now go into the store and prove to me you do not need me. No, you still will not? Then you will forget about your friends?"

   Celi thought back to the conditions of the prison  she lived in with the other kids. The way they went to bed starving, cold, and without hope. Wishing for death to come and end the suffering that they could never be able to forget nor live without.

   Celi did not say another word. She clenched her fists, swallowed, and walked inside the shop, shaking from head to foot, but inwardly happy that the other children would be liberated. She'd sacrifice anything to know they were safe and out of harm's way.

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