Trapped

            The amber dust of the valley caressed the dark faded hilltops and kissed the hues of the setting sun that quiet evening. It was a beautiful sight, and rare, in our dying world. It's been ages since magic had touched our valley, since life had shot forth in our stony forest branches. I watched over the years as the willows and the eucalyptus slowly crumbled to dust, and the poor creatures of the woods slowly died for lack of clean air. Somehow nature had turned against us.

            It all started hundreds of years ago. The magic of the valley had been consumed, leaving nothing for us but waste. It was a slow, painful, harsh waste. We all grew closer and closer to extinction, till nothing was left but the Inner City. We called it Emerald.

            Emerald's brilliant architect, Owen Seymour, managed to capture some of the worlds magic, to harvest it and utilize it's growth within a contained space. We all marveled at this, at its first occurrence. Magic was so hard to grasp. Before Emerald, it had seemed impossible. But Seymour had done it. Still, he had succeeded in keeping the process as to how he did it a mystery. Even to his sister, my mother. Even to his immediate family, to his own wife and son.

            But even the great Owen Seymour did not know how to control the curse of the dust, some say he didn’t even search for the cure for the detrimental effects of the dust. Even though his sister, my mother, was dying.

            My mother was now sick, she had exited the Emerald's inner sanctum, and was now suffering the consequences of the poisonous outer atmosphere. Thus was the risk posed to all who ventured out of our Emerald. For those who stayed inside the Emeralds grand sanctuary, all was well. This was a harsh promise, Emerald was in itself hard to access. The magic residing within did all it could to eradicate foreign contaminants. My mother, even though she was related to someone with as much access to the Emerald as was my father, could not gain entry into the city until she was infected. We pray often for her.

            I found myself confined within my room, in the Castle. Luthor, we called it. Luthor Castle. Outsiders call us the Sky Castle. Sky Castle because we were placed atop the Luthor Mountain range. Mist used to culminate at the base of these mountains, giving it the appearance that it wasn't actually based on the wide sweeps of land below it. Of course it was, any thought otherwise would be ridiculous.

            And so, from my palace in the sky, I watched as the amber dust of the valley consumed the world, choking the magic not strong enough to fight it off. I have lived so all my life. All that I have to look forward to is peace and prosperity brought to me safely under the Emerald.

            That's not entirely what I had in mind.

            Sighing, I resumed my perched on my bedroom veranda overlooking the city. I was constantly venturing to the window, only to be greeted by the fresh colorful sights and sounds I had become so familiar with since childhood. Everything was illuminated by an artificial green light coming from the Emerald Dome, the force-field protecting us from the terrible dust. My sighing led from an unsatisfactory thought. I was confined to my room by my own choice, but under the great dome of the Emerald I had to live forever. And I wanted out.

            This was the fault of my bloodline. My mother had wanted out too, and now she was dying because of it. I sat in my quiet living space waiting for word of her death. I knew it would come soon, and I was preparing myself.

            No one knew exactly why the dust in the outer atmosphere harnessed such a deadly result, we had all presumed it simply was the dust of the dead, and so it carried death. Not extraordinarily scientific, nevertheless, that was the legend. We all knew the real process, that as the dust infiltrated the lungs and throat of a human body, it would cement itself there. Slowly it reproduced itself, the dust eventually clotted the airway and suffocated its victims. Thank the Heavens it wasn't contagious once it began thriving in a living human being, otherwise we'd all be hosts to the dust. The dust would harden in those it killed, and would become none threatening. Sadly, we had yet to figure out how to permanently remove it from the human system once it had entered. This was our misfortune, and as a result only handful of mankind existed. We were a dying breed.

I, like my father before me, refused to acknowledge this.

            I started as a knock at the door tore me out of my thoughts, my jaw unlocking in some sort of questioning expression as a maid walked in. She had nothing for me, only news that my mothers condition grew steadily worse, and some blankets to ward off the cold, looming night that not even the green glowing dome of the Emerald could conceal. I nodded my thanks as she shuffled silently out the door.

            “I don't want her to die,” my whispered thought as the door slid shut, fating me once again to my solitary meditation. Brows furrowed as the tears begin to trickle slowly down my face. I was supposed to be strong, a rock for others to look up to. I wasn’t supposed to cry. Yet, after all this time, all this quiet preparation I had allowed myself, I still wasn't ready.

            Slowly I made my way to the window, glancing at the portraits of my past life. All my family. My friends. Half of them were gone, consumed by the lonesome gloom cast by the Emerald City. And now, now I felt myself falling into it, it was sucking me in, tugging on the threads barely connecting me to this life.

            And then I found myself standing on the terrace outside my window. Bravery wasn’t even questioned. I was tired, and I wanted out. Only the tiny tugging sensation that this wasn’t the right thing to do interfered. It was very tiny. I raised my foot, stretching it out into the open air two stories above the sickly green paved streets, and took a step forward…

Reviews

[EMF]

A facinating story and a glimpse at a complex dystopia that draws you in. You paint the world in just a few words, but that world stays in your mind for a long time. Coupled with this is a facinating story. If there were typo's or grammatical eoors I didn't notice. I was too drawin into the world and story.

[darkgurl]

Wonderful detail and Imagery. Amazing write you ran with an idea and carried it out. I like your story.

[Walkingblind]

I admire writers who can accuratly carry out a good plot in a short story, this is really brilliant and well written. I enjoyed the visuals and emotions imparted in this story. Great read.

[Miss Coral]

...Not what I expected. At all.
Throughout the entire piece, I was thinking, "Oh, if she spread this out a bit more, it would be such a great first chapter for a book! I wonder how she resolves it in a short story, when she's created this much of a world for us?"
Well. That most definitely answers that question. I don't think there's much room for a book there. :)
I thought this piece was great.. it had your trademark excellence in description, and was interesting from the very beginning. Great consistency in tone and story. Very well done. :)