Elle's Last Bow

Elle is dragged into a strange world when she hits the enter key. The Master wants her to marry the Third Sinner, but she must pass the Sin Quiz. However, once she does this, she has to marry the Fourth Sinner!

“Rise and shine, Elle,” said a rough, elderly voice.

 

Wha…what, where am I?” the thirteen-year-old girl wondered.  Her eyes opened gradually until she saw an old face peering down at her.  “Who are you?”

 

“What, young lady?  Gosh, that pome must’ve been made of strong spice to cause you to forget your Master.  Curse that Cordelia.”

 

Elle stared at the stranger blankly.  She didn’t have a master; she was no slave.  Furthermore, she lied in the twenty-first century, when the only slaves which existed were women and children put through human trafficking throes, or in video games.  Perhaps her mother had sold her in her sleep?  She hyperventilated for a moment before she realized the improbability of this.  Maybe it was the cursed enter key that got her into this mess.

 

The Master put a cold rag on Elle’s forehead.  They were in some kind of tent, which had a carnation pink hue.  “You have three days to get better, Elle, for the wedding takes place on Saturday.”

 

“Wedding?  What wedding?”

 

“Why, yours, to the Third Sinner.”

 

“But I’m only thirteen years old!  I can’t get married!”

 

“Yes you can, and will.  You have no choice.  The marriage was predetermined before you were born.  And besides, you’ve never shown any opposition before, so why start now?”

 

“But I was never here before.  Im just a girl from Jamaic, who goes to school, plays video games, and does other things.”

 

“What is Jamaica?”

 

“It is an island south of North America, in the Atlantic Ocean.”

 

“North America?  Atlantic Ocean?  Child, you have some imagination,” said the Master.

 

“But it’s a real place!” Elle whined.

 

“I hope your senses come back to you soon.  Before you know it, you’ll be saying you visited the fictional planet of Earth.”

 

“That is where I am from!” Elle exclaimed.

 

“Ha!  Now you’re just being silly.  Earth is a place invented in the mind of Desiderus Pythagorus in 48 L.I. for his novel, Bradwiste and Dung.  Certainly it became widely popular, and people saw Earth in your dreams, as you must’ve after being knocked out by that venomous apple.  Now, no more on the subject.  Rest, my child.”  

 

Elle closed her eyes and dreamt.  She saw her home in detail, the neglected homework that was due the following day, her cat Wren.  And on her bed she saw a giant grasshopper, shaking his head and saying, “You shall never come back, you shall never come back.”

 

She woke up in a cold sweat and complained to the Master about being stuck who-knows-where, desiring to be home.  She gave such descriptions of her home that he felt he had to admonish her.  “If you continue to babble this way, your husband will be obliged to send you to a psychiatry ward.”

 

This hushed Elle up, though she wanted to weep for what was lost.  But that would not accomplish anything, so she attempted to put on a straight face and play along with the Master’s game.

 

Two days later, the Master had left and two ladies-in-waiting were fitting her in a dress for the wedding.  Elle tried to keep her cool, but she broke down in tears.

 

“Why, whatever is the matter, dear?” asked one of the ladies-in-waiting.

 

Elle said something incomprehensible. 

 

The lady wiped her tears, then motioned for Elle to speak.

 

“I don’t want to marry the Third Sinner!” Elle bawled.

 

“But you must, dear.  It was prearranged at your first birthday.  A year from now you’ll be as happy as a jaybird.  Trust me.”

 

“Is there no way I can alter my destiny?  Make it where I don’t have to marry him?”

 

“No, there is no possible way,” said the first lady-in-waiting.

 

Elle’s face became glum and dejected, until the second lady-in-waiting could bear it no longer.  “Yes, there is one way you could eschew marriage to the Third Sinner.”

 

“Don’t tell her, Electra,” the first lady warned.  “You know how the Master hates  lies.”

 

“It’s not a lie, Gertrude.  If Elle truly dislikes the idea of becoming the Third Sinner’s wife, why shouldn’t she take the chance to escape it?”

 

“You will regret saying another word on the matter,” Gertrude admonished.

 

Electra ignored her.  “Elle, all you have to do is guess the vice the Third Sinner is guilty of correctly, and then you won’t have to marry him.”

 

“Really?”  Elle’s eyes lit up.

 

“Yes, indeed.  I’m sure the Master will allow you three conjectures—nothing less would be fair.”

 

Elle felt so joyous that there was a way out of her predicament.  Of course, she might not succeed, but she had hope that she would.

 

Three hours later, the Master appeared, wearing a grey robe.  “What?’ he queried, his eye flashing from Electra to Gertrude.  Why is Elle not dressed?

 

She decided to take the Sin Quiz,” answered Electra, speaking quite firmly.

 

But-b-b-but,” stammered the Master.  He stared coldly at Elle.  “She’s not in her right mind.  She’s under the influence of a poisonous pome she ate five days ago.”

 

“I’m sure that after a period of five days the effect would’ve warned off.  I’ve never known it to linger,” said Electra.

 

The Master was in a rage now.  “Before Elle took a bite out of that apple, she couldn’t take her mind off the imminent marriage.  She was madly in love with the idea of marrying the Third Sinner.  And now you tell me she’s over him all of a sudden?  Only the hazardous effects of venom could cause such an alteration of heart.”

 

“Or maybe,” said Electra, pushing back the glasses that were slipping off her nose, “you just can’t accept the fact that Elle has had time to think about her future lover’s character and discovered that he wasn’t fit for her.”

 

“The Third Sinner not fit for her!”  The Master’s nostrils flared.  “That’s preposterous—it’s she that is not fit for him!”

 

“Either way, Elle must have her opportunity to evade this marriage, said Gertrude.  In the three hours spent waiting for the Master to return, Electra had convinced her to help to fight for Elle’s position.  “And you must give her at least three conjectures, in order to be fair.”

 

“Fine!” shouted the Master in exasperation.  “She can take the Sin Quiz.  Maybe by the time she loses, her senses will have returned.  I will call the Third Sinner and have him meet us in the archery grounds, where I shall explain the rules to Elle.  Be there at two-thirty sharp, you three, or I will negate these charades and the wedding will be held tomorrow as formerly scheduled!”

 

The Master left the tent in a huff.  Gertrude and Electra cheered when they saw the back of him, and they dressed Elle in a pink kimono.  Her hair was plaited and sandals were put on her feet.  Then the ladies-in-waiting helped her stand up (they wouldn’t let her rise on her own), leading her out of the tent.

 

Elle glanced around her and saw that they were in a valley.  An inclined hill nearby portended doom.  The three ladies walked around this hill and came to a rocky pathway.  Elle became worried about her sockless feet.  But Gertrude and Electra showed her how to avoid cockleburs and armadillo shells.  After forty minutes of walking, Elle began to feel enervated, due to lassitude imposed on her the last couple of days.  The ladies-in-waiting let her rest for a moment on a makeshift bench formed from stones and abandoned tortoise shells.  Then they had to move on, for time was running out.  Finally, they arrived at the grove that served young men for archery practice.  But no archers were there now—only the Master and a youthful man with blond hair.

 

“Ah, I see you’ve made it,” the Master said, bitterly.  “Stop right there; step no further.”

 

Electra and Gertrude halted Elle about five yards away from the youth.  He flashed Elle a toothsome grin, which caused her to wrinkle her nose in disgust.

 

“Elle, you have opted to take the Sin Quiz.  Depite my misgivings, I must permit this because you desired it.  Now, here are the rules: You will be permitted three guesses on what vice the Third Sinner has committed to garner his title.  You will have one conjecture per day, as custom goes.  I will give you a hint which will narrow your selection down tremendously.  I do this out of the goodness of my heart,” the Master said, though his facial expression gave no sign of kindness, or even indifference.  The hint is that it is one of the Seven Deadly Sins.  You have five minutes to cogitate, and upon the end of that period, you will be required to give an answer, whether you have one ready or not.  The audience—including Gertrude, Electra, the Third Sinner, and myself—must engage in absolute silence during your ruminations.  Are you ready to begin?”

 

Elle nodded.

 

“All right then.”  The Master winded his watch.  “No noise from anyone.  Elle, you may begin.”

 

Elle stared at the Third Sinner’s grin.  He looked like a fellow who had fooled around with girls a lot.  Of course, that would make him guilty of lust.  But there were six other deadly sins, and she wanted to make a healthy, well-thought out guess.  So she thought of the others: sloth, greed, gluttony, apartheid.  Wait, apartheid wasn’t a deadly sin!  Oh, well…

 

She couldn’t come up with any more, so she went through those three.  The Third Sinner certainly wasn’t a glutton; otherwise he’d be obese rather than lanky.  Sloth was a possibility, but elle had never seen the Third Sinner before and appearance cant give you a good judgment of a person’s desire to work or lack thereof.  Finally, greed—he had not   

 

“Time is up!  Elle, you must give us your conjecture now.

 

“Lust?”

 

This caused the Third Sinner to fall on the ground and roll about, guffawing like a child of seven rather than a young adult of nineteen.  The Master also appeared to be cheerful, a rare sat—Elle had yet to know him when he wasn’t upset, angry, or just plain irritable. 

 

“My goodness, Elle, has no ever taught you not to judge a book by its cover?” the Master said.  “No, the Third Sinner is not guilty of lust, despite his looks.  Although Im sure he had lusted after you!”

 

Seeing the Master in mirthful glee made Elle feel uneasy.  Add to that the fact that she had to walk all the way back to the pink tent and return to this spot again tomorrow, it should be no surprise that she was a trifle rude to Gertrude and Electra.

 

Elle tossed and turned that night.  Her brain was focused on the idea that only two conjectures were left to her, and her fear of marrying the Third Sinner gave her nightmares.  She dreamt of a spider acting as the prisest at the inevitable wedding.  No one raised any hands when the spider asked if anyone in the audience (a bunch of faceless knaves and lasses) objected to the union.  Then when the arachnid said, You may now kiss the bride,” the Third Sinners face turned into that of a cockroach, and he said, “Come kiss your husband, dearie!

 

Elle woke up with sweat pouring down her face.  But it was so dark it the tent that she lay back down to try to ponder what the Third Sinner could be guilty of.

 

The next afternoon she found herself once again five yards from her future spouse.

 

“Welcome back, for your second attempt,” the Master said.  “But today, you will only have half the time you had yesterday.

 

“What?” Elle asked, in an angry tone.  “You said nothing about this before!”

 

“Whether I said it before or not is a moot point. The fact that you have two minutes, thirty seconds to make a decision will not change.  And your time starts now.”

 

Elle’s mind swam wildly.  She had already ruled out the four fatal sins she had thought of before.  There was the possibility gluttony was correct, but it did not comply with the Third Sinner’s paunch, making it a reverse book-cover assumption.  If only she could think of the other three…

 

They all bounded into her mind in a flash—wrath, envy, and pride.  She knew at once that pride was the vice this man had committed, for his demeanor and not his physique told her so.

 

“Time,” called the Master.  “Okay, Elle, give us your surmise.”

 

“Pride,” Elle said, more confidently than on the previous day.

 

“Good guess,” the Master frowned.

 

“You mean I got it right?” Elle squealed.

 

“No, it was incorrect.”

 

“Then why’d you say ‘good guess’?”

 

“I thought it might be droll to do so.  Now you only have one more conjecture, with a minute fifteen seconds to ruminate, tomorrow.  Go back to the tent with the ladies.”

 

Elle felt miserable.  She only had a twenty percent chance to get it right.  But which could it be?  Envy, perhaps.  Yet, what would the Third Sinner be envious of?  If it were a guy who won the girl of his dreams, he’d have no desire to make Elle his wife.  He could not want wealth, for he wore flashy clothes.  And what else was there to be jealous of?  Could greed be his sin?  She had counted it off before, but it wasn’t impossible.  What about sloth?  Surely the Third Sinner could be as lazy as a Snorlax.  Maybe that’s why he wanted her to marry him.

 

Elle fell asleep thinking: sloth, envy, wrath, greed, sloth greed, wrath, envy…

 

She got up at sunrise.  Then she decided to explore the tent.  The Master was snoring loudly in his cot; she tried to ignore the noise by thinking of “Pop Goes the Weasel.” 

 

Elle saw an umbrella, a dresser, and a stuffed, green chimpanzee.  She had never noticed the latter before because she had always been attended to or lost in thought anent the Sin Quiz.

 

Approaching the dresser, she froze when she heard the Master make a noise as if he were waking up.  When nothing happened, she continued her furtive trek to the dresser.  On its top were a box of matches and a hefty tome, The Big Book of Sins.  Thinking quickly, Elle grabbed this volume and put it under her pillow, for the Master was now slapping his face to become alert.  The noise she had heard three minutes earlier was a forewarning of this, but had she known for sure he was getting up, she might not have found the book.

 

The Master slipped a robe over his night clothes.  He poked Elle in the ribs, for she had feigned sleep in order that he would find no reason to accuse her when he discovered the missing book.

 

“The obnoxious ladies-in-waiting will be here in fifteen minutes,” he told Elle.  “And tomorrow, you’ll marry the Third Sinner.”

 

“But if I guess right today—“

 

“Oh, I highly doubt you will,” the Master said, glibly.  “You only have a thirty percent chance of being right.”

 

“Twenty percent.”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“There are five deadly sins I haven’t guessed yet.  One out of five is twenty percent.”

 

The Master grunted.  Then he said, “Say, how’d you get so intelligent all of a sudden?  You never were able to do simple math problems before, such as the sum of seven and nine and the quotient of fifty-four and six.  And now you’re suddenly able to correct my percent calculations?”

 

He eyed her suspiciously.  She merely shrugged, as if it were no big deal.  The Master then proceeded on his business, albeit wondering if a poisonous pome could give an unteachable child mathematical prowess.  He went to the dresser, and gave a cry like a gazelle that had just felt a lion raze its side, knowing the end was near.  “Where it is?  Where is it?” he asked, frantically.

 

Opening all the drawers to the dresser and shutting them immediately when he discovered they hid not contain his treasure, he grew more and more exasperated.  He checked under his cot, behind the green chimpanzee, and in the umbrella, though he knew it couldn’t fit there.  “It’s gone!”

 

Elle stared at him, slightly bemused.  “What’s gone, Master?”

 

“Nothing that concerns you,” he said, coldly.

 

At that moment, Gertrude and Electra ambled in.

 

“You two!” the Master exclaimed.  “Thieves!”

 

“What are you barking about, Egbert?” Electra asked.

 

“The Big Book of Sins!  It’s gone!”

 

“So?  That doesn’t make us thieves.”

 

“You two and the girl are the only ones who were in here since yesterday, and Elle could not have done it.  She can’t even read!”

 

Elle almost blurted out that she could read, but decided it’d be better not to.  Gertrude and Electra just shook their heads.

 

“No one was here yesterday from 1:35-3:30 P.M.  Someone might’ve entered the tent and stolen it then,” Gertrude said.

 

“Then you would be responsible for that, since you failed to lock the door.”

 

“This is a tent!  It has no door!” Electra exclaimed.

 

“Ooh, getting logical now, aren’t we?”  The Master pulled  a whistle out of his pocket, opened the tent flap, and blew on the whistle, producting a high, shrill sound.  At once a raven appeared.

 

“Fetch Oztaff!  Tell him it’s an emergency.”

 

The raven scuttled away to deliver the Master’s message.  Eleven minutes later, an ugly troll entered the tent.  It had a large red mole on its chin, hair like hay, and bulgy arms.

 

“Oztaff,” the Master said, “will guard this tent, making you sure you don’t steal anything else.”

 

The Master left.  Oztaff stared at the women, unblinkingly.

 

“How are we going to dress Elle with that brute watching?” Electra asked.

 

“We could pull the dress over her,” Gertrude suggested.

 

“No, that wouldn’t do.  We’ll just have to take her in her pajamas.”

 

“That’s ridiculous!  A lady cannot go outside in her pajamas!” Gertrude shouted.

 

“She can if the only option is to have her naked in front of a troll!” Electra retorted.

 

They finally agreed that Elle must go in her PJ’s.  Gertrude and Electra whiled away the hours by telling their charge stories that were common to that world.  Electra expressed utter shock when Elle told hershe had never heard of Mary Josephine and the Mystical Porpoise.

 

“You don’t know what happened when Joe Morcerf crossed the Pearl Sea to give Mary a diamond ring?”

 

Elle shook her head.

 

“My gosh, what has that old croney been teaching you all these years?  You never even heard the most basic children’s stories!”

 

“I’ve heard of Cinderella, Snow-White, Rapunzel, and Sleeping Beauty,” Elle told the ladies-in-waiting.

 

Gertrude crinkled her nose.  “Gosh, those must be foreign!  Why would Egbert read you stories from the Umtrash Frigate?”

 

“What is the Umtrash Frigate?”

 

“A collection of all the most common folktales and stories in foreign countries,” Electra answered.  “But it makes no sense that he would read to you from that book and not tell you what every child must know.  Your husband will think you an imbecile.”

 

“We’ll have to train you before your wedding, which will be in a few days, I wager,” Gertrude said.

 

“Don’t you have faith in me?  I could pass the Sin Quiz yet.”

 

“But, in case you don’t, we have to prep you for this marriage by telling you more stories you should know.”

 

So Elle listened to tales about Drigger-Don, a man who lived alone in the woods, eating fried hare and wildebeest, and Shaver Shrew, a spinster who found a magic lamp in her room and ordered the genie that lived within it to revive her lover, who had died nineteen years previously.

 

“Well, it’s 1:30,” Gertrude said, looking at her watch.  “Time to make sure we have everything before heading out.”  She frowned at Elle’s pajamas and the being who roced the girl to go outdoors in such an embarrassing state.

 

“May I take my pillow?” Elle queried.

 

“What do you want that old thing for?” Electra said.

 

“You’ll regret carrying that through al the distance we have to go,” Gertrude warned.

 

Nevertheless, Elle convinced them to le her take it.  At that moment, they heard the sky break outside and rain begin to fall.  Electra went to grab the umbrella and Elle took the opportunity to surreptitiously slip The Big Book of Sins in her pillowcase.

 

Oztaff became frantic when Electra got hold of the bumbershoot.  He ran over to bit her finger to prevent her from theft.  But Gertrude approached, slamming her valise on the back of Oztaff’s head, causing him to see her as an antagonist.  He chose to bite her instead, but Electra lifted the umbrella and swung hard at his chest.  Oztaff fell prone on the ground, unconscious.

 

Electra unclasped the umbrella and they exited the tent..  The rainstorm continued for minutes, with peals of thunder breaking out now and then, along with flashes of lightning.  When it ended, they had nearly reached the archery grounds.  They took a short respite, during which the ladies-in-waiting were silent and Elle finally had a chance to think.  And as she thought, she realized a truth that must be: the Third Sinner was really guilty of none of the deadly vices!  The Master had rigged the Sin Quiz so that no matter what she conjectured, she’d be coerced into this marriage!

 

This theory coincided with the Master’s temperament towards her, and his doubt of her reason.  He had no idea she could read and before today had believed she was incapable of dealing with mathematics.  There’d be no possible way for her to detect a lie, or so he thought.  But she had figured him out.

 

Could the volume she took without his permission help?  Perhaps, but she’d only have a minute, fifteen seconds to peruse it, which was no time at all.

 

“Come on,” Electra said.  “We have to arrive by 2:30 or our game is up.”

 

But when they reached the archery grounds, with only a minute to spare, the Master and the Third Sinner were not present.

 

Five minutes elapsed before those two showed up.  They were weary from running, having to take shelter from the rain at a cottage a half-mile off.

 

“We thought you wouldn’t make it,” said the Master.  Then his eyes flashed to the umbrella in Gertrude’s hands.  “So, continuing to steal from me, aren’t you?  Did Oztaff leave you alone for a moment?  He’ll pay dearly if he did.”

 

“No, Oztaff did not leave us alone.  And I have reason to believe you hid the missing book somewhere, accusing us of thievery for the sole purpose of preventing us from coming!” Electra shouted, vehemently.

 

“Why would I do a thing like that?”

 

“To ensure that Elle had no way out of marrying the Third Sinner.”

 

The Master showed his teeth in a grin which gave evidence to the face that he believed Elle had no possible way out of this, no matter what she guessed.  “Okay, Elle, to your position.  You only have a minute , fifteen seconds.  Your time starts—say, why do you have your pillow with you?”

 

“It’s not against the rules, is it?”

 

“No, I suppose not.”  He said nothing about her pajamas.  “Well, time starts now!”

 

Elle quickly threw her pillow on the muddy ground, and sat down Indian-style.  She had the big volume out.

 

“What are you doing with that?” the Master’s voice boomed.  He stepped toward her to snatch it out of her hands.

 

“Quiet!” the Third Sinner shouted, the first word Elle heard him speak.  He help up his hand, from which yellow-orange sparks flew, hitting the Master squarely in the chest and causing him to freeze in place.  Only his ears could acknowledge anything, for his eyes lay unseeing and his mouth mute.

 

Elle turned to the volume on her lap, flipping to a random page.  She put her finger halfway down the recto and it landed on “nepotism,” which was described as “a predilection for giving a position or occupation to a relative solely because of familial relation to you and not based on merit.”  She knew that wouldn’t be what the Third Sinner had committed.  Flipping to other pages she found “sodomy,” “iniquity,” and “treason.”  Then, with only twelve seconds remaining, she hit the D section and saw a word highlighted.  In pencil above it, there was a tiny inscription, “The 3^rd Sinner’s vice.”  Elle could hardly keep her excitement silent.  Then the Third Sinner announced that her time had ended.  “Make your last guess, future wife.”

 

“Debauchery,” Elle said.  The Third Sinner wasn’t able to miss the confidence in her voice.  He held his hand up, sending sparks at the Master again.  Bent on his knees, he beat his fists in fury.  He had lost his bride.

 

Gertrude and Electra were staring at Elle in shock.  Debauchery wasn’t one of the seven deadly sins.  Wasn’t she attempting to eschew marriage to the Third Sinner, or had she been pulling their legs all along?

 

The Master, once he had ahaken off the effects of the Third Sinner’s spell, glared at the thirteen-year-old.  “How dare you steal from me!  Not to mention cheating on a quiz.  Elle, though you guessed it right, you used illicit sources, and thus your victory is void.  You still must marry the Third Sinner.”

 

“Egbert, are you saying she answered correctly?” Gertrude inquired.

 

“Yes, but she used a stolen book to find the information.”

 

“Erm, Egbert,” said Electra, feigning tentativeness, “it seems a little funny that you told Elle the Third Sinner had committed one of the seven deadly sins.  If I remember correctly, debauchery is not one of them.  I wonder what the Forest Inquisitor would say if I told him you lied to your tenant in order that you might prevent her from passing a Sin Quiz, hmm?”

 

“You wouldn’t want to do that,” the Master said hastily, sweat appearing on his brow.

 

“Then you can’t allow Elle to become the Third Sinner’s wife.”

 

The Master acquiesced to this, though he beat Elle for twenty minutes when they were alone in the tent.  “Cheater!  Miserable wench!  Where did you learn to read?  From those mendacious ladies-in-waiting?  No, that makes no sense—no girls except princesses know how to read.  Did some wood-rat sneak in here and teach you your letters?  Stop crying!” he shouted, as tears ran down Elle’s cheeks.  “Do you realize the position you put me in?  You’re such a dishonest, hoodwinking wench!”  

 

This verbal abuse added insult to injury.  Finally the Master stopped harming Elle and went to sleep.

 

Three days later he had calmed down at last.  Elle was relieved, until he told her why.

 

“You’re going to marry the Fourth Sinner.”

 

“What?”

 

“It’s all been arranged.  The Fourth Sinner needs a bride, and you fit the ticket.”

 

“But I thought getting out of marriage to the Third Sinner would save me.”

 

“Well, it hasn’t, wench!”

 

“Is there any way out of it?” Elle asked.

 

“Ah, but I’m sure you won’t want out of it once you’ve seen how handsome your husband is.”

 

The next day, the Fourth Sinner showed up.  He sat in a contraption that reminded Elle of a lawn chair.  It was an awkward meeting, for Elle had her blanket around her since the Master had banned the ladies-in-waiting from coming to dress her.  The Fourth Sinner had a goatee, clean white teeth, and a nice-looking face.  His manners and mannerisms were impeccable.  Yet Elle did not want to marry him, and she remained adamant about this.  In the week ensuing this meeting, she screamed and cursed and made a general nuisance of herself, till at last the Master told her there was one way to break off the marriage with the Fourth Sinner.

 

“Another Sin Quiz?” Elle asked.

 

“No, not at all.  You have to shoot an arrow at him while he has an apple on his head.”

 

“Sounds like William Tell.  So I have to get the apple off his head with the arrow?”

 

“No, you have to miss the apple.”

 

Elle thought to herself, “Piece of cake.”

 

On an appointed day, Oztaff’s wife came to dress Elle in appropriate garments.  She was even uglier than her husband, but thank goodness she didn’t speak—otherwise, Elle feared, a noise as appalling as fingernails brushing across a chalkboard would be the result.

 

Once dressed, Elle was led to the archery grounds.  None of her training on Earth had taught her how to shoot an arrow, but luckily all she had to do was miss the apple and hit the Fourth Sinner.  Some attendant of the Master’s (who had three arms) handed Elle a single arrow.  Her groom stood four yards away.  She struggled to get the heavy bow steady, but at last she managed it.  The arrow was easier.  She aimed for the Fourth Sinner’s chest and released.  The arrow flew magnificently and was just ready to lodge itself in his heart when it vanished.  It had appeared again in Elle’s right hand.  She saw it there, startled.  Then the Master spoke.

 

“Oh, darling Elle, did I forget to mention that you have to aim for the apple and miss, in order to eschew becoming the spouse of this handsome fellow?  Excuse me for this oversight.”

 

Elle scowled at the Master, who wore a smug expression on his face.  She raised her bow again, this time aiming for the apple, though a fraction of an inch lower.  The arrow whizzed off and almost seemed to knock into the pate of the Fourth Sinnner.  But once again it vanished and reappeared in Elle’s arm.

 

Now she was furious with the Master and wanted to stamp and neigh and bark and roar and grunt in frustration.  But she refrained from this inhuman display and positioned the arrow in a perfect line in which it would not be possible to miss the apple.  She pulled back the bowstring as far as she could and let go.  With a loud plop! the arrow made contact with the apple, to cheers from the spectators, which annoyed Elle.

 

“Why are you all so happy?  Now I have no choice but to marry the Fourth Sinner.”

 

“Aye, you do!” a sartyr exclaimed.

 

“Enjoy your spouse; he’s a fine catch!” a nymph whisphered in Elle’s ear.

 

Dryads and naiads and sprites and other creatures danced around Elle, singing and laughing and making merry.  Her head swam with mingled feelings of maddening fury and soothing calmness.  She understood not where these fairy tale creatures came from.  And as they frolicked and cavorted about her, she began to be overcome with vertigo.  Elle fainted.

 

When she regained consciousness, she was inside the Master’s tent.  He greeted her with the news that the wedding would be the next day.  Then he fed her a bowl of porridge.  She wanted to fling the bowl across the tent, but knowing that she’d get nothing else to eat, she refrained.

 

After dinner, the Master studied some scrolls in his corner, giving Elle time to think.  This was good, for it permitted her to come up with a plan for evading marriage.  And suddenly she had it.  If only it would work…

 

Oztaff’s wife dressed Elle up the ensuing morning.  Once she herself clothed in an oblong mirror, panic overtook her.  What if her plan failed?  Then she’d be stuck as the Fourth Sinner’s wife for the rest of her life.  She prayed it wouldn’t come to that.  But if it did, she’d have no power to stop it.

 

The troll women led Elle to the outdoor wedding venue.  There was an arch made of horticulture, under the bride and groom would say their vows.  The guests sat on plastic red chairs.  Elle saw Gartrude and Electra sitting and waving at her.  The Master scowled at them, but he couldn’t turn them out.  And when Elle was standing under the arch, a wedding song in that strange world played, a song which irritated Elle.  But thankfully it wasn’t too long.

 

The priest stood under the arch and began, “Dearly behated, we are clustered here today to witness the union of two horrible people.  May their names be damned and blasphemed through the streets!  If anyone has any reason why these two monstrous demons should not be married, speak now or forever hold your war.”

 

No one made a noise, except for somebody in the back row who sneezed.  Then the priest moved on.  “Do you, Fourth Sinner, take Elle to be your awfully wedded wife, to chafe and to scold, to hate and to berate, in illness and in calamity, so long as you both ashall be keepers of your minds?”

 

“I do,” said the Fourth Sinner, grinning at Elle.

 

“And do you, Elle, take the Fourth Sinner to be your awfully wedded husband, to chafe and to scold, to hate and to berate, in illness and in calamity, so long as you both shall be keepers of your minds?”

 

“I don’t,” Elle said firmly.

 

“Then, I now denounce you…huh, what did you say?”

 

“I will not marry him.”

 

The Fourth Sinner whispered in the priest’s ear.  “Ah,” said the holy man.  “It seems you have no choice.  So, as I was saying, I now denounce you hus—“

 

“I DO HAVE A CHOICE!” Elle bellowed at the top of her lungs.

 

Everyone gawked at her.  They had never seen a woman with such a powerful will before.  All the females in that world succumbed to their fate without question; uxorious husbands could not even exist there, because wives were so submissive, never demanding.

 

Elle needed a drink of water due to her voice being hoarse after yelling.  A lizard biped fetched it for her; the other people couldn’t savvy what she needed.  Once her throat became moise again, she was able to speak.

 

“The Fourth Sinner cannot force me to marry him because he doesn’t know my full name,” Elle said loudly and clearly so that everyone present would hear.

 

The audience was in shock.  Most of them were not familiar with this law, but the ones who were nodded their heads.  Elle had discovered it in The Big Book of Sins—near the nepotism entry was something called naseeloteering, which meant marrying someone without knowing their whole name.  Elle had found her ticket to safety.

 

In anger the Fourth Sinner strode over to where the Master was sitting in the front row.  “What is her full name?” he demanded.

 

Elle felt a rush of fear go through her gut.  The Master would tell her prospective but undesired husband her named, and she’d be doomed forever.

 

“It’s—it’s Elleplenzia!” the Master exclaimed.

 

“Let’s start the vows over with ‘Elleplenzia’ in place of ‘Elle,’” the Fourth Sinner told the priest.

 

“No!  That’s incorrect,” Elle said happily.  The Master did not know her full name; otherwise he would have given it.  Thus, she’d be out of this marriage in no time.

 

“She’s lying!” the Master insisted.

 

“No, I’m not!”

 

“Are too!”

 

“Am not!”

 

These verbal exchanges were bandied back and forth for a moment before the priest yelled “Quiet!”

 

The audience turned its attention to him.

 

“How about we take a vote.  All who think Elle is lying about her full name, raise your hand.”  About half the audience did so.  “All who believe Elle is telling the truth, raise your hand.”  The other half made this belief acknowledged to the gathered company.  “Then I proclaim it a tie by approximation.”

 

A sartyr in the second row spoke up.  “I could count the exact figures, Mr. Priest, if we take the poll again.”

 

“No, that won’t be necessary.  We will assume Elle is telling the truth, but not without proof.”

 

“Force her to tell us what her full name is,” the master said, maliciously.

 

“I will not do that, Egbert Egbin.  Instead I will have Elle pick out someone in the audience she trusts, and whisper the full name in that person’s ear.  That person will acknowledge whether ‘Elleplenzia’ is correct or not.  Now—“

 

“How do we know that Elle will tell a person she trusts the truth?” the Fourth Sinner asked. 

 

“Just because the sin that earned you your title was betrayal, doesn’t mean Elle will act as you would.  And your question is a contradiction of Quirrel’s law, which never fails.  Now, Elle, select someone in the crowd upon whom you shall bestow the mantle of the secret that is your full name.”

 

Elle knew only two faces in the audience who could possibly fit the bill of trustworthy confidante, Gertrude or Electra.  And she preferred Electra because she had been the first to suggest the Sin Quiz and her staunchest defender against the Master’s schemes.

 

“I choose the lady-in-waiting Electra,” Elle announced.

 

Electra stepped forward brightly.  She would be given a secret to keep.  She loved secrets—collected them in a notebook.  The notebook was always kept under a welcome mat; no one ever thought to look there for valuables.

 

The priest stepped aside when Electra got to the front, and Elle stepped under the horticulture arch with her.  They needed to be a few yards away from those with hypersensitive hearing.

 

“My full name is Elleploria-kazame,” Elle told the lady-in-waiting.

 

Electra nodded.  They went back.

 

“Yes, her name is not Elleplenzia,” said Electra.

 

“What is it?” the Master asked.

 

“Egbert Egbin, I’m ashamed of you!” exclaimed the priest.  “If you’re not careful, you may become the Sixth Sinner.  No asking after that information.”

 

“Elle will marry the Fourth Sinner, one way or another,” the Master muttered.  His mind was whirring to the events of that evening, when he’d torture Elle until she gave him her name.

 

 

Author's Note

Not quite finished. Also, there will be a part two.

Reviews

[[~.*.~] Sherri Blossom ..]

Yaaaaay! You finally posted the story! And it's Elleploria-kazeme, not, Elleploria-kazame ^^

Let me just say that this story was quite entertaining, humorous, smartly detailed, weird, but great at the same time! The characters were interesting (especially me! xD) and the descriptions were amazing. There were some grammatical and spelling errors which can be solved with a quick proof read, but other than that, I really loved this Mane! :D Keep up the great work, I look forward to the next part!

♥ Sherrice

[Wolfwind Words]

Now that was a well thought out and funny story! I look forward to the next part.

Great job!

Maycroft