The Tale of Abigail
The woman glides confidently onto the deck of the ship, her cape flowing behind her. Abigail watches her wistfully, wishing that she was as fearless.
Suddenly, someone knocks her out of the long line. "Hey!" Abigail shouts, her face flushed with anger. However, no one hears her over the buzz of the passengers.
Abigail stands up, and, making sure that no one is looking, runs onto the ship, flashing a piece of paper to a bemused ticket collector. She looks around for the woman with the cape, feeling compelled to talk to her...to speak with her.
And then she does. She spots the woman standing on the deck of the ship, surveying the people below with a cold expression. Abigail cannot help but feel cowed, but she continues on anyway.
She runs toward the woman, panting, and then straightens herself. "My name is Abigail," she says, surprised to find her voice clear and strong.
The woman looks at her coldly, and then speaks with a raspy, husky, voice. "And what are you doing, speaking to me?"
"Well, I..." Abigail trails off. "I'm boarding on the ship...I have to go to Maraj City to find my mother because..." She falls silent, thinking it wise not to talk about the telephone call. "My mother's name is Rosalia." She says randomly, feeling the prickles of humiliation poking her in the back.
The response that the woman gives is entirely unexpected. Her eyes widen, and she gasps, her sharp teeth glinting in the sun. "Rosalia Vandelson...?" She asks, and her eyes narrow in anger. She turns her head toward Abigail. "Maraj City, you say?"
Abigail steps back, surprised. How did this woman know her mother's surname?
"Y-yes."
"Take me to her." She says. The command in it is unmistakable.
Suddenly, someone knocks her out of the long line. "Hey!" Abigail shouts, her face flushed with anger. However, no one hears her over the buzz of the passengers.
Abigail stands up, and, making sure that no one is looking, runs onto the ship, flashing a piece of paper to a bemused ticket collector. She looks around for the woman with the cape, feeling compelled to talk to her...to speak with her.
And then she does. She spots the woman standing on the deck of the ship, surveying the people below with a cold expression. Abigail cannot help but feel cowed, but she continues on anyway.
She runs toward the woman, panting, and then straightens herself. "My name is Abigail," she says, surprised to find her voice clear and strong.
The woman looks at her coldly, and then speaks with a raspy, husky, voice. "And what are you doing, speaking to me?"
"Well, I..." Abigail trails off. "I'm boarding on the ship...I have to go to Maraj City to find my mother because..." She falls silent, thinking it wise not to talk about the telephone call. "My mother's name is Rosalia." She says randomly, feeling the prickles of humiliation poking her in the back.
The response that the woman gives is entirely unexpected. Her eyes widen, and she gasps, her sharp teeth glinting in the sun. "Rosalia Vandelson...?" She asks, and her eyes narrow in anger. She turns her head toward Abigail. "Maraj City, you say?"
Abigail steps back, surprised. How did this woman know her mother's surname?
"Y-yes."
"Take me to her." She says. The command in it is unmistakable.