The Daughter

The Daughter

I remembered every detail of the days before Mother had her wish, a wish that would lead me to a place and person that would change my life forever.

My mother and I were running through Delano Forest that surrounded the palace. It was a dark and dreary night. The sky was black without a single bright star to guide us. Although Mother had brought her wand, she did not use it. She held my hand tightly, the two of us running through the familiar forest without saying a single word. We were running away from Desdemona, the palace in which I had lived as long as I could remember, but never called it "home". I know "home" was someplace else, someplace warm and secure, the air filled with love and care. A gust of wind blew against us, pulling us back to Desdemona, but we kept going. Mother raised me by herself and taught me to be strong. It blew stronger and stronger, finally making us stop. Mother put her arms around me protectively, sensing that something was wrong. Something was going to happen soon.

Suddenly, a man with dark brown hair appeared between the trees walking slowly towards us calmly, as is it was a windless night. His clothes were all black, as black as the night sky. He looked superior and almost like a king, for he was. Lord of Desdemona, Lord of Delano Forest, Lord of the Basilisk River.

"No," my mother said quietly, her arms wrapped around me protectively. The man came closer.

"No," my mother repeated, a little louder this time. She held me even closer.

The man was only a few feet away from us when he stopped in his tracks. He looked from Mother to me, his eyes piercing through me, sending a shivery feeling down my spine. "Cho," he began, shaking his head with a wicked grin on his face, "Cho, Cho, Cho. I thought you knew better. After all these years you are still your stubborn self. You won't give in even if you have nothing except that girl of yours. You are foolish, Cho." He drew his wand out of midair and changed his face into the one that I had seen a few years ago. It was of a young man around Mother's age with jet-black hair that went everywhere and very beautiful big green eyes. Mine are a mixture of green and brown, mostly brown. "Spring bark," Mother would call it. When the Lord spoke again, his voice was also changed. "Cho, save Mai and yourself! Don't worry about me! Just go! Leave me to save yourself!"

A tear trickled down Mother's beautiful face.

"Mother?" I whispered, looking up at her. She kept her eyes peeled onto the Lord's transformed face.

"Cho, would you come back to Desdemona with me?" the Lord persuaded gently.

"Yes,"Â she replied, completely dazed.

"Mother? No, Mother! You can't go back there! We can't!" I want Mother to change her mind, to snap out of her trance. I know no good is to come of this if we were ever to return to Desdemona. We had tried to escape numerous times, but not once did we escape successfully.

"Come then," the Lord commanded. Mother stood and obeyed, leaving my side.

"No!"

She stood next to the Lord facing me. Her eyes showed no feelings. I hated that. It was the complete opposite of how she really is. Perhaps the Lord had put a spell on her, enabling Mother to know what was going on and only to listen to his commands. It was a simple obedience spell.

"Come, little Mai. Return to Desdemona with your dear Mother," he said sarcastically, knowing I would not go anywhere without Mother. He wiped away the tear on Mother's face with his hand, still in his transformed self. Â

"No! Mother, snap out of it!"

The Lord smiled to him, obviously pleased at his work. He took out his wand and waved it, causing his sleek brown hair that is neatly combed back to replace the messy black hair, and the green eyes changing back to its original grave-cold gray. He then flicked his wand towards Mother while mumbling a spell afterwards. Mother closed her eyes, and fell lightly into the Lord's arms. It was a sleeping spell. He grinned at me before disappearing just as suddenly as he had appeared, carrying Mother with him. After the departure of the Lord and Mother, the wind died down quickly.

I have no place to go. I turned towards the Basilisk River, looking toward the horizon. The sun was just beginning to set. Then, there it was. On the distant horizon there was an object. The silhouette was barely visible, due to the sun's strong rays. I shaded my eyes from the sun and squinted, hoping that the shape would become clearer. I finally gave up and sighed heavily, paying no mind to it, and began my long journey back to the palace.

~*~

"Welcome back, deary," Ms. Carolina chimed happily, a rather large lady, who is always cheerful, rain or shine. She neatly folded clean, powder-white towels into squares, stacking one on top of another.

"Hello, Ms. Carolina. Do you know where Mother is?"

"Why, yes, of course, deary. I'm afraid she's going to be out for a while." She lifted the stack of towels with a loud grunt, and wobbled towards the door. She put her weight on the left foot, and balanced the neat stack onto her waist. Then, with her right hand she reached for the doorknob. She cursed a little under her breath, and shifted her weight onto the other leg. Then, reached for the doorknob with her other hand. She then cursed some more. I walked over to the door and opened it for her. "Thank you, deary. Thank you," Ms. Carolina chirped, a little out of breath. I watched her walk down the corridor. She shifted her weight onto one leg again, preparing to open another door.

I turned to walk towards Mother's room on the other end of the corridor. There was a shrill scream and footsteps pounding closer and closer. I whipped around quickly and saw Ms. Carolina on her behind with the clean towels that she had folded so neatly all around her. Someone snatched my arm and pulled me after him. It was moments before I realized who it was.

"Peter John Perryman, what do you think you're doing?"

"Nothing. Just saving you."

"Saving me from what?"

"Old Ms. Carolina."

"What?" I stopped running and he turned to face me. "You can be quite immature sometimes, Peter."

"Petey."

"What?"

"You promised to call me Petey. It's bad to break a promise, you know."

"When did I promise to call you Pete?"

"Petey."

"Whatever."

"Last night while you were asleep," he said annoyed.

"Give it up, Peter. I'm not going to call you Petey." I turned around to walk back to Ms. Carolina.

"Wait."

I whirled around to face him. His smile was replaced by a serious frown. "You want to know what today's big news are?" I looked into his eyes, searching if he was telling the truth or it was yet another one of his pranks. I sighed, still unsure if he's up to no good again. Peter is quiet a liar, and he can definitely fool anyone.

"Okay. Fine. Tell me what the big news are."

He put on his mischievous grin faster than you could say his name. "Not until you give me a little sugar."

"Peter! Just get down to it, and stop hitting on me!" I cried angrily. He had been trying to make me like him ever since he came to the palace two years ago, a plan that doesn't seem to be working at all. He isn't actually bad looking: pale, silvery strands of hair with a mix of golden-yellow, and summer sky blue eyes. He is a good head taller than me, since he's a year older. He does all the manly things around the palace, lifting heavy things, moving furniture, mending broken items, and has grown quite muscular and strong. His skin is tanned from the sun, and he has some freckles across his nose.

Peter led me out of Desdemona, and through Delano Forest. Just sitting on the side of the land was a boat tied to a sack of flour beside the bank. The boat rocked smoothly as the waves hit its sides. Peter walked closer to the boat to examine it, but the sound of a door opening made him stop.

"Mai, get behind that bush," he ordered quietly, as he crept beside me. I did what I was told.

Just as we got safely hidden behind the bush, a girl's commanding voice broke the silence. "Let go of me, you big dope! Put me down! I command you to put me down! Hello? What are you? Deaf? Can't you hear me? I told you to put me onto the ground! Hey! Where do you think you are carrying me off? Just put me down!" A big man, three times the size of Ms. Carolina, was carrying a redheaded girl of fourteen. The girl was pounding the giant's back with her fists, screaming and hollering her head off, but the man didn't seem to show any pain at all. Instead, he looked annoyed and depressed. The redhead kept on screaming the giant kept on walking with her over his shoulder.

"Psst. Mai," Peter kept his voice so low that I had trouble hearing him.

"Yeah?"

"You see that sack of flour behind you?"

I looked behind me, and seeing the bag I turned to face Peter and nodded, waiting for further instructions.

"Untie it from the boat, and then tie the boat to the tree."

I nodded again to let Peter know that I understood. Crawling to the boat and untying the rope was easy. Retrieving the sack to Peter without making a sound was the hard part. Peter took the sack of flour, and sprang from behind the bushel.

"Wha-" I didn't even get to finish asking what he was going to do. He swung the sack onto the giant's back of the head. The man's eyes grew to an abnormal size as he came tumbling down with his mouth wide open.

"Timber!" Peter yelled.

Boom! The whole ground shooked as the heavy man crashed, his face smacked into the dirt.

"Eat dirt! Ha ha!" Peter cried excitedly, jumping around the body, looking at his accomplishment.

I came out of my hiding place, and went to Peter's side. He was whooping happily, acting completely immature again. There was a small groan coming from the body.

"Peter!" I cried to my horror. "You forgot about the girl!"

I lifted one of the man's arms. There was the sight of a skinny pale-skinned arm under the massive mound of meat. I grabbed hold of it and pulled as hard as I could. I was out of breath when she came out from underneath.

"Thanks for nothing," I directed to Peter.

He replied by saying, "No problem," while wrapping up his victory dance.

The girl clutched her head and moaned, "What did you do that for? I nearly died from under this big knucklehead. What were you trying to do? Kill me?"

Peter's ears got redder than a tomato as he yelled, "Look! I saved you, you know. You could have gotten yourself eaten by whatever's in there if it weren't for me. Don't be a dope."

"Hey! Knucklehead!

"Beef brain!"

"Blonde!"

"Redhead!"

"Wait!" I said, ending their bickering. They both turned to me. "Listen."

We stood very still, afraid to make any noise. The large man beside us grunted as he came back to conscious.

"Oh, no. Run!" Peter commanded.

We took off running as fast as we could. If we were in the Olympics, we would've broken a record. We ran and ran until we were in my room. I slumped down onto the floor with my back against the wall, gasping for air. Nobody spoke until we tried to catch our breath. Peter kept his eyes on the red haired girl as her eyes roamed all over my room.

He was the first to speak. "You're a Weasley, aren't you?"

The girl looked at him, surprised. "Yes, I am."

"I thought so. Red hair freckles."

She blushed slightly. "I'm Monica." She extended her hand and after hesitating, Peter shooked it.

"Peter Perryman."

A hint of recognition flashed across her face.

"Aren't you the boy who went missing in you second year?"

"Hey! How did you know?"

"You were in Hogwarts and got accepted into Ravenclaw. I was in your class, remember?"

"No."

"Anyways," she turned to me.

"Oh. I'm sorry. I'm Mai," I smiled apologetically, shaking her hand.

"Mai," she repeated as if unsure of it. "You remind me of someone, someone that I know."

There was a silence between the three of us.

"So, which Weasley are you the kin of?" Peter butted in, obviously bored and wished to be the center of attention of two girls.

"Ronald Weasley from the Ministry and Hermione Granger, headmistress of Hogwarts." Monica said this in a matter-of-fact tone, as if it was information that you should have known. She turned to me again and asked, "Who's your mom? I wonder if I know her."

"Cho. Cho Chang."

"Well, that doesn't remind me of anyone that I know. Who's your father?"

"My father?" I echoed.

"Yes, your father."

The question made me feel uncomfortable. I felt cold deep inside as if my heart stopped beating. Through my head the question rang. Who is my father? I examined my hands. I guess Monica felt my uneasiness so she asked Peter, "How did you..."

For the rest of the day, the three of us stayed in my room telling each other stories and our childhood memories. I talked mostly about Desdemona and the rooms that I've discovered, and the unsuccessful escapes that Mother and I've shared. Monica told us of her family and friends at Hogwarts. She has three older brothers, two younger brothers, and a single sister who is four years older than she is. Peter told us mostly about all the pranks he'd played and who he'd played it on. It was as if we had known each other all our lives even though we've just met Monica a few moments ago. All my worries and problems melted away as I found the other side of me, the side where I could be happy and free.