The Chessboard Undead Prince

Chapter the Tenth

Not all stories were taken by Time. Or her father.

Her mother had loved telling her stories of magical faraway places.

Melia had noted after that day her husband had raged at her for telling Ellius magic stories, the tide had turned. He grew broody, foul, and sour, stripping Ellius of all things. Little Ellius' lessons were taught by Madame Orlinda and Melia had been ordered to court. That night Melia had taken a candle and snuck out of her bedchambers through a labyrinth of staircases and passageways to the Royal Library. There, she slipped inside and took all the books of magic and nursery rhythms to her tea room.

By the light of the moon, Melia had written word for word from the books. It had taken many a sleepless night but by the end of three new moons, copies of the books had been finished, and she gave them to Ellius on the day she was ten years old. Ellius could read secretly whatever story she wanted, and no one could stop her.

Outside the palace, the Clock of Estela rung at twelve. Midnight and all was well. As the palace slumbered under the watchful gaze of the moon, Ellius lit a candelabrum and took it on a short journey, her bare toes padding over the crystal floor. Her tea room was lined with bookshelves. Towering rows of books stared down at her as they held themselves high. Traditions. Tea. The Suits of Cards. Croquet. Blah blah blah and so on and so forth! Ellius yawned. So often she dropped dead asleep with boredom from Madame Orlinda's ramblings about the court and cards.

"The Suit of Cards proves the strength of our Bloodline. The Hearts for the King. The Knights of Hearts guards our lives. The Diamonds are your lords and ladies. No one becomes higher than a Diamond. Clubs are the common folk. Spades is the lowest suit. The Black Ace of Spades keeps the peace over the lowbred." Yaaawn.

She set her candelabrum on the pedestal of the bookshelves' side table and pressed down on the weighted pedestal.

Pop!

A small hatch opened and she pulled out a cube that had been carved into the shelves. She took out the three books and slid the cube back. Taking the candelabrum in one hand and books in the other, she tiptoed out. Ellius spread the books on her bed. Shadows danced around her as she cracked open the cowhide-bound tomes, their pages whispering secrets long kept from prying eyes were: Poems, Nightmares and Rhymes; The Story of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland; and The Denizens of Wonderland.

None of them were for the eyes of educated, stuffy librarians. The first book, "Poems, Nightmares and Rhymes," seemed to pulse with an otherworldly energy as Ellius traced her fingers over the rough leather cover. Each page held tales of dark creatures lurking in the corners of dreams, whispered fears given form in haunting verse. She shuddered as she read of the Jabberwocky, its monstrous form leaping from the page with each syllable, threatening to consume her with its ravenous maw.

Could you imagine the Jabberwocky?

The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,

Came whiffling through the Tugley Wood,

And burbled as it came!

Tales of the Jabberwocky had been told from Creation. Tales were told to children at firelight to frighten them into good behaviour or the Jabberwocky would come from the sky and rip them from their beds and eat them alive. Poems had been written about the legendary monster who had reigned over Wonderland.  A monster that men feared. A monster that would grind your bones to dust in its mouth. A monster that would freeze men's blood. Ganvsh, First King of Wonderland, had been vowed the title of King by the Three Sisters of Wonderland if he succeeded in slaying the Jabberwocky and bringing them its head on a pole. The nursery rhythm of the Red King was a known tale of old by the Story Keepers and one of Ellius' favourites. She remembered when she was three and her mother would sing about the mythical beast.