Beauty, Rebellion, and Magic

Chapter One: Fantasia

She awoke to bright sunlight assaulting her aching face.

Her eyes, nose, lips, and cheeks all throbbed under severe pressure. The rest of her body ached, too, but the pain paled in comparison to that of her head. Groaning, she attempted to open her eyes but aborted her effort when the sunlight pierced her pupils and sent her into another bout of gut-wrenching pain.

She racked her brain for any memory. Where was she? Who was she? Why was she here? And most of all, why did she hurt so much? But despite the beads of sweat that formed on her brow after the effort, she couldn't answer a single one of her questions.

She moaned again, louder this time, partly hoping someone would hear her, partly because she couldn't help herself. After a few moments, she heard a woman gasp, then the pattering of feet as a door was opened and the footsteps faded away. She lay there  in agony before she finally heard them return, this time accompanied by following footsteps. They stopped beside her bed while she waited patiently for them to do something.

"How are you feeling?" A male voice asked tentatively. She moaned in reply.

Reassured by the sound of her voice, as if he hadn't expected her to actually be conscious, he muttered something under his breath. There was the sound of a basket opening and a hand scuffling around in the contents before withdrawing. She felt something hard and cool press against her throbbing lips.

"Drink this," the same voice as before said. He tilted the vial and a heavy, sweet liquid ran into her mouth. She swallowed with difficulty, then the man poured more in. Once she had drank enough, she let her body relax again with a sigh.

"This will help you return to sleep, until you're strong enough to deal with your injuries."

She only had a few moments to wonder what exactly he meant before exhaustion overtook her.

She awoke again, feeling relatively better than she had before. The curtains had been drawn closed before the window, or perhaps it was night, for no sunlight was shining on her face. She opened her eyes and found she was in a half-moon shaped room, lit by dull torches lining the walls. She tested her luck and gazed into the flames of one of the torches, regretting her decision as, once again, a splitting pain flooded her mind. It wasn't as painful as it had been before, but still hurt enough to make her wince. She opened her eyes again and looked about the room, avoiding looking at the torches.

She was in a bed at the top-most curve of the half-circle, the foot of the bed pointed toward the flat end of the room. In a straight line across from her, a heavy-looking wooden door was set into the wall, reinforced by what looked like strips of iron plating. Along the wall, in between the torches, hung tapestries and paintings, but the room was too dark for her to tell what they depicted. To her left was a large wardrobe and two chairs positioned around a circular table in front of a window, which in fact, did have its curtains drawn. To her right sat an oak desk and chair in front of yet another window with its curtains drawn. And on either side of the big wooden door were large bookcases with their shelves brimming with books. Despite this being the first time she had ever set eyes on the room, she felt drawn to it, as if it were a closely guarded secret only she knew.

She pulled the blankets off her legs and attempted to rise but a wave of nausea forced her back down. After a few moments of recovering, she found she could sit up in bed as long as she did so slowly. She called out timidly, hoping to gain someone's attention. Nothing happened. she called again, louder. Still, silence. She thought about trying to get up again, but was afraid to experience the pain that accompanied the action. She called once more, and gave up when her only reply was the flickering of the torches.

She sighed and lied her head back against the wall, which she soon found she couldn't do because of a large, painful knot on the back of her skull. Raising her head up again, she wondered if there was anything she could do without hurting, besides breathing and sitting up in bed. And those, too, proved to be strenuous.

She was just about to force herself to sit up when there was a knock on the door. It swung open and a small group of people entered the room. The first was a man dressed in a long, sagging, sweeping robe. The style of it suggested an air of importance for the wearer, but the design itself was simple and plain. The second to enter was a woman dressed from head to toe in velvety black, with the cuffs of her sleeves and sash around her waist shining with gold. She turned her attention to the last man to enter, who was doing so agonizingly slowly. She watched as he took one slow step after the other into the room, the whole time fixing her with his intimidating stare. Becoming uncomfortable, she looked back at the other two to avoid him.

"Er... hello."

The man in the sagging robe smiled before replying. She recognized his voice as the one who had given her the sweet potion to make her sleep. "Hello, Fantasia. Let me tell you, it's a great relief to see you awake and speaking."

So that was her name. She mouthed it a few times, liking the way it made her move her mouth. When she was through, she remembered that she still didn't have a single clue as to where she was. "So, where am I?" She asked.

"You don't recognize the room?"

Fantasia took in her surroundings again, feeling that slight twinge of familiarity. But other than that, she didn't recognize it. "Sadly, no, I don't." A look of concern passed over the man's face. He glanced at the other man before speaking.

"I was afraid this would happen." He took a few steps forward, sitting on the edge of the bed and clasping his hands together in his lap. Cracking another smile, he said, "My name is Phye, and I am the palace's physician. I will spare the gruesome details for your father," he motioned to the man, who was still staring fixedly, "but it seems you have lost your memory. Is that correct?"

"I- I think so." Fantasia stuttered. She forced herself to look into the eyes of the gazing man. This time, however, she thought she could see profound emotions behind his eyes. She didn't recognize him, and didn't even feel the twinge of familiarity like she did about the room. But Ishmael said she had lost her memory, and that this was her father, and she had no other choice but to believe him.

Phye nodded gravely. "Just so you have a bit of understanding, there was a tragic accident where you suffered a blow to the head. You were knocked into a coma, where you have been for a little over a month. In that time, your body has begun to heal, but at a slow pace, since you haven't been able to ingest much beyond liquids. We were worried you may never wake up, but here you are, conscious and already sitting up in bed. I expect you to make an almost full, if not complete, recovery."

She took her eyes off her father with an effort. "So I should be able to get my memory back?"

"That, I'm afraid, is not so assured. Memory loss cases are rare and the outcome seems to vary from case to case."

"Great."

"In the meantime, you will be focused on recovery. This, here," he gestured at the woman in black, "is Eve. Do you remember her?" Fantasia shook her head.

"She's been your attendant since you were born- seventeen years ago." Eve smiled and waved. "Now, I know food is probably the last thing on your mind, but it's paramount that we get solid, nutritious food in your system as soon as possible. While you eat, you can sit here and discuss things with your father. After, Eve will come and clean you up and I'll give you something to help you sleep again. By then, though, you'll most likely be exhausted and ready for it." He stood up, and he and Eve left the room. Her father sat down in Ishmael's place, sighing heavily and rubbing his eyes.

He turned and faced her. "So, where should I begin?"