Kenku, Notebook

  I stared at the people chanting and cheering as their leader disappeared backstage, before eventually dispersing themselves.’

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  ??? (Girl?)

  The girl closed the book, tucking it under her pillow. “Girl. That ball, get ready for it.” A woman yells from outside her door. She sighs. “Yes Madam Taresia.” She says, tugging at sleeves that hide what she has. Pulling them up a little, she traces the black ink lines, etched into her tan skin, flowing down her arms like water, beautiful and eternally flowing.

  She knows she must go, however, and lets the constrictive white sleeves, thick to hide the black, fall back to its place. Standing up, her gown flows around her. She glares at it, hating the corset, hating the cage that was placed around her legs. She hated all of it.

  One last longing glance is thrown to the book, hidden under her pillow like it was never there. “Null, huh? That's what they called us years ago.” A heaving breath, gathering all the skirt layers, and she starts to walk.

  A log winding hallway in front of her, to one side a beautiful view over a seemingly green and peaceful place. People, small from up here, chatted away, moving as necessary to get where they needed to be. She felt like she was high up, and yet the smallest bug at the same time. She was known as ‘Girl.’ Nothing less, nothing more. And she had no power. Except one. Her humanity. And that was what she was. A spectacle. A museum show. A human.

  That book. She has read it thousands and thousands of times, every time a new word engraving itself into her brain, the whole of the sentences becoming memorised and remembered.

  And yet, that book is her salvation, despite knowing every sentence, it was as if new words appeared on the page every time her eyes scan the page, and she looks. Again, and again. It was addicting to read something like that. The genuine emotions that seem to resonate with her through the page, seep through paper of years and find their way into her. She never could look away from it. And that's why she took it years ago, as a child.

  Her eyes lay upon the door, big and gaping as it seems to swallow up her attention, making her just eager to see behind it, despite her previous reservations and fears. It scares her, terrifies her and yet it beseeches her to open it. Swirling in a confusion, it wants for her hand to push, and for her to reveal herself to the crowd one more time.

  And so, she does. Her hand presses against the metal, and it opens, squeaking despite its new look.

  The cheers rise up like hot air, bellowing into the wind, and rushing to her all in one moment. It's shocking, electrifying as no words are exchanged before the powerful and the weak one that stands above them.

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  She bows, and the noise escalates to its peak, before quietening. Stepping down the winding stairs, every single lowering of her body seems to spark on her nerves, everything alight with fear and her hands grasping her ballgown, careful not to step on her many layers of fabric that wrap around her and constrict her movement. It's painfully slow to descend, and her feet at some points wobble precariously as high heels restrict her mobility.

  It was like a brittle wire of actions. Should she mess up her descent, she would be outcasted and looked upon as useless, a burden upon this society, since she was merely human, and that grand entrance would be for nought. Should she succeed though and look too proud, they would think her haughty, as the only human left in this town.

  And so she walked, head down, quiet and yet also stable, someone who would be demanding of a little looks.

  She didn’t know how she did it, and maybe she thought she would mess up, but she did not. She managed to win, triumphing over her seeming captors that kept her trapped in a cage. She had successfully overcome this challenge, and now was the grand finale.

  Her foot graced the wooden planks of floorboards, and the people paved a way to where she would go. Her captor, the man of highest respect. The Mayor.

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  Kenku, Notebook

  ‘The roaches slunk away into the darkness, the message over and the Puppeteer himself gone. His speech held heavy in my mind. He had found a tunnel. I thought it over, back then, but now that I think on it, I should've just taken action immediately. That should’ve happened. But I was dumb, I still am. Maybe I am even more of a fool, playing to his fiddle.

  I shouldn’t take these things to heart, his words, his voice and his confidence in how he says this revolution will fail. But I cannot help it, I simply cannot help how a butterfly is still admirable to a rat, despite being worlds apart in an environment.

  ‘The world is something I fear, sometimes, will eventually swallow us up, Kenku. I fear we will be relics of a forgotten age, no longer the normal in time. Why? Well, magic is becoming the new world, and we humans, true humans are simply those who no longer are needed. The Puppeteer may be the one who led his people into this era in the first place, but I am the one who will let them out of it, and free them from the curse the magic will be.’

  My mind flashed back to him, and how he would talk about this world, like magic was a plague to be eradicated, unnatural and ill for this world. But it reminded me of something I had seen as a child.

  Though this book is my story, I suppose I should tell you a bit about my past. After all what's a villain without a backstory? I started on the streets, that's my first memory, but what I also remembered, was how kids would come to me, seeing me as just another one of them.

  They didn’t see my magic at that time in their lives, they didn’t know any different. In fact, some thought of me as a friend, even while their parents yelled at them to never talk to me again.

  The new people can change, if they are given the chance and influence from others. The world will change. I hope so. But somehow, I don't think it will quite yet. It's been a thousand years too soon.