Where the name "Araeph" came from.
In recent days, the Sue-defenders have repeated the inaccurate charge that we exist to mock 12- and 13-year-olds for their writing. That accusation led me to think about my own writing past. What kind of writer was I at 12? Was I a Suethor? Was my writing purple, or filled with grammatical mistakes, or confusing? Would I have mocked my own writings from then at the age I am now? Well, everyone...let's find out!
Luckily, I've saved all of my stories on the computer, ever since I could write. I opened one, and realized that this was where I'd gotten my current username. Actually, the character based on that name has nothing to do with me, because she was never created as a character with whom readers were supposed to identify. I suppose I chose the name itself because it was unique.
Here, word for word, with no brushing-up or omissions, is Araeph's "Araeph" story from when she was twelve. Since this is publicly posted for all to see, you are free to comment on it however you like.
In all its vague glory, I present:
Martha, Twin Likeness
"It's almost finished."
Margaret peered sharply at the small rock which the child held in her hand. Brightly colored swirls decorated the smooth top and sides, outlined in black. Only the bottom remained to be done.
"The key word being almost," Margaret said finally. "It's beautiful, Sal." Sarah, who was ten, smiled broadly at her older cousin.
"Leave it on the window to dry more. The colors will need a little time to set in. You have quite a few chores to do also. You didn't sweep and you didn't dust. Not that I haven't neglected my chores, either," she added, softening her admonishment and smiling wryly.
Margaret glanced around at the small, one-room house where they lived. The field surrounding their house made it seem like a forsaken island, although they had many neighbors sharing the same patch of land. Inside, the house looked as forsaken as it seemed from the outside. It looked no different from any other house; yet there was something about the building that made it eerie and empty-feeling.
You could sometimes feel sharp cold in a warm summer breeze flowing through the house. The shadows seemed darker and more dense than they should have. There was no one thing that made it forlorn, and if you stopped to think about it you would eventually come to the conclusion that you were imagining things. The people in town said that the house used to be owned by a witch, who left for some unknown reason. Margaret knew in the back of her mind that the house was magic. Sarah had been born there when she was only a girl, in the same place where Margaret had been born in another house.
Coincidentally, Margaret and Sarah looked alike. The same slight body build, the same bright blue eyes and solid yet thin brown hair. They were alike even to their face shape, ears that stuck out and sharp fingernails. Their neighbors had all known Margaret as a grown woman, so no one was around to say, "Why, Sarah, you look just like Margaret at her age." It bothered Margaret, not because she didn't want someone else looking like her, but because of the precise exactness of their features. She decided to put it out of her mind until that morning.
"Ow!" cried Sarah. Margaret rushed over and gasped. Sarah had cut herself on a sharp edge of the rock and she was bleeding from a cut about an inch long on the first joint of her little finger. "It doesn't look that bad. Go and get a cloth, soap and water," said Margaret. She then paused briefly and took another look at the cut. It looked somehow familiar. Margaret tried to remember where she had seen a cut like that before.
"Can you wash it off, Margaret? I can't make myself do it," said Sarah.
Margaret did not answer as she realized, with a wave of disbelief, why the cut looked so familiar. Eyes closed and trembling, she fingered a scar on her hand. It was about an inch long, located on the first joint of her little finger. She had gotten it when she was about Sarah's age...
"She has realized."
The voice of a hundred echoes, belonging to the High Enchantress Omig, was captured in a sphere that shimmered like an opal and floated near the top of the high study ceiling. Instantly the ball glowed with the blue fire inside it. In a burst of eerie song and spangles of shooting stars, the ball shot over to Araeph, her twin likeness. Araeph caught the ball and smiled as the ball opened and the words came pouring out in Araeph's language, the fire language.
"Mmmmm. We can't have that happening. Margaret is not stupid. She knows that the house she lives in is magic. Since she does not want to believe in magic, she will put two and two together and move out, which will not do her any good now that the child has been born."
The ball captured her voice and translated it to Omig. Upon receiving it, the High Enchantress held the ball between her two first fingers and walked over to her sister, letting the ball go only when she was standing directly next to Araeph. As the ball was directly overhead, it enabled the sisters to communicate as fast as our normal conversation.
"It was your idea, Araeph. Your idea to enchant the house so that one that is born there will have the likeness of the first outsider whom it touches. Poor Margaret, not seeing the enchantment side of Sarah until ten years later. The parents are gone to visit a relative, to help him, and possibly to fight for him. After Sarah was born, Margaret didn't see her until recently. I wonder why they don't see the benefits of the enchantment. "
"They are not like us, you know that," returned Araeph. "They do not see the good things about being a twin likeness, and, since I am one, I can say that there are many. Why, they even have different minds, because they have had different experiences." She paused. " What do we do? Or, what do we have other people do?"
"Ask Margaret what she wants, ask Sarah what she wants. Then-"
"Then test them," finished Araeph.
The sisters grinned at each other. They turned so that they were back to back and locked arms. They raised their forefingers. Magic rays of light spurted from their fingertips, brushing the sphere and sending it dancing around the room.
Omig began to chant. Araeph joined in. Soon they stopped.
"They are both very much alike, and they are very close," mused Araeph. "I wonder how much they would hate being tested separately."
"Tested with what?" asked Omig.
Araeph thought for a moment. "Margaret is a very practical and sensible person. Sarah is practical, but she is still a child, and carries with her remnants of childlike belief in magic."
"What if they both had to believe that there was a lot of magic to save themselves? Would Sarah be strong enough for both?"
"We will see," said Araeph, "Thought most likely Sarah will be the one best able to pass it. They were each brought up differently, as we were. They might survive." She began chanting again. Slowly, fire-speech and echoes swirled around them, finally trailing off into darkness.
Sarah couldn't understand why Margaret was so upset. To reassure herself, she went out to draw water from the well. She did this whenever she felt unsure of herself. As she lowered the bucket in, the water became as smooth as glass. Sarah had never seen the well water so still and peered over the rim to get a better look.
Sarah screamed. The face looking back looked exactly like Sarah, as a reflection should. The face was a carbon copy of her own. The soul behind the face was not. The supposed reflection was as confident as Sarah was unsure, as full of anger and hateful emotions as Sarah was without them. The fury of the reflection's expression distorted its countenance so that Sarah had to look twice to make sure it was really her that she was seeing. Had she known magic, she would have guessed that she was seeing her opposite.
Sarah touched the surface of the water to splash it. The water remained still, but the picture shimmered. Sarah found Margaret's face staring back at her.
Margaret had heard Sarah's scream from the house and came running to the well to see what was the matter. By the time she reached her cousin, the water had assumed the usual texture and Sarah thought she might be going crazy.
"No, you're not going crazy," said Margaret after Sarah had told her what had happened. "There is something weird going on. I want to keep an eye on you every minute of the day from now on. Don't--"
An explosion shook the earth and threw them to the ground. Margaret instinctively put her arm around Sarah and dragged her back. They watched in fascination as multi-colored flames rose out from the well. The flames twisted and hissed and roared. They listened in awe. The flames had begun to speak to them.
"We are sent here from Araeph, twin likeness of the High Enchantress Omig. We are sent to ask the child, twin likeness of Margaret, what she wants."
"What are you? Who are you?" shrieked Sarah frantically. "What child? What do you mean by twin likeness?"
"Answer, child," the flames replied. "What do you want?"
"What do you mean, what do I want? What are my options?"
"You are, as of now, a twin likeness of Margaret. You vary only in experiences and years. You have been under an enchantment since the day you were born, when Margaret held you. You may choose to remain a twin likeness. You may choose to become two separate people who never knew each other. You may choose to be reborn as one being."
"I'm a twin likeness? Of Margaret? And these are my options? I--I don't know. I don't want to be someone else. I want to be me! But...if I'm copied from Margaret, then I wasn't really me to begin with. I guess I don't want to be enchanted, either. This is all a dream, but if I could really choose, I would choose to be reborn as one."
"What do you want, Margaret?"
Margaret spoke without hesitation. "I want what Sarah wants."
"You will begin your test shortly."
"What test?" cried Sarah, but the flames did not answer her.
Araeph flicked her finger and the flames departed from the well. The glowing sphere was once more overhead between her and Omig.
"Goodness, they were really frightened. DO you think they're up for the test?" asked Omig.
Araeph turned her back on her sister and reached for a small crystal ball on a jeweled pedestal. She cupped it in her hands and whispered, "Margaret and Sarah."
"I really don't know," she said loudly, looking over her shoulder. "They are both beginning to think it was a dream. They are even questioning the fact that they are likenesses of each other. How stupid of them! Of course, we really couldn't have made it any easier for them."
The thousand echoes grew vehement as Omig responded, "How can you talk about how silly they are when their lives are at stake? How can you giggle at their faults when their faults may be the death of them? You have not been in danger since you were created."
Araeph smiled bitterly. "Neither have they. I know very well their shortcomings, sister. More so than you do. They barely have a chance. But we cannot put off these matters forever." She sighed. "I wonder, if they don't make it, is it possible that we could grant their wish...."
"No. Of course not," she answered herself. She raised her arms and gently placed them on a tongue of fire. Instantly her hair and dress burst into flame. Her eyes glowed with the brilliance of a million stars.
"I will visit them myself," she said.
Araeph vanished into the air and instantly reappeared before Margaret and Sarah. They were still talking, but stopped quite suddenly as she came near, a whirlwind of smoke and fire and heat. She pointed with her foot to a spot on the ground, which erupted in flame.
As if they had been set to a timer, thousands of fiery tongues burst into existence, circling Margaret and Sarah separately. The fire began forming itself into strange images: monsters like they had never seen, death and pain and anger and anguish. Their opposites were now not reflections in water but real beings with which they had to wrestle with.
Araeph watched them in interest.
Then Omig arrived. The High Enchantress had no physical form outside of her study. On Earth, she was only an echo; only the past. The past can hurt as much as fire.
Omig seeped into the minds of Sarah and Margaret, whispering in their ears, and telling them of what they would face once they made the transition from two beings into one. She whispered doubts and fears.
Omig felt like screaming at her own test as she saw their faces twist in agony. Araeph felt like she would destroy herself with her own fury.
Both felt the implications of their doings.
Neither did anything to ease them.
The roaring fire blocked out their shouts as the two fought against themselves for a reason they could only guess at.
Margaret saw her opposite coming at her. She could tell by the expression on its face that it held no doubts or fears, and that it was as evil as she was good. her opposite leaped out at her from the heart of her circle of fire and she prepared to meet it.
As she gazed into the angry face, she felt more fear than she had ever experienced in her life. The creature struck at her, missing her face but succeeding in whacking her on the ear. Why did the creature miss? She had a clear shot at Margaret's head.
Margaret didn't hesitate to find the answer. She knew her strengths and weaknesses well. She knew now that it was her opposite, and, though having her outward appearance, it was as strong as she was slight. It was also, however, as poor at aiming as Margaret was accurate. Margaret grabbed the hem of her opposite's dress and struggled to turn it to face the fire.
The creature shrugged her off like she was nothing and nearly threw Margaret to the ground. But the creature did not know as much about the limits of its abilities as Margaret did about hers. With repeated kicks, she managed to get the creature to the edge of the fire. The creature struggled, hitting and kicking. Margaret could feel blood gush from a gash on her ankle and welts on her arms and back. Margaret backed her leg up for the last kick into the fire.
That's when Omig's whispers made them selves heard.
Surrender.
"Never," said Margaret defiantly.
You do not know everything. You are young.
"Not too young to know what is the right choice to make."
There is much you do not know about being reborn.
"This procedure is not half as confusing as is the enchantment which was placed on Sarah in the first place," Margaret countered. "And it is for Sarah's sake, not mine."
Is Sarah worth the loss of your memory? Is Sarah worth the loss of your individual life--and hers?
"The loss of memory would be better than living with the guilt of not doing the best for Sarah, and the fear of not knowing what would have happened," said Margaret through her clenched teeth. Her grip on the creature slackened ever so slightly.
Sarah, Sarah, Sarah. Is that the only excuse that you can think of. What if Sarah was not so virtuous?
Images and emotions began pummeling Margaret. They were images of all the bad things Sarah had done, all of the times she had been angry.
Margaret became angry more than she had realized she could get. She turned her head away to shake it free of the imprisoning images. As she turned, her eye swept by her opposite. The creature was now quite peaceful and calm.
Margaret released the creature. As her anger evaded, so the anger of the creature grew. Margaret did not care. She no longer knew if she was doing the right thing or not.
Then the opposite took on the face of Sarah's opposite.
That was too much. Sickened at the sight of her cousin looking so mean, Margaret, with a cry of anger, bodily heaved the creature back into the fire from which it was born.
Omig sighed. The fraction of a second in which Margaret had seen Sarah's opposite in her own was because it had consumed her cousin. Margaret had passed the test because Sarah had failed.
Araeph appeared beside her, wearing a look of amusement. "So. They were tested together, after all. What do we do now?"
"Why are you always asking me what to do?" returned Omig. "We were wrong to think that both of them would have a chance of passing. We were wrong to let them know that we existed. We were even wrong about predicting who would pass the test."
"We are humans, after all," said Araeph. "We just have higher magic abilities." Araeph touched the stone that Sarah had painted. The colorful swirls had dried. "Hmmm. Only partly done."
Inspiration flickered in Omig's eyes. "Only partly done," she agreed. "But the one side that is plain looks like the earth that Margaret and Sarah live on. The decorated side looks like the dreams and wishes that they have grown upon it. Both are beautiful."
Omig hesitated. "Is it possible to do the same with their request? Leave one part done, the other to be desired?"
"As one finished the test, and one failed," Araeph said, realizing what her sister was thinking of doing.
"I have a great idea. This whole incident started at our study, when we built the house," Araeph continued. "Maybe we can `go back to the drawing board' and finish it right by ending it there."
"But Sarah and Margaret. Margaret is confused. Sarah is lost," said Omig, looking worried. then she smiled. "Well...what do you think we should do?
The identical grin appeared on Araeph's face. The sisters looked as alike as they ever had been. "We go back to the study and finish what we started."
The two enchantresses transported Margaret to their magic laboratory. Margaret, who was already confused, simply stared at the two sisters, who were by now looking like the fire sister and the hundred echoes that they were when they were not on Earth.
"You were given a choice of staying as you are, becoming two different people who never knew each other, or being reborn as one," said Omig. Her voice was the biggest and most impressive. "Your choice was the last one. As you may or may not have figured out, you have passed the test. "
"And Sarah?" asked Margaret eagerly.
Omig shook her head. "She was lost, which is why she is not here with you now. As she did not pass the test, I cannot grant you what you requested. It was our mistake as well to think that she could have.
"We will grant you some, but not all, of what you wanted. You will remain as you are, excepting the fact that you will not remember her. Sarah will be reborn as she originally was, and have no recollection of you." Omig paused. Margaret had taken the news very well, although she could see that Margaret was grieving. Then, with a last smile she said, "One day, in the future, you will meet and become great friends." And they did.