Tremble and Fret Upon the Stage

[Eliza Lacrimosa]

There is grunting, sounds of a scuffle. Somebeast screams.

Eliza?s claws snatch at her assailant, snagging on silk. The other beast thrashes, scratching at her, trying to escape. 

Paws scrabble in the grass and rocks, as both combatants struggle for breath.

Teeth sink into her paw and Eliza shrieks. Blindly, she drives her paw into her opponent?s stomach and shoves.

There is a horrible, lingering scream, which seems to go on for hours. It is the pleading wail of an abandoned kit, alone in the night; it is the primal snarl of a nemesis in total defeat. It is agony and rage, loneliness and despair, the tragedy and euphoria of an entire lifespan expressed in one final, wordless crescendo.

Eliza hears the dirge for days, its dying echoes haunting the periphery of every other sound.  Eliza might never stop hearing it.

Verand had screamed exactly like that... 

===

?Liza!? called out Venril?s reedy voice.

The absence of her name?s primary syllable would normally have been cause for a pointed linguistic tutorial, but not today. Not right now.

?What do you want?? Eliza demanded. She wasn?t in the mood to talk to him. Not after what they had just done; not after she had heard his horrible, vicious laugh echoing up from the tunnels. Not until she had time to wipe Verand?s blood from her face.

?I saw you talking to Damask just now,? the stoat stated.

Eliza sniffed. ?So what if I was? Don?t tell me you?re jealous.? 

Venril?s mouth mumbled a protest, but the vulnerable brown eyes said, ?Big time.?

?I was talking to him, Venril. Talking.?

?...And clapping,? the Captain added, resentfully.

?Come off it, Venril!? Eliza shot back. ?He sang me a song.?

Venril frowned. ?I just think you should be careful of him, that?s all.?

Advice in cautious companionship from a fellow who cackled like a madbeast after crushing his rival?s skull. How dreadfully ironic. ?You want me to be careful of Damask? Please, Venril, he?s harmless.?

?Harmless?? the stoat snorted. ?That feathered lunatic tried to kill me last night.?

?What?? Eliza asked incredulously.

Venril?s eyes smouldered. ?He snuck into my sleeping chamber and threatened me with a knife, because I had the gall to speak to his ?maiden.??

Well, that was a surprising development. ?I... I?m sorry. I had no idea...?

The stoat glared downwards, unwilling to make eye contact.

?Venril, look at me,? Eliza said, draping a conciliatory paw on the Captain?s shoulder. ?I?m definitely not his maiden, okay??

?Okay?? she repeated, softly.

?Okay,? Venril nodded.

?Okay.?

From valiant would-be saviour to whining barnacle in the bat of a wayward eyelash. Fates, but males are pathetic.

With a pseudo-sympathetic pat, Eliza slipped away, leaving the pitiful Captain to his ruminations. She wandered about a bit, trying in vain to locate the grotto she?d bathed in earlier. These stupid tunnels all looked the same. Some of the ferals jabbered at her as she passed. Eliza ignored them.

Eventually, she stumbled upon a cavern which contained a small pool. The pine marten splashed a few pawfuls onto her face, scrubbing the scarlet flecks away. Once she thought she?d gotten rid of it, she chanced a look at her reflection.

Eliza stared morosely down at the undulating image. She hadn?t taken a proper look at herself, not since the collapse. Scars traced hideous swathes across her face, their spidery baldness furrowing her dark fur. There were lines across her muzzle, her cheeks, her forehead, even a long slash beside her right eye. Unable to look anymore, Eliza dashed the grotesque image away with her paw. The mutilated face dissolved into ripples. 

Seeing the broken ferret screaming in fear and agony had been... horrible. Eliza had loathed him, hated him, wanted to see him brought low for daring to haunt her the way that he had. But she hadn?t wanted to be there, watching, getting his blood on her face. 

Evil for evil, blow for blow. Repay the malevolent brute for what he had done to her. Let the punishment to fit the crime. That was all. It was supposed to be over, once he was dead. No more leering. No more veiled threats or propositions. No problems.

But it wasn?t over. The stupid ferret was still there, screaming inside of her mind, accusing her.

??Ello! ?Ellloooo! Eliiiiiiiza!?

The last beast on earth Eliza felt like talking to waddled into the cave. 

Eliza cradled her head in her paws. ?Go away, Revel.? I?m not in the mood to hear about your latest demented escapade.

?No, no! Look!? Revel tottered over, her girth shrouded in some hideous crime against needlework. ?See! I got dress like yours!? the stoat said, with an ungainly half-twirl. Her skirt flapped limply. ?Look, isn?t it pretty??

?It?s beautiful,? Eliza lied. Exquisite, really. Now get it out of my face.

The stoat?s eyes shone in the torchlight. ?You think so??

?Yes. Whoever you stole it from must be very upset.?

?I didn?t steal it,? Revel said in a hurt tone. ?Zhipzi made it for me.?

?Really.? Eliza appraised the haphazard stitching. Zippy must be one of the blind ones.

Revel nodded. ?Really! Zhipzi said takin? things from others is bad ?cos it gets you kicked, unless they're dead. ?Course, Venril is too sissy-skirt to kick me.?

?Oh, really? Did he kick you for stealing my dress, then??

?Nope. He didn?t,? the stoat beamed.

?Revel, why did you steal it, anyway? How in the world could you believe it would even fit you??

?I know...? Revel said, staring at the dirt. She put her paw down and began to twist the dust into pictures. ?I just... I just want t?be pretty like you.?

Eliza stared.

?Pretty?? You? Don't make me laugh.

?Aye. You?re nice an? thin, an? your tail is so fluffy an? clean. I seen th?way Verand?s been lookin? at you. You?ve even got that bird droolin?! You?re every male?s fantasy!? The stoat tugged at her new skirt. ?Nobeast likes me. ?m fat an? dumpy an? dirty. But I?d lose both my ears, aye, an? my eyes too ? I?d get more scars?n you an? Rath together, an? break my tail in a score more places, if it meant I could just be as pretty as you.?

Revel cast her tear-stained eyes up at Eliza.

"I wish I could be a pine marten. I wish I was you!"

Eliza had nothing to say.

Of course Revel should be jealous of her. Everybeast should! That was the whole bloody point of being rich, wasn?t it? The whole point of being the prettiest at the ball, of sweeping down the central staircase on the arm of the unattainably handsome beau, of being better than everyone else at everything... The point of all of that was to make every other beast wish that they could be you.

But, what did Eliza have, really? She had no real wealth of her own, only the handouts that Daddy gave her to scab over his guilt; all of those who might once have been called friends had abandoned her when it really mattered, left her to die on Lehman?s dance floor. Her life held nothing but the fleeting ghosts of spent money and ersatz friendship, rapidly fading from party to party.

Being ?every male?s fantasy? wasn?t nearly all it was made out to be, either. The dashing Captain was a cruel, vindictive murderer, the gallant knight possessive and unhinged.

Revel, on the other paw, had... naivety. She had some kind of stupid, simplistic approach to life that allowed her to think things like that a dress could solve everything. Eliza had a wardrobe lined with dresses at home, and she had never once felt a fraction of Revel?s excitement over any of them, any more than a fisherman would be over a new fish-hook.

?...No, Revel,? she said finally. ?You don?t want to be me.?

?I do too,? Revel pouted, noisily wiping her snout.

I don?t even want to be me, really... No! Stop it! she snapped to herself, quashing the stupid feelings. I love my life! It makes me happy, it satisfies every want I could possibly have! Revel is stupid, and her dress is hideous! Nothing has changed! I?m just feeling soppy... because of Verand. 

Yes, she told herself. That's all it is. I?ll find my way back home, and then everything will return to normal, despite the stupid scars. And if their prissy standards and judgemental hierarchies no longer fit me, I?ll force my way in anyway, and bend them until they do.

But, reality interjected, getting there would require a ship, and building and crewing a ship would require slaves. A lot of slaves.

Eliza glanced over at a pair of chittering Fritterik, dragging a net of hantz fish behind them. 

Hmm.

As a dark mental flower began to bloom, it occurred to Eliza that she had never been formally introduced to Captain Matukhana. An unfortunate oversight, and one that she really ought to correct...