Lost Saviour

I spent most of my childhood quite isolated from the rest of the world. My parents owned a farm in a remote town off the coast of Ireland and I woke up every morning the same way, ready to tend to the animals without a complaint. I was seventeen when I saw my first troupe of traveling actors. My father had broken his leg and to his utter shame the duty of taking our pigs to market had fallen upon me, his only child, his only daughter. I traveled by foot two days until I entered Cork City with my wagon in tow. Nightfall was too near to sell anything and there was some sort of event going on at the local inn. I stepped inside and a scarred man with a graying beard greeted me. He accommodated me with a room and I left my wagon to be tethered by a stable boy.

By the time I was headed toward my room I had forgotten about the celebration, sleep pushing me toward a bed. I went through the doorway leading to the main part of the inn and my senses were engulfed in music and laughter. My emotions were flooded to the point were I wasn’t sure as to what I was feeling. There were a group of men performing on a couple large tables near the back of the room and all the patrons had turned to watch them. I stared at them a long time, until after they had finished and most the patrons had given in to sleep’s persuasive voice. I was completely entranced; forgetting about anything but their performance and the feeling that I had discovered something. The men had fascinated me, not only the acting but the music and costumes as well. Never had I seen anybody look so joyous and carefree, so happy to be alive. Something inside me came alive that night and as I approached one of the actors I felt myself recognizing that life as passion. I felt the intense need to join them, to find my own talents and develop them into something just as tangible as theirs. We talked for a long time; his name was Asriel and he had been with the same troupe for two years but had acted his entire life. I was amazed at how much like a family they were-how much they depended on each other. The troupe was leaving the next afternoon, eventually making their way across the water to England. Another actor came to introduce himself as Tobias and informed Asriel that the equipment had been put away. I realized how late the hour was and bid them both goodnight.

I woke with dawn as if I had still been on the farm. I pushed the actors from my mind and trekked to the butcher with my pigs. I left the butcher with a heavy purse and ready to make my way home when I saw Tobias across the street helping a small boy load their wagon. I knew at that moment I had a decision to make; I could go home where the pigs, cows, and chickens were waiting upon my arrival or I could convince the actors to take me with them. The latter was much more appealing to me and I had little qualms about leaving my parents; my impending eighteenth birthday meaning marriage with the neighboring farm. My only perceivable problem was convincing Asriel and the troupe to let me join. I barely hesitated before crossing the street to approach Tobias and the boy. Tobias greeted me with a smile and I was about to ask for Asriel when he stalked out of the inn. He addressed the boy, Kain, and scolded him for leaving a bloodied glove on Asriel’s pillow the previous night. The boy snarled something at Asriel and walked away. Asriel took notice of my presence and, startled, asked kindly how my morning had been. As if nothing at all had taken place. It didn’t take much effort to convince Asriel that I should join and then petition the others. A home cooked meal on the road appealed to them more than I had thought. I mentioned my interest in acting and their thoughtful expressions told me I would have my chance.

I had met the others with apprehension. They had never had a woman with them before and a woman was an unusual sight near a stage. I had already met Tobias and Kain, but we were formally introduced. My first thoughts on Tobias were of the promiscuous sort, and as I grew to know the troupe as my family I found my first impression to be true. Often I would have to remind Tobias not to flirt with patrons until after the show. I learned the boy Kain was in fact three years older than myself and didn’t take kindly to people who made the assumption I had made. Kain was forever temperamental and secretive; I don’t think anybody ever really knew what he was thinking or what he was doing when he wasn’t with us. His glare was famous for forcing the most heroic of people to run away in terror. Kain frightened me and I constantly got the feeling of suspicion around him. I knew there was something more to Kain but I dared not look deeper into my thoughts on him.

Michael was the playwright. He wrote the skits and directed the acting in rehearsals. Michael was the oldest of us and usually the most focused; he was our fearless leader. I met Gabriel last. Gabriel was a mystery to me; more enchanting than Kain and less frightening. Gabriel played the flute sometimes and could act any part, but off stage he rarely spoke. He never failed to be kind, speaking his silent words with grace and never once coming across as rude for not speaking.
As we grew into each other’s lives I found the time passing quickly. Routine made the months seem like a few days. Every town we stopped in the people gathered to see us act; our audience ranging from the patrons at an inn to paying customers at the city’s theatre. My parents were never wholly gone from my thoughts as I had sent them the pig money and some of my tips when I could. My first time on stage was to be nine months after I had joined. I had studied them each time they performed, perfecting in my mind my own performance.

I was repairing a tear in one of Tobias’ costumes when my moment came. Gabriel slid into the room and stood quietly watching me. I finished the last stitch and turned around.

“Oh, I didn’t see you there.”

“Michael requests a brief word with you.” Gabriel spoke concisely with a pronounced sort of manner that hinted about his previous life. He turned swiftly and fled the room.

I found Michael in the room he had been assigned. He was sitting at the small table going over his next great playwright, sure to be a hit. He looked up at me and I asked him what he needed.

“I wanted to talk to you about acting in our next play. In a month we’ll be in London and I’ve been corresponding with a friend of mine there that can guarantee us a spot in the Queen’s Theatre. If you can take on the making of your own costume then I’ll put you on stage as a young foolhardy noblewoman. Don’t disappoint me.” Michael said this quickly, his voice lacking its usual kindness. As if I had imagined his personality change he smiled broadly and said, “Lady Luck be with you.”

“I’ll do it-I mean I can do it. I’ll have it done. Umm… Thank you.” I stumbled over my words and rushed out of the room to start forming ideas for my costume. I had one month to make the perfect outfit, one month to refine my acting.

The next two weeks proved to be the most difficult. I had duties to attend to and found it hard to have the time to study and sew a whole costume and take care of the boys. A weight settled on me and never left. I needed to finish this costume; there was an ache deep inside me that told me I would never be happy if I lost my opportunity to act. Everything I could possibly posses went into making my costume perfect. The idea of being an actress resided in my heart like a great dark sponge, absorbing obsession and swelling my undernourished purpose. Most nights I could be found sewing instead of sleeping like the others. The closer we got to London, the more I felt the sponge grow soggy and heavy. I started to panic and more than once found anxiety infesting my mind.

Two days outside London and I hadn’t finished. Thread constantly covered my clothes in seemingly endless amounts. My nerves seemed receptive to everything around me. I had worked so hard for an opportunity and I was damned if I was going to let it pass me by. A debut in London. My Passion. A place where I would be beautiful and unique. I would die before I let anything stop me.


Except I didn’t.


The night before my debut I was diligently working on my costume, the others had bid me a good night’s rest hours ago, except Kain who never seemed to sleep unless we all slept. I sighed heavily, my eyes slipping shut, body slumping over the masses of fabric in my lap. The candles were snuffed out and my eyes snapped open. I was sitting huddled in the corner, suddenly shivering. I wrapped my arms around my knees, crushing my nearly completed costume.

“It isn’t finished, I have to finish.” Maybe my barrier between reality and mentality broke. I sat there rocking back and forth, muttering in a room that had no existence in my darkness.

I could hear footsteps that were muffled, so think and palpable was my darkness.

“This piece of filth is finished?” Asriel’s voice carried over to me, undisguised by my darkness. The disgust dripping from his words was evident in his tone. I could feel the movement as he bent down to physically scoff my costume.

“It’s time,” Michael’s presence could be felt, “Where is your costume? That can’t possibly be it, this opportunity wasn’t meant as a joke.” They walked around me, they kicked and jabbed my sides, they pried my fingers out of their grip. My hard work, my ambition fell to the floor with a sharp intake of breath.

“Please…help me finish.”
I whimpered, rocking back and forth, back and forth. Laughter came from my right; Tobias and an ever-silent Gabriel. They were in full preparation for the Queen’s Theatre, elaborate buckles and many layers. My eyes pleaded up into their eyes, help me help me. Tobias’ eyes returned my plea with a desert of anger. He taunted.

“It’s not like I ever really expected much else of you. I’m not surprised.”
He picked up my costume and handed it to Gabriel, releasing it like dirty laundry.

“We trusted you to finish, good for nothing wench.”
Gabriel never spoke a word and as I began to hope he lifted my costume over his head. I closed my eyes and began to pray, I bit my lip and trembled. The force of my costume impacting with my body caused my teeth to clench, meeting halfway through flesh.
The buckles. They beat me with the costume; the buckles gnawed through my skin like heat through lard. I didn’t even bruise, my skin ripped and bled but never bruised.

Tobias continued taunting. My tears mingled with blood, a burning river rushing down the side of my face. I whimpered, rocking again. Huddled, they stopped. The belts. They removed the belts, the leather welts across my back. From inside myself I could hear the crack of bone and the quiet abandonment of blood.

“Stop”

I whimpered. Rocked; back and forth, back and forth. Cradled by the great darkness. Encased. I screamed. I heard my scream even after it ended. Then the silence took me, too.

A sound broke my dark chamber. Kain. The last member of their group. I was not afraid; I was ready to accept my end content with the journey I took for granted. He walked toward me; I closed my eyes, prepared.
My cheek grew warm. I opened my eyes and found the darkness had evolved. An ecclesiastic light. Kain soothed me with a gloved have against my face, stroking in the light.

He removed the glove and trailed a finger through the blood to my torn and bloody lip. He leaned down and whispered to me, it’s okay, don’t worry. He looked me in the eye for a moment before embracing me in a kiss. He was slow, not caring that I was unresponsive. He licked the remains of blood away from my lips before he pulled away. He whispered to me again; a confidant, claiming voice speaking words I would grow accustomed to in the future. A voice I would learn to know as my sanguine catharsis.
“Zepporah, you will always look your best covered in blood.”