“
Okay. Can someone please explain what’s going on here?”
The two of them stopped their ridiculous pacing and turned to look at her in unison.
“
Well,” said the Tramp.
“
We,” said the Tangle.
“
Are prisoners,” said the Tramp.
“
We need,” said the Tramp.
“
The stone,” said the Tangle.
“
What stone?” and so began the story of the beautiful wives and the poverty of the village. Tangle had
stolen jewelry to sell, whilst Tramp had been disrespectful to the Emperor during a special visit, and the two
were imprisoned for ten years. When Tangle was thirty five and Tramp hitting forty, Emperor Qin Shihuang
demanded that they, the laborers and the common people build the hardest pieces of the Great Wall. They died
at work. Tangle had a gift from his wife received years after he died. It was a stone, sworn to keep them safe. On
it had carved, If the stone is touched by soul, it will set you free. But it was under the cement of the wall, and no
one could get it out.
Tangle cursed under his breath rather loudly. “We won’t have the cause of our death staring us in the face
forever. Our secret will be hidden, and people may roam the Great Wall as they wish. Do you understand,
Felicia?”
“
Flavia,” she said quietly. She understood what she had to do. She began to journey down the long trail,
all the time tracing her fingers. When the sparks began to bounce like mini fireworks in the wall, she willed for
the stone. She willed and willed until the fireworks were bigger and brighter. With all the power in the world,
she felt the rock shift underneath her palm. It revealed a twinkling jade stone. It was bruised and deformed but
altogether beautiful, sending Flavia energy up her spine. She grabbed it and the rock shifted back into place. She
curled her hand into a ball, feeling the cold stone squished into her flesh. She waited.
Nothing happened.
Flavia turned around but Tramp and Tangle were nowhere to be seen. She ran up the path that led into
the temple where she had found them earlier, but their translucent, slow silhouettes were not there. She found
herself very alone. Suddenly, the stone burned up. Flavia dropped it as it burst into flames of amber, then it
slowly decreased in size, until it was nothing but green ash. She heard voices around her, soothing voices. They
were the voices of freedom, of future and of happiness.
She knew the ghosts had fled.
* * *