Jerkchicken
yobo
Scarface
[i]The last time I saw her she was walking through a trail of red battenlillies, her long blonde hair tied into a braid of sorts. Something a servant had to have done because I wasn’t able to create such beauty. Everything I touch died before my eyes. She was no different. The hot winds of summer blew all around us and the days lasted forever as if we didn’t have anything but time on our hands. I reached out and pulled softly at her hair, a smile my prize.
The fourth sun of Darium began to set, the sky birthing crimson and burnt orange bliss as it displayed the glory of the gods for all to witness. Just below my shadow sat a lonely yellow flower, its wings spread out as if crying for attention in the sea of red. A smile touched my pale pink lips as I bent over to rescue the beauty from being lost. I plucked it as the sun pulled off the horizon, the last one left moving quickly to join its brethren. I jogged to catch up to her, pulling ahead and maneuvering my smaller body in front of her to reach up and slip the yellow flower into her golden locks. She laughed and ran ahead, slowing only upon noticing my refusal to move forward.
Something caught my eye and I stopped for only a moment to watch the clouds part. Darkness tugged at the edge of our world in way that I’d never seen. I looked up to watch her walk toward it, a picture of beauty and elegance. I screamed for her to stop and yet I could move not a muscle within my petite frame to stop the impending doom. She never once turned around as I unraveled with horror at the picturesque sight before me.
And then she was gone – forever.
“Aryn, come child.”
Aryn looked up from a book she had been poring over for weeks, a history of the Fae and their ancestors. She was deep into the history of their lands and the mysteries that lie all around them when her Uncle’s voice interrupted her thoughts, her small body tensing at the interruption. She stood without question and closed the book, following after the large male Fae. His shoulders were so broad that he barely fit through the opening in the door, his height impressive by Fae standards as he stood almost a foot above her.
He spoke not as they moved through the belly of the castle, her brother the only other male Fae outside of her father the king, to live in the behemoth stone structure. Jareth was off fighting a war in Westorm against the dark elves or drow as some would refer to them. The empty alcoves called to her as she moved languidly behind her Uncle, the silence almost defeating.
The stopped just outside the king’s thrown room, her Uncle moving to the side as a two dwarf guards opened the door and nodded stonily toward her. She breathed in deeply and slowly let the air from her tight lungs escape, her fear of what was to come almost paralyzing her. Her uncle touched her shoulder briefly, a sign of support as she moved past him and the door closed behind her.
She stopped just in front of her father, the king a beautiful man, strong and brave, handsome and rugged – and yet he was a shell of he once was. She stood before him, the only light in the room the large candles that burned behind him, an eerie glow being pressed upon him from all angles. She said nothing but watched the fire burn just to the left off his angular face.
“Have you left the castle in the last few weeks, Aryn?” His voice was gravely and so deep she could barely pick up the timbre of it anymore. She thought for a moment before speaking, wanting to be truthful and yet needing to stand firm against him. She was no longer a child, but a full grown woman and had her mother still been around her father would’ve recognized that.
“I have father.” She looked straight at him, unflinching.
He laughed, but the sound fell flat all around both of them. She remained stiff and unchanging in her demeanor. His eyes moved across her, his wisdom unsurpassed within the kingdom. He knew where she was and yet he couldn’t move past his grief to allow her to be anywhere but where he felt that she would be completely protected.
“And I will go out again. We’ve had this conversation. It would be easier if you would just..” She tried to keep her composure, but like most times, it started to break when she felt as if she needed something to cling to in order to prove her point.
“Hush. I asked you a question and you answered it.” He moved his large hands to rest upon the claw carved hand rests, pulling himself up with a loud grunt. “Your brother has not checked in within the last week. I am unsure if he is alive and I am running out of people I can trust.”
He walked past her, his arm brushing hers, the warmth of his frame causing her to break out in chill bumps. Gold dust scattered across the air where he was, the emotional turmoil of his plait tangibly visible to the small Fae. She turned her body slowly, trying to remain quiet and attentive to allow him freedom to express himself – something he did so very rarely anymore.
“I have not heard from any of my men or your brother, Aryn.” He sighed heavily.
“Where did you send Jarith, Father?”
“To the hills of Thornfall.” He said nothing else, but she knew that he would have to send someone to check on his men, on his son.
“If I work hard over the next few weeks on my magic, weapons and fighting lessons and I have a proper guide or guard, would you let me go and check on my brother? I am much stronger than you give me credit for, Father.” She spoke quickly and chastised herself internally at the expedience of her words, a show of immaturity for sure.
He turned to look upon her, taking a few long steps to reach her before slipping his fingers through her long crimson locks. “Do your best and we will talk at the end of the week.”
He moved past her and resumed his initial position within the large ornate chair that sat at the front of the room, his eyes closing. She moved slowly toward the door, a smile touching her lovely full mouth as she walked from the room and jogged back to the library.
“The last time I saw her she was walking through a trail of red battenlilies…” she felt her eyes fill with tears, “a trail of red battenlilies in Thornfall.”
