Monday, September 3, 2012

She walked around her castle

She walked around her castle, shivering, it was cold tonight. She could see her breath hang in the air, little
silver clouds hanging still where she breathed. The night was still, no wind, no rain, not a single white
against the night’s blackest black. No sound, not even from the surrounding words, except for the soft
clicking of her footsteps against the cold stone steps.

She ached from sitting on the tower’s roof, holding still, watching on the clear night for the dangers that
surround her realm. Few knew she stood up there as she did, though they feared to follow, if they had
been given the chance. They had heard her stories from the townsfolk that lay just beyond her gates, but
as she walked back to her room, they said little for they were safe because of her.

She opened the heavy wooden door to her room, exhausted and hurt, collapsing onto the floor. She hit
the ground with a dull thud, hardly paying attention to anything around her but the firelight dancing on
the darkened walls, the drapes of her bed. She rolled onto her side, with an enormous effort, holding
herself in an awkward angle. She couldn’t hold back her screams anymore, letting go one that might have
awoken the nearest village. Except no sounds came from her throat, though it ached as it stretched. A
second dull thud, softer and less heavy came from her shoulders. She lifted herself into a sitting position,
her back aching from the unusual sitting position.

She hung her head forward and opened her wings. They moved with a hesitation of pain laced in every
muscle. She felt a wetness drape down her back and pool around her thighs. She touched it, half aware
of her blood that was now dripping her from fingertips. Sparkles, shimmers played with each other in the
deep red, the firelight making them dance. Tiny diamonds sang their song as she watched, trying to ignore
the pulsing that beat inside her chest. She made to stand, faltering with the second step, almost falling
onto the cold stone floor again. She steadied herself, holding dance on her feet, sore from the climb up the
tower. She undressed herself, moving closer to the fire for its tongues of warmth, licking her skin, basking
in the low glow. She stood naked, a hand against the mantle, leaning half her weight, balancing the weight
of her wings behind her. She sighed and a great flap of wind rang around the room.

A quiet footstep came by from the window. She could only see black boots, the tip of a sword. Her
strength too drained, she continued to gaze into the fire. Tears seeped down her chilled cheeks, dripping
onto the floor by her feet.

A low whisper came from the black boot. “Why do you cry?”

She laughed, in spite of herself, wondering how she could possibly answer such a question. “Perhaps
these are tears of joy, for my realm is safe tonight.”

The black boots took a few steps forward, asking again, “Why do you cry?”

Her heart skipped a beat, anger tearing into her mind, her wings folding against her back, fading into their
place, as if they never existed.

The low whisper came again. “Why have you hidden them from me?”

She gave a great sigh, placing her chin on the arm that was held out against the mantle, staring out at her
nighttime visitor. “And what would you have done if you had known?”

She had not meant it with such forcefulness, but perhaps it was better that way. But she still could not see
his face, though she saw a flicker of movement as his hand went to the hilt of his sword.

“I cannot protect that which I do not know,” he said quietly, though there was no mistaking the anger.

She continued to look out, though her gaze went past him. “No, that is true. You cannot.”

He walked into the fire light, she noticed the grief on his lined face, the unmistakable anger in the
clenched jaw muscles that bulged just below his cheekbones. His eyes burned bright, hurt and love
fighting for their rightful place. “No. I cannot,” he whispered. “I was sworn to protect you, all of you.”

“I did not ask it of you,” she replied back, her voice thick with emotion, knowing where this was going to
go.

“Ask? No. You did not ask for my protection. But that is not the point,” he whispered back. His voice was
barely higher than a breeze, but the fierceness was palpable.

She looked away. “I did not make you choose this path. I did not make you swear an oath.”

“But I did, didn’t I?” he said. “And I cannot hold to my oath if I don’t know what I’m protecting.”

She looked at him, her gaze still and glazed. “I am the guardian of this realm, and all those who seek my
help.”

He shook his head impatiently. “Yes, I am aware that this is your castle. And that these are your people.
That isn’t the point.”

“Isn’t it, though?” she shot back, anger and frustration welling up in her throat. “They require me, my
guard, and I give them what they do not have.”

“I am not sworn to protect them. Only you. And that means knowing how to do so, in every way,” he
replied, calmer than she expected. His patience only made her more angry.

“I did not ask it of you,” she said. She turned her head away from his, breathing heavy to steady her mind.

He took a few more footsteps until he was at her side. He lifted a gloved hand, placing it on one of her
wings, softly, gently.

“Don’t,” she whispered.

“Do they hurt?” he asked quietly.

“All the time. They are heavy, and bearing their weight, can take its toll. But it is all right.” She gave him
a weak smile.

“Is it?” he asked, his brows furrowing at he noticed the wetness on the undersides, the glistening of red
diamonds reflecting the dancing flames. “Why choose this?”

“It is not a choice,” she sighed. “It is what I am meant to do. It matters not how I do it, just so long as they
are safe.”

“At what cost?” He held up his gloved finger tips, touching them to her shoulders, her arms, tracing thick
lines of blood that contrasted with her white skin. “You are warm,” he said, as an afterthought, “I can feel
your body’s heat through my gloves.”

“It is the fire. It gives me life,” she smiled, for the first time in the night.

“And you give me mine. And I would’ve sworn the oath even if it wasn’t given to me. I would’ve found a
way.”

“Inside my castle? Yes, I imagine you would have,” she said, a bitter smile remaining on her flushed
lips. “And what would you like from me?” Though, she was sure she knew the answer.

“All of you. But I cannot protect you if you don’t let me.”

“This is my castle, it falls to me to protect it and those who need its protection,” she snapped.

“It is not the castle I have sworn to protect. Only you. And I cannot do that unless you open your wings
for me to see.”

She gave a great shudder, wary and fearful. “And what would you do?” She looked back into his eyes,
solid walls keeping her heart from him.

He walked behind her, his rough gloves lightly touching her belly, pressing himself against her back,
feeling the pressure. He put his head on her shoulder, his lips close to her neck.

“Everything I know how,” he whispered.

Monday, June 18, 2012

luck

Rain dropped on her head as she stood there, against the hard rock of the side of the mountain. Storm clouds loom overheard, drops splayed across her neck, her shoulders, darkened by the water, hiding her beauty. The wind plays against her wings, red marks appearing and disappearing on her light skin from the stings. She shivers. Booming thunder pounds across the sky, streaks of lightning mixing in and out of the pillow greys in the sky. She could not see the moon, could not see the stars, though the sun still trying to ease out its rays from beyond the clouds’ barriers, with no luck.

Luck, she thought, that’s what all of this is about. Even the sun has to count on luck, and the events of another before it can do what it was meant to do. She closed her eyes against the storm, smiling to herself, wrapping her wings closer around herself. There was a chill in the air, her skin showing the cold, though she did not feel cold. Rather, there was a sense of warm emanating from within her belly, a growing flame of inner fire that she held onto, something she found courage in.
She blinked her eyes, looking up into the sky, wondering when the storm would end. It was not the worst of it yet, that much she knew. Even darker clouds were appearing in the distance. She braced herself against the edge of the cliff and took off, her wings opening slowly as she let the winds caress her. The soft skin stretched out within her wings, the light from the great sparks in the sky illuminating them. It was dangerous to fly in these conditions, but there were chances she had to take. On her own, by herself, knowingly. She knew what she was leaving behind, and that she didn’t know what to expect.
Wind curved in and around her body, sometimes striking her a little harder than she liked. But that was how chances worked, she thought to herself. No path is smooth. This was her chance to begin her life, she knew. She didn’t know how she knew, but she knew.
She heard sounds coming from below her, and looked down. A circle of color was swirling, playing in the rain, snapping at the small droplets. She could only make out a couple of them, they were moving so fast, in and out of the clouds. She didn’t want to be seen, didn’t want to partake in the play, so she flapped her wings heavily, rising above the lowest layer of clouds. She felt bad, not wanting to play, fire coming out of her nose at the thought of her craven actions. But that’s what change does, she thought quietly, miserably, alone.
Opportunities come and go, she knew, as the thunder boomed into her head, momentarily making her dizzy. She rolled within the clouds, feeling the pillows touching her skin, cooling her skin, her temper.
The clouds abruptly ended, suddenly she was open and vulnerable. It unnerved her how quickly it stopped. Changed, she mused. How ironic. Once her eyes accustomed to the brightness of the sun, streams of rainbow beaming across the sky, she tried to focus in on where she was. The thunder still shook the very air she flew in, but it was getting fainter as she flew farther away. She beat her wings harder, eager to see his face, his eyes.
And there he was, green, gleaming, sitting still on the edge of a cliff. He was sitting so still, she thought he was sleeping, but then he crouched down suddenly, and lifted into the air, his wings spread so wide, they could wrap around her twice. The sun shone off his muscles, his scales flickering as he climbed higher to meet her in the sky. She huffed, red and orange flaring out of her nose, knowing that he meant to crash into her, his way of showing his excitement. She steeled herself against the impending strength, closing her eyes, slowly beating her wings to maintain her height.
But the crash didn’t come. She peeked through one eye, seeing another fierce black eye staring back at her. He was flying around her, breathing rings of red and gold, smothering the both of them in his flame. His warmth felt good against her wings, allowing the inner fire to grow from within. He flew up next to her, his great wings beating the air so fiercely she struggled to maintain her balance. She could no longer, so she made her way to the cliff he had just been sitting on.
The landing came abruptly, harshly, and she stumbled into the hard, unforgiving rock. He landed lightly behind her, slightly smirking at her unfamiliarity of the mountain. She rose, shaking her head, trying to right her daze. She felt a push against her head. He was looking at her, watching her, hesitant. He sat back, then moved forward, unsure of his movements, uncertain what to do next.
With a little bit of luck, this, he, was what taking chances was about, she thought., as she moved her snout under his jaw, closing her eyes, breathing a heavy sigh.
.

Saturday, March 24, 2012

he looked beyond the gate

He looked beyond the gate, stunned. She was walking towards him, her face marred by the leaves of the trees lined along the sidewalk, the metal bars that were slowly rolling open. Her hair was longer than he remembered, brown, not the blonde he remembered. It surprised him. He remembered it brown, but that was a long time ago. She was smaller, her body has changed into something older, something with more ripeness. This wasn’t the child he remembered. Gone was the bounce in her step, the floating-like quality she used to exude with her confidence. She walked with purpose now, and was headed straight for him.
But her eyes, those hadn’t changed. He caught glimpses through the brown branches, her blue eyes detectable, like contrasts only nature could build. She had a sad smile on her face, it seeping into a frown as she grew closer to him, it was obvious then that something had gone wrong. He felt the air leave his chest, ice dropping into the deepest pits of his body, his feet felt as heavy as boulders.
He stopped walking, waiting for her to slowly stride up to him, not sure why she was even there. He hadn’t seen her for months and months, she left him. She tucked a brown strand behind her ear, shyly, unsure, her eyes dodging from spot to spot as if looking for an escape. But that didn’t make any sense. Her very appearance startled him.
“Well, aren’t you a surprise?” he said quietly, his throat dry with confusion. He licked his lips, thrusting his hands into his pockets, not sure what to do with them
“Hi,” she replied.
The emotion that seeped out of that single word hit him like thunder, he shook down to his feet. He pushed his hands deeper into his pockets, making fists, knowing his knuckles were whitening.
She looked at him, noticing his discomfort, damn her. He looked away from her, past her, watching the cars drive by slowly on the street they were standing on. Some slowed as they gazed over at them, making him more uncomfortable. He fidgeted his hands inside his pockets, the denim rubbing roughly against his skin.
He looked back at her, catching her staring at him. She bit her lip. He hated when she did that. His resolve was depleting.
“I…couldn’t do it,” she said, eyes clouding, glistening.
He didn’t need an explanation. He knew what she meant. His face darkened as he thought about what to say next.
“You don’t have to say anything,” she continued, reading his thoughts.
Stealing them more like it, he blustered from within his mind. How did she do that?
He found his voice, meek as it was. “What would you like me to do?”
She turned her head around, looking behind her, gazing out over at the bluish skies, the grey clouds hovering over the mountains in the distance, causing their trouble.
“I don’t think you can, really,” she answered, her head still turned away from him “Do anything…”
The answer frustrated him, but he stayed, rooted to the spot. She was there for a reason, that much was plain. But even he wasn’t sure what it could be. It was heartbreaking to look at her, to look at the years they had spent together, to look at this woman who had changed so much from when he first saw her. For a moment, he saw the anxiousness of youth in her flushed cheeks as she wrapped her arms around her body.
“Come,” he said, not sure if this was the right decision, holding out his hand, the cool air starting to claw its way up his arm.
“Where are we going?” she asked timidly.
He looked down at her sternly, her back straightening in response.
“I’m sorry…I…don’t know what to do…or say…” she sputtered, the wind catching her words, taking them away.
He took her hand firmly, curling his fingers through her delicate ones.
“So don’t,” he whispered, “And just come with me.”  



Friday, February 10, 2012

she opened her wings

She opened her wings, the wind curling through the feathers, ruffling them with its soft caress. Her dark hair wisped around her bare shoulders as she gazed down over her protector. Something awoke her. Something she felt, it stirred, it bothered her, even as he lay quiet in his dreams, his face pale and unfocused. She gave a laborious flap, her shoulders groaning in anticipation for flight, but pulled them back in when she saw that her movement caused him to stir. She folded back in on herself, the weight disappearing as they folded into her back, thought the burden they carried weight no less, open or not.

He opened his eyes, deep, brown, like the middle of the ocean, unseen and unsettling. Images flowed across them, dreams that had not yet passed outside his sight, disturbing his thoughts, confusing his whereabouts. He caught a glimpse of the wings being pulled to her sides, the feathers forming a strong hold on her shoulders, as then melded into her skin, as if they never existed. He hadn’t known what she was when he stumbled onto her path. He still didn’t quite understand how she was able to see things that hadn’t actually happened yet, or understand forces that were not caused by herself. Or him.

She finally figured out why she gravitated towards him. He was her protector. Her wings opened again. He was waking, tired and restless. He looked over at his side, startled and anguished her presence wasn’t right next to him. but she reached out, her fingers extended slightly, and pulled him to her, wrapping her wings around him, curling his body towards hers, embracing his warmth. His heart settled, his breathing calm, and he sighed, peering out over the rustling feathers as the sunrise flickered up over the clouds.