Death
Armed with a scythe beyond the darkness,
It haunts those who are sentenced in brightness
Like a vulture in the midst of strife
With eyes of the shadow -in search of life!
“Black and white”, the entity’s vision
As focused within a boundless mission
Lurks on the day or night of judgment
As instilled on the layer of it meant.
To be in such a hazardous gray,
“To take away or not to take away”
To give an absence upon on it,
A life; wherein we add something with beat
Neither be avoided nor denied
We can not escape it even we tried
Because it is inevitable
In a way that this is unchangeable
---------------------------------------
Redder Than Shades of Red
Assassin he was!
Given on the task
To kill a given mark,
Cast on the cask
Where there must be bloodshed,
As expected
Oh what shall he do?
Obliged in his head
Being ordered to
Ravage his mere love
By his lover herself,
Because he have
To choose between likely
Heaven or Hell
But can’t do it
Because he couldn’t tell
Yet, denies to kill-
Love that never last
The passion on playing
Dota, he has
He rather dies two-
Million times in vain
Than giving up his
Passion in such pain
Chapter 8: The Awakening
Chapter 8
The Awakening
“All along I thought my brother was dead. All along I’m the only man standing behalf of my bloodline. All along I pushed my way in the core of darkness, becoming the avenger with this rose that linked at my soul...”
Arkloyle vomited at the sea. It was his fourth time this day at 4 a.m. at October 24. He looks even paler than the usual he looks like. It reached into the limit as his face turned into a yellowish skin. He felt cold as cold as he described it like an ice. He was hyperventilating. Sooner or later he might die.
“I feel very cold indeed at times of October...” he said as he coughed badly like he was dying, “Like my brother who became paler when he reached the age of 17.”
He walked in his cabin and lied down on his bed. Mavor left the ship to buy something while they were off-duty in the meantime. He was all alone in the ship like there’s no tomorrow. He could barely hear, smell, or feel a thing. It seemed he’s sweating too fast and breathing too slow as it visualizes that his life was all revenge.
“Sallie was right... this is meaningless revenge...”
“...because I have no power to slay hundreds of undead in one night, I have no freedom to myself on my solemn I’d made up, I have no more a brother as he left me alone as I suffer alone...”
Arkoyle took the rose out of his pocket and stared at it.
“I’m so weak! I only rely with this gun!”
Arkoyle pointed the rose at his head. He leaned over the rose and shut off his eyes. He slowly pulls the trigger.
At 5 a.m., Arkoyle sat down on his bed. His head was faced on the ground, his eyes were wide open and never blink, and his hair was stained with a reddish liquid. Mavor came inside the cabin. There he saw Arkoyle. “Oh my good riddance, what happened!?” Mavor gasped. Mavor quickly reached Arkoyle and he quickly slapped him in the face.
“Ouch!” Arkoyle shrieked.
“Don’t scare me like that!” Mavor yelled.
Arkoyle sighs while Mavor looked angry toward him.
“You almost drank the rum at the last drip of it!” Mavor yelled.
“And you insanely poured it all over your head! Had you think about me?” Mavor added, “Darn! I lose another drink from you!”
“Sorry... I’m just not at myself yet.” Arkoyle said. Then he feels he is going to vomit.
He burst out of the cabin. He vomited at the sea. Out of all in one day it was now his fifth time. He gasped as he recovers a bit and then. “Here we go again...” He moaned.
“What kind of disease you have? Even the doctors couldn’t explain why.” Mavor uttered as he watched very pitifully at Arkoyle.
Arkoyle recovers from the sickness he has temporarily. He looked at his pocket watch and he whispered: “This is the same time that my brother vomits at his fifth time.”
“Some say I have a dope~ in my head that hanged up on the rope... Oops I forgot! My head was missing!” The Durahan that rode in a flaming horse sang, “I tend... To- kill! I tend... To- steal! Their heads apart... as I gather them up to my place where I put the rejected heads!!” The Durahan landed down the ground from his horse and took his sword, placed on the pack beside the body of the horse. “I was bargained by a necromancer! A deal with my eternal rest! But it seemed he want a test! To prove I am right on my skull!!” Durahan quickly sang it loud. He was at a village where local townsfolk having their trade. It seemed he was in the market. “I can’t handle him! He might break my skull~ that leads to my eternal dim!” he sang out loud as he withholds his bloody rusty sword. “So come out now... wherever you are! Hear my cause... because I can’t call you through my words....” Durahan sang, “Oops I forgot... I have no voice! Only an eerie of my thoughts... you will hear in your ears. A mere whisper of the wind... controlled by my presence that you could hear. But wait, how could I think if I have no head!?” Durahan initiates to terrorize the village. “Never mind ‘bout that! I don’t even know my path! I don’t even know why I kill! As it seemed insanity brought me in!”
A fowl was released at the time of the attack of Durahan. It carries a message, a message of alert and call. It was a written call, a call for back-up. The fowl flew high before the Durahan saw it... or should say it felt at. Durahan couldn’t grasp and kill the fowl, high on the sky. It headed toward Faust Sinier and landed at the chapel. The message was passed on to another fowl by a priest. The fowl flew high and headed toward the stench of salt, the sea. It finally reached its purpose as it landed on top of the head of... “Mavor!” Arkoyle shouted, “Where’s my rum!?”
The fowl landed on top of the head of Mavor. Arkoyle was drunk; he seemed to be in absolute grief. Mavor went to him and shouted back: “I should be drunk not you! I have received more misery than you are! What’s the matter with you anyway!?” Arkoyle slapped him in the face hard and yelled, drunken as he was: “I’ve been cheated by my brother! He left me under care of the most... INSANE PERSON OF THE WORLD! Ahahaha!” Arkoyle suddenly collapsed and fainted. He was fallen asleep. “I’m not yet drunk... I’m just... tired...” Arkoyle, drunken and flooded he was with his rum, said.
“Pity...” Mavor whispered.
Mavor held the fowl on his head and took the message on its foot. Mavor read the message and he groaned: “For the love of my land! Bad timing!” Mavor took a pail of hot water and splashed it at Arkoyle. Then he quickly prepared their tools, but Arkoyle didn’t respond to what Mavor did. Mavor reached him and yelled at him to wake up; but no response, not even a finger, was made by Arkoyle. Mavor abruptly checked his pulse. Mavor panicked. He was freaked out to a sudden cold feeling of Arkoyle. He doesn’t felt the heartbeat, the breathing, the pulse and any movement of Arkoyle. Arkoyle became more paler and paler until his face turned white as snow.
“Can’t die now! Not you too! Screw up you creep!” Mavor cried, “Please! Wake the hell up!!”
On the other hand at the hilltop, afar from Faust Sinier; where he, with a lady as he looked at the ravaged place along with corpses of knights and soldiers, flipped a coin and pronounced the word ‘Placebo’. The coin phased as tails. He stood up and sang a liturgical song in Latin as he slowly walked away on the sight of the ravaged land and followed by the lady. He sprinkled the land he walked with pure transparent water. The land slowly blooms as it purifies with new beginning.
“I wonder why there are still knights even though they seemed to be extinct or being part of history.” said the lady as she gazed at the land, the land considered as a huge graveyard where armors and ashes lies, rusts and rots.
“Those who think they were knights or should I say those who still run a land by manor system couldn’t adapt with the changes. So they still believe on what they devoted at...” the man responded.
“...believing extremely that some lose their minds and do such crimes to keep it in reality even whatever it takes.” added he.
“All was white within this four sided walls... Where am I?” Arkoyle whispered. He wore all white as a glow from a hole in the wall slowly trembles him. An image suddenly appeared at him. The image of the portrait, the image of his brother, the image of the rose hanged around his hands. Then a flash swirled him like a tornado as his surroundings change and fall apart to become an island in the middle of the wide ocean. He looked around as it stormed over him. He was in a tiny island where Amihan blew at the pacific. There he saw Captain Aizack being seized by the Kraken. Captain Aizack spoke out to him: “I treated you a brother but you didn’t do your best to save me! You’re weak!” Then the place blackened out. “I’m weak... to revenge...”
“Why am I so weak!?”
In the midst of his despair, Arkoyle’s anger grows like a rumbling thunder. Slowly in the darkness a light shone to him. The light formed a symbol, the emblem of the Meveskus clan. He suddenly merged with the symbol. He screamed as lightning cast toward him.
Lightning and thunder struck their curses at the sky. A large black cloud floats high above on the land of Faust Sinier where Valcrine from Hilvar spotted it.
“So it begins...” Valcrine uttered.
Mavor gazed at the sky, wondering what’s going on. All the people including other creatures gazed above. They gazed at the sky at the incoming storm: a wrath seemed ready to strike the land.
“Let there be rain!”
So it rained and stormed at the entire land of Faust Sinier. A heavy storm flooding all the land with sorrow and hatred rained its way. Mavor complained about this because it was such a burden and a bad moment. They were ordered to go at the market village to repel Durahan or to destroy him alright. The other burden that bothers him most was Arkoyle. He couldn’t think of a way to wake him up. Without Arkoyle he thought that he couldn’t face Durahan alone. Is it because he’s the fast sharpshooter and Arkoyle is the brains?
Arkoyle was as cold as the storm. Mavor believed that he was not yet dead, because his heart was still beating even it beats very slow. Mavor heated Arkoyle up as he put a warm blanket on his entire body. He left him alone with the ship as he headed toward the place where he will repel Durahan. When Mavor left the ship, Arkoyle moved his finger. “We’re not normal humans...” a voice whispering at Arkoyle. His eyes slowly open. “We’re gifted...” His hand moves slowly. “We’re not considered as orcs and elves.” Arkoyle’s body shivers. “But we’re considered as the undead... because not all the undead we’re meant to be evil.” The shivering stops. A gust of cold wind swirled around Arkoyle. Arkoyle opened his eyes. His eyes turned blue like the night. Then Arkoyle abruptly stood up and ran outside the cabin of the ship.
Mavor on the other hand, struggled on the wind blowing toward him as he headed toward the place where Durahan was last seen. On his way he spotted Durahan loitering around. He quickly hid himself and armed his rifle. He fixed the mechanism of his rifle, suited for cases regarding armored undead and nearly immortalized one. The rain seemed to be a good cover and a manipulation of every location of Durahan. He quietly grunted as he tries to pull the jammed trigger. Then a very cold breeze blew at him. He was spooked out and the next thing he knew...
“No use for struggling...” an eerie whispered at him.
...he was paralyzed.
“You are under my spell...” the whisper continues.
He couldn’t move. Durahan, pointing his rusty bloody blade, was in front of him. ‘CHECKMATE...’ a word that linked on his mind. He does his best to fight the spell, a binding spell. Before Durahan could kill Mavor, Durahan’s blade was suddenly dropped and flew away by a mysterious light as fast as the speeding bullet. Multiple shots were fired at Durahan. The massive armored undead quickly charged where the intruder was. The spell was slightly broken, Mavor glanced a bit at where the light came from and surprisingly he knew who it was with blue eyes like the night, carrying a gun that almost slays anything, creepy as he looks like the palest person ever live. And so the man who interferes at Durahan was Arkoyle.
Arkoyle fired continuously at the Durahan. He changed a bit from the way Mavor knew about him. Durahan summoned a black blade and wielded it as he dodges and deflects all the attack of Arkoyle. Arkoyle was suddenly runs out of ammo, he slowly released the empty magazine on the rose and took it, and then he reloaded it with the same magazine on the rose. Arkoyle aimed calmly at the Durahan as Durahan was going close to him. Then Arkoyle continuously shoots at the Durahan like no other gunners or musketeers can keep up on his speed. A burst of fire shoots at the Durahan. Durahan was penetrated by chains of light coming from the rose; thus his sword was destroyed and turned into fragments, his armor was deformed and he was flown away. Arkoyle stopped and unloaded his rose, he took the magazine and placed it again on the rose, and he precisely aimed at Durahan. A strange force on the gun was appeared in the form of lightning. Arkoyle grasped at the rose as the strange force was compressed inside the rose. The rose lit brightly as the symbols around it glow brighter than the gun itself.
“I summon you...” Arkoyle slowly commanded.
He slowly pulls the trigger. And when the gun recoils, he shouted, “Thyrion!” as the bullet was released on the gun. The light like a blue electric ball formed into a being as it was fired toward Durahan. Gigantic wings like wings of a large eagle, large body with sharp claws, and a head of a dragon-like mammal were formed. A mythical creature it was, the Thyrion with a yellowish white fur on its whole body and with blood of a dragon on its veins, and an elemental of lightning and light. The Thyrion charged at Durahan. They flew high above the sky. The Thyrion dropped Durahan on the middle of the air. Durahan fell down deeply on the ground. The raining stops, the thunder and lightning grows larger. The Thryion roared over the land. Lightning on the sky focused on the Thyrion. The whole body of the Thyrion, releasing rays of intense aura, shone and slowly turned into light, forming into a massive energy ball, and then it cast toward Durahan.
“Looks like the sky lightning chose my younger brother.” Valcrine, gazing on the sky and sailing toward Faust Sinier, babbled.
“Too bad it didn’t choose me,” he added.
“Don’t be envied about it and don’t forget that I chose you.” A voice coming from his left hand whispered, “And much stronger!”
“Fine... I won’t compare the both of you!” Valcrine whined, “Well I can’t just...”
“Can’t what?”
“Resist... the flying ability of the Thyrion of course.” Valcrine continued.
“The hell I’m faster when it comes to the ground!”
“Okay-okay you’re much stronger now so lower your anger...” Valcrine insisted. Turning to the left, they landed at the docks of Faust Sinier. He was with Silvia. They disembarked at the ship and headed somewhere on the east.
The Thyrion roared over the land. Durahan has no more body because it was pulverized into the simplest matter; but he became a headless spirit, a headless wraith.
“Young slayer... My only wish before I leave this world... Is to retrieve my skull and place it on my ravaged castle at the far meadows of Frigata.”
Spooky enough to hear those words as Mavor was crept out. Arkoyle simply nodded at the wraith. The Thyrion charged at the wraith and grasped it on one of its claws. The Thyrion, turning into light particles, flew above as it slowly disappears with the wraith. Arkoyle returned to his normal condition. His eyes became as black as everyone has. He was no longer pale. But still he acts very creepy.
“Wicked...” Mavor said. He was amazed that Arkoyle has a unique ability.
Arkoyle suddenly fainted. He had reached the limit in the worst condition he has. He became sick. His fever was high. Mavor quickly took action. He finds the best doctor Faust Sinier has but he ended up nothing. All the doctors weren’t there. He loses hope; until he was approached by a man with red eyes along with a woman.
“Sound of roars... what kind of roars were they? So keen! So terrible! So frightening! What’s happening to me? I feel...”
Arkoyle slowly wakes up on his cabin.
“SO HOT!” He yelled.
There was a clean cloth that was soaked before with hot water, very hot like living fire. He quickly took it off and groaned a bit. He put his hand onto his forehead and massaged it.
“So you’re awake...”
The man with yellow eyes stood near the door of the cabin. Arkoyle stared at him as he recognizes the face of the man.
“...Aren’t you going to greet me?”
Arkoyle quickly dashed toward the man and hugged him. He was crying but those tears were tears of joy.
“I thought you were dead brother!” Arkoyle cried.
“Thoughts are deadly” His brother reasoned.
They bonded together for they missed each other. Mavor went in to the cabin to check if Arkoyle was alright. When Mavor went in, “It seemed he’s alright already.” He said. Arkoyle looks like happy. No more dark emotional sides on him. He quickly introduced his brother to Mavor.
“Mavor this is my brother, Vildavez Meveskus.”
Mavor shook hands with Arkoyle’s brother.
“Alright then... LET’S PARTY!” Mavor yelled.
They went on the nearest tavern and held a celebration. Mavor got easily drunk as for Arkoyle and Vildavez were competing against each other on drinking glasses of rum.
“Hey... when did you learn to drink huh?” Vildavez said.
“Why? Is something wrong!?” Arkoyle answered back.
They were all drunk even those who were invited at the party. After all it was Mavor’s treat.
“You’re too young to... *Hiccup* to drink young brother.”
“Hey! I’m old enough to stand up on my own... so don’t pamper me!”
“Okay... as you wish but *Hiccup* don’t drink too much because *Hiccup* you might ended up with that wretch.”
“Who the hell are you talking to!?” Mavor, asleep, affectively yelled.
The two brothers looked at Mavor with confusion. They laughed out hard for what Mavor said.
“Ahahahaha! *Hiccup* Cheers!”
“Cheers!”
“Cheers!” Mavor, lifting his glass of rum upside-down high, said.
Valdivez looked at his young brother and praised him a lot. Arkoyle had overjoyed this particular moment that he’d drunk more than enough.
“Hey... that’s *Hiccup* enough!” Valdivez persuaded, “Stop drinking...”
“I can still drink!” Arkoyle, nearly falling asleep, retorted.
“Just another glass of rum. For I offer this as our reunion...” Arkoyle, likely to be falling freely on his seat, said.
“...To father, mother, grandpa, and to the entire clan.”
“Put that down. That’s enough. I have something to tell you.” Valdivez urged.
“In fact I’ll tell you something...”
From the tone of Valdivez, he wasn’t likely to be drunk. He might have faked all the hiccups he’d done recently. He took a blade from his bag. A saber with mysterious symbols.
“I’m going to give...”
Arkoyle was fallen asleep as well as Mavor.
“Looks like I’m going to say goodbye once again by writing a letter to you.” Valdivez smirked.
Valdivez, helped by Silvia, took them back to the ship. When they got there, Mavor and Arkoyle were lain down. Valdivez left a final note for Arkoyle and the saber. He plucked out the rifle, stuck on their supplies, of Mavor and replaced it with another rifle from his bag.
“I leave you with my little brother. Take care of him.” Valdivez whispered at Mavor.
Valdivez eyes turned red. He landed down at the ship and went to another seaport. Silvia followed him. Valdivez or Valcrine looked at Silvia with a cold sight.
“What’s the matter?” Silvia asked.
“I think it’s best that we separate paths.” Valcrine said.
“What!? I thought we had a deal!” Silvia retorted.
“Not anymore...” Valcrine, holding the necklace of Rose, said.
“How did you and when did you~”
Silvia suddenly checked all her possible pockets where she could place a necklace. Then she quickly tried to swipe the necklace. But she failed. She persists on getting the necklace from Valcrine. She became angry about what Valcrine was doing to her.
“Give me that!” Silvia commanded.
“It is for your safety... I don’t want you to be involved with my problems and conflicts.” Valcrine said.
“I don’t care!” Silvia snapped.
The signal of debarkation at the pier alarmed all its passengers. The ship on which it was sailing toward Roufnogard, prepared all its things to sail.
“I want to be with you! I want to fight with you!” Silvia cried.
Valcrine headed to the ship without another word to Silvia; but still, Silvia followed him. She was tailing at that moment. So persistent she was that Valcrine seemed to be annoyed, very annoyed like he wished that he could be afar in a blink at Silvia.
When they landed at Roufnogard, Silvia was still following Valcrine. A sudden explosion of Valcrine yelling at Silvia, that he yelled: “Will you quit tailing me! The deal is off! Go tail some vampires but don’t tail the heck of me!”
Silvia was affected to what Valcrine. She was hurt. She tried not to cry but she did cry. Valcrine felt guilty about it. Silvia suddenly ran away crying. Valcrine tried to follow her but he was stopped by the Fenril that spoke out: “Forget about that woman! Prioritize first our target here! The more we stall the more his presence would disappear.”
“What do you mean we?” Valcrine asked.
“Remember that this is my life!” Valcrine, angered he was, said.
“Forgive me.” the Fenril apologized.
Valcrine wore his mask. He marched onto the dark woods of Roufnogard. He was fully prepared. He seemed to be nervous on his every step he walk on the woods. It looks like that there was something on the woods that can tremble the cold-blooded assassin.
“Show no fear!” the Fenril yelled.
“Remember that we will fight the Bardion together.”
“Why was it always that if the Thyrion appears... the Bardion also appears?” Valcrine complained.
Deep on the woods there is a sleeping beast, a pure dark elemental but neutral between the side of the good and the side of evil. A large magical black beast having silver scales lining around in the middle of its body from head to tail, having humongous red wings at its back, having red eyes and wielding a yellow orb on its left front claw. Then the beast slowly opened its eyes from a long sleep it had. But farther on the woods of Roufnogard, an army wielding black blades marched toward where Valcrine was. A man with a talisman, shaped as a fang of some sort of a wolf, stared at the black woods.
Your Scarlet Hair
Your Scarlet Hair
Spindly fingers handed the dark phial towards awaiting ones. The sea witch smiled curtly as the mermaid wearily glanced at it. “Are you sure this would work?”
The witch tried not to snap angrily and took a deep breath. “Of course I am, my dear. Drink that and you shall have land fins and a soul as that of humans.” When Ariel opened the small vial, the witch quickly added. “With a few conditions: you give me your voice in exchange and your love one has to marry you or you’ll turn into foam and cease to exist.”
The sea princess bit her lip, her purple tail anxiously turning left to right. She tucked a stray strand of blonde hair away from her green eyes. “I’ll do it.”
Ariel placed the rim of the glass near her lips, thinking it over for one more moment before tipping it over. Her voice could make anyone’s ears bleed in agony. The scream, the air thickening around her as the waters pooled tighter around her body. Her eyes started to darken as each breathe escaped her lungs.
The witch’s lips curled up as the most enthralling voice ever made left the mermaid’s throat and into a shell, the one wrapped around the hag’s neck. If this princess wanted to give this witch her golden pipes, then who was she to turn her down?
Ariel closed her eyes as the potion flowed down her throat. She never thought that this could cause her so much pain. It’s as if swords are being shoved inside her mouth and pierced her insides. Her green eyes snapped back open but the colors started to fade to darker shades, turning to black as her insides are now clamped in a bitter vise. Crimson liquid started to form on the pool of her stomach and back up her throat, dribbling out of her lips.
No one else heard a sound from outside the cave’s depths.
* * *
Warm hands shook her rounded shoulders and sea green eyes met gentle brown ones. For a moment, Ariel had no words. It’s him. The prince smiled down as he saw the beautiful girl awake and seemed to be fine. He helped her sit upright on the sandy shore and tucked her blonde hair behind her ear. “Are you alright?”
Ariel opened her mouth and though she tried to make a sound, nothing came out. She didn’t know that the witch would take every kind of voice she had. She though the hag would only take her singing voice. That conniving little-
“Can you understand me?” The man smiled warmer as Ariel stared at him with moon eyes. “Guess you can’t talk.”
The tailless mermaid sighed, and at least that, that had a sound. She nodded somberly to him, but his smile chased it away. The prince helped her stand up and offered his name. “My name’s Eric. Come on, I’ll show you where I live. Maybe we could figure out if you know anyone in town.”
Although Ariel knew that would be impossible, she went along with his plans.
Prince Eric was talking animatedly to her, and Ariel listened patiently, fascinated with everything about this man. The man he gave up so much for. He was in the middle of a story, about the time his last voyage almost ended up disastrously, when Ariel almost lost her balance. He caught her arm before she fell down and rested her weight on his side. “What’s wrong?” His forehead started to form worry lines and his smiling lips now had a frown etched on it.
The mermaid tried her best to motion towards her feet, starting to form aubergine rings on her soles, surrounded by blue and black. Her face looked pained and the prince pursed his lips. He helped her stand up straight again before whispering gently on her ear. “I’ll carry you back home.”
When they reached the castle, Eric asked one of the butlers to prepare a spare room for their guest. Ariel’s face had a faint tint of pink on her cheeks when she was laid down on the soft bed. She opened parted her lips again, hoping her voice would magically come back to her but still, silence won over.
He smiled at her, giving her minute hands a soft squeeze. “You’re not from around here, are you?” The shook of her head made him chuckle a little. “I thought so. There’s something about you...” Their eyes seem to throw questions and answers back and forth, waiting and reassuring. “Have I seen you before?”
Yes.
She shook her head again and looked away. Ariel lost her voice. She wouldn’t be able to tell him how anyway. The hand on hers clasped tighter. “That’s okay. I’m sure I wouldn’t have forgotten you if I did.”
* * *
The view from the vast window took her breath away. The moon shone so much brighter than what she remembered seeing from underwater. The stars twinkled, as if smiling down upon her. But somehow, something was off.
Her fingers pressed on the cool glass, her face leaning closer. Eric was out on the shore again, as he does every single night. He sleeves as well as the cuffs of his pants were rolled up. The sea breeze carded through his dark locks, and Ariel could imagine every expression that is surely passing through his face.
He mentioned a few days ago how his father, the king, wanted him to marry the princess from the kingdom next to theirs. It would benefit both ends, and an alliance is something that should be practiced often, to prevent unnecessary conflicts.
Eric told Ariel that he refused. And even though it was something good, it wasn’t was she was hoping for. He’s in love with the girl from the temple, the one who saved him.
The mermaid could remember that night so well. She never left the prince until someone else found him. It was the girl from the temple who he woke up to.
Still, Ariel trotted down the castle, joining Eric to offer some company. Without words, she knew that he could understand everything she wants to say. Eric’s lips twitched upwards from the corners as the blonde beauty skipped around him, dancing gracefully, trying to ease his mind away from his thoughts that are keeping him awake.
If only he knew how each step felt like walking trough a path of blades.
She smiled, ignoring each sting, just to see the pain from his eyes disappear. When his face had a genuine smile placed on it, she stopped and took a deep breath. Before the prince could notice her discomfort, Ariel pointed towards Eric’s chest and then up to his head. She did the same gesture and then she shook her head No.
The other smiled widely, even laughed softly. “You think I shouldn’t make my mind and my heart compromise?” He laughed again when Ariel nodded her head fervently, her green eyes sparkling. Then she stepped closer to him, placing one of her hands on his ear, trying not to linger on it, and then placed it on his chest. “Listen to my heart?”
She nodded again and sighed, the air escaping her lips making a wistful sound. Always listen to your heart.
“I wish it was that easy.”
Ariel started to frown, but then she reined it in. She took his hands and started to sway them following the rhythm of the waves beside their forms. He always did love seeing her dance, and Ariel knows it. If she needed to cross an endless expanse knives just to see Eric smile, she would.
Her tears made sure she didn’t get a wink of sleep.
* * *
There’s something sacred from the silence that wrapped around her. She wasn’t even inside the temple yet. She wanted to see up close who the girl that Eric allegedly feel in love with.
The pain of her land fins seemed to be more acute as she got closer, but it was nothing compared to the one she felt upon stepping inside.
The girl immediately spotted Ariel, holding onto the frame of the large entrance doors. She hurried over and helped her up, but her touch seemed to burn her flesh. Her mouth was agape, silent screams leaving but can only be heard in her own head.
The girl stepped away after having Ariel sit on one of the pews. She looked panic, but the mermaid felt better the second her feet left the ground and the girl’s skin left hers. The girl stared at her, her eyes absorbing Ariel’s features. She gasped. “Y-you’re the-“
Ariel raised a hand, and the girl went quiet. Ariel stared back at her, just wishing she was not the one who found Eric. Ariel was the one who saved the prince, not her. But there’s nothing she could do about it.
As if sensing her thoughts, the girl walked away from her with scared eyes.
* * *
The only place where her feet didn’t hurt was when below the surface of salt water. The sun is starting to set and she watched it fall down, an empty feeling forming in the vicinity of her chest. The sea princess have been with humans for awhile now, and the thought of her vanishing forever crept up to her with each passing day. Eric would never marry her. That thought was made clear when the prince questioned her about the girl from the temple. She wasn’t speaking to him anymore and he didn’t know why.
“She mentioned that you stopped by a few weeks ago. Is that true?” His brows furrowed and he kept worrying his bottom lip. When Ariel nodded timidly, his brows dipped lower. “What did you do? She didn’t... Said she’d never... What did you do?”
Her eyes widened and she shook her head. Please, try to understand. She shook hear head again and again. But he didn’t get it. He doesn’t understand. Maybe he never did.
He was about to shout at her when she walked away, the pang on her feet turning ten-fold.
* * *
The king set down the goblet on the table, the wine tasting sweet on his tongue. He smiled at Eric, even though his only heir is frowning and pushing the food around his plate, not taking a bite.
He coughed to get the young man’s attention and when Eric looked up, the king beamed. “I just found out something about the girl whom you’ve fallen for.”
For a moment, the image of Ariel passed through him. Her wavy blonde hair, her vivid green eyes, her gentle smile...
The king paused for dramatic effect and then ended it with a bright laugh. “She’s the princess that you’re supposed to marry.” He smiled wider at the confusion on his son’s face. “The king and queen sent her here, to our temple, so she could be educated. Isn’t that wonderful?”
Eric tried to speak, but there are no words to say.
Later that night, he softly knocked on Ariel’s door, waiting for her to open it. But after awhile, the door remained closed. Eric thought it safe to open it when he found out it wasn’t locked. His eyes skimmed the room slowly until it fell on a figure curled up on the bed, facing the window overlooking the ocean.
He silently went to her side. When Ariel felt the shift on the bed, she sat up, cuddling her knees near her chest as the pain on her feet just started to calm down. She didn’t take her eyes away from them, fearing of what she would see in Eric’s.
The prince tried to ease her pain this time, but she went rigid, trying not to pull away or lean into his touch. Both options are sorely tempting, but Ariel favored none.
Her green eyes lost some of its shine as he stared at his brown ones. This time, there were no more questions, no answers. They were just absorbing each other.
This time, it was Eric who looked away first. She could hear the words that he never said... I’m not supposed to fall in love with you.
* * *
Even if she knew it was coming, it didn’t make the effect hurt any less. The prince announced his marriage with their neighboring kingdom’s princess to everyone. She accepted her faith of ceasing to exist. She wonders if the witch knew this would happen.
Her feet ached, and it was nothing new, it didn’t hurt any more or any less, they just ached for the waters... for home.
The moment her feet sank down on the cool liquid, familiar colors started to form near the surface of the sea and Ariel was startled to see her sisters.
The mermaids went closer to shore, careful not to show themselves to non-merfolks. Ariel kneeled down, still not believing her vision. The eldest one handed Ariel a dagger, the blade sharp and lethal. She held Ariel’s finger’s tightly, sensing the sorrow from her sister. “The witch gave this to us. If you pierce his heart before nightfall and let his blood drip down your feet, you would live. You’ll become a mermaid again.”
Her other sister cupped Ariel’s face, on the verge of tears. “We can’t lose you. You have to do this.”
The youngest mermaid nodded as she took the blade from her sisters. When they made sure that Ariel understood, they swam back towards the depths of the waters, taking one last glance at their youngest sister.
* * *
Just one more inch, so, so close...
You have to do this. You have to, or this would be all for nothing.
Her hands were shaking as the blade was just a breath away from Eric’s chest. He was asleep with his bride laying next to him. She stared at their clasped fingers and Eric’s smiling face crossed her eyes.
She could hear her own silent voice, mocking her this time... Always listen to your heart.
Ariel retracted the dagger from reaching the prince’s skin and trembled as she left their sleeping forms. The sun enveloped her body as she walked towards the sea, already feeling her frame start to fall apart. Her feet felt numb as it hit the surface of the sea, and her knees gave, her body faltering down the ground.
She took the witch’s blade and slashed her feet, every inch, every expanse of skin, trying to show how much agony she felt during each step as one of these people. The blood dripped down, merging with the salts of the sea and each grain of sand surrounding her.
The scarlet water passed through her body as she lay down on the shore, too tired to wait for her body to turn into foam and be part of the sea again. Her green eyes started to fade to black, the color of the sea leaving her orbs and down to her bleeding feet. The waters reached up to her temple, the blood from her feet washing away the golden shade of her locks. Each strand grasped each drop of blood, and she found it easier to breathe.
Both views were too enthralling to look away from; the sparkling see mimicking stunning tail, and the setting sun sharing the same shade of crimson as the hair of the mermaid.
* * *
The townspeople talked about it, about the mermaid they found lying on the shore. Her gorgeous green tail shining like no other and her scarlet hair more blazing that any other flame could never be forgotten. None of them have ever seen anything as amazing.
As for the prince, no one has seen him after that day.
Spindly fingers handed the dark phial towards awaiting ones. The sea witch smiled curtly as the mermaid wearily glanced at it. “Are you sure this would work?”
The witch tried not to snap angrily and took a deep breath. “Of course I am, my dear. Drink that and you shall have land fins and a soul as that of humans.” When Ariel opened the small vial, the witch quickly added. “With a few conditions: you give me your voice in exchange and your love one has to marry you or you’ll turn into foam and cease to exist.”
The sea princess bit her lip, her purple tail anxiously turning left to right. She tucked a stray strand of blonde hair away from her green eyes. “I’ll do it.”
Ariel placed the rim of the glass near her lips, thinking it over for one more moment before tipping it over. Her voice could make anyone’s ears bleed in agony. The scream, the air thickening around her as the waters pooled tighter around her body. Her eyes started to darken as each breathe escaped her lungs.
The witch’s lips curled up as the most enthralling voice ever made left the mermaid’s throat and into a shell, the one wrapped around the hag’s neck. If this princess wanted to give this witch her golden pipes, then who was she to turn her down?
Ariel closed her eyes as the potion flowed down her throat. She never thought that this could cause her so much pain. It’s as if swords are being shoved inside her mouth and pierced her insides. Her green eyes snapped back open but the colors started to fade to darker shades, turning to black as her insides are now clamped in a bitter vise. Crimson liquid started to form on the pool of her stomach and back up her throat, dribbling out of her lips.
No one else heard a sound from outside the cave’s depths.
* * *
Warm hands shook her rounded shoulders and sea green eyes met gentle brown ones. For a moment, Ariel had no words. It’s him. The prince smiled down as he saw the beautiful girl awake and seemed to be fine. He helped her sit upright on the sandy shore and tucked her blonde hair behind her ear. “Are you alright?”
Ariel opened her mouth and though she tried to make a sound, nothing came out. She didn’t know that the witch would take every kind of voice she had. She though the hag would only take her singing voice. That conniving little-
“Can you understand me?” The man smiled warmer as Ariel stared at him with moon eyes. “Guess you can’t talk.”
The tailless mermaid sighed, and at least that, that had a sound. She nodded somberly to him, but his smile chased it away. The prince helped her stand up and offered his name. “My name’s Eric. Come on, I’ll show you where I live. Maybe we could figure out if you know anyone in town.”
Although Ariel knew that would be impossible, she went along with his plans.
Prince Eric was talking animatedly to her, and Ariel listened patiently, fascinated with everything about this man. The man he gave up so much for. He was in the middle of a story, about the time his last voyage almost ended up disastrously, when Ariel almost lost her balance. He caught her arm before she fell down and rested her weight on his side. “What’s wrong?” His forehead started to form worry lines and his smiling lips now had a frown etched on it.
The mermaid tried her best to motion towards her feet, starting to form aubergine rings on her soles, surrounded by blue and black. Her face looked pained and the prince pursed his lips. He helped her stand up straight again before whispering gently on her ear. “I’ll carry you back home.”
When they reached the castle, Eric asked one of the butlers to prepare a spare room for their guest. Ariel’s face had a faint tint of pink on her cheeks when she was laid down on the soft bed. She opened parted her lips again, hoping her voice would magically come back to her but still, silence won over.
He smiled at her, giving her minute hands a soft squeeze. “You’re not from around here, are you?” The shook of her head made him chuckle a little. “I thought so. There’s something about you...” Their eyes seem to throw questions and answers back and forth, waiting and reassuring. “Have I seen you before?”
Yes.
She shook her head again and looked away. Ariel lost her voice. She wouldn’t be able to tell him how anyway. The hand on hers clasped tighter. “That’s okay. I’m sure I wouldn’t have forgotten you if I did.”
* * *
The view from the vast window took her breath away. The moon shone so much brighter than what she remembered seeing from underwater. The stars twinkled, as if smiling down upon her. But somehow, something was off.
Her fingers pressed on the cool glass, her face leaning closer. Eric was out on the shore again, as he does every single night. He sleeves as well as the cuffs of his pants were rolled up. The sea breeze carded through his dark locks, and Ariel could imagine every expression that is surely passing through his face.
He mentioned a few days ago how his father, the king, wanted him to marry the princess from the kingdom next to theirs. It would benefit both ends, and an alliance is something that should be practiced often, to prevent unnecessary conflicts.
Eric told Ariel that he refused. And even though it was something good, it wasn’t was she was hoping for. He’s in love with the girl from the temple, the one who saved him.
The mermaid could remember that night so well. She never left the prince until someone else found him. It was the girl from the temple who he woke up to.
Still, Ariel trotted down the castle, joining Eric to offer some company. Without words, she knew that he could understand everything she wants to say. Eric’s lips twitched upwards from the corners as the blonde beauty skipped around him, dancing gracefully, trying to ease his mind away from his thoughts that are keeping him awake.
If only he knew how each step felt like walking trough a path of blades.
She smiled, ignoring each sting, just to see the pain from his eyes disappear. When his face had a genuine smile placed on it, she stopped and took a deep breath. Before the prince could notice her discomfort, Ariel pointed towards Eric’s chest and then up to his head. She did the same gesture and then she shook her head No.
The other smiled widely, even laughed softly. “You think I shouldn’t make my mind and my heart compromise?” He laughed again when Ariel nodded her head fervently, her green eyes sparkling. Then she stepped closer to him, placing one of her hands on his ear, trying not to linger on it, and then placed it on his chest. “Listen to my heart?”
She nodded again and sighed, the air escaping her lips making a wistful sound. Always listen to your heart.
“I wish it was that easy.”
Ariel started to frown, but then she reined it in. She took his hands and started to sway them following the rhythm of the waves beside their forms. He always did love seeing her dance, and Ariel knows it. If she needed to cross an endless expanse knives just to see Eric smile, she would.
Her tears made sure she didn’t get a wink of sleep.
* * *
There’s something sacred from the silence that wrapped around her. She wasn’t even inside the temple yet. She wanted to see up close who the girl that Eric allegedly feel in love with.
The pain of her land fins seemed to be more acute as she got closer, but it was nothing compared to the one she felt upon stepping inside.
The girl immediately spotted Ariel, holding onto the frame of the large entrance doors. She hurried over and helped her up, but her touch seemed to burn her flesh. Her mouth was agape, silent screams leaving but can only be heard in her own head.
The girl stepped away after having Ariel sit on one of the pews. She looked panic, but the mermaid felt better the second her feet left the ground and the girl’s skin left hers. The girl stared at her, her eyes absorbing Ariel’s features. She gasped. “Y-you’re the-“
Ariel raised a hand, and the girl went quiet. Ariel stared back at her, just wishing she was not the one who found Eric. Ariel was the one who saved the prince, not her. But there’s nothing she could do about it.
As if sensing her thoughts, the girl walked away from her with scared eyes.
* * *
The only place where her feet didn’t hurt was when below the surface of salt water. The sun is starting to set and she watched it fall down, an empty feeling forming in the vicinity of her chest. The sea princess have been with humans for awhile now, and the thought of her vanishing forever crept up to her with each passing day. Eric would never marry her. That thought was made clear when the prince questioned her about the girl from the temple. She wasn’t speaking to him anymore and he didn’t know why.
“She mentioned that you stopped by a few weeks ago. Is that true?” His brows furrowed and he kept worrying his bottom lip. When Ariel nodded timidly, his brows dipped lower. “What did you do? She didn’t... Said she’d never... What did you do?”
Her eyes widened and she shook her head. Please, try to understand. She shook hear head again and again. But he didn’t get it. He doesn’t understand. Maybe he never did.
He was about to shout at her when she walked away, the pang on her feet turning ten-fold.
* * *
The king set down the goblet on the table, the wine tasting sweet on his tongue. He smiled at Eric, even though his only heir is frowning and pushing the food around his plate, not taking a bite.
He coughed to get the young man’s attention and when Eric looked up, the king beamed. “I just found out something about the girl whom you’ve fallen for.”
For a moment, the image of Ariel passed through him. Her wavy blonde hair, her vivid green eyes, her gentle smile...
The king paused for dramatic effect and then ended it with a bright laugh. “She’s the princess that you’re supposed to marry.” He smiled wider at the confusion on his son’s face. “The king and queen sent her here, to our temple, so she could be educated. Isn’t that wonderful?”
Eric tried to speak, but there are no words to say.
Later that night, he softly knocked on Ariel’s door, waiting for her to open it. But after awhile, the door remained closed. Eric thought it safe to open it when he found out it wasn’t locked. His eyes skimmed the room slowly until it fell on a figure curled up on the bed, facing the window overlooking the ocean.
He silently went to her side. When Ariel felt the shift on the bed, she sat up, cuddling her knees near her chest as the pain on her feet just started to calm down. She didn’t take her eyes away from them, fearing of what she would see in Eric’s.
The prince tried to ease her pain this time, but she went rigid, trying not to pull away or lean into his touch. Both options are sorely tempting, but Ariel favored none.
Her green eyes lost some of its shine as he stared at his brown ones. This time, there were no more questions, no answers. They were just absorbing each other.
This time, it was Eric who looked away first. She could hear the words that he never said... I’m not supposed to fall in love with you.
* * *
Even if she knew it was coming, it didn’t make the effect hurt any less. The prince announced his marriage with their neighboring kingdom’s princess to everyone. She accepted her faith of ceasing to exist. She wonders if the witch knew this would happen.
Her feet ached, and it was nothing new, it didn’t hurt any more or any less, they just ached for the waters... for home.
The moment her feet sank down on the cool liquid, familiar colors started to form near the surface of the sea and Ariel was startled to see her sisters.
The mermaids went closer to shore, careful not to show themselves to non-merfolks. Ariel kneeled down, still not believing her vision. The eldest one handed Ariel a dagger, the blade sharp and lethal. She held Ariel’s finger’s tightly, sensing the sorrow from her sister. “The witch gave this to us. If you pierce his heart before nightfall and let his blood drip down your feet, you would live. You’ll become a mermaid again.”
Her other sister cupped Ariel’s face, on the verge of tears. “We can’t lose you. You have to do this.”
The youngest mermaid nodded as she took the blade from her sisters. When they made sure that Ariel understood, they swam back towards the depths of the waters, taking one last glance at their youngest sister.
* * *
Just one more inch, so, so close...
You have to do this. You have to, or this would be all for nothing.
Her hands were shaking as the blade was just a breath away from Eric’s chest. He was asleep with his bride laying next to him. She stared at their clasped fingers and Eric’s smiling face crossed her eyes.
She could hear her own silent voice, mocking her this time... Always listen to your heart.
Ariel retracted the dagger from reaching the prince’s skin and trembled as she left their sleeping forms. The sun enveloped her body as she walked towards the sea, already feeling her frame start to fall apart. Her feet felt numb as it hit the surface of the sea, and her knees gave, her body faltering down the ground.
She took the witch’s blade and slashed her feet, every inch, every expanse of skin, trying to show how much agony she felt during each step as one of these people. The blood dripped down, merging with the salts of the sea and each grain of sand surrounding her.
The scarlet water passed through her body as she lay down on the shore, too tired to wait for her body to turn into foam and be part of the sea again. Her green eyes started to fade to black, the color of the sea leaving her orbs and down to her bleeding feet. The waters reached up to her temple, the blood from her feet washing away the golden shade of her locks. Each strand grasped each drop of blood, and she found it easier to breathe.
Both views were too enthralling to look away from; the sparkling see mimicking stunning tail, and the setting sun sharing the same shade of crimson as the hair of the mermaid.
* * *
The townspeople talked about it, about the mermaid they found lying on the shore. Her gorgeous green tail shining like no other and her scarlet hair more blazing that any other flame could never be forgotten. None of them have ever seen anything as amazing.
As for the prince, no one has seen him after that day.
The Faces of Despair
Warning: This piece contains graphic descriptions of torture and drug use, please read at your own risk.
The Faces of Despair
by Pau de Jesus
A light bulb that hung from the ceiling with wires swung like a pendulum, bringing light to one side and dragging it to another. A noise emanated from its swing, creaking, creaking and more creaking. Along with the steady drip of gas down his body and the ticking of the dirty old clock in front of him, it was all the sound that he could hear.
It was dim, torturously dim, but Rivier could still see the walls and the smears of blood, both fresh and dried right in front of him but it was darkened by the lack of light. When he stared long enough, the smears would resemble faces as though the ghosts lived in the walls and took their shape by the crimson liquid as if it was their flesh. Closing his eyes was even worse.
He trembled and released a soft groan. It could have been from the cold, for he was stripped of clothing. It could have been from the small pangs of pain somewhere deep in his body from the drugs and the subtle sting on his skin, threatening to grow even stronger as the minutes passed.
Or it could have been fear.
Rivier’s eyes were heavy, his mind was in a whirl sickened with too much thoughts. He could not remember how long it had been since his capture. He had no idea exactly where he was and only a faint idea of what they wanted with him.
A surge of pain shot through his body. It was searing but only from the central points in his body as though flesh and bone would tear apart. Rivier cried out, but the merciless gag disallowed any sound but a muffled plea and he couldn’t struggle to at least find a comfortable position for fear of toppling over the clumsily made chair that would send him lying down on the glass fragments littered around the floor.
When it was over, fresh tears streaked his eyes as he tried to gather breath. It wasn’t enough with his mouth bound shut and the scent of gas only made his head spin even further. His chest squeezed in the need for air, more pain, and he inhaled, but stopped midway.
He was getting too dizzy from everything. Why was this happening?
He released a trembling sigh. It was one of tiredness, of defeat. It didn’t matter, there was no hope. He wasn’t going to get out of this alive. Rivier knew he wouldn’t even leave this room. Soon, he would be part of the blood on the walls, one of the faces that haunted those unfortunate enough to be caught and held in this wretched room.
A small cry left him when he thought of everything he would leave behind. Would he remember them when he haunted those who will die here after he did? He didn’t want to die. There were still things he needed to do.
Then the door opened, letting in a little more light for a brief moment. Footsteps were announced by the crunching of glass, making more shards for him to fall into. A hand gripped his hair and pulled him back. This new pain made him alert once more, if only for a few moments.
A blur of faces watched him. They were unlike the ones that stared at him through the walls that bemoaned his situation, but he found he was haunted by them too. Hands gripped his shoulders, putting his chair to a complete balance. The rough movements made his head feel as if it were splitting open.
The interrogation started and a chorus of voices assaulted him. The questions rang in his mind and it smashed through his consciousness like a bottle to the head, a bottle for every question. Rivier felt his head roll, he was ready to give, he was ready to say it, but he could no longer find the words to. He tried gathering his thoughts properly and much less the words he needed to speak. Things were all coming to a blur. His head hurt too much.
A dagger slipped underneath the filthy cloth and sliced through it along with his cheek. He felt the clean slice sting and the warm blood that flowed from it.
A sound reached him. The soft clicks of a revolver. Rivier felt the smooth and cold tip of a hollow cylinder on his temple. It was in its own way a sweet promise of salvation. If only they would give it to him.
As he mustered strength in order to speak, he was cut off as yet another pain shot through him, far more excruciating than the first. He screamed and writhed and struggled as much as he could as if that would rid him of the pain. The effects of the drug wasn’t tearing him apart this time, it was tearing him from the inside and clawing out like an animal in a ruthless carnage. He felt the hands steadying him roughly, a tiny favor for all the things they’ve done to him.
When the drugs were done for the meantime, his voice was small but he told them everything they needed to know in short words. Speaking brought him even further difficulty but the promise of a quick and clean death kept him going. In just a few more words it was going to end.
When he was done, he hung his head. He sold his friends for a merciful death, but the pain that wracked him could not even give him room for shame.
“Please,” he said with the last drop of strength he had left in him, begging to the blurry face he had spoken to and let his eyes close. He was tired, so very tired.
The cold barrel of the revolver left his temple.
Disturbed, he raised his head and squinted. Again he heard the sandpaper friction, the sputter of the matchstick. His eyes widened as he tried to push himself back. It was out of instinct, but the hands that held him were gone. He fell back; saw the blue and yellow blur coming towards him.
The fire engulfed him before he even hit the floor.
The scorching embrace wrapped mercilessly around him and the faces that haunted him were no longer those on the bloody wall, but within the colors of red, yellow and orange; the faces of rage. It was an indescribable, suffocating pain that his dying, desperate screeching could not even begin to describe. His body was paralyzed with pain, so much that it was not long before the world faded into black.
Single Red Rose
Single Red Rose
By Rosalyn De Leon
“I want to study here, Father!”
“Alexander Constantine, there will be no ifs, and don’ts and buts, you are to go to France and that is where you will continue medicine, am I understood?” Michael Constantine’s voice rose as his blood pressure shot up as well, reddening his face in anger. “You only wish to stay here for that filthy commoner!”
“I love her!” Alexander retorted, trying once more to make his father let him do what he wanted.
“I DISAGREE!” Michael boomed angrily, tipping over an expensive vase to the ground, smashing the porcelain beauty to dusty pieces. “You love the high school granddaughter of a lower-middle-class toymaker? That is exactly why I am sending you away! You are never getting near that low-life ever again!”
“I refuse to leave the country!” Alexander stood his ground.
“You dare deny what I want?!” he was angry, absolutely angry, and he was worrying about his heart. It had been ages since he had last been this angry at his son. Of course, he was always angry at work, but never this angry. “I know what the best is for you!”
“I beg to differ, Father! I am capable of correct decisions for myself!” said Alexander.
“You make correct decisions, Alexander, not the best ones. And as your Father, I make the decisions for you! Or are you unaware that you are still a minor?” Michael knew Alexander’s age would get him to stand down. “You still have three years before you can gather the courage you need to disobey me. And by then, you will still have three to seven years before you finish your course. You are going to France, and that is final! Do I make myself clear, young man?”
Alexander let out a breath, calming himself down. “Crystal clear, Father,” he walked out of Michael’s study in a composed manner, as if he had not gotten into an argument with his father.
He entered his room, and while growling, kicked his chamber doors in anger. He had to talk to Clarisse. He just had to spend his last night with her, and he would stop at nothing, just so he could get to his loved one, to touch her, and hold her close.
But what about Adam? His father certainly did not mention anything about his dear little brother. Would that mean that he would be leaving alone? Yes. Yes it did. He would not be able to take care of the young Constantine if he were to continue his medicine. It would mean that he could unconsciously neglect him while he immersed himself in studying so much in so little time. However, he had to sacrifice.
Alexander didn’t want time to go to waste. It was already nearing nine in the evening, and he had to leave early in the morning for his flight to Europe. He quickly changed out of his home uniform, which was kind of an all white attire with the hemlines of the clothing with gold streaks. He got in some below the knee shorts, sneakers, a blue designer shirt, and a black hoodie. Alexander grabbed one of his car keys, phone and wallet without bothering to look at what car he had chosen after just a spray of perfume.
As he ran down the marble stairs, a voice called to him. “And what do you think you’re doing this late?”
Alexander turned around and looked up. “Something you have just forbade me to do five minutes ago.” And he ran out the door.
“Alexander! ALEXANDER! Alexander Constantine you come back here right now!”
He didn’t listen, and let his father’s voice fade into the distance as he ran out into the grounds. He looked at the keys in his hands. The Ferrari 360 Modena. He ran to the direction of the red car, and getting in it quicker than the servants running after him. He drove, and saw the gate already opening before he could get to the sensors to get them open. Someone knew he was going out, and that he was on his side. He couldn’t help but smile as he screeched the red car out of the estate.
He thought of getting Clarisse flowers before he left. And he had a good idea. He floored it, and left a smoke of dust on the road as he sped to a flower shop. But it was already nine; most of the shops must have already closed by now. He smirked. A store would open if they knew it was Alexander Constantine knocking on their door.
Then it hit him. He didn’t have to disturb anyone he didn’t know this late at night. He knew someone who ran a flower shop, and he was thankful that he was the younger brother of a classmate who was in most of his classes. He grabbed his phone from his jacket pocket and called the number stored in his phonebook. He put the phone to his ear, and heard the other line ringing.
“Come on, pick up!”
There were a few more rings, and someone picked it up. 'Hello?'
“David! Is Colin asleep yet?” Alexander quickly asked, turning onto a road.
'Alex? Colin? No, not yet. I’ll go get him.'
“Thank you.”
'Hey, Alex? What’s up?'
“I know you’ve been closed for about two hours now, but would you mind selling me a bouquet of roses this late?”
'Ooh, date?'
“No, Colin, it’s actually a going away present.”
'WHAT?! You come over here right now, mister!'
Alexander gradually let the car slow down. “I’m already outside your shop,” he parked the car right in front of the shop and killed the engine. Alexander stepped out, and David was the one who let him in. “Good evening, sorry for the disturbance,”
“So what’s this about leaving? You’re not leaving Clarisse a bouquet of roses outside her window and leave to wherever part of the world, are you? Because if you will, I swear I will personally skin you alive when you get back!” an angry Colin stormed in the shop from the back.
David rolled his eyes. “Calm down, little brother,”
“Don’t tell me to calm down!” Colin snapped.
“You still have that artificial rose I let you keep?” asked Alexander. “The one that looks so real?”
“Yes,”
“Have it mixed up with another eleven roses.”
“Why?” David asked as he prepared what Alexander asked for.
“It will all make sense when you decide to meet Clarisse tomorrow.” Alexander took out his wallet, and gave David a few bank notes as Colin slipped the artificial rose in the middle of all the real roses and tied a purple ribbon around the stems wrapped in white paper.
“Wait a sec; I’ll go get change-”
“No. Keep the change. I am in debt,” Alexander took the roses from David’s hands as he pocketed his wallet. “Oh, Colin, will you take care of Clarisse for me?”
“Yes, big brother and I will.” he nodded
“Thank you.” And Alexander left the shop with the flowers in hand. That ‘thank you’ was the most sincere thank you Alexander had given to another person other than Clarisse.
He thought about what he was going to say when he was about to face Clarisse with the roses as he drove to Wymarc Game Shop. He wanted to say everything he felt, but he didn’t have the luxury of time to do that. If he spent hours out that night, his father would give him a heavier punishment. And being away from the person he loved was punishment enough.
He stood before the shop door, and pushed the doorbell. The light upstairs lit up, and a few moments later, so did the shop’s, revealing an old man in pajamas opening the door. Grandpa opened the door for Alexander and let him in.
“Alex?”
“Good evening, Sir,” said Alexander, standing before the old man. “I’m sorry, but may I please see your granddaughter for a while? I know it’s already late, but it is quite an important matter,”
“Yes, of course.” Grandpa quickly pulled him in.
“Sorry for the disturbance, Sir,”
“She’s upstairs playing with Millicent,” he told him, and led him upstairs, to a room beside Clarisse’s. “They’re in there,”
“Thank you, Sir,” he bowed, and the old man bowed back before going back into his room. He knocked on Millicent’s door, and proceeded to enter. “Millicent?” he called out and a little girl the age of five ran to him.
“Alexander!”
“Hey, Millicent,” he kept the flowers behind his back and knelt to Millicent’s level. “I need to speak with Clarisse, would you be kind enough to stay with Grandfather for a while?” Alexander asked her, and the cute girl quickly went over to the old man’s room.
“Alexander, what are you doing here this late?” Clarisse asked, and it was in fact late. She and Millicent were already getting ready for bed. “Don’t you have school tomorrow?” Alexander went in the room and closed to the door. He gave the roses to Clarisse. “Aaww, Alexander, how sweet of you, thank you.” She gave Alexander a kiss on his cheek. “They’re beautiful!”
Alexander didn’t know how to tell her what was going to happen, so he started with her name, without even having the courage to look at her. “Clarisse,”
“Yes, Alexander?”
“Father is sending me away to France to continue medicine.” And that was when he looked at Clarisse.
“Wh-what?” Clarisse’s eyes started to water. “Y-You’re leaving?” she asked. “Is this what these flowers are for?! A going away gift?!” Clarisse couldn’t describe how much she wanted to throw those roses back at Alexander’s face, but she didn’t, and she waited for an explanation.
Alexander took the flowers and set them on the bed, then held Clarisse close to his chest. “I love you so much…so very much…”
Clarisse wet Alexander’s blue shirt, and she didn’t care that he did. “Please don’t leave…just please don’t leave…I love you too much…”
Alexander cupped Clarisse’s face, and stared into her deep amethyst eyes. “Don’t cry, love, those roses, I will love you until the last one dies.” He let go of her, and left the Wymarc household, leaving Clarisse sobbing uncontrollably.
By Rosalyn De Leon
“I want to study here, Father!”
“Alexander Constantine, there will be no ifs, and don’ts and buts, you are to go to France and that is where you will continue medicine, am I understood?” Michael Constantine’s voice rose as his blood pressure shot up as well, reddening his face in anger. “You only wish to stay here for that filthy commoner!”
“I love her!” Alexander retorted, trying once more to make his father let him do what he wanted.
“I DISAGREE!” Michael boomed angrily, tipping over an expensive vase to the ground, smashing the porcelain beauty to dusty pieces. “You love the high school granddaughter of a lower-middle-class toymaker? That is exactly why I am sending you away! You are never getting near that low-life ever again!”
“I refuse to leave the country!” Alexander stood his ground.
“You dare deny what I want?!” he was angry, absolutely angry, and he was worrying about his heart. It had been ages since he had last been this angry at his son. Of course, he was always angry at work, but never this angry. “I know what the best is for you!”
“I beg to differ, Father! I am capable of correct decisions for myself!” said Alexander.
“You make correct decisions, Alexander, not the best ones. And as your Father, I make the decisions for you! Or are you unaware that you are still a minor?” Michael knew Alexander’s age would get him to stand down. “You still have three years before you can gather the courage you need to disobey me. And by then, you will still have three to seven years before you finish your course. You are going to France, and that is final! Do I make myself clear, young man?”
Alexander let out a breath, calming himself down. “Crystal clear, Father,” he walked out of Michael’s study in a composed manner, as if he had not gotten into an argument with his father.
He entered his room, and while growling, kicked his chamber doors in anger. He had to talk to Clarisse. He just had to spend his last night with her, and he would stop at nothing, just so he could get to his loved one, to touch her, and hold her close.
But what about Adam? His father certainly did not mention anything about his dear little brother. Would that mean that he would be leaving alone? Yes. Yes it did. He would not be able to take care of the young Constantine if he were to continue his medicine. It would mean that he could unconsciously neglect him while he immersed himself in studying so much in so little time. However, he had to sacrifice.
Alexander didn’t want time to go to waste. It was already nearing nine in the evening, and he had to leave early in the morning for his flight to Europe. He quickly changed out of his home uniform, which was kind of an all white attire with the hemlines of the clothing with gold streaks. He got in some below the knee shorts, sneakers, a blue designer shirt, and a black hoodie. Alexander grabbed one of his car keys, phone and wallet without bothering to look at what car he had chosen after just a spray of perfume.
As he ran down the marble stairs, a voice called to him. “And what do you think you’re doing this late?”
Alexander turned around and looked up. “Something you have just forbade me to do five minutes ago.” And he ran out the door.
“Alexander! ALEXANDER! Alexander Constantine you come back here right now!”
He didn’t listen, and let his father’s voice fade into the distance as he ran out into the grounds. He looked at the keys in his hands. The Ferrari 360 Modena. He ran to the direction of the red car, and getting in it quicker than the servants running after him. He drove, and saw the gate already opening before he could get to the sensors to get them open. Someone knew he was going out, and that he was on his side. He couldn’t help but smile as he screeched the red car out of the estate.
He thought of getting Clarisse flowers before he left. And he had a good idea. He floored it, and left a smoke of dust on the road as he sped to a flower shop. But it was already nine; most of the shops must have already closed by now. He smirked. A store would open if they knew it was Alexander Constantine knocking on their door.
Then it hit him. He didn’t have to disturb anyone he didn’t know this late at night. He knew someone who ran a flower shop, and he was thankful that he was the younger brother of a classmate who was in most of his classes. He grabbed his phone from his jacket pocket and called the number stored in his phonebook. He put the phone to his ear, and heard the other line ringing.
“Come on, pick up!”
There were a few more rings, and someone picked it up. 'Hello?'
“David! Is Colin asleep yet?” Alexander quickly asked, turning onto a road.
'Alex? Colin? No, not yet. I’ll go get him.'
“Thank you.”
'Hey, Alex? What’s up?'
“I know you’ve been closed for about two hours now, but would you mind selling me a bouquet of roses this late?”
'Ooh, date?'
“No, Colin, it’s actually a going away present.”
'WHAT?! You come over here right now, mister!'
Alexander gradually let the car slow down. “I’m already outside your shop,” he parked the car right in front of the shop and killed the engine. Alexander stepped out, and David was the one who let him in. “Good evening, sorry for the disturbance,”
“So what’s this about leaving? You’re not leaving Clarisse a bouquet of roses outside her window and leave to wherever part of the world, are you? Because if you will, I swear I will personally skin you alive when you get back!” an angry Colin stormed in the shop from the back.
David rolled his eyes. “Calm down, little brother,”
“Don’t tell me to calm down!” Colin snapped.
“You still have that artificial rose I let you keep?” asked Alexander. “The one that looks so real?”
“Yes,”
“Have it mixed up with another eleven roses.”
“Why?” David asked as he prepared what Alexander asked for.
“It will all make sense when you decide to meet Clarisse tomorrow.” Alexander took out his wallet, and gave David a few bank notes as Colin slipped the artificial rose in the middle of all the real roses and tied a purple ribbon around the stems wrapped in white paper.
“Wait a sec; I’ll go get change-”
“No. Keep the change. I am in debt,” Alexander took the roses from David’s hands as he pocketed his wallet. “Oh, Colin, will you take care of Clarisse for me?”
“Yes, big brother and I will.” he nodded
“Thank you.” And Alexander left the shop with the flowers in hand. That ‘thank you’ was the most sincere thank you Alexander had given to another person other than Clarisse.
He thought about what he was going to say when he was about to face Clarisse with the roses as he drove to Wymarc Game Shop. He wanted to say everything he felt, but he didn’t have the luxury of time to do that. If he spent hours out that night, his father would give him a heavier punishment. And being away from the person he loved was punishment enough.
He stood before the shop door, and pushed the doorbell. The light upstairs lit up, and a few moments later, so did the shop’s, revealing an old man in pajamas opening the door. Grandpa opened the door for Alexander and let him in.
“Alex?”
“Good evening, Sir,” said Alexander, standing before the old man. “I’m sorry, but may I please see your granddaughter for a while? I know it’s already late, but it is quite an important matter,”
“Yes, of course.” Grandpa quickly pulled him in.
“Sorry for the disturbance, Sir,”
“She’s upstairs playing with Millicent,” he told him, and led him upstairs, to a room beside Clarisse’s. “They’re in there,”
“Thank you, Sir,” he bowed, and the old man bowed back before going back into his room. He knocked on Millicent’s door, and proceeded to enter. “Millicent?” he called out and a little girl the age of five ran to him.
“Alexander!”
“Hey, Millicent,” he kept the flowers behind his back and knelt to Millicent’s level. “I need to speak with Clarisse, would you be kind enough to stay with Grandfather for a while?” Alexander asked her, and the cute girl quickly went over to the old man’s room.
“Alexander, what are you doing here this late?” Clarisse asked, and it was in fact late. She and Millicent were already getting ready for bed. “Don’t you have school tomorrow?” Alexander went in the room and closed to the door. He gave the roses to Clarisse. “Aaww, Alexander, how sweet of you, thank you.” She gave Alexander a kiss on his cheek. “They’re beautiful!”
Alexander didn’t know how to tell her what was going to happen, so he started with her name, without even having the courage to look at her. “Clarisse,”
“Yes, Alexander?”
“Father is sending me away to France to continue medicine.” And that was when he looked at Clarisse.
“Wh-what?” Clarisse’s eyes started to water. “Y-You’re leaving?” she asked. “Is this what these flowers are for?! A going away gift?!” Clarisse couldn’t describe how much she wanted to throw those roses back at Alexander’s face, but she didn’t, and she waited for an explanation.
Alexander took the flowers and set them on the bed, then held Clarisse close to his chest. “I love you so much…so very much…”
Clarisse wet Alexander’s blue shirt, and she didn’t care that he did. “Please don’t leave…just please don’t leave…I love you too much…”
Alexander cupped Clarisse’s face, and stared into her deep amethyst eyes. “Don’t cry, love, those roses, I will love you until the last one dies.” He let go of her, and left the Wymarc household, leaving Clarisse sobbing uncontrollably.
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