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Airen searches for his wife, taken from him by the goddess and placed into human form. |
A flash of Yellow-green light lit the white walls, the dark wood wainscoting faintly glowed as a booted foot seemed to come from within it. A shadowy male figure, tall with a flowing dark cloak, wearing a wide brimmed hat, formed from the space where the foot had appeared. He quickly walked to the book shelves on the opposite wall. Graceful thin fingers ran across the books, stopping on one with a deep mahogany spine. His fingers slid along the spine gently, his eyes shone like candle flames, as he pulled the volume from its place, and opened it to the empty slip page and set it on a nearby table. A quill pen and small ink well were removed from an inside pocket of the cloak and set on the table before he deftly filled the pen with ink and proceeded to write an inscription on the page. His head lifted calmly as the sound of light foot steps came from the stair case. Not seeming to be in a hurry, he finished writing then replaced the book to it's space as carefully as it had been removed. Without any hesitation, he turned and walked quickly back to the wall he had appeared from, failing to notice he left behind the quill and ink well. He stepped into the wall and disappeared just as the glow of candle light appeared in the next room. A woman cautiously entered the library with a candle holder in hand. Looking around, her dark hair flowed with the side to side movement of her head, her dark eyes seeking the maker of the noise she had heard moments ago. Finding nothing, her shoulders shrugged as she turned to leave the room, it was just then she noticed something out of place on the table. Her hand brushed over the items, a long writing quill of a feather she had never seen before and the small, capped ink well made of silver. How odd, she thought, having awakened from the recurring dream of a tall, white haired man who's features looked like he was only 19 or 20 years of age. Most nights the dream came to her, he seemed to be searching for her, his eyes a wonderful yellow-green color, but oddly they could light up, as if a candle were inside the eyes themselves. She shook her head to clear the thoughts as she headed up the stairs to get back to bed for what little sleep she could muster before day break. “My name is Elle” , she told the reflection in the mirror, her left hand touching her cheek as she reassured herself of her identity. Every night for the past few months she had awakened from the same dream and she was fearful she was loosing touch with what was real and what was dream. Not that she didn't like the dream, or would hate to have the life she had in the dream. It just seemed so real and vital that when she would awake, she would be sad it was just a dream. Once she had confided her dream to her grandmother, who told her it was perhaps a remembrance of a past life. On the occasions she would find herself feeling depressed, she would let her mind remember the tall, handsome, white haired man who always came looking for her. She would feel his touch, electrifying to her skin, sometimes just that memory would send a shiver through her whole body. Some how she knew that he was real, not just a part of a dream but really real, breathing and feeling. She didn't know how or why, but it was how she felt every time she woke up. The mystery man who came to her in her dreams always addressed her as Elisia and as he left he would wish her “sweet dreams on your pillow my heart” in his lovely deep voice. Ah, if only he would really come to her, sweep her off her feet with his touch and take her to always be with him, now that was a dream she hoped would come true. Last night she had heard a noise downstairs, she had rushed to the library, hoping her dream man would actually be there. She had no idea that she had in-fact just missed seeing him. After putting on a pale green dress and shoes to match, she glided down the stairs the way her mother had taught her. She looked at the doorway of the library wistfully before she went to the kitchen for some breakfast. “Good morning mother” she said as she sat at the table, bowed her head with an unspoken prayer and began to eat the eggs and bacon on her plate. Her mother, taking her own place at the table answered “Good morning to you Elle, did you sleep well?” “As well as I have for months now mother.” “Good, I worry about you having restless nights dear, a girl needs her proper rest.” Elle was finishing her glass of milk while listening to her mother. “Yes mother, may I be excused now? I would like to go to the library to read for a while.” “Yes, of course dear, oh, by the way, I'll be going to town to have lunch with your father.” “Alright mother, I'll be fine here with my book.” Elle walked along the bookshelves looking for something new to read when she noticed the volume with the dark mahogany spine oddly protruding slightly from the neat row. She started to push it back into proper alignment then impulsively she pulled it out and went to the wing back chair by the south window. The title “Indications of Multiple Realms, A Treatise on Dimensional Theory” seemed curious, her father had never mentioned this book to her. Her father had a deep interest in science and was always adding books on different disciplines to the library. She supposed that this must be one of his latest acquisitions. She opened the drapes of the window before settling into the comfort of a soft leather chair. She opened the book cover and skipped the slip page, wanting to read the title page, the spine and cover had not mentioned the author's name. “Indications of Multiple Realms, A Treatise on Dimensional Theory by Prince Airen MacCochraine. This book is dedicated to Elisia MacCochraine, my love and my life.” Elle blinked upon seeing the name from her recurring dream. She shut the book suddenly, turning in the chair to look out the window wanting to clear the strange thoughts that were now in her head. Slowly she settled back into the comfort of the chair and again opened the book, this time to the slip page. She was surprised to find an inscription, her eyes grew wide as she read; “My dearest and darling Elisia, I am coming for you. Soon we will be together again as it was before. All my love and devotion, Airen.” She noticed the post script written below the inscription. “ PS. You will know me when our fingers touch.” Elle pressed back into the chair, she blinked and read the inscription again half expecting to read that it was to her father, but it remained the same. She shut the book and set it on the table beside the chair, got up and hurried to the kitchen for a cup of tea and something to snack on later. She was going to need refreshments since she would be reading this book for the rest of the day. The pit of her stomach told her there was something rather magical about this book and she wanted to read every word of what the man, she felt deep in her heart was indeed the man always coming to her in her dreams, had written. She placed some biscuits on a plate, setting it on a small tray before pouring hot water from the kettle into the cup, she settled the tea infuser to the bottom and placed cup and saucer on the tray before placing the kettle back on the stove. A smile flickered across her lips as she carried the tray to the library, ready to settle in and have an interesting read. |