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Rated: 13+ · Novel · Fantasy · #1903668
The Masked Man leaves her uneasy and scared, what will happen when he comes to her rescue?
Chapter Two

Effects of Broken Glass


         “You have finally awoken child,” an unfamiliar voice says.

         I breathe heavily before I open my eyes. The first thing that catches my attention is the color of silver. The color is strange on its own because I do not remember silver being so enchanting. When I notice the staring glare of a women sitting at the corner of the bed, I immediately blush, fearing that she saw the wondering gaze I must have had regarding her hair.

          I then begin to study the features of this woman, who is positioned so far away. She is wearing a long washed out blue dress over her tiny frame. It is a sad color that matches her expression and a pang of concern washes over me as to why she appears so cheerless. She is so fragilely thin and tiny, she reminds me of a child. Her age however, is not that of a child. She looks like she is around her late thirties, and yet all of her hair has lost its color and turned into that beautiful shimmering blanket of silver, that is wondrously hanging lose and past her shoulders in length. I gander at her moments more and realize it suits her; it provides quite a transcendent, timeless, sort of uniqueness to her.

         “Miss are you alright?” she speaks with such a soothing and caring voice.

         “I feel okay,” I say feeling very comfortable around her. And I hope that I get to see her frequently, because her presence strangely puts me at ease, given that I have just met her, and I don’t even know her name.

         “You should! You have been sleeping for a week. Now come on and walk on over to the bath, I will tend to you after I finish with your bed.” She finishes with a smile. And I mentally bless her for not being a harsh and cruel old lady.

         And then I realize what she had said. “Wait a week! I have been sleeping for a week?” I shockingly say. Then that is when everything comes crashing down on me. All the questions start to fill in as I remember what happened to me, that I was in some kind of accident? That I do not remember anything at all and that a strange masked man called me his lover, how is that possible? That I could be someone’s…lover, I did not even see his face. My mind begins to consume itself with the possibility of beginning in love with such a character. As I get off the bed, I fall to the floor. The sliver haired woman rushes over and puts her hands under my arms to get me to stand again. She stays next to me, while I get to my feet to steady me.

         “Oh dear, I know, I know child, but unfortunately I am not to answer any of your questions.” She says while slowly navigating me to the bathroom.

         “Who said- “

         “The Master has forbidden me, so it’s best to save your breath and mind, and not ask anymore, okay sweet pea.”

         I hang my head in defeat and exhaustion from my anxiousness. And the silver haired woman begins to undress me. She discards my clothes into a basket next to a tiny wooden trash bin. I find myself staring at the clothes.

         “Was I found in those clothes? I mean, if you can answer that,” I add shyly.

         “A question like that I can answer,” she says with a smile. “No, unfortunately they are not, I discarded your clothes the same day we found you, because they were so torn and stained, I didn’t think you’d miss them.”

         “Stained?”

         “Well they were drenched with mud and blood Hun, quiet a lot of both actually, we didn’t know if it was yours or not, because you were mostly battered up and there was no external wound big enough for that much blood to-” The silver haired woman stops talking and looks at me in shock.“I wasn’t supposed to mention that!” she stammers. “Oh no, please pretend I didn’t just say that to you! Darling look, don’t worry all of those questions will be answered for you, and one of our doctors or healers will go through all of your injuries and check up on you to make sure you have healed through, okay?” she is looking desperately at me, and I notice we share the same petite height.“Now now! Get into the bath before it runs cold, I am going off to fetch you some clothes, please be careful and if you feel sick while I’m gone just call out to me okay?”

         “But I do not know your name,” I say.

         “Oh!” she laughs, I imagine at the lack of introduction. “My name is Ayola Heed, your personal High Chambermaid, and the Head Housekeeper. I will be personally attending to you while also attending to my job as the housekeeper,” she says proudly, and I admire the way she talks about herself.

         I am then left with nothing to say back because I do not know my name, and I find myself afraid to ask this time, so instead I say, “Pleased to meet you Ms. Heed, I am very grateful that you will be taking care of me, please be gentle and patient with me.” I finish with a smile.

         “Oh child no formalities with me, Just Ayola alright.” At that she leaves and I am left in the steaming bath, breathing in the vapor of the hot water, and allowing my mind to drift off into nothingness, because I am afraid to ponder in the empty shell that is my mind. Then I realize how sore and painful my body is, and I look to see that interestingly I have mostly bruises on my abdomen and arms. With addition to a gash on my lower back that runs about a foot long past my tail bone, and there is some panic in me as to what caused such a large wound. So I try to breathe away my alarm and tell myself that everything will be fine, that is will all be explained to me. It is okay.

         Ayola comes back a few minutes later and finds that I had fallen sleep in the bath. She gives me a small talk on how I could have easily slipped under water and drowned myself, and she even scorns herself for leaving me alone in my condition. As she helps me out and pat dries me, she informs me that I will be having lunch with the Master, and that possibly I will be spending the day with him as it seems that we have a lot to talk about. My stomach becomes restless at the thought of meeting with the master, and I am hoping he is not the masked man I met when I first awoke.

         Ayola takes me back into the room to dress. She has chosen a very beautiful white dress that has lace stitching; the straps come down to hug my shoulders so that my collar bone and chest are visible. The dress then fans out and ends just below my knees.

         “My my, that just fits you beautifully Miss.” Ayola says cheerfully and I notice all of her sadness before is gone, or she has just masked it away. “Let me get you a mirror you must see yourself!”

         Ayola leaves the room to fetch the mirror, and I take the opportunity to look around the room. My eyes are led to the massively opened window that is overlooking a beautiful meadow filled with a different variety of flowers, and I make a mental note of visiting it. As I continue on, I find that there are lots of decorative objects like pillows, shawls, drapes, carpets, and rugs that are scattered all around the room. Strangely though, everything seems to be in the shade of white or a light color like cream, an aspect that I appreciate because I find myself to be fond of the color white. The room overall looks soft and comforting, and I realize that I have found some part of me in this room, I feel comfortable just as I do with Ayola, and I hope that the rest of my findings will affect me just as positively as they did.

         As I continue to wait for Ayola, I walk over to the window and close its glass door just halfway to cut off some of the cool breeze; and I catch the reflection of my face in the glass. I stare at it in awe. I stare at my features one at a time and take in my appearance. It is so strange, I think to myself. It is like a stranger is staring back at me. I look at my hair and notice that I have bangs. As I pull the short little hairs out and let them fall over my forehead, I note that my hair is a rich honey brown color that falls in waves down my back almost reaching my waist. I do not know what I think about the length, but I will keep it for now, and I decide that I like the bangs. And as I run my hands through my scalp I am startled to find a bump in the back of my head that hurts when I gently pass my fingers over it. Again I let it go with a inhale of breath, telling myself things will be okay and that they will get better. I then look at my eyes, big brown eyes. And I see just how thin, tried, and pale I come across, compared to the cream colored complexion I must have had before. I appear really young I think to myself, and I wonder exactly how old am I. For fun, I end up guessing, fifteen to sixteen.

         Just as I start to examine my hands and feet, I hear a loud shattering crash outside the door. I run quickly, ignoring my instantaneous headache and body pains, because I know that it is Ayola outside with the now broken mirror. When I open the door and step out, a sharp and burning pain shoots up my legs. When I look down I see that I have stepped right into shards of glass, and a little puddle of blood starts forming at my feet.

         “Miss- Oh dear!” Ayola gasps in shock. “Please do not move an inch, I will go-”

         Just as Ayola turns around she smashes with a thud right into the huge chest of someone in black. And I hold my breath as I hear the glass move around Ayola’s feet.

         “Who’s bleeding,” it is the deep assertive voice I heard that night, and I feel the hairs on my back stand on end. How did he possibly get here so quickly I think to myself.

         “Master Alexander, please forgive my misfortune, our lady has been injured by the broken glass.” Ayola has composed herself now and is speaking in a serious monotone voice.

         The Masked Man, now Master Alexander, is wearing the same strange mask as the night I first awoke. Though today, he is wearing similar black clothes with high black boots, and the addition of a shimmering cloak of the same dark color.

         The Master begins to make his way to me, and I cannot help the need to tell him to stay away. He then holds out his hands and in one swift motion he has picked me up into his arms. I feel some of the glass shards fall off from my feet, but there are others that have penetrated well into the bottom of them, and I wince from the pain caused by the pounding skin around the wounds. I even feel blood dripping down from the deep cuts, and my stomach rolls when I picture how my mangled feet must be.

         “Ayola clean this immediately,” Master Alexander barks as he leads me away into the hall. I manage to take one last glance at Ayola; she just stands there in the middle of the hall looking more broken than the shattered glass around her. I mouth to her an apology, then finally showing some emotion she smiles and gives a shake of the head as if to say “No, I am sorry.”

         My attention is then directed to Master Alexander; I stare up at him and notice how tall he actually is. I seem to tower over the floor in his arms. I look out into the hall and see that it appears endless. There are doors on each side. Countless doors, every ten feet away from each other, and I wonder where exactly am I?

          When we finally get to the end of the hall, Alexander opens the door to the left with his right hand, while impressively balancing me against his chest with the other. When we enter I am confused to see that it is another hall. Though it is not as long as the one we walked down from, and at the end of this one it opens up into a spacious room. We do not go into to the room, but instead he opens a door to the right. When we walk in, I see the massive room with a magnificent wall made of glass that looks out onto the beautiful meadow of flowers that I saw when I intended to close the window in the previous room. This room is not crowed with furniture despite its potential size, it only consists of a large round white cushion couch in the center of the room, maybe used to admire the view, but other than that, only table stands and vases decorate the remainder of the room.

         Master Alexander sets me down carefully in the white cushion couch and I take in the magnificent view of the rich meadow, only wanting so badly to be able to run through it without a single worry or doubt.

         “Did not someone tell you the dangers of broken glass?” Master Alexander asks while holding out his gloved hand.

         Not knowing what he wants I put my hand in his and he lets out a chuckle. “I find your hands very lovely, but that is not what I want.”

         The Master gets down on his knees and eyes my pounding feet. I look at them and realize they have doubled in size and have turned extremely pale and lifeless.

         “Usually people would be taken to the healers when they are hurt or sick, but anything concerning you, I would like to take care of personally.” His words are said with an eerie intensity.

         “I would like the healers,” I blurt out.

         The Master stares at me without moving, and I know I have offended him, but honestly I did not want him attending to me, despite his acts of composed generosity; because ever since I met him, nothing seemed right when it concerned him.

         “Are we having a disagreement then?” he asks, and I cannot tell if he is angry or disappointed.

         “I just…I do not want to inconvenience you Master-”

         “Don’t call me Master sweetheart, not you,” he says this like if the word Master discomforts him. “It is Alexander alright. I know it seems troubling, but I just cannot have you call me that with such formality, that is left for nobodies and annoyingly inconvenient servants.”

          I am stunned at the way he spoke, and I did not like the way he referred to Ayola. He might be the Master, but he has no right to be talking that way about the people, who I imagine work day in and day out for him and his house. I then thought of poor Ayola left to clean the broken glass from the mirror she went out of her way to get for me, and I long to be in her motherly presence again.
Alexander notices my prolonged silence and says, “Look, I know you must be confused, that you might be distrustful of me, but I assure you are in good hands. No one, absolutely no one will hurt you, I will make sure of that.” Then he adds, “You trusted me before.”

         I stare down at the man in the mask and I wish that if only I could see his face, if only his face could answer the uncertainties that I have about him. If I were to really see him, could I be able to better understand if his intentions are sincere or deceiving?

         “I am sorry,” I whisper, “but I do not remember.”

         “And that is unfortunate,” he whispers back.

         I peer out the window and see that a wind has started up causing an array of different colored petals to dance in the air; I then decide that now is the opportunity to ask the questions that have been consuming me since I awoke.

         “I need answers,” I say.

         Alexander stays still and quiet for a while and I quickly become impatient at his unconcern over my question.

         “If you do not answer my questions... I will not allow you to care for me,” I boldly say, and I am suddenly afraid of what Alexander would do if I refuse to go along with his orders.

         “And how would you go upon doing that may I ask?” he says coldly.

         I stay quiet knowing that I have challenged him. I have no idea what he is capable of and I realize if I continue in this route; I will not be getting any answers.

         “You have no response then?” he asks and there seems to be a hint of victory in his voice.

         Instead of responding I take a deep breath to calm myself and I wince from the pain of my injuries.

         Alexander chuckles and stands “Your manner has not changed I see, you still act the same,” He finds a spot next to me on the couch, and proceeds to take my feet and places them on his lap, “Adorably stubborn.”

         I let out a squeal of pain as I feel the embedded glass shift inside my skin.

         “Sorry,” Alexander breaths. He then begins to remove his gloves, and I quickly put my hands on his.

         “My name,” I say staring straight at his masked face, deciding that I must not give in so easily and that I at least have the right to get answers.

         “Muliere,” Alexander answers while batting my hands away and continuing to remove his other glove, revealing his hands that are large and rough and incredibly pale.

         He then goes on to put his hands on the soles of my tingling numb feet and a surge of warmth begins to radiate from them. I breath out slowly, relaxed by the warm hum feeling that is being directed towards my feet, then unexpectedly I feel something slide out of them and I scrunch my face as I try not to squeal.

         “Cute expression,” I hear Alexander say.

         I shoot my eyes open and notice Alexander no longer has his hands against my feet, but instead they are on my lap. His hands are bloody and a pile of glass shards sit on the center of them, like some sort of small crystal mountain that has been rained on by blood. And I cannot help the surprised expression that forms on my face.

         “Well I hope an accident like this does not occur again, Lottie Muliere” He says while my shocked expression continues to be displayed on my face.

         I am eerily convinced Alexander has magically removed the glass shards from my feet, and I quickly take my right foot in my hand and I am amazed that they seem perfectly fine! They are smooth and in one piece. There are no cuts, or scars, or bruises. No sign at all that I had just stepped on broken glass that produced large deep cuts. I inspect my other foot to see that it is also in the same smooth perfect condition.

         “I do not know about you, but I think that they look lovely.” He says.

         “A wizard,” I whisper, very aware of the existence of magic, but no memory of ever meeting a wizard.

         “Yes, a very high ranking one in fact.” Alexander stands, bows and introduces himself, “Alexander, High Warlock of the Crescent Region, I am very pleased to make your acquaintance Lottie Muliere.” He takes my hand in his and lifts it to his forehead and leaves it there for a moment before letting it go, noting the fact that he could not kiss it because of his mask.

         I then realize the name, it was the second time I heard it.

         “Lottie Muliere,” I say almost to myself.

         It is my name.

         I finally find out something about myself and it feels as if I unlocked something from a puzzle. Even though it is a small piece of information, it seems to impact my mind in an enormous way. The insanely amount of questions that form in my head are monstrous. I feel as if I will explode, and in despair I put my hands in my face and take deep breaths.

         As if he knows what I am feeling Alexander says, “I will not give you your life story in one sitting, because it will drive you to a state of shock and create a profound amount of unneeded stress. But Lottie…”

         I refuse to meet his gaze while he speaks. These feelings I realize, of running away and fearing him, are they really related to him as a person? I run through all my situations with him, the little conversations that we have had. He has been generous and patient I realize, he has seemed concerned and genuinely worried about me, but he has also shown a cold and distant side. Or is it the fact that he holds all the answers that scares me? Answers… what could have possibly happened to me to result in memory loss? And why is it that I have to hear the answers from him?

         I try and try and try but there is nothing! No memories, just blackness endless blackness and I become increasingly flustered and aggravated out of desperation. Why! Why? Why!

         “Lottie, look at me,” Alexander coldly commands. Then he puts his hand on my thigh and then on my hands that are still on my face.

         “Lottie would you please look at me,” he says softly this time.

         I breathe in and slowly let my hands fall from my face.

         “Do you understand?” I say, feeling as if I have snapped, “I wake up with nothing and I see strange people and things. I see you… you, a masked man in black. I wake up and you are the person who is next to me. Are you the one who is supposed to take me in and mend me back together? The one who shows me who I was and helps me see who I am?” I am sobbing and screaming now, but I do not stop. “Do you understand how it feels to be lost and cold and lonely? To have someone care for you and claim that they know you, but having no feelings at all concerning them? There is no love or hate, but fear in me! ” Tears like ice run down my cheeks in a never ending stream and I run over to the massive glass window and look out into the meadow. I am surprised that I have lashed out like this. Have I really been feeling this swarmed and upset? Have I not been telling myself that it will be okay? I put my hands against the cold hard glass and my emotions begin circling inside me like some ravage storm. I am confused, I do not know if I want my memories or not I realize.

         Calmly I begin, “Is it possible to lose something, and wish it will never be found to keep you from reliving that happiness again, because if you find it, you will realize you will never be as happy as you were when you first had it?”

         “Happiness, Lottie what are you talking about?” I hear Alexander say.

         “Was I happy?” I say, while looking out at the meadow. “Do you know my greatest moments, were they blissful or tragic? Were they spent with someone, where they spent with you?” I look at him and I feel how weak I have just become. In this massive room it is greatly intensified how different the man that stands before me and I are. He radiates an eerie patience and powerful aura, while I radiate of a distraught and miniscule being.

         “Am I really your lover, am I someone important to you!” I cry and fall to my knees, frustrated with myself, with this situation, and I see Alexander quickly make his way to me. And I immediately feel myself in his arms. He has me cradled in his chest while he sits on the floor. I let myself mold into him and I cry loudly and passionately with my arms around his neck because he is the only solid thing there preventing me from falling. It is incredible how unraveled I have become, not knowing how much I have left to discover and accept about my life. And I wonder if these tears belong to the memories before my accident.

         As I cry Alexander’s grip around my waist tightens as I let out every sob and weep, and his body becomes increasingly warm and he feels like a blanket warming and filling me with comfort. And when I breathe in I smell the faint smell of flower petals and earth, and it feels as if we are outside in the middle of the magnificent meadow just outside these walls. The only sound I hear is the quiet beat of Alexander’s heart and the faint sound of a breeze.

         Suddenly, I feel air brush the exposed layers of my skin and I open my eyes to see the pale blue of the afternoon sky and the rich green grass at my feet. I look past Alexander’s shoulders, with my arms still around his neck, to see the array of flowers all around us. I feel one last tear fall before I hear his voice intensely soft in my ear.

         “I couldn’t stand the want in your eyes for this place, when you looked at it from the window, because I wanted to see that in your eyes when you looked at me.”

         Alexander’s words cause goose bumps to crawl all over me, and I feel the blush in my face. I am surprised that I could react this way about him, when I feared him just moments before. I let my hands drop from his neck and I position myself so that I am face to face with him. And as I take in his masked face a sense of recognition washes over me, and as quickly as it came, it is gone.

         “At least your body remembers me,” Alexander says while putting his finger under my chin for a moment before letting it fall.

         I rapidly feel the hot blush in my cheeks return, and I quickly turn my face away from his hoping he did not see the reaction I had to his words. Alexander then takes my hand and puts it on my chest above my heart.

         “I am the only one who can make your heart beat so rapidly Lottie, and know that it is not out of fear, but of something good and pure.”

         Each word that he said was imprinted in my mind, and I knew they were said with intense sincerity, and I wonder if one day I will be able to beat along with the heart that is beating for him right now.

         I am left with no words to say to him, because it was meant to assure me. So I nod and gaze out into the meadow. My hand that was placed on my heart now returned to my side.

         “Thank you,” I say shyly, “for bringing me here.”

         “It’s what you wanted.” He responds. And we sit there together for a moment in silence.

         I feel myself relaxing and becoming more at ease with myself, compared to what I was feeling just moments ago. Which I still do not know what came over me so suddenly to explode in that way. Now I feel embarrassed.

         “Go on and pick some,” he finally says. “You are the only one who can take them without hurting the meadow.”

         “What?” I say confused.

         “I made it that way, the meadow, it only flourishes when you’re here,” he says.

         At this I smile, not sure if it is true or not, but the aspect of it is heartwarming. That somehow I have something to do with the meadows beauty.

         As we both stand, I look up at him and I finally see how we compare to each other in height. He towers a good foot over me and I decide he must be six feet tall or taller! His hand on my head distracts me from my thoughts.

         “You never answered my question,” I say.

         “What question?” he says in his steady deep voice.

         “Am I your lover?”

         Alexander then bends over and picks a tiny pink daisy from the ground and keeps it in his hand, I look at its delicate feature and suddenly notice that the flower is slowly dying and shriveling.

         “Take it.” He says while handing it to me

         I gently take the tiny lifeless flower, saddened by its quick death, but suddenly just as I hold it, it steadily begins to grow and its previous hue returns more vibrant and lively then before. As I examine the revived flower in my hand it appears to be larger than it did when Alexander picked it, and much more beautiful in its splendor.

         “It only flourishes with you,” Alexander reminds me.

         “But-” I say, wanting him to answer my question.

         “Lottie, I am only yours,” he says, “and you are mine.”

         The intensity in which he responds my question is undeniable, and I am left strangely at ease with his answer, because now I know something important about him. And I smile at the thought of how quickly I let my guard fall around him. Was it because I became so vulnerable? Or is it my past memories reaching out for him? I look at him and I feel myself tilt my head to the side taking in his appearance, his presence, and I still feel some sort of fear? Discomfort? No, he somehow gives me some type of comfort, I cannot quite place what I feel, but the impulse of fleeing at the sight of him has gone. And I happily take that as a sign of progression.

         “Alexander,” I begin.

         “Yes sweetheart.”

         “Wh- what exactly happened to me?”

         I hear Alexander sigh and then he bends down again to pick another flower, this time it is a beautiful blue tulip and it immediately starts to wither in his hand, he looks over at me and gives me the flower.

         “I don’t know Lottie,” he says while his masked face is fixed on the reviving flower in my hand, and I am again in awe as how the flower becomes larger, richer, and more precious. I happily put it in my other hand and pair it with the pink daisy that he gave me before.

         “One minute you’re there, so beautiful, smiling and dancing like you always did, and the next minute you were gone. I didn’t understand how you could have disappeared so fast, and I searched immediately for you Lottie, for hours.” Alexander’s voice beomes more intense as he goes on. “I did everything, sent out search parties, cast spells to find you, but nothing. As if you disappeared off the face of the earth. Finally though, my men find you, and I’m so angry with myself because it wasn’t me, but they find you. And when I saw you Lottie, you were just covered in blood, so much damn blood, and-” Alexander stops and looks at me.

         “I thought of ending myself right then and there, if you weren’t alive sweetheart. Those seconds of not knowing, if you were dead or alive, were the worst of my life.”

         I let my head fall and try to remember that night, but it is no use. It is like my mind refuses to go back in time, and I just find myself here in this moment, with memories only of the night I awoke and today.

         I then feel the need to comfort Alexander, because it seems that just by remembering the night discomforts him and I can feel the saddening desperation radiating from him. So I take his gloved hand in mine and I give a little squeeze of reassurance.

         “I am here now,” I say with a small smile.

         I see Alexander look at our joined hands and I feel him give a small squeeze back.

         “And that is all that matters yes?” he says, redirecting his gaze at me.

          “Yes,” I mange to say, not really understanding his question, but willing to give him some comfort as an act of gratefulness for the comfort he gave me.

         “Well concerning today’s events,” he says, “I think it would be best if you retire to your room for the rest of the day. I don’t want to expose you to anything else for now. Do you agree?”

         I nod in agreement, but I am slightly reluctant to accept that my room and the garden will be the only things I see today. That Ayola and Alexander are the only people I will meet, and that the only things I have learned are my name, that I am something important to Alexander, that he is a warlock of the, Crescent Region was it? And that I disappeared suddenly and was found mysteriously hurt.

         “Come on then, I will return you to your room.”

         “Alexander, can I pick more flowers before we go?” I could not help but ask.

         I hear Alexander chuckle. “My, you really haven’t changed,” he says while stroking my head then giving me a nod of approval.

         I take a step then turn to look back at him. He is such a mystery I think. How did we meet I wonder. How is it that I came to be here, with a tall, mysterious, masked man in black?

         Here.

         I take a look around and I see that the meadow luckily expands for miles, and joy explodes inside me suddenly just knowing that I have something so beautiful to explore. I keep looking and see an average large tree some feet away and opposite the tree, west, there is a massive castle! My breath catches in my mouth.

         “Do we live there?!” I ask in total awe. I could not believe that I did not notice such an enormous place before!

         “Yes, that’s home,” I hear Alexander say in a soft voice.

         “Home,” I whisper. The word home did not seem to fit with such a structure. It is like the only people who would seem to fit in such a place would be royalty! I look at is exterior and It is unbelievable how big it is, and how… black and odd it is. The castle, because I cannot call it any other name, appears to tower all the way to the sky, since I can actually see clouds crash into its walls! Though it is not as wide as it is tall, it still has a decent width as it stretches about a third of the meadow. The color though is strange as is its shape. The castle is black, but I cannot quite tell what it is made of, because it appears to… shine. Not like crystals, but of how a polished stone would shine. The structure is precisely angled and shaped, almost as if it was built angry, and yet it feels familiar.

         “But, it is so big!!” I say the sound of wonder still in my voice.

         “It was built a long time ago,” he says, “I was greedy back then.” And this time I notice his voice seems distant, detached. And I can feel him stand there in an eerie silence.

         I glance back at Alexander and see him start to shift in place. Is he uncomfortable?

         I decide to leave the questions about the castles origin to Ayola, hoping it will lead her to answer other questions I have in mind as well.

         “I will go get the flowers then,” I say, still in a good mood, but wanting to take off some of the sudden change of tone caused by Alexander.

          I practically skip around the meadow picking the most beautiful ones, which is not an easy task, because they all seem to be in such stunning condition. The variety of colors and textures seem endless, and I am lost in the moment of complete bliss caused by them.

         When I return to where Alexander is waiting for me, he quietly stands there, staring down at me and I quickly become uneasy with his silence.

         “Is there something wrong?” I finally ask quietly, while tightly holding onto the wild bouquet of flowers.

         There is a moment of silence before he answers, “Just enjoying your returned presence that’s all, Shall we go then?”

         Again I give another nod of agreement, and he comes toward me.

         “Would you mind if we embrace again?” He asks.

         I am caught off guard by what he has asked, though in response, I close the space between us, and place my cheek on his chest while holding the flowers in my hands. Then I feel Alexander place his arms around me and gently hugs me closer to him. I feel him lower his head down to mine.

         “I’m sorry for the unpleasant situations today, Lottie.” His voice muffled by my hair. “I wish things didn’t have to be this way for you, it’s not fair.” I feel Alexander tighten his hold on me, and I close my eyes to the sudden threatening tears, what was left of my joyfulness is now gone. “I know how you feel sweetheart. No one has ever been as lost and confused as I have, am. But I need you to be strong, for me, and you, yes? Because it’s not going to be easy.” I then feel Alexander place a kiss on top of my head, and I no longer feel the breeze of the meadow, or the smell of the flowers.

         When I open my eyes, the meadow is gone, and so is he.

          I look around and see that I am in my room, alone. I take the flowers in my hands, and hold them close, I cry as I breathe in their scent.

To be continued in Chapter Three: Darkness Falls

© Copyright 2012 Charlie Florence (dontgogental at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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