A Red Rose (part 2)

An old story, written a very long time ago. Published for the Repository, so that I can collect all the old writing in one place. Sequel to A White Rose.

You can read Part 1 here.

Ereptus looked at the sleeping form in the bed from where he sat on a chair by the window. She was in an uneasy sleep, tossing and turning, now and then mumbling something under her breath. As if bewitched he stood up and walked over to the bed to get a better look at her. He hunched down by her side, stroking an errant lock of hair away from her fair brow. She was so beautiful that it almost hurt him to look at her. He couldn’t help but wonder how he had ever been able to leave her all those years ago. But of course, she’d only been a teenager, even if she had already shown the promise of the beauty she had become.

Suddenly she sat up, still half asleep, looking around the room with sleepy, yellowish eyes.

“Ereptus?” she mumbled.

“I’m still here, pet,” he said softly, stroking her cheek with his hand.

She seemed to accept that and settled back down, a soft smile on her lips as she went back to sleep. Ereptus watched her while she slept, his mind trying to figure out what was going on. He’d returned because of what he had explained away as a nightmare, but he’d come just in time to save her from some thugs planning on taking her to someone. He simply couldn’t figure out to whom; the young woman in the bed didn’t look like she could have any enemies.

After some time he finally gave up and settled down in a corner of her room, leaning against the wall to get a few hours of sleep before dawn.

***** Continue reading

A Red Rose (part 1)

An old story, written a very long time ago. Published for the Repository, so that I can collect all the old writing in one place. Sequel to A White Rose.

A dark shadow bent over the sleeping form of a young girl in bed, stroking away an errant lock of hair from her delicate brow. The girl was beautiful, looking restful in her sleep, unaware of the visitor in her simple room. Her skin was fair, with only a slight hint of a tan, a mass of tangled walnut brown hair spread out around her head on the bed. High cheekbones, a small, straight nose and arched eyebrows gave her an almost divine look, all perfect in its innocence. Slightly slanted eyes and pointed ears bore sign of her elfin heritage. A soft smile curled her lips as she dreamed of something undoubtedly pleasant.

The dark shadow carefully pulled the blanket down, revealing a pair of slender shoulders, and then put a hand inside its large cloak. The girl in the bed sighed in her sleep, causing the dark shadow to still for a moment, waiting to see if she would wake, but the girl remained asleep. Slowly the shadow withdrew a thin dagger from its robe and moved it toward the girl’s slender throat. The tip of the dagger came to rest against her neck, moving along her throat, almost caressing, without piercing the delicate skin.

Dark eyelashes fluttered over the girl’s cheek, and slowly she started to wake. Light green eyes, so pale they seemed yellow, widened as she spotted the intruder. Her mouth opened to scream, but was cut short as the lethal tip of the dagger struck down to draw blood.

With a start Ereptus jerked awake. The small room he’d taken at a local inn seemed to close in on him for a moment, until he was entirely awake. Shaking, he sat up and looked around. The room looked just as it had when he had gone to sleep; simple with a sturdy bed and a little cupboard with a washbowl on top. It was only a dream, yet it had seemed so real.

He ran a hand through his dark hair, vaguely registering that he’d been sweating, and stood to pace the small space of the room. There wasn’t an ounce of magic in his entire being. He was a simple soul living a rogue’s life. Yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had just had a premonition. He had been away too long. It was time for him to go back and face his inner demons. If for no other reason than to see her and make sure that she was still alive and well.

Although the sun had not yet shown its golden face Ereptus got dressed, packed his few belongings and left the inn. He stole a horse on a small farm outside the city and started his journey towards the city of Messina where he had once left the girl. He could only hope that she was still there. After all, it had been three years since he had last seen her.

***** Continue reading

Silence

An old poem, written a very long time ago. Published for the Repository, so that I can collect all the old writing in one place.

 

The silence greets my words,
I wait, but there is no sound but your breathing.

Tears are trickling down my cheek,
I turn around to hide them from your sight.

The silence is tearing at me,
crushing my heart beneath its weight.

Why aren’t you speaking to me?
What did I do wrong?

All I did was say ‘I love you’…

A White Rose (part 3)

An old story, written a very long time ago. Published for the Repository, so that I can collect all the old writing in one place.

You can read Part 2 here.

They rode out of town early the next morning. The sun had only just started to show its face, and Rain was so tired that she couldn’t be bothered to keep her distance from Ereptus, but shamelessly used his back as a pillow, and almost fell asleep leaning against it. For once they rode in companionable silence, and Rain felt more at ease than she had during her whole life. She wasn’t sure when it had happened, but for some reason she trusted Ereptus.

“Tell me about your life,” she suddenly blurted out.

“What?” Ereptus seemed surprised.

“Tell me about your life,” she repeated. “Why did you become a thief?”

Ereptus seemed uncomfortable with the subject. “It wasn’t a choice really, it was the only way to survive.”

That surprised her. “Why?” she asked.

“Like you I once lived on the streets,” he told her. “Well, I still do in a way. Only now I steal enough to rent a room for the night most of the time.”

“And to buy fancy clothes,” Rain pointed out, tugging lightly on his fine tunic. “I never would have guessed from the way you dress that you don’t have a home.”

“That’s the point,” Ereptus confessed. “Dressed like I am, I can easily get into the nicer inns and talk to the wealthy people. That’s the way to make easy money. I don’t steal enough to save up, just to live a comfortable life.”

“That sounds nice,” Rain sighed.

“You’re not going to end up like me!” Ereptus snapped, which made her almost jump right off the horse. Peeves peeked out of her tunic, hissing and growling at Ereptus.

Continue reading

A White Rose (part 2)

An old story, written a very long time ago. Published for the Repository, so that I can collect all the old writing in one place.

You can read Part 1 here.

Rain gazed at the man who was readying the horse. She didn’t trust him. Not that she particularly trusted anyone, but this man made her nervous. His eyes were dark, almost black, and she hadn’t been able to see any feelings displayed in them. He was a handsome man, she couldn’t deny that, tall and slim, without being skinny. A day’s growth darkened his square jaw, and dark hair fell to his shoulders, curling slightly at the collar of his tunic.

Dressed all in black he didn’t look like someone you could trust. He was cleaner than most men she’d encountered in the city, but who ever said cleanliness meant you were a good man? Her father had been clean, and he’d been as mean as they come. She shuddered slightly at the memory of her father. It was a time of her life she’d just as soon forget.

Ereptus had finished with the horse and mounted, motioning for her to join him. She walked over to the horse, and Ereptus took her arm and pulled her up behind him, as if she weighed no more than a toddler. They soon took off, and Rain had to grab hold of Ereptus’ tunic as to not fall off the horse. Peeves were complaining a little bit inside her tunic until he settled himself in a spot where he wasn’t squeezed between her and Ereptus.

She’d told herself that she wasn’t going to speak, but she soon grew bored. The previous day she’d still been seething with anger about being forced out of the city where she thought she’d made an acceptable life for herself. Although she liked Gaylen, she was angry about the highhanded way he’d decided that she should be taken away without consulting her first.

“Ereptus?” she said, her voice hesitant.

“Yes?”

“What is this place like?”

“This place,” Ereptus said. “Is called Messina.”

“Fine,” Rain grumbled. “What is Messina like?”

“It’s the capital of Erya, and the seat of the Council and High King. Probably the most peaceful city in our lands because of the Kingsguard and Peacekeepers. You’ll be safe there, it’s not like the city you’re used to.”

“I was safe where I was,” Rain huffed. “Despite what you think, I am fully capable of taking care of myself. I have done for years!”

“You’re a child”, he replied dismissively, making her grind her teeth in anger.

“I’m not a child!” she snapped. “And even if I was, you were once a child living on the streets, and you’re still alive.”

Continue reading

A White Rose (part 1)

An old story, written a very long time ago. Published for the Repository, so that I can collect all the old writing in one place.

The sun’s last beams gave the old city a warm glow, but that didn’t make Ereptus feel any more comfortable. He’d left the city years ago, to never return, but now he’d felt obligated to come back. An old friend had asked him to, and since Ereptus owed him his life, he couldn’t ignore the summon when it had come.

Few people were still outside, so Ereptus could easily walk down the streets and alleys without being seen. He didn’t want to bump into any of the people he’d had time to upset while he lived there. Walking down a back alley he heard some muffled shouts and the sounds of a subdued fight. Against better judgment he turned towards the noise and saw two men who were attacking a young girl. The girl was skinny, but she fought well.

Normally Ereptus would just leave the scene. He’d made a habit of staying out of other people’s business, but something about the girl’s desperate, yet futile, resistance made him step closer. The girl caught sight of him then, in between kicking one of the men in the groin, and grabbing the other’s hair making him scream. Ereptus froze.

The girl must be young, not a day over fifteen, but probably younger still. What caught him most by surprise though were her eyes. They were a pale green, so pale that they seemed more yellow than green. He’d never seen such eyes before and they completely captivated him.

Then the moment of stillness was over; both men had recovered from their current states and were advancing on the girl again. Ereptus then did something he’d never done before. He stepped in to help the girl. With a few swift movements, he had the two men unconscious on the ground. One didn’t spend a whole life living on the streets without acquiring some useful tricks.

Continue reading

Day of Fare Well

An old story, written a very long time ago. Published for the Repository, so that I can collect all the old writing in one place.

It was a dull and grey day with rain pelting the large windows of the spacious country house. Apart from the smattering of the rain the villa seemed eerily quiet and subdued with not a single light lit. Sara felt cold and slightly uncomfortable where she was standing in the hall with her back towards the living room. Without having looked she knew that her parents would be on opposite sides of the house; they had been for several days now. Rather than seeking each other’s comfort they had secluded themselves in their own misery.

Looking to the tall, blond man at her side Sara made a nod towards one side of the house.

“My mother will be there,” she said quietly. It felt odd to speak when the house was so quiet, as if she was disturbing a sacred realm of silence.

The man who had not left her side the past few days nodded.

“You know what you must do,” he said. “I will leave you now.”

Overwhelmed by a sudden fear of being left alone Sara turned her head sharply and screamed. “No! Don’t leave me! Did you hear me? I said no!”

She tried to grab hold of him but he had already catapulted out of reality, leaving her alone in the chilly hall. For the past few days he had not left her side and it felt as if a part of her had disappeared with him. Rubbing the cold skin on her arm she hesitantly started to walk towards the bedroom where she knew that her mother would be.

In the bedroom her mother was sitting on the bed propped up against the headboard. Her face was devoid of make-up and her hair hadn’t been washed for several days. A half empty box of tissues was lying on the bed next to her, and a photo frame was lying on the floor with its face down, having been dropped as her mother nodded off. Even unwashed and with the obvious streaks from tears on her face one could see that the woman on the bed was attractive. She looked restful in her slumber, but there was no mistaking the sadness in her features.

Sara knelt to pick up the photo frame on the floor. Taking a look at it she found that it was a picture of the family taken last summer when they had visited the Grand Canyon. Her parents looked very happy and very much in love, both holding an arm around Sara who was standing in the middle. Placing the photo frame gently in her mother’s lap Sara leaned forward and kissed her softly on the cheek.

“Everything will be all right,” she promised in a whisper.

Her mother shifted restlessly in her sleep, but as her hand found the photo frame she settled down again. Sara quietly left the room.

Making her way across the house she avoided the living room and went to her father’s study. As she had expected her father was sitting behind his desk with his elbows propped on the surface and his face buried in his hands. A glass and an almost empty bottle of brandy were the only things on the desk, everything else had been shoved off in a fit of temper and was lying scattered on the floor.
Her father had always been a handsome man, but it almost seemed as if his salt and pepper hair had turned more salt than pepper in the past few days. Sara moved silently to her father’s side and touched his shoulder gently, but he didn’t react. Leaning closer Sara whispered in his ear.

“Don’t worry. Everything is fine,” she breathed softly. “Take care of mom, she needs you. And you need her. Don’t forget that.”

As her father stirred slightly Sara moved away, but he didn’t make any sign of having heard her. Then he stood up and ran a hand through his ruffled hair, looking sadly out the door towards the other side of the house. Sara took a few steps further away as he moved around the desk and started walking. Following him silently across the house Sara watched as he stopped for a second to glance into the living room before he continued to the bedroom at the end of the hall. Sara stood quietly by the entrance to the living room and watched as her father tenderly roused her mother from her sleep.
The two adults looked at each other for a moment in silence and then embraced, holding on as if they would never again let go. Sara felt a little warmer, the house was finally coming back to life. Turning to the living room she went inside and continued to the room’s current main feature.

The open mahogany casket was placed in the middle of the room and was flanked by two large flower wreaths. Sara looked at her own pale form lying inside the casket and felt a small stab of pain at having to leave this world. Yet she was grateful that her many months of pain were finally over, and her parents had finally found their way back to each other.

“Are you ready?” The tall man who had stood guard by her bed as her life slipped away had returned to stand by her side before the casket.

Sara nodded and took the man’s offered hand. As he closed his fingers around hers she felt an odd tingling in her body as the world around her began to dissolve for another kind of reality.

The Repository

Posts marked as Repository are old stories and poems that I’m putting on here for safekeeping. One of my hard drives blew up, and I lost most of my old stories. Fortunately a friend had copies of some, and I found another few on an old website. As I go through them and format them I will be dumping them on here.

They’re nearly all written when I was a teenager, so my writing isn’t the best (then again, it still isn’t, I’m always working on getting better), but you’re all welcome to read them.

I have made a page on the site, also called Repository, where I will link to each new post in the category so that they’ll be easy to find. There I will also put a tiny bit of information about the story.