Don't Look Back - A Sneak Peak at The Ever-Three

I know that this is right on top of another story post, and I apologize for my lack of creativity at present. I just ended a week of hardcore business with a bad lack of sleep, so my brain is just wanting to post the easiest and most close to complete post in my workbox. But, that being said, I did at least polish it up for you guys because I only want to give you my lovely audience the best posts I can (...even when it's only the best of my busy, half-awake posts).
This particular story snippet is a sneak-peek at The Second Brother's sequel, The Ever-Three. This is the book's beginning. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! :)

***

           Dulcilla glanced back anxiously, her heart beating madly as she ran. Her friend, a dark-haired man, was running behind her a little ways, leading a small pony. Dulcilla breathed in relief. Good. He made it... He was safe... mostly. A limp slowed his movement, but he nonetheless soon caught up to Dulcilla.

            He handed the pony's reins to Dulcilla, continuing to run at her side. "Here," he spoke urgently. "Mount as soon as you're far enough away and then ride to where it's safe. You know where"

           Dulcilla's eyes flew to his limping foot. Oh no..."You're hurt... How will you run all that way...?" She placed a hand over her mouth in horror, realizing there was no way he could. "We've got to mount now!"

            He shook his head. "If we mount now, then we'll be spotted and caught easily. We have to wait until we get to the mountains" He gave Dulcilla a small smile. "I'll be fine"

            Dulcilla searched his face worriedly. After a moment, she hesitantly nodded. She trusted him at least this much...

            Suddenly a shout sounded from a ways off. Dulcilla's companion flicked his head back to look. His eyes glanced briefly behind him before they flickered back to Dulcilla. "Ride away like I told you as soon as possible, Dulcilla, and I'll meet you" He slowed a little. "Go in a different direction from me" His expression was urgent. "Hurry!"

            Breathlessly, Dulcilla ran faster, turning a different direction, and leading the pony with her. The last sounds of her companion's voice reached her as she ran: "Ride, Dulcilla, and don't look back!"

            Dulcilla mounted quickly and rode. But, despite her friend's warning, she could not help one last glance back. She looked back just in time to see an arrow tip burst through her companion's side. Scarlet spilled through his shirt, and he crumpled to the ground noiselessly.

             Dulcilla's heart seemed to stop for a moment. Choking a sob, she forced herself away. "No...," she whimpered, though still riding as though the wind were behind her for fear of being caught.

             The pony galloped swiftly, but Dulcilla urged it on more - not daring to look back, her spirit broken from the first time. Tears streamed down her face, but she kept her sights ahead.

             As time passed like a deathly bell toll, Dulcilla finally gathered enough courage to look back... despite the knowledge that there was no way her companion had made it. A desperate hope drove her to be sure, though. And... even against this knowledge, it still felt like an arrow in her own heart when Dulcilla's eyes found no one. Not a soul.

            But as Dulcilla's attentions strayed for but a moment behind her, her pony suddenly whinnied loudly, and bucked. Dulcilla turned, and lunged forwards, trying to stop him, but she tumbled backwards and everything went black.

           That was all Dulcilla could remember. It had been almost five years now since - five years of trying so hard to remember who the man was, why they'd been running, where they were going, what had happened before it, and so many other burning questions. Dulcilla was almost beginning to believe that it really had been only a dream, and that it had never really happened at all. But then... that face... His face. Dulcilla knew it... somehow.

***

The Pain of a Memory - Part VIII

The previous parts are linked below. Due to the brevity of the next two scenes, I have coupled them together on this post (I may do likewise in the future if it occurs again). I hope you enjoy them! :)

Part I

Part II

Part III

Part IV

Part V

Part VI

Part VII

***

Anwynne looked over at Errius. She had to talk to him. She slowly headed in his direction. Wait. What about what had happened last time? She needed a new strategy... Then how would she get to him? Hmm...

Anwynne had to get his attention. From there, maybe Errius himself could think of a way for her to speak with him somehow. But how to get his attention without attracting likewise that of the bandits'...? Then suddenly an idea hit Anwynne of how she could attract attention from Errius without being conspicuous to the robbers.

So Anwynne started humming, first very softly, and then increasingly louder as time passed. She was humming an old tune that Errius sung a lot when he was done with his duties. It was a war-song - not an Ingrecian one - and she had never heard anybody but Errius sing it. She didn't know where it had come from, or where Errius had heard it either, but it was characteristic of him, and he was bound to recognize it.

Anwynne looked at the bandits that were guarding them. None of them seemed to notice, perhaps because of her gradual approach to it. So she slowly began  to put in the words, only a few scattered of the real ones:

Brimming... hmm... sea... hmm... of arrows strong,

hmm... Sailing... hmm... ship of... hmmm... voices in song,

Five-hundred and... hmmm... a thousand strong,

Sing... hmmm... to the vict'ry... hmmm... of homeland...

After a few broken verses of this, Anwynne reverted back to just humming, so as to still not make the vagabonds notice. She looked over at them. They still had not taken any serious note of her actions. Good.

 

Anwynne looked over at Errius hopefully. He was gazing at her questioningly. It had worked! She nodded to him furtively. He gave her an understanding look, as though he had comprehended her wish to speak to him. He looked at the robbers and then back at her. Was he trying to tell her about the bandits being a threat to such an audience? That's what it seemed like. So Anwynne nodded, only hoping she'd understood correctly.

Errius looked away from Anwynne then, and just looked out into the distance as though nothing had happened. Oh no. Had Anwynne just communicated something rather different than intended? Did he think that she had abandoned her wish? Oh, no, oh, no...

Then Errius whispered something to one of his guards. Anwynne looked closer. What was he doing? The guard nodded, and then they both moved closer to each other. Errius and the soldier began to then converse - rather obviously - as though they were trying to be secretive, but doing very badly at such. The bandits slowly began to take notice of Errius and the soldier. Then Errius seemed to notice the robbers' note of them, and he went even closer to his guard, as though trying - quite unsuccessfully - to be less noticeable. But he was doing a rather poor job of being subtle... almost too poor...

The outlaws only seemed to watch him even more closely. His attempt at being unseen in whatever he was doing wasn't working to be sure. In fact, the thieves seemed to be getting rather suspicious of him. A mere moment later, one of them stood up and went over to Errius.

"Fine acting, Sir knight, but I'm afraid that we cannot allow plotting, no matter how inconspicuously covered up", the bandit said with a dry grin. He then gestured for the other one to come, and they both lifted Errius by the shoulders and dragged him away from his guards, over to Anwynne's side of the room.

Well, Errius, whatever that was, it worked exceedingly well, Anwynne thought sarcastically. Wait. Anwynne looked over at Errius, and was half-tempted to laugh. Now she understood what he had been doing... Now he was close enough to speak with her... Of course, he probably wouldn't until the thieves' attention was away from him again. But, nonetheless, now Anwynne had her opportunity. And Errius had understood her after all, the clever man...

So they waited. Errius, perhaps so as not to cast suspicion over Anwynne as well, didn't look at her once, though she would glance over at him often. Eventually, the robbers seemed to have lost any notice for Errius particularly. So Anwynne moved to the side - only slightly - just close enough to speak with Errius unheard.

"Errius?", Anwynne whispered to him, trying to be subtle.

Errius just barely nodded. "Princess" He looked at her through the corner of his eye, not turning his head. "What would you require of me?"

Anwynne took a deep breath. "We have to get out of here, Errius. There's someone else here - someone that isn't a part of our host"

So she told him the story of all she had seen - the hand behind the door, and her fears for what might happen to their band if the Nistrians failed to ransom all of them. He listened intently, wordless and grim throughout her entire account. Finally, after a few moment, Anwynne finished breathlessly. She looked at Errius to see his reaction. He had his chin rested lightly upon his hand, but had a look of grim contemplation over his visage. Once a moment of silence had passed, he looked at her as though to affirm that her tale was now fully over.

Then he spoke slowly. "I shall endeavor most truly to aid this situation, Princess. What will you have me do first?"

Anwynne looked around, unsure of what to answer him. But then she made herself be still. If she was going to be a queen, she had best get accustomed to being in command now.

So she looked back at Errius. "I need you, or one of your men, to find a way out of here. Then maybe that person, be he successful in escaping, would be able to assist us all in doing so"

Errius nodded firmly and clamped his hand to his chest. "I promise you that I shall do all within my power to do this, Princess"

Anwynne nodded in an attempt at being regal, feeling that she should give him some token or something for his promise. She looked down at her hand. A small silver bracelet was upon her wrist - the only jewelry on her person beside a small circlet on her head. She quickly slipped the bracelet off her wrist and clasped it into Errius' hand. He looked at her questioningly.

"A token", she explained to him softly. "A token in thanks for your promise, and your aid. Hopefully someday I shall be able to pay you better, Errius"

For a moment she thought he would protest, but he nodded obediently instead. "Thank you, Princess"

Errius took it in both hands, and slipped it into his vest. Then he turned his face to her again.

Anwynne put her hand over his gently in thanks. "What would I do without you, Captain?"

Errius smiled firmly, and made as though reply, but then looked up blankly, as though a disturbance had occurred. He quickly drew his attention away from Anwynne. Anwynne looked over to see what it was that had caused this reaction.

Rogan had just entered through the mouth of the cave. That's odd. Anwynne hadn't even known that he'd left in the first place. Oh no. That could mean he had sent out the ransom letter already... before Errius' plan could be put into works...

Rogan's gaze immediately went towards Anwynne's direction. His usual swagger was present in all aspects of his air, except his expression. His face held something of a cold anger, mixed with what looked like... fear? Anwynne looked closer. Yes, there was definitely some measure of confusion and fear under the cold glance. What could he possibly be afeared of? Perhaps something had gone wrong in sending out the ransom note? That would be a blessing. Then Errius could have more time...

Rogan seemed to only continue looking. He didn't even move a finger. Anwynne looked at him with puzzlement. Why was he just looking? But he didn't really meet her eyes, even though he seemed to be looking at her. Then what was he really looking at? Anwynne tried to follow his gaze. All it led to was... Errius.

Anwynne turned her sights back to Rogan in confusion. He was still just scrutinizing Errius, without moving an inch... But why? As Anwynne was pondering this, and watching Rogan, though, Rogan just abruptly turned away and walked swiftly past both Errius and Anwynne to the tunnel at the back of the cave, disappearing from sight in a moment.

 ***

Echo slung his satchel over his shoulder. He stuck his sword inside its scabbard and sighed. He looked up at the sky. It was almost daybreak... already almost time to leave. He clasped his cloak and then headed towards the town square.  He was already leaving on his quest. He hadn't thought much about the quest itself, only of home. Only three days ago, he'd volunteered to go on this journey to overtake some band of vagabonds, and had to tell his poor Ariff and Lania that he was leaving again.

Echo grimaced as he remembered their reaction when he'd told them. Lania... she's just looked down, silent as the sky. A small tear had rolled down her pretty face, unchecked by her small but work-worn hand. Ariff... he'd stood up and just looked at Echo in disbelief. then he'd just sat down again, likewise wordless. Neither of them had said a word, quite as Echo had anticipated, but their silence was far worse than anything they could have said.

Echo shook his head. He had to put all of that behind him if he was to focus on the job at hand. Echo looked up at the sky again in an attempt to make his mind behave.

Finally Echo reached the town square. There, gathering in wait, were a company of soldiers and scouts, all ready to obey Echo. No, not Echo. They were ready to obey Sir Torriven. Echo almost laughed to himself. Well, if they were to obey Sir Torriven, they'd have to also obey Echo. Echo and Sir Torriven were one and the same, and always would be. What was Echo doing? Why should he try and make himself forget Ariff or Lania on this journey? They were a part of his travels as much as he was. And he would bear them in mind every step of the way. Not their sadness, no, but Echo would bear in mind the happiest days... when he had first found them, and the smiles from them when he first came home, the sun glancing down merrily upon the simply village hut, and the lovely smell of Orlania's fresh-baked bread...

With all these lovely things going through his head, Echo smiled, and strode into the company of soldiers, ready now to carry on with his quest. Soon enough, he would be back with Ariff and Lania again, making more new happy days...

***

What did you think? Which scene did you like better? Glad to be back with Anwynne? Your thoughts on the escape plan? Feel free to comment, critique, or suggest anything you like - I love feedback and the story needs it sorely - just please be civil. :) I would love to hear from you!



The Song of Violetta, Our Song - A Lenten Meditation From the Opera

Some time ago, I was having a sleepover with my best friend - it was pretty fun, and we did a lot. But the one thing that stuck in my mind was the opera we watched: the Gheorghiu/Lopardo production of La Traviata (The Fallen Woman). And within that, one part in particular, here.

It's a very famous part in the opera, but it didn't strike me for its fame - it struck me for its familiarity. The woman - Violetta Valery - and her song were all too familiar. The words are now almost painful to hear, knowing them. Violetta sings as though she hasn't a care in the world, doesn't she? And even the two words she always repeats are so carefree and pleasured; "Sempre Libera!," or "Ever Free!," she sings. And yet, there is a tone of pain. Who could guess that just before this, she was singing a different tune? A sad, drawn, and pained one, with a melody quite heartrending. And within that, she was singing of something else entirely.
In Sempre Libera, Violetta sings "Libera" (free), "Gioia!" (joy), "Follie!" (folly), and "Piacere" (to pleasure). So it seems she has forgotten her anxiety of before. But then suddenly a voice drifts in from the outside... a voice Violetta knows. The voice of Alfredo, Violetta's only faithful admirer, drifts in. She - being the fallen woman that she is - scorned him for being faithful, laughing at him. But that didn't change Alfredo. It did change Violetta, though. The melody Alfredo sings in the distance recalls when he first revealed his faithfulness to her, and it haunts Violetta, but she nonetheless tries to regard it as "Follie!" and enjoy herself. The words describe love, but in a different way from the love Violetta knows - "Mysterious, high, both cross and pleasure..." Violetta does not know of anything like this, and is disturbed.
The sad song of before, Ah, Forse Lui (Ah, Perhaps He...), spoke not of death, or pain, or really anything like that... and yet, it terrified Violetta and brought out mourning from her. It spoke of Alfredo, oddly enough, and Violetta considered to herself whether to actually stop and have love, serious, true love. She has never even thought about this before - Violetta is a prostitute, you see, originally from very poor beginnings - and faithful love is a strange idea to her. And a terrifying idea. Violetta's carefree joy seems to come from her later thoughts, that she must be free and enjoy herself, and love and party as she pleases, and only anxiety comes from thinking about faithful love and giving things up. How familiar.

The words remind me firstly of our culture - how many times have we heard nowadays from our public that we need to be free, be ourselves, enjoy life to its fullest? And they, unfortunately, suggest doing so in the same way as Violetta. They tell us that loving as we please and withholding from ourselves nothing we really want is the way to enjoy ourselves, the only way to be free and empowered. They tell us that it's all about us, and not about love really. And so we enjoy ourselves. We gallivant and break hearts and go about being 'ever free,' a stranger to anything other kind of love. And then, when faced with true love, we are confused. Maybe even pained. 'Why do we have to give other loves up for one?,' 'Why should we be faithful?,' 'Why must we have love in a certain manner?,' 'Why can't we just love anyone we want?,' We complain, and we think we are bound and shackled by these limitations.
Poor, poor Violettas. A lot of them. They agree so much with Violetta in the beginning, but they ignore what happens later. Even she caves in, and finally gives herself up to the true love of Alfredo. But it is still about her for a while. She lives with him and loves, but then one day, something happens. Alfredo's father comes to Violetta, requesting a simple thing. He speaks of Alfredo's sister, unwed, weak. She will never wed or be cared for properly if Alfredo and Violetta's relationship does not stop, because her reputation will be tarnished by it. So Alfredo's father, Signor Germont, asks Violetta to end it, pleading with her for the sake of love. But Violetta refuses. It is her love! Alfredo is hers now - what business has anyone to end this joy? But then, thinking once more of the words about love Alfredo once sang to her long ago, Violetta finally agrees. Now she fully acts in love, though she knows it will be hard. Because she can see Alfredo, her love, in the weak, unknown girl so much in need of care. And so Violetta gives herself up.

Now that Lent has started, I think ever more of this story. Because it's even more familiar than how I pointed it out above. Not just our culture is reflected in poor Violetta's story. What does the love of Violetta recall more than the Church, Christ's imperfect Bride? We are Violetta in a way. We do as we please, considering nothing but "Gioia" and being free. And yet, when faced with the alternative, we are scared. Faithful love terrifies us, because it shows us what we don't do. It shows us something radically different from being ever free or taking joy and pleasure above all else. Christ loves us more than anything, and far more faithfully even than the metaphorical Alfredo. And yet we remain Violetta in her Sempre Libera - we will have our freedom! And when we really think about giving ourselves up, the thoughts are pained and sad, and we only can think of how hard a path it would be. But perhaps He has real love for us. Perhaps we will give ourselves up. There's no better time than Lent. What are you giving up for faithful Love?

Interview of Alagna Arleine

Alagna's bio can be found here. The introduction to her story can be found here. The questions were given at this post here. I hope you enjoy it! :)

***

Me. *enters interview room and turns to Alagna* Alagna, can I ask you some questions today?






Alagna. *raises brow in question* Ask me questions?

Me. *nods* For an interview.

Alagna. *frowns slightly* Yes. But please keep it quick, there are things I would like to do.

Me. *dryly* Like sneaking around ballrooms, spying on people, and other general nosiness and

busybody-ing...?

Alagna. *blushes slightly, but ignores it* No. Like finding that man in the mask.




Me. Yes, so exactly what I said.






Alagna. No, this is -






Me. How's about we get on with the questions, Alagna? These first ones are from Mary Katherine.
Firstly, what is your favorite dessert?






Alagna. I don't know. Something rich and chocolate. Something elegant or difficult.






Me. So... maybe red velvet cake...?

Alagna. *nods slightly in approval* Yes.






Me. Now, if you lived in current times, what movie or musical would you enjoy? Hmm. Actually, I may have to answer this one, as you have no idea what I'm even talking about.






Alagna. What are you talking about..?






Me. Never you mind. They're a form of music or entertainment we enjoy nowadays... sort-of. But I think you would probably enjoy ones with more rich, classical entrenchment. Probably would enjoy The Phantom of the Opera as far as musicals go... at least until you heard the plot. As for movies, you'd probably like Gone With The Wind... again, excepting the plot. Basically just things that are particularly rich in culture. I think your favorite movies, though, would probably be mystery movies, oddly enough. You like figuring things out and being nosy so much, you'd probably love them. You'd probably like Miss Marple.






Alagna. *lightly* I still have no notion of what those are.






Me. *shakes head* Ask Amy and Alejandro sometime, they're always bringing movies with them in here. Anyways, though, what's your favorite color?






Alagna. To wear or at all?






Me. Um, both, I guess.






Alagna. To wear, gold. At all, claret red. *frowns slightly* I would wear it as much as gold, but... *glances disapprovingly at her hair*






Me. Well, I'm not changing it, if that's what you're implying. Come on, you're my only even relatively red-headed heroine. Definitely not changing it.






Alagna. *smooths skirts nonchalantly* I wasn't asking it. But you may go on with the questions.

Me. Alright, do you have any hobbies?






Alagna. *inclines head* I do.  I play the harpsichord, lyre, harp, organ, and I sing.






Me. So mostly music.






Alagna. Yes. Mostly music, but I also read a bit.






Me. Alright, these are from Blue. What's your earliest childhood memory?






Alagna. *cocks head* I think when I went to the palace as a little girl, for a party my parents were going to. I was, I don't know, perhaps four years of age? But I spoke with Blakely and his brothers there, and I remember it distinctly because Francis was following their mother around, wanting to hold baby Edmond. *smiles* I don't think those two have ever tolerated being parted. *laughs* Even my earliest memories are of balls and grandeur, it seems! I'm afraid I know very little of any other world.






Me. Well... you will... *clears throat* Anyways, what is your most prized possession?






Alagna. Easily spoken. A book of songs and old ballads that Blakely gifted to me for my last birthday. It is old, but I love the old songs. They are so - I don't know - they just have a beauty, and a mystery to them like nothing else I know... *laughs a little* But they're old enough that I can scarcely read the music to sing them!








Me. Do you have any unusual talents?

Alagna. *raises eyebrow and cocks head* Unusual, I'm not sure. I play, and sing, but as do most ladies of the court. I read, but as do most of the intelligent ladies of the court. Well, I like keeping house, which is something most ladies of any court would scoff at. *straightens* But I scoff at them for not acting like women. I would like to think I'm good at housekeeping, but my servants always seem to somehow do it far better than I whenever they do it.






Me. *rolls eyes* I can think of one. How about nosing into other people's business? You're an expert at that...






Alagna. *blushes again ever-so-slightly* Well, I try not to be - but, well, *indignantly* the masked man was important! In the library, he had -






Me. Yes, I know what he had.  *sighs exasperatedly* You are a terrible busybody. But, if you weren't, then a lot of people would probably be dead, so whatever. *shakes head* Now, what is your deepest fear?






Alagna. *looks away* I... I don't think I have one.






Me. *nods sarcastically* Of course not. If you don't answer on your own, you know I can make you, so you might as well.






Alagna. *bites lip* Well, I really don't know... I have a sinking feeling inside of me sometimes, and... I don't know what it means, I really don't... I don't know what I'm afraid of.

Me. *plainly* I do. Love perhaps...?






Alagna. *sweeps hands out* Of course not - I have suitors, and I have never shied from any of them. And I see men in court all the time, and I never shy from deflecting them from me if I don't want their attentions. I'm not afraid of men. Or love. *nods decisively, as though to assure herself*






Me. *shakes head* Alagna, Alagna... Now, what is your deepest desire?






Alagna. I don't really know that either... *puts hands up frustratedly, biting lip* I suppose I'm not much help answering these - but maybe people should ask simpler questions! And mind their own business, for Heaven's sake.






Me. You are such a hypocrite, Alagna! And I think I know what this one is too... in fact, I think it's the same answer.






Alagna. *straightens* It is not. I have never desired any affections, though get them I may. I never even think about it.






Me. Ugh, Alagna! You don't have to think about something to be afraid of it, or to want it. In fact, your not thinking about it, I think makes it all the more unexpected and unfamiliar.






Alagna. *waves hand flippantly* Next question, perhaps?






Me. Would you sacrifice that desire to prevent that fear?






Alagna. *gasps frustratedly* According to you, they're one and the same! Which makes it a logical impossibility, doesn't it? Next question, please.

Me. Fine, fine. Here's the last of Blue's questions. Would you be the type to throw a cream pie in someone's face?




Alagna. *expression lightens to a coy smile* This question I can answer easily - certainly! I must say it's an odd idea to throw a pie in someone's face, but it sounds like something Francis and Edmond though up... which makes it rather delightful to think of! *laughs* I can just imagine doing it, too...




Me. *laughs* Yeah - strangely enough, so can I. Alright, now these questions are from Catherine Hawthorn. Who or what is your greatest enemy?




Alagna. *frowns slightly* I don't really have any enemies. I don't think there's really anyone I know that comes to mind that I can't at least mostly tolerate, and can't at least mostly tolerate me. But the masked man... if he is truly as dangerous as he bodes to be, then I and the whole country may have an enemy in him.




Me. What is your greatest talent?




Alagna. Playing or singing. Not sure which. Perhaps playing my harpsichord.




Me. What is your favorite flower?




Alagna. A white camellia. It's the most elegant flower I can think of, and I like wearing it in my gowns and hair at balls.




Me. Alright, what's your favorite gown or other piece of clothing?

Alagna. *frowns disapprovingly* That is a rather indelicate question.




Me. Come on, Alagna. In your times it might be, but not in mine, and not in your interviewers'. Please answer.




Alagna. *nods slightly* Then my gold gown, the one -




Me. *nods* Yep. I know the one. The one you're wearing when the story begins - big, billowing skirt, sparkling spectacle, low enough neckline for you to have your bit of jewelry and your hair trailing down your neck. Your preferred genre of ball gown, yes?




Alagna. *smiles reminiscently* Yes, most surely.




Me. Alright, these questions are from Hope. How would you describe yourself?


Alagna. *cocks head coquettishly* 'Spoiled', perhaps - 'elegant'? I think, actually, 'charmed' would be the word. A spoiled girl who loves elegance and has a charmed life that she's rather attached to.


Me. *nods* That sounds about right. Now, what do you like to do that most people would think was odd?


Alagna. Well, like I said before, keeping house. I pleasure in doing it, unlike most nobles. And most women of court would think me odd - if they didn't already for my leaving home before being married.


Me. Which you did exactly for that purpose.


Alagna. *sweeps hands lightly* I didn't do it because I wanted to prove a point - I did it because it sounded nice. I cannot really keep house for my parents - what an odd notion - and I cannot really have my own estates while living in someone else's.


Me. *shakes head* Alagna... Anyways, if you could be any animal, which would it be?

Alagna. *cocks head* A fox, I think. I like them, and they are rather intriguing creatures.


Me. *rolls eyes* Intriguing creatures that just happen to be like you in animal form? Red-colored fur, slender and sleek, nosy, and always sticking themselves in business that doesn't belong to them. Really, Alagna?


Alagna. I never really thought about it that way, I just always liked them!


Me. *shakes head again* Whatever. What is your deepest, darkest secret?


Alagna. *smooths skirts rather irritatedly* I think these people are getting a bit too prying.


Me. Just answer the question, Alagna, eesh.


Alagna. I don't know. Perhaps... perhaps that I really actually do care what other people think, and do care for simplicity, and really wouldn't mind a simpler life. But I doubt that anyone else shall ever know it.


Me. I don't think that's it, but fine. Close enough. The next questions are from Megan - you remember her, right? She was the one that interviewed Edmond a while back... I think...


Alagna. Yes, I think I remember that time.

Patrizio Buanne of the very, very blue eyes. :)

Me. Yeah. Well, anyways, her first question is what do you find more handsome, brown eyes or blue eyes?


Alagna. *frowns* This is another attempt to try and - ! *throws up hands irritatedly* Ugh. Brown, if she must have an answer!


Me. *raises brow sternly* Alagna...


Alagna. *gasps frustratedly* Fine! Blue, then.


Me. *nods, satisfied* I know. Now, are you practical, or a dreamer?


Alagna. Probably a bit of both. Perhaps slightly more on the practical side - I'm perfectly content where I am, so no need for dreams. However, that could also be because every dream of mine that comes to mind I already have.


Me. So you think... Alright, last question. Would you rather live a long and unremarkable life, or a short one filled with glory?


Alagna. *cocks head thoughtfully* I think the former suits me. I am rather unremarkable in my present state, and would be content to live forever in it, so that logically points out the answer for me. Is that all?


Me. *nods* Thanks for your, uh, attempt at cooperation.


Alagna. *flicks hand up dismissively* I wasn't even attempting. Farewell.


Me. *shakes head* Farewell, Alagna.


End Interview.
What did you think? Did you like Alagna? Is she difficult or what...? Ugh... some characters... Anyways, though, the candidates for the next interview are these:

Prince Blakely, Alagna's best friend

Lady Felicia Elmonte, Alagna's cousin

 Prince Francis and/or (depending on common vote of joint or separate interviewing for them) Prince Edmonde, Alagna's close friend(s), and Blakely's younger brother(s).

Vote in the comments, and I'll post a bio for whoever gets the most votes in a little while. :)

The Pain of a Memory - Part VII

The previous parts are below:

Part I

Part II

Part III

Part IV

Part V

Part VI

Please enjoy!

***

Lan gazed bitterly down the hill. He needed to find something... The first thing his eyes alighted upon, though, was a peaceful village below. This was where he might find out what he wished to know.

To any other eyes, perhaps, it was a beauteous and quaint little circle of houses, but it wasn't to Lan's. He had been here before, so long ago... It had changed a little. Now a fountain stood on the outskirts where once an small inn had been. A small inn, where much had happened. Yes, that was long ago, in the village's earlier days, when Lan had last seen it... Almost eleven years before...

Lan bit his lip. Was he really ready to do this? To put aside everything and tell Elaeus' family what had happened? He wasn't quite sure. Lan's heart beat wildly as he walked down the hill into the village. He had to do this. He was going to tell Elaeus' family and Rita that Elaeus was dead. Alas, why did he have to be the bearer of such black news?! He would have to be the one to tell Elaeus' mother she was without her firstborn. He would be the one to tell Elaeus' small siblings that they were now brotherless. He would be the one to make Rita a widow.

Alone... he had to do it alone because there was no Elaeus to guide him. Not anymore. Ariff was tending the wounded back at camp, and Lan had no one to accompany him in this terrible task.

Lan reached the village. A small inn stood near the outskirts. Here Elaeus' family had traveled together, just to be able to see Elaeus. A terrible thing it was that their travel should have been in vain.

An involuntary sigh escaped Lan's lips. He dreaded entering that inn, but he had to tell them. He couldn't run from it forever. Lan stopped in front of the inn door. He took a breath and entered.

Lan nervously looked down at the sword hanging in his belt. It was Elaeus' own. It had been found on the ground, no doubt dropped in the chaos of combat and lost from its owner. It now belonged to Elaeus' family. It was unfortunately the only token that Lan had to give them.

Still hesitating in his course, Lan looked around at the almost empty first room of the inn. It was full of mostly abandoned tables, and lit only by  a couple of glowing torches. Only one corner of the room had any occupants. Elaeus' mother sat at one of the tables with the twins on either side of her. Rita sat with them, her face joyfully lit by torchlight and a smile. No doubt they made merry while in wait for Elaeus... Elaeus who would never come. The twins looked sleepy but happy. One of the twins, a small black-haired girl, tugged at her mother's skirt.

"Mama?", she spoke, a tinge of impatience in her gentle voice. "When's Elaeus coming?"

At this, the other twin, an untidy little brown-haired boy, turned also to his mother. "Yes, Mama!", he piped up. "When much longer?"

Their mother smiled. "How much longer, Erry, darling. You'd think your education would do something for you..." She shook her head and then turned to them both. "Don't you worry, Elie. He'll be here soon enough, and once he does get here it's off to bed with both of you"

"But, Mama   ", both Erry and Elie began to protest.

"I told you that you could stay out here until your brother came   no longer, dears"

"Don't worry", Rita then addressed them, smiling. "Since we came here, we'll be able to see him as long as his band is here. You'll get to see him again"

Lan couldn't bear listening to their talk. They would never get to see Elaeus again, because he was never coming back. And it was all Lan's fault. It should have been him    not Elaeus. Lan was an orphan, and had no one to mourn his being gone but Elaeus... Elaeus had a family to support. Now that family would be alone in a foreign country. And Lan couldn't even help them in recompense because his military band moved out tomorrow. Lan clenched his fist. It should have been him hacked to pieces and trampled in the dust... Why Elaeus?

Lan stepped slowly out of the doorway and into the room where Elaeus' family was. He cleared his throat, trying to ready himself. Rita turned about, and her eyes alighted upon Lan. She stood up and smiled at him brightly.

"Lan!", she greeted him, stepping forward. "Lan, I'm so glad to see you    is Elaeus far behind?"

Lan looked away a moment and bit his lip. He looked back to Rita hesitantly.

Rita turned to face the twins and their mother. "Shouldn't be too long a time, should it, Elie and Erry? And now Lan is here to wait and laugh with us!"

The twins both smiled gleefully and made as though to run to Lan. He put his hand up to stay them. He couldn't bear this any longer. Erry looked up to him questioningly for this sudden gesture. It seemed to Lan that he saw Elaeus' face in Erry. The same brown hair, the same warm, determined grey eyes. Even that same expression. Lan looked forcibly away from Erry and back to Rita. Her look also seemed to question Lan's action.

"Lan, what    ?", she began but stopped suddenly. A flicker of fear flashed through her eyes. "Lan, where is my husband?"

Lan looked down. He pulled Elaeus' sword out of its sheath. He walked to the table and laid the sword down upon it. Then he walked silently back to Rita.

"I    that's Elaeus' sword...", Rita stammered. "Lan, where is he? When is he coming back?"

Lan hesitated a moment. He couldn't bear having to do it. "Elaeus    he won't come back, Rita. He's gone" Lan choked a lump out of his throat. He swallowed and waited for Rita's reaction dreadingly.

 Rita looked down blankly. She stumbled backwards and leaned against the table as though in need of a support.

"Lan?" Suddenly the voice of Erry came from next to Lan as someone tugged Lan's cloak. Lan looked down, only to see the twins at his side. "Lan, why isn't Elaeus coming back tonight?", asked Erry innocently.

"Yes, Lan, where did he go?", queried Elie concernedly.

"I think, young ones, Lan means that you brother did not go anywhere", their mother's voice spoke up, with a cracked, empty tone to it. "Your brother... is dead"

 

Elie looked to Lan as though she didn't believe that was what he'd meant. Erry looked down almost angrily, like he was refusing to believe it.

"Is that what you meant, Lan?", Erry asked. His voice had hurt and disbelief in it.

Lan looked down. He couldn't find in himself to answer.

"Lan? Is that what you mean? Is my son dead?", Elaeus' mother asked him sadly.

Lan nodded but did not look up. He clenched his fists in grief. "I'm sorry", he said finally, looking up after a moment.

"No! He isn't! He's coming back!", cried Erry in an upset tone.

Rita fell back. "He's gone", she said breathlessly, and she collapsed. Elaeus' mother caught her and sat with her.

"Oh, Erry, even Rita says he's gone! Erry!" Elie turned to Erry distressedly, sobbing in between words with tiny chokes.

Erry didn't say anything. He just looked down with the same blankness that surrounded the scene.

Elaeus' mother was crying and trying to revive Rita. Elie was sitting and sobbing, her sleek hair hanging over her face. Lan had brought this upon them. He looked away, hating himself for bringing all of this to them. He had to leave.

So Lan departed, not daring to look back. He had to make up for all this. Elaeus was dead and it was his fault. Elaeus' family was in mourning and it was his fault.

Suddenly the slight sound of rustling, and footsteps upon the grass came to Lan's ears. He looked back quickly.

Little Erry stood there, an asking look on his face. "Lan, please don't leave. We need you to stay, Lan", he pleaded. "You need to be here. I need you to be my brother now. We need you"

Lan bit his lip. "Erry, I can't. I have to make up for this. I can't be anything I'm not, and I'm not your brother    Elaeus was. It was my fault Elaeus died, and I can't take his place. Now, I need to end this war, so nobody else dies"

Erry looked down disappointedly. "Then end it, Lan... But, if you ever come back again, will you be my brother?"

Lan smiled sadly. "Maybe    if I ever come back. But now, just remember, even if I never come back, know that I'm sorry", and with that, Lan just ran, not even glancing back. Once he got out of the village and up the hill, he walked back to camp, looking back only once to see that Erry didn't follow.

When Lan got back, he went straight to Ariff. Ariff was sitting and binding his own battle wounds up when Lan found him.

"Ariff" Lan sat down with him.

Ariff looked up. "Lan, what is it? Elaeus' family...?"

"It went worse than I imagined. It's all my fault this had to happen..."

Ariff sighed and continued tying up his bandage. "No, it isn't"

Lan ignored the reply and continued. "I have to make up for this, Ariff. I have to make sure no one else dies. So there are no more widows and orphans wandering the streets, lamenting their husbands and fathers. I can't bring the twins back their brother, but I can make sure nobody else loses theirs"

"How?" Ariff stood up, raising a brow in question.

Lan stood straight and faced Ariff determinedly. "I will end this war for good. The Nistrians will crumble and fall until their white flag is the only thing left. I will avenge Elaeus"

***