AURORA

XXVIII

MARCH 1512

THE OLD WORLD

LADY ADALYNN IRWIN

-

He stood there, in the middle of the damned hall looking like he owned the whole place. Which he probably did. He was dressed in the finest of clothes, covered in jewels only the richest could buy. He looked simply ravishing as he walked to a person.

The man he had walked too also looked wealthy and was dressed in similar attire, but he hadn't the confident and almost arrogant sensation my beloved carried. His expression was hilted, it showed no emotion, nothing even close to emotion.

He put his hand to his sword on his belt and drew it. The blade glinted int the dimmed room, reflecting the shivering impression of fire of the surrounded candles.

He looked so majestic in this position.

He walked a few steps forward where a man lay, a piece of silk tied around his mouth and ropes around his wrists.

"Remove the silk," my beloved commanded. A servant moved to do so, his hands shivering. He looked more fearful than man who was the prisoner.

"What do you have to say about your deeds," my beloved's voice gritted. The man did not speak.

"Untie him," my beloved said. The ropes were removed.

"Stand."

The man stood; my beloved commanded such authority in his voice that people who were not the victims of his anger were shaking in fear. The man's hands itched to rub his wrists, but he refrained from doing so, instead glaring at my beloved.

"I am a just man, speak," my beloved said. His hands clasped behind him and he waited.

"I have nothing to say," the man spoke, a slight tremor to his words. My beloved stared at him, the oak of his eyes penetrating his body like wood penetrated the earth.

"Then you are convicted for your crimes," my beloved said, the words had no sooner left his mouth, than his sword whipped through the air and cut through the prisoner's head, spraying the floor with blood. He dropped the sword to the floor.

I recoiled at the sudden movement but then composed myself, I had to trust that he had committed a crime enough to warrant such a punishment.

"Clean it," he commanded, his voice like fuel, igniting fear within the people.

He turned to the person he was talking to first and muttered something. The servant had finished cleaning the sword and was presenting it back to my beloved.

"My lord," she said, bowing. He took it from her, and I saw it. I saw the slightest hint of emotion upon his face. His eyes softened. It wasn't much but it was enough, for me to see the life within him. They had become a stunning dark shade of honey.

"Thank you," he said to his servant, tipping his head in gratitude, the servant nodded and scurried away.

"I suppose we must attend to the sanguine," my beloved said to his companion.

"Indeed," his companion said, "It will be a disastrous event."

"We shall hope death will not grace us with his presence, we require no more tension than we already have."

The man with him nodded, "We will hope for such a thing," he said slowly, "But for the simple reason we fear his arrival, he may arrive."

I drifted away from the scene going back to Marissa. The scent of the sea was strong and salty, and I could hear the cautious sound of waves lapping upon each other. It was serene and yet filled with solitude.

I felt a surge of gratitude fill me, "Thank you," I whispered to myself.

I felt myself again withdraw from Marissa and back into the life of my beloved.

In front of me, now stood a group of men and women, all dressed as finely at him. But almost none of them looked English, they were all of different skin colours and features. Someone said something and laughter sounded across the hall. And with that laughter, I descended back into my sleep.

My beloved stood in the shadows of the room, observing the situation. He looked more tense than usual and he was flexing his fingers.

But I couldn't help but feel, though the group of men and women all were different, they had something that united them. Something deeper and darker than normal.

Something that wasn't normal.

OOMPA LOOMPA