Prologue
I was 12 when my mother was taken from the world. I still remember to this day, watching as she faded away. She asked me to sing to her, asked me not to cry, but I couldn't help the sobs that came gushing from what seemed to be my heart. It felt as though my soul was being ripped apart, and even now, I still feel its pain.
My brother, Arogon was 17 when it happened. My father had recently left the country to grieve in his own way. He ventured far and wide, anywhere to get away from the painful reminders of his late wife. So it was, my brother was the only one I had left. He became my one and only companion, my confidant, he would sit up with me at night and hug me, he would tell me all would be alright. But I didn't believe him. I couldn't.
Nearly 3 years had passed by without a single word from our father. The house felt quiet and empty without him and our mother, and the sense of loneliness began to grow inevitable. Sometimes I would let my mind wonder to the possibilities of him ever returning, or if he were to come home, would he still be the same man he used to be.
By the time I turned 15 a war had broken out between northern Llangennech and Ynis-Hirr. It was a war that had threatened our land of Brynowen -which lay just west of both- for many years, but, as of yet, had come to nothing, as neither of the two countries wanted to deal with the troubles a war would bring should they let one plague their lands.
It was now early December and the weather outside was bitterly cold. Snow and ice covered the hard ground like a thick layer of icing. It was times like these that I never left the comforts of our old study, I would curl up in a ball and blanket in my mothers old chair and read, as the log fire hissed and crackled away in the background.
A few weeks ago, my brother had announced that a ball was to be held in celebration of Christmas and the coming new year. For generations it had been a tradition for our family to hold such an event, but that had become somewhat difficult the past few years due to the absence of our father. It was the first time since his disappearance that it should be held once again, in our home.
I was sitting in my mothers chair late one night, and had just finished Utopia, when I found myself gazing into the fire absently, watching as the flames danced around in quick, almost violent movements. A hot, salty tear prickled down my cheek.
I did not know what stirred my emotions so, until I realized... Utopia had been the first and last book my mother had read me, but what troubled me then, more than anything, was the fact that I had read it many a time, but never before had I found tears scathing my now heated flesh.
A few hours had passed when a loud rapping on the main doors awoke me from my slumber. I was unaware I had even dozed off until then.
Loud footsteps sounded down the hallway making their way toward the direction in which the noise had originated.
All at once, the large oak doors swung open in the heavy wind, creaking on its hinges and slamming into the stone wall of the porch.
I heard our butler, Roaul ushering some people come inside quickly. He quickly stripped them of their outer garments and motioned for them to go into the front parlour to warm and dry off by the fire, while he struggled to gain control of the heavy doors that were cringing bitterly in the wind, protesting to his every action in order to close them.
I rose grudgingly from the comfortable position I had found myself, and quickly went to seek them out and inquire as to who should be calling at such a preposterous hour of the night. Not to mention, in the middle of a blizzard...
I had scarcely even reached the door, when I stopped dead in my tracks at the sound of a woman's voice.
Although I had not heard the voice before, it seemed strikingly familiar to me, almost reminding me of...my mother. Soft and melodic, thick like honey, but something about its tone seemed disturbed.
Then came another voice, that of a gentleman's. It seemed to echo loudly throughout entrance hall, and kept rising heatedly. Shouting nearly and striking to be none too inviting.
I could not tell what he so happened to be saying, as the voices soon became muffled and unclear as they wove further away and out of hearing distance, so I decided I should explore, trying to keep in the shadows and well out of sight.
Unfortunately though, Roaul spotted me.
He did not say much at first, only he gazed a while and tried speaking calmly to the two shadowed figures standing next to him.
They were still unaware of my presence, and he did not seek to point me out, so he averted his eyes quickly back toward their general direction.
Something in that movement seemed to trigger their sense of curiosity, causing them to turn their heads swiftly toward the object to which Roaul had been watching. They must have sensed a distraction.
Roaul looked at me in panic, the look in his eyes pleading me to go.
It was then that I saw the man's face, looking at me with an unattainable expression, but his eyes were cold. I shivered slightly under his gaze.
The woman still held her back toward me, almost reluctant or afraid to look, but the man beside her nudged her slightly and whispered something in her ear, causing her to lean into him slightly for support as she slowly looked around. She looked sad and confused and...
I stood frozen in my thoughts. I could neither move nor think, I was stuck to the spot. My gaze was transfixed on the woman. Powder blue eyes stared back at me, dark blonde hair framed her slim face, but the sides were pulled into a loose braid at the back, the remainder hung down to her waist in perfect curls.
She looked like the exact replica of my mother.
"Rosenwynn? Mother?" the words slipped from my mouth. I did not mean to speak, but I could not help myself.
The woman turned pale and a look of pain began to bloom from deep within her eyes, the man beside her glowered and took a firm grip of her arm, almost protectively. He looked as though he was going to speak, when my brother came bounding down the stairs in annoyance.
"What on earth is going on?" he looked slowly from face to face asking, demanding for a response.
I forced my eyes shut and pressed a clammy, shaking hand to my forehead, not taking any notice of anything but the ghost that stood before me.
"My lady? Evangeline, are you alright, you look frightfully pale?" Roaul asked me quietly, looking at me solicitously. But I felt too dazed to reply.
My feet felt unsteady, unable to bear my weight for much longer and my legs, as though they were trembling beneath me.
Shoes slapped against the marble tiles as they sounded toward my direction, the noise growing ever louder making me dizzy.
I suddenly felt as though I was falling.
"Evangeline?!" Arogon's voice pierced through my skull like a bullet.
Warm arms clenched tightly around my back and waist. The next thing I knew, I was weightless. I was lifted gently into someone's arms.
"Evangeline?!"
Darkness had shrouded my vision and I felt a searing pain from under my ribcage. I could scarcely breathe but everything was fading, until I felt completely numb and there was nothing.
"Never say goodbye, because saying goodbye means going away, and going away means forgetting" -Peter Pan.
Please R&R, I'd love to hear what you have to say about this, or anything really :) but it'd be great to get your feedback ;P
