Chapter One

Death.

An old friend, a pleasant and peaceful dream. The dark quiet of twilight, the whisper of mist on the moor. This, this is what she dreamed. What she spent her waking hours waiting for, for the moment she could hide away in the dark quiet of her bedroom to wipe her tears and lay her head down to rest. Always she'd close her eyes to slip away into that mist, met by the familiar sight of the nightmare within the dream. At first, she had been terrified of it, stared frozen in place as the creature came nearer. But now she let it come as close as it wished, its velvet nose stirring vibrant auburn locks with its cool breath.

It was a stag, much larger than any she had seen before, its antlers twisted into elegant arching shapes. It didn't seem quite real, stars glittering on its midnight black fur and smoke wisping off of it's antlers and hooves. It's eyes were unnaturally pale, but so much like hers. One... Of the unclouded sky... And another of the dark grass that grew in the moor. A mirror image of her own glittering gaze. Was the beast something within her that manifested in her dreams? Her father had often said that real life could manifest in one's unconscious mind in strange and sometimes terrifying fashions, but she did not think that was the case. This beast that haunted her dreams... She saw him as an old friend. A protector.

She frowned as she woke, fretting over how her descriptions of the strange beast displeased her parents. They found her accounts to be disturbing nightmares... Not the safe haven she loved so dearly. "Sarah dear, what have I told you about letting your mind wander before bed?" Her mother would scold, a harsh bite hidden behind a sweet smile. "Keep the lavender oil by your bed and perhaps your nightmares will actually go away once you learn to listen to your elders."

She didn't like that either. The lavender clouded her dreams, made the stag all but impossible to find. Instead, she learned to keep quiet to her parents. Her younger brother on the other hand... She was only sixteen, but to her eleven year old brother, she was wise beyond her years. Jonathan would sit and listen with wide eyes and a soft smile as she told him of the grand beast, a twinkle growing in his eyes.

"He sounds like a good ally to have in a fight." Jonathan swung out his wooden sword at the open window, the soft white curtains billowing out to them. "I bet I could beat Samuel at Kings and Knights if I went riding into battle on your smokey steed." He gave his sword a few more swings with a bright smile on his face. Sarah laughed, carefully standing up to brush out her skirts as she went to close the window. Her mother had started to force her into more "mature dresses" that were heavy and hot, but Jonathan would catch a cold if she let the autumn chill seep into his bones for too long.

"I'm sure he would protect you valiantly." She laughed softly, closing the window's latch with a quiet click. "Now come on. I don't want you to get yelled at by Mother for trying to hide from your bedtime." She lead him with a hand between his shoulders, a soft smile on her face. "And remember, don't utter a word to Mother or Father about our shadowy friend, okay? It's our secret."

"Our secret." He grinned back like always. She kissed his forehead and sent him out of her bedroom door, swinging his wooden sword happily. She closed the door behind him, resting her back against it. She stayed there for a moment, relishing the quiet of the room. The room was filled with a bloody red and golden light, the sunset casting rosy hues on her freckled face. She loved nightfall, when she could strip down to her more childish nightgowns and hug her dolls close to her chest without fear of her mother scolding her for "refusing to grow up". She loved the sunrise just as well, but it always put a certain dread in her heart. So soft, and so delicate compared to the violent reds of sunset, but with it came day... When she had to shed her comforts and try to fit into her mother's standards of what a daughter should be.

She bit her bottom lip to hold back the tears, slowly undressing and relishing the way the cool air felt against her skin after being trapped in the thick petticoats of the hoop skirted dressed her mother so loved to dress her in. She breathed a sigh of relief as the corset came undone, slipping into a delicate lacy white nightgown. Her toes barely peeked out from under the hem and her hands were barely visible from the just a little too long sleeves. It felt like mist clinging to her skin, spider silk made into lace. Auburn curls were pulled out of their tight up-do, cascading down between her shoulder blades, filling her senses with the smell of rose oil.

Twilight had begun to creep up on her, the first stars peeking out. The adults would be up for some time still, but the children were expected to be put away early for their convenience and to rise early to promote a healthy sleeping schedule. Her mother no doubt would be in to check on her soon, but Sarah allowed herself a few moments to gaze at the stars. She opened her window again, feeling the chill in the air, the promises of winter on the wind. Her family was middle class and couldn't afford some of the more elaborate townhouses, but the cry of seagulls and the smell of the sea was there, the Connecticut coast just a few blocks away. If she peered hard enough past the roofs of the houses and shops, she could see the ocean peeking through the chimney smoke. Her mother hated the ocean.

Gazing wistfully at the water, wishing she could fly away as easily as the seagulls could, she did not notice the dark shape watching her from the rooftops. He seemed to blend in, his pale mismatched eyes shining like two small lights from a cloud of black smoke. In an instant though, he was gone and by the time she looked in his direction, it was like he had never been there at all. She couldn't sense the feeling that someone had their eyes on her... Nor could she put her finger on the sense of familiarity that came from it. Frowning, she rubbed her eyes. Perhaps it was time for bed after all.

Slipping between the sheets she hugged her Lotte, her favorite porcelain doll, to her chest. White blonde ringlets tickled her cheek, gentle blue eyes reflecting the dim light until it fully gave way to night. Her mother came to check on her, but she was already fast asleep, dark lashes fluttering against freckled cheeks. Holly gave a soft smile, pleased to see her daughter following the rules. It was replaced with a frown as she noticed that the bottle of lavender oil had not been touched, and she shook her head, making a mental note to scold the girl in the morning.

The moment the door closed, the room being closed in darkness once more, the room was not empty. In the corner sat the dark shape from before, his pale eyes fixated on her. He waited until the house fell silent, till the heartbeats of the other occupants slowed into the soft rhythmic beating of sleep, matching the girl's. But they were not the same, oh no, her heartbeat sounded so much sweeter. He stood, his coat barely missing the floor by a mere few inches, his pale body clothed in nothing but black.

He approached the bed, sitting down by the girl's side carefully as not to stir her. He frowned at the bottle of lavender oil on the nightstand, slipping it quietly into the drawer and out of sight. Turning back to her, he slipped off his gloves. Pale ivory hands as white as the snow that would soon be plaguing the city reached out, rings glittering on the graceful fingers. He brushed the hair away from her face, his touch cool. Her eyebrows furrowed some, and he feared for a moment that she would wake. But she calmed, the look on her face being replaced by one of serenity. "My friend..." She mumbled, nestling into the porcelain doll that she cradled in her arms. "You've come back to me..."

"Yes..." He whispered back, stroking her hair. "I'll always come back to you, don't you fret." His smile was sincere, but his heart ached. Oh how he wished he could dive into her dreams, to see what she did. To reach out to her in some way without fear of rejection. But how could he? He was a monster... Wasn't he? He bent down, pressing a chilled kiss to her temple. "If only you could awaken to a lovely dream... And not this nightmare." He sat like this with her nearly every night. Before, she did not stir until dawn was near, and he would be gone at the first flutter of her lashes. Hide himself away back into the dark, back with the dead. Sometimes his companions would join him, and he'd be able to come out during the day, his sensitive skin hidden away from the garish sunlight.

But yet... That was not enough. His pale eyes became misted with a crimson film, the blood red tears threatening to spill. No... He could not leave a single trace of his presence. She could not know that he existed... Even though he purely existed for her now. No other had captured his heart like this.. Not even the lovely Maria from his mortal youth. She had revived what he had long since thought dead, filled his lungs with stardust and his veins with lightning. He knew now, what it felt to love a star, to be consumed by its warmth.

But it would seem that he would also know how it felt to be burned by the flames of its passion. He loved her so dearly, couldn't bear to see her be given away to some flighty suitor by her mother, forced into womanhood when he could keep her so perfectly preserved. His own little porcelain doll, and his alone. He had made grand plans of stealing her away before, even going so far as to think of stealing away her young and vibrant brother as well, who his heart had grown to love as any man would love a son.

But they would have to grow up without him... And perhaps... Whatever dreams his unearthly presence had given her would satisfy her yearning for something more... Keep her true to herself while her mother tried to mold her. He could only hope. He looked out to the starry sky, knowing dawn would be coming soon, and her waking with it. He wished he could stay for just a bit longer, just a bit longer this time, prolong their last meeting as long as he could. He swallowed hard, knowing it could not be. Come sunrise, William would be expecting him and Shannon in their coffins, but whereas the young Shannon no doubt already was sleeping peacefully in his, Lewis unwillingly pulled himself away from the girl.

Virginia was waiting, he was going home. He had plans to work out, and he couldn't let this opportunity slip through his fingers. But it would mean the end of his dream, the end of his rebirth. Once more he knew the pain of death, the pain of moving on. Perhaps... One day... He'd be able to steal his little doll away. Or perhaps... It would be better for her if he never returned at all.

One day...