Alone, in the dark corner of her chambers, the queen of Albion sat at an antique vanity, a treasure that only a queen could posses, or at least that's what they told her
Alone, in the dark corner of her chambers, the queen of Albion sat at an antique vanity, a treasure that only a queen could posses, or at least that's what they told her. It was built of a precious wood, and carved by a famous hand. Ester however, had never cared. The delicate curves twisting among the cold carved daisies gave her no pleasure.
Rather she focused her attention on the lone candle before her. She cupped the tiny flame with her hand.
The room was dark save the candle, and as the golden light caressed her skin and emphasized her sharp aristocratic features, it looked as if Ester herself was glowing in the night.
She was so tired. The life of a queen was demanding, yet Ester knew that was not what weighed on her mind and heart every day and especially every night. Despite her exhaustion, Ester feared sleep.
How long would she sleep before the nightmares came, as the always did? How long would she be still before she screamed in her sleep and her most trusted guards came rushing in to calm her? The guards had been sworn to secrecy about Ester's nights, and they obeyed, either out of duty or love of their queen.
When Ester nearly fell, face first into the burning candle, she figured that she could not hold out much longer. Sleep must come for better or for worse.
She stood slowly; her back was stiff from the long hours by the candle. She blew out the candle with a quick rush of air. The sound when the flame extinguished was certainly pleasing, but the pressing black that followed destroyed whatever pleasure she had. She missed that golden light. The candle had reminded her of the first meal they had shared together, alone in Saint Mathias. It gave her comfort but now she felt as alone as ever.
Slipping into the fine sheets, Ester braced her self for the restless night.
Limp, his body fell to the floor. Blood spilled out, seeping into the fine cracks between the tiles. Messing with his silver hair, it came closer to her running down the slopping floor. Hot liquid stained the color of roses. She had no control as her body shook wildly. She prayed so hard.
Father…
Don't leave me…
Don't leave me…
Don't leave me…
Ester woke up screaming….
Ion slept while a figure stood some ways offin the distance. It was snowing. The clouds had hidden the stars behind their thick masses, invisible in the night sky.
Turning his back on the sky Abel approached Ion.
"Wake up!" His voice was firm.
Ion stood quickly at attention. He was pretty aware considering he had just been awoken.
"Do you know where we are?" Abel asked simply.
"On the outskirts of the capital of Albion." Ion answered. He stood straight, even rigid, like a lieutenant addressing his general.
"Go to the city and look around. You know what to do by now. Be discreet." Abel often sent Ion on these reconnaissance missions.
Though, he would prefer to go himself but he was sure Cain could sense him near by, and when they finally did find Cain, Abel wanted to be the first to know.
As Ion turned toward the city, apparently satisfied with his instruction Abel had a thought and knew it needed to be addressed immediately. He called out.
"And no visits!" Ion stopped, and turned to face Abel. His face was emotionless save the wider eyes. As vague as the order had been, it was obvious to Ion what Abel meant. How many nights had red hair clouded his mind.
"Yes" was his only reply before he finally left.
The clouds parted a little further, exposing the vanpires moon, shinning red light onto the pure white snow.
He couldn't help but wonder if she was sleeping peacefully somewhere in Albion.
He doubted if he would ever see her again. No, he knew he wouldn't. He wouldn't let himself. All he had ever loved was destroyed, and he refused to be her downfall. He would at least keep the knowledge that she was alive.
Abel was relieved that Ion was gone for now he could sleep for a while. Ion would be away until dawn at the earliest. He couldn't waste such opportunity. Visions of what should be forgotten would always invade his dreams. He would not rest while Ion was here.
His dreams were ever the same. The fear in her eyes, the malice in Cain's. Then there was the coffin, there was always a coffin. Screams, tears, and nothingness…
He would often wake up crying, and he couldn't risk Ion seeing that, seeing him genuinely weak. His heart heavy, his body cold, Abel drifted away to an uneasy sleep.
Where was he? He was nowhere. His body was numb, and he hadn't the energy to move it, but he was alive! He felt rather than saw someone above him. He heard her weep. For a long while nothing changed. He heard the sound of her nails scratching against wood whenever her tears intensified. Despair weaved through his heart.
Ester…
Please don't cry…
Please don't cry…
Please don't cry…
Abel woke up alone…