Read, review, enjoy! Lyrics are from Heart In The Pipes, by Tony Castles (KAUF remix)
The prince had watched her from across the sea of wealthy partygoers, invisible to their shallow vision. Hidden in a cloak of shadow, his eyes devouring every line of her.
Had it really been by chance that he'd found her?
Like a fool, he had gone back to the convent. It wasn't easy without being properly summoned, but the box remained in her dormitory and provided a small gateway for him to use.
Doing so was breaking one of the rules set down upon him; his second offense in a relatively short amount of time. He knew Leviathan was biding his time, pretending to be ignorant of his misdeeds. His punishment could come at any moment.
All the more reason to seek her out as soon as possible.
But when he'd appeared in her room, it looked different. The robes were gone and the bed was bare. The only thing he found was a book of poems, lying on the floor of the closet. Inside the cover, a name was written out in a delicate, feminine hand.
Inna Faye.
All she'd left him was her name.
The former Elliot Spencer had been ready to rip the book to shreds when a small black and white photo fell from between two pages.
A little girl, sitting on a fallen tree. An ocean spread across the background, and a shore that could only be Northern, laden with tall pines and jagged rocks.
Her face was turned away from the camera, towards the water, the bow of her little dress dancing in the wind. A mane of familiar dark curls flowed down her back.
The back of the photograph read 'Inna at the beach, 5 yrs. old, Mt. Desert Isle'.
Getting to Mount Desert Island was easy enough; the box provided all the power he needed. His body broke down and came back together on the Eastern shore.
Like a phantom, he appeared and disappeared all over the island, searching for anything that might lead him to Inna, and when he saw the grey mansion, lit up like a tourist attraction and hanging almost dangerously from a monstrous cliff...
He knew she'd be there.
And she was, draped in cream and glitter, her eyes glazed with euphoria, lips wet with wine.
She was there, in a way he'd never imagined, looking like anything but a follower of God.
But with his adoration came stinging jealousy.
Every man in the room, undressing her with their eyes, praying for her to lean forward and expose a bit of cleavage, hoping for her to smile at them. Rich, handsome men. One had been speaking to Inna when her gaze fell on him.
She couldn't have seen him, but there was no mistaking the look of recognition in her doe eyes. Panic turned his stomach to ice as she began to walk towards him, her legs unsteady.
His senses became uncomfortable acute; each smell bombarded his nostrils, every giggle pierced his head. The music became deafening, synth filling his ears and bass shaking his bones.
'If it feels like you need more, honey...take a walk outside of the yard...'
The vocalist's words became his own thoughts, and the panic worsened.
'There's patches in the dreams now, ah ah...'
Inna continued to approach him, her bewildered expression drawing attention. He needed to get out.
'I haven't got used to the love...'
As he clenched the box between his hands, the former Elliot Spencer felt himself begin to fade from the room, and watched helplessly as Inna cried out and collapsed to the floor.