Truth Behind the Lies
I stood staring at the church. The first rays of sunlight causing the tombstones to cast long shadows, and changing everything a beautiful shade of gold. A dawn wedding, symbolic of the new start to out lives.
When the light dared to pierce the shadowy edifice before me, it shone through beautifully crafted stained glass windows. I imagined the patterns and colours it must make and the swirling dust motes dancing in the light. It would be beautiful. Perfect. All I could see were the tombstones that stood like watchful sentinels; reminders of a haunted past and premonitions of a turbulent future.
Tombstones aside it was beautiful. An isolated church on the outskirts of Winhill; the perfect setting for a fairytale wedding of a knight and his princess. And not just any knight and his princess, the saviours of the world. We were the new breed of celebrities; a group that people could admire not just for being pretty faces but for being strong, brave, noble and true. The wedding of Rinoa and I was just the icing on the cake. But I didn't want to marry her.
I had confided this to Zell the night before, to try to explain how I felt and to open up to someone as they have all tried to make me do - although for purely selfish reasons. I had hoped that he would call everything off and I would be spared the embarrassment and pressure. He had just laughed it off and had told me that everyone gets cold feet before their wedding and it was nothing to worry about. It was and still is.
Two hours before I had been fine, two hours before I had thought that maybe I really did love Rinoa the way I was supposed to, but as time had worn and the drink had increased I knew that I did not. It's funny isn't it that you do your clearest thinking in an alcohol induced fog, all the barriers are down and you can admit the truth to yourself and others, and so there was that desperate, drunken confession.
It was my stag night, my last night of bachelor freedom before I committed my life to the woman I loved, or thought I loved. During the Sorceress Wars I had truly believed that I loved her; she was easy to love. Beautiful, bubbly, charming, outgoing, everything that I was not. She was the light to my darkness, the yin to my yang. It was picture perfect and so it could never be real; because you see, perfection does not exist, and things that seem perfect hide only corruption.
I stood staring at the church. The first rays of sunlight causing the tombstones to cast long shadows, and changing everything a beautiful shade of gold. A dawn wedding, symbolic of the new start to out lives.
When the light dared to pierce the shadowy edifice before me, it shone through beautifully crafted stained glass windows. I imagined the patterns and colours it must make and the swirling dust motes dancing in the light. It would be beautiful. Perfect. All I could see were the tombstones that stood like watchful sentinels; reminders of a haunted past and premonitions of a turbulent future.
Tombstones aside it was beautiful. An isolated church on the outskirts of Winhill; the perfect setting for a fairytale wedding of a knight and his princess. And not just any knight and his princess, the saviours of the world. We were the new breed of celebrities; a group that people could admire not just for being pretty faces but for being strong, brave, noble and true. The wedding of Rinoa and I was just the icing on the cake. But I didn't want to marry her.
I had confided this to Zell the night before, to try to explain how I felt and to open up to someone as they have all tried to make me do - although for purely selfish reasons. I had hoped that he would call everything off and I would be spared the embarrassment and pressure. He had just laughed it off and had told me that everyone gets cold feet before their wedding and it was nothing to worry about. It was and still is.
Two hours before I had been fine, two hours before I had thought that maybe I really did love Rinoa the way I was supposed to, but as time had worn and the drink had increased I knew that I did not. It's funny isn't it that you do your clearest thinking in an alcohol induced fog, all the barriers are down and you can admit the truth to yourself and others, and so there was that desperate, drunken confession.
It was my stag night, my last night of bachelor freedom before I committed my life to the woman I loved, or thought I loved. During the Sorceress Wars I had truly believed that I loved her; she was easy to love. Beautiful, bubbly, charming, outgoing, everything that I was not. She was the light to my darkness, the yin to my yang. It was picture perfect and so it could never be real; because you see, perfection does not exist, and things that seem perfect hide only corruption.