PRE STORY NOTE: Well, I don't really have an excuse for waiting two years to update a story that I started four years ago. a lot's happened. I graduated high school, joined the navy, left the navy, spent a tour of time as a homeless person, and reestablished myself! Anyways, I've never once stopped wishing that I'd finished this story . So even though most of its fans are gone now, I wholly intend to resume it. Should anyone remember it and see it now I thank you for your patience.
Chapter 7: The forsaken lover and the fallen snow
Winter's first snow had come at last, bringing with it a blanket of pristine white which covered the plains beside Hamona's castle. The unbroken color made the outside world seem a massive ocean, and the pair of sisters who ruled over it enjoyed the spectacle from afar. They sat on the outer balcony near their ramparts, regarding one another with a tender kindness that neither of them truly felt.
"How long has it been, Hamona-dear? Since we saw him last?" Jagara asked earnestly, bringing a glass of blood-red wine to her lips. The younger girl's eyes swelled with tears at the question.
"Almost four months, I believe. I fear for his safety." She kept her gaze on the field before her, not wanting to see the sadistic delight in her sister's face.
"There's no need for that. He's one invincible young man." Jagara replied, the corners of her mouth curling into a smile. "But he's also young… perhaps he just grew weary of you, yes? Some other girl caught his attention, I'll bet. It was bound to happen. Even noble men are quick to abandon their promises when more appealing prey approaches."
"Darcia is not that kind of person. He would only keep me away if he feared for me." She tried to say this with confidence, but her sister's words caused her face to twist in agony, and the tears she'd been holding back started to flow. Jagara savored each tear as it appeared, tiny victories in her battle against the woman she hated. Oh! How she wished Hamona would look up at her, would see the reflection of her broken self in Jagara's eyes!
"All men are that kind of person. We girls lead a tough existance. To men we are sport, and to other women we are competition. One could almost say that the only thing you'll ever be to anyone is an object of lust and hatred. That pretty face of yours is a darker curse than anything you could ever endure."
"You're wrong!" As Hamona said this her body went rigid with anger. Her visage implied that she wished to say more, but her voice was too chocked with tears for her to utter another sound.
"Am I?" Jaggara began again. In truth, Darcia's disappearance troubled her deeply as well. She had never been certain whether her feelings for him were truly love, or if she merely desired him
because he belonged to her sister. Either way, she wanted him and would posess him at any cost. If it was out of competition that she longed for him, she could simply dicard him once the thrill had expired.
With her long, elegant fingers she reached over to her sister, gently stroking her golden hair away from her eyes, and wiping the tears from beneath them. Her voice became more gentle and understanding.
"Perhaps I am. We've known him our entire lives, haven't we? Inseperable since birth. Why don't you go and ask him yourself? "
"I've tried often. He's always away, and our secret meeting places have gone forgotten since the summer."
"His servants told you he was away?" Jagara's question was met with a slow nod from Hamona "And you let it rest at that, knowing he's trying to hide himself? How unlike you… maybe you truly are afraid to see him in another woman's arms?" Hamona shook her head again, drawing her cloak about her shoulders as though suddenly becoming aware of the cold morning air. Snow had begun falling once again, slowly and gently. For a moment the two sisters sat in silence, allowing the descending powder to streak their golden hair with white. The flakes melted on their skin, the cold refreshing and the world around them beautiful and fragrant as only the winter can be. Hatred and sorrow were forgotten for just that moment, and they were true sisters: women of common blood being swept away in the endless glamour of nature.
The blanket of snow before him gave way to his footfalls as he charged. Darting ahead with a haste impressive despite his years, the old wolf made his way toward the keep of Darcia. His eyes were a shade of brown so dark they almost appeared black, and his white fur was so clean and immaculate that he seemed a specter as he ran against the flurry of the weather. Humans nearby would likely have paid him no special attention, but all the rest of nature knew the significance of his presence. The woods around him grew silent as he approached. Deer and moose fled, squirrels and birds sat silently in their trees all of the natural world bowed in reverence as he passed. The great white wolf was here! Odin, the keeper of paradise, had emerged to the outside world for the first time in decades.
"The blood moon is approaching." He thought simply as he charged. "Tenmei has proven himself less than reliable. If he does not oversee the Noble Lord Darcia as I commanded he may well jeopardize our path to Heaven."
A feeling of great momentum seemed to swell throughout the land of Darcia, fluid motion that could not be stopped or controlled. Neither the elder, nor his grandson could escape from this merciless tide: from this destiny that now lay in wait for them like a snare. The approaching wolf was a beacon of calamity for all the actors in this performance.