Chapter Four: Still Memories
Days turned into nights and nights gave way to the stirring of winter's dance. The bare trees were soon coated in thin layer of ice. His portal to the outside world was frosted over, saved a small square of glass in the middle. From here, he could watch the comings and goings of the courtyard. Servants busying themselves with clearing the cobble stone walk ways of snow, maids carrying full arms of laundry to the wash house, important people coming to speak with his parents. On the street just beyond the gates, horse drawn carriages clattered along, the driver's breath coming in white puffs.
The world moved on, with or without him. Hisoka knew this and nothing could touch the melancholy this thought settled on his soul. The bruises on his face and ribs had healed into faint shades of green. Horrid to look at, but it no longer pained him to breathe, nor smile, should he choose too. It had been weeks since he had made his attempt to escape, as ill- conceived as it was. He needed only wait till the bitterness and loathing he felt towards his family rose back up to the surface and he would once again race across those very same courtyards, seeking a freedom he knew he could never have. The servants were easy enough to bribe, those that weren't greedy still felt pity for the youth. No, that was never the problem. It was the simple truth that he had no where else to go. The villagers would turn him out as soon as look at him for no one wished to risk the wraith of his family. Concealing his features wasn't much of an option. Locks of hair that woven an impossible shade of beaten wheat with streaks of sun-kissed blonde and such jade-colored eyes were unheard of and easy to recognize.
-Browns and black eyes, all of them.- No, that's not true, he corrected himself. - Wakaba has a wonderful eye color, two different shades. And that fool.-
He glanced away from the window, pulling the silk kimono tighter around his slender chest.
-It was because I was avoiding the village that I ended up taking that path. I could have easily gone to the left, seeking the mountain forests or even chancing the harsher wilds of the east. But instead, I kept going straight, picking my way through an undergrowth that must have been untouched for years.-
How clearly he recalled every detail of that faithful day.
Twilight had just pushed itself into the blue of day, forcing the sun to fall against the horizon. The thick bramble of wild raspberries and wild thorn vines came nearly up to his chest, their sharp barbs reaching for his clothing and the soft skin underneath. Yet on he pushed, moving further and further away from the beaten dirt path. Why he had moved forward with all the single mindedness of someone trying to reach a goal confused him, even now in memories. All he knew was that he -had- to keep moving.
Just as the last light was draining from the day, he had stumbled quiet suddenly into a clearing. Amazed and slightly dazed at the abrupt ending of the shrubbery, he glanced back, gently rubbing his cut and bleeding hands. This was no ordinary clearing. The wild bushes had been carefully cut back, framing the massive yard in a huge half circle. Turning, Hisoka's eyes widened as he noticed the faint outlining of a castle, rising from the darkness.
-How had I missed such a thing from the road?-
"Because, it's hard to find something that you aren't looking for. These old buildings have a way of fading into their surroundings."
Tensing at the soft voice which broke the silence, the young man turned, picking out the source of the voice. A shadowy figure stood leaning against one of the trees that dotted the hedges. Besides the masculine voice, it was impossible to tell more about him as if he was wearing the darkness. Hisoka was too startled at the appearance of the stranger to even wonder if he had voiced his question out loud.
"However, next time, I suggest you use the road, boy." There was a faint amused tone to the voice as well as a hint of mockery. "You'll find my front door easier to access than the back."
Hisoka was never one that fell easily to extreme emotions, but once a nerve was struck, his temper was nothing short of terrifying. He disliked the contempt of the speaker's voice, but what really shook him was the fact he hadn't been able to -sense- the newcomer. Even now, the silence of his mind was unnerving and unnatural. It made him on edge and very alert.
-This person, I sense something very strange about him.-
"My name isn't boy. It's Hisoka." He said, low and even.
Without realizing it, he had taken a step back, slightly rising his hands into a defensive position. There was something not right about this person. He could -feel- it.
"Why not come out of the shadows and we'll see how tough you talk without their security."
To his added astonishment, the figure simply chuckled, a light, almost sad sound.
"You're bleeding, in poor health and even trespassing, yet you don't apologize for intruding on my home. To top it off, you seek to make me the criminal by insulting my honor as a host and hinting me a coward."
The speaker stepped away from the tree, moving into the clear light of a freshly risen moon.
Hisoka felt his breath catch in his throat at the sight of the man.
It wasn't the chocolate colored hair that fell loosely around his face, nor even the gentle, almost feminine features it framed that caused his soul to shiver. For as the man stepped closer to him, he rose his eyes to lock with his own steady gaze.
They were violet. And not just a simple shade of lavender. They were all the colors of an amethyst and each faucet reflected so much sorrow, that for an instant, Hisoka thought he might drown in it.
Soft, cold fingers lightly touched the side of his face, brushing away a strand of hair from his cheek. -How did he get so close? Wasn't he just by that tree?- Hisoka instincts were screaming at him to pull back, to end the contact and get as far away from here as he could. But try as he might, nothing made that connection to his muscles and he remained frozen, hands slowly lowering to his sides. The words of anger died on his lips, his throat locked up as surely as if someone had pinched it shut. The longer his fingers stayed pressed against his flesh, the harder it became to breathe. As if some drug was overpowering him, it was becoming nearly impossible to keep his eyes focused.
Those shocking gem-like eyes studied his face, blurring in and out of range.
"You're cute when you're quite." He seemed to decide something and slowly drew his hand away. "You have a fever. I suggest you rest. Your little trip through my garden couldn't have done you any favors."
"I." Hisoka felt the ground give away, overwhelmed by the sudden pounding in his head. He could feel his cheeks flush with color as the man reached forward, easily catching him in his arms. He hadn't noticed it before, but the long coat the man was wearing was made of crushed black velvet and felt like heaven against his feverish skin. A whispered scent of cherry blossoms teased his senses and than darkness.
Everything after that was obscure. Bits and pieces of it came back to him, especially when he was nearing that fine line between dreams and reality. Thinking about it was a guaranteed headache, but from what he could gather the stranger had either brought him to the front of the main houses gates, or he had stumbled back there himself three days later.
By the time he had recovered from the fever enough to move about, Hisoka was torn between thinking the happenings a dream and the many healing cuts and scrapes from thorns that told him otherwise. Part of him begged to just leave it alone the. But there were too many questions and only one person that could give him answers.
Looking back on it now, the youth wondered if he had been doomed from the first second he decided to go straight instead of left. It seemed a catalyst to the chain of events that are long since out of his control, losing him in a strange mixture of fate and insanity. Maybe he could have just written the whole thing off as a waking reverie and maybe he would have been better for it.
Amethyst eyes haunted his dreams and come spring, he left the main house again. Only this time he wasn't running away.
His footsteps lead him straight to the castle without encouragement or much thought. As it loomed up before him, Hisoka paused, amazed at how differently the place looked from the front. The circle of thorn bushes from the back closed around the building's sides in an embrace of foliage. Gripping and climbing up the ancient bricks, the bramble dominated the castle walls.
-A castle of thorns.-
Days turned into nights and nights gave way to the stirring of winter's dance. The bare trees were soon coated in thin layer of ice. His portal to the outside world was frosted over, saved a small square of glass in the middle. From here, he could watch the comings and goings of the courtyard. Servants busying themselves with clearing the cobble stone walk ways of snow, maids carrying full arms of laundry to the wash house, important people coming to speak with his parents. On the street just beyond the gates, horse drawn carriages clattered along, the driver's breath coming in white puffs.
The world moved on, with or without him. Hisoka knew this and nothing could touch the melancholy this thought settled on his soul. The bruises on his face and ribs had healed into faint shades of green. Horrid to look at, but it no longer pained him to breathe, nor smile, should he choose too. It had been weeks since he had made his attempt to escape, as ill- conceived as it was. He needed only wait till the bitterness and loathing he felt towards his family rose back up to the surface and he would once again race across those very same courtyards, seeking a freedom he knew he could never have. The servants were easy enough to bribe, those that weren't greedy still felt pity for the youth. No, that was never the problem. It was the simple truth that he had no where else to go. The villagers would turn him out as soon as look at him for no one wished to risk the wraith of his family. Concealing his features wasn't much of an option. Locks of hair that woven an impossible shade of beaten wheat with streaks of sun-kissed blonde and such jade-colored eyes were unheard of and easy to recognize.
-Browns and black eyes, all of them.- No, that's not true, he corrected himself. - Wakaba has a wonderful eye color, two different shades. And that fool.-
He glanced away from the window, pulling the silk kimono tighter around his slender chest.
-It was because I was avoiding the village that I ended up taking that path. I could have easily gone to the left, seeking the mountain forests or even chancing the harsher wilds of the east. But instead, I kept going straight, picking my way through an undergrowth that must have been untouched for years.-
How clearly he recalled every detail of that faithful day.
Twilight had just pushed itself into the blue of day, forcing the sun to fall against the horizon. The thick bramble of wild raspberries and wild thorn vines came nearly up to his chest, their sharp barbs reaching for his clothing and the soft skin underneath. Yet on he pushed, moving further and further away from the beaten dirt path. Why he had moved forward with all the single mindedness of someone trying to reach a goal confused him, even now in memories. All he knew was that he -had- to keep moving.
Just as the last light was draining from the day, he had stumbled quiet suddenly into a clearing. Amazed and slightly dazed at the abrupt ending of the shrubbery, he glanced back, gently rubbing his cut and bleeding hands. This was no ordinary clearing. The wild bushes had been carefully cut back, framing the massive yard in a huge half circle. Turning, Hisoka's eyes widened as he noticed the faint outlining of a castle, rising from the darkness.
-How had I missed such a thing from the road?-
"Because, it's hard to find something that you aren't looking for. These old buildings have a way of fading into their surroundings."
Tensing at the soft voice which broke the silence, the young man turned, picking out the source of the voice. A shadowy figure stood leaning against one of the trees that dotted the hedges. Besides the masculine voice, it was impossible to tell more about him as if he was wearing the darkness. Hisoka was too startled at the appearance of the stranger to even wonder if he had voiced his question out loud.
"However, next time, I suggest you use the road, boy." There was a faint amused tone to the voice as well as a hint of mockery. "You'll find my front door easier to access than the back."
Hisoka was never one that fell easily to extreme emotions, but once a nerve was struck, his temper was nothing short of terrifying. He disliked the contempt of the speaker's voice, but what really shook him was the fact he hadn't been able to -sense- the newcomer. Even now, the silence of his mind was unnerving and unnatural. It made him on edge and very alert.
-This person, I sense something very strange about him.-
"My name isn't boy. It's Hisoka." He said, low and even.
Without realizing it, he had taken a step back, slightly rising his hands into a defensive position. There was something not right about this person. He could -feel- it.
"Why not come out of the shadows and we'll see how tough you talk without their security."
To his added astonishment, the figure simply chuckled, a light, almost sad sound.
"You're bleeding, in poor health and even trespassing, yet you don't apologize for intruding on my home. To top it off, you seek to make me the criminal by insulting my honor as a host and hinting me a coward."
The speaker stepped away from the tree, moving into the clear light of a freshly risen moon.
Hisoka felt his breath catch in his throat at the sight of the man.
It wasn't the chocolate colored hair that fell loosely around his face, nor even the gentle, almost feminine features it framed that caused his soul to shiver. For as the man stepped closer to him, he rose his eyes to lock with his own steady gaze.
They were violet. And not just a simple shade of lavender. They were all the colors of an amethyst and each faucet reflected so much sorrow, that for an instant, Hisoka thought he might drown in it.
Soft, cold fingers lightly touched the side of his face, brushing away a strand of hair from his cheek. -How did he get so close? Wasn't he just by that tree?- Hisoka instincts were screaming at him to pull back, to end the contact and get as far away from here as he could. But try as he might, nothing made that connection to his muscles and he remained frozen, hands slowly lowering to his sides. The words of anger died on his lips, his throat locked up as surely as if someone had pinched it shut. The longer his fingers stayed pressed against his flesh, the harder it became to breathe. As if some drug was overpowering him, it was becoming nearly impossible to keep his eyes focused.
Those shocking gem-like eyes studied his face, blurring in and out of range.
"You're cute when you're quite." He seemed to decide something and slowly drew his hand away. "You have a fever. I suggest you rest. Your little trip through my garden couldn't have done you any favors."
"I." Hisoka felt the ground give away, overwhelmed by the sudden pounding in his head. He could feel his cheeks flush with color as the man reached forward, easily catching him in his arms. He hadn't noticed it before, but the long coat the man was wearing was made of crushed black velvet and felt like heaven against his feverish skin. A whispered scent of cherry blossoms teased his senses and than darkness.
Everything after that was obscure. Bits and pieces of it came back to him, especially when he was nearing that fine line between dreams and reality. Thinking about it was a guaranteed headache, but from what he could gather the stranger had either brought him to the front of the main houses gates, or he had stumbled back there himself three days later.
By the time he had recovered from the fever enough to move about, Hisoka was torn between thinking the happenings a dream and the many healing cuts and scrapes from thorns that told him otherwise. Part of him begged to just leave it alone the. But there were too many questions and only one person that could give him answers.
Looking back on it now, the youth wondered if he had been doomed from the first second he decided to go straight instead of left. It seemed a catalyst to the chain of events that are long since out of his control, losing him in a strange mixture of fate and insanity. Maybe he could have just written the whole thing off as a waking reverie and maybe he would have been better for it.
Amethyst eyes haunted his dreams and come spring, he left the main house again. Only this time he wasn't running away.
His footsteps lead him straight to the castle without encouragement or much thought. As it loomed up before him, Hisoka paused, amazed at how differently the place looked from the front. The circle of thorn bushes from the back closed around the building's sides in an embrace of foliage. Gripping and climbing up the ancient bricks, the bramble dominated the castle walls.
-A castle of thorns.-