Snowdown Tales

Chapter Three—LeBlanc's Memory

Emilia stared deeply into flames burning in the library's fireplace. Her violet fingernails tapped on the arm of the loveseat chair she sat in, sighing deeply. She folded her knee over her leg while she brushed back her dark behind her ear.

The deceiver glanced down at a large ring on her finger, glowering. It was her mother's ring. Emilia yanked the ring off her finger and glared into the amethyst gem. Getting to her feet, Emilia clutched the jewelry in her fist and walked to the fireplace.

"This time of year brings back the worst memories." She whispered as she held her fist over the flames.

"Ah, Emilia. I thought I would find you in here." Said a voice behind LeBlanc. She turned and saw Jericho Swain slowly making his way towards her. His face was covered but she could see joy in his eyes. Even Beatrice seemed happy to see the deceiver.

"Good afternoon, Jericho." Emilia smiled at him. Swain hobbled his way over to the loveseat and sat, patting the spot next to him.

"What are you doing in here, sweetheart?" Asked Jericho, leaning his cane against the couch.

"I was just dwelling on the past." She answered as she opened her hand and looked at the ring. Her eyes narrowed at it before she slipped it back on her finger.

Emilia sat beside Jericho, patting Beatrice's feathers as she made herself comfortable. Jericho grabbed her hand, looking at the ring. He slipped it off her slender hand and examined it closely.

"Your mother?" Swain shook his head, knowing the answer already. "Emilia, that was decades ago."

"I still remember what she said to me—clear as day."

"Emilia—"

"How could you call your child a witch and toss her away like trash? I understand that my magic is… unusual… but that gave her no right!" Emilia shouted.

"Emilia, your mother loved you. As do I. So please, let us enjoy this holiday together." Swain said as he struggled to get to his feet, leaving his cane by the couch. LeBlanc shot to her feet, holding onto her friend's hands to keep him from falling.

"Jericho! Your cane!" She whispered.

"Dance with me, Emilia."

"What?"

"Do you remember the day we met?" He asked, touching her face softly. Jericho slipped Emilia's ring back on her finger.

"Yes. It was Snowdown many years ago, my mother had just thrown me out from our home, and I made my down to an empty bar. At least I thought it was empty." She smiled, lacing her fingers with Jericho's. "There was a handsome young man sitting at the bar and he asked me to dance with him."

"We practically danced until the new year." Swain chuckled as he stepped back, moving his feet slowly. He grunted as he tried to keep a steady rhythm. Emilia stopped him—she could see his leg was causing him pain.

"Don't. We aren't as young as we used to be."

"I would beg to differ." Swain said as he brushed his fingers across Emilia's fair skin. "You've been just as beautiful as when I first saw you. I wanted to wait until the sun set but I have something for you." Jericho reached in his pocket. He pulled out a long, velvet box and handed it to Emilia. She looked down at it, blushing.

"Jericho…" She whispered as she took it case. She slowly opened it to find a gold necklace with a black gem in the shape of a rose. "It's beautiful!"

"Happy Snowdown, Emilia."

"Happy Snowdown, my Jericho."

Happy Snowdown to everyone.

Please don't fight with your family and loved ones—or the flaming top laner.