March 9th 2017

"Please don't go."

"I have to."

"I couldn't live with myself if something were to happen to you."

"I wish I had another choice."

She rode with haste; her dark cloak billowing behind her and anxiety coursing all too fast through tendrils of veins. A sense of dread filled her as her former home came into view. She recalled it as it was. Bright clear skies, the warmth given by the sun, the cobblestone walls that were always so perfectly placed. She remembered when she was a child. Her brother would chase her through the halls like a rabid animal and she would shriek and giggle with such glee that he couldn't help but join in. She would scout the rooms carrying her weapon of choice which was a dusty old broom. Her mighty steed stood by her side and it beared a close resemblance to a two pound puppy. She pretended that she was a great adventurer and she would mumble a commentary as she explored. She knew every inch of the castle; every hiding place memorised. Standing here now; she could almost hear the laughter that used to fill the village and combine with the music to form one perfect harmony. She could smell it; the oven fresh bread that melted in her mouth, the hearty soup that warmed her core on the harshest of winter nights, and even the medicinal lavender. What stood before her wasn't home. How could it be? When he came, he took anything and everything. His fiery breath polluted the skies with suffocating smoke and the deep clouds kept the dormant sun locked away. The once perfect cobblestone was now torn to bits by his powerful jaw and tossed aside into accumulated collections with the rest of the forgotten relics. Her beatific memories were now tainted by the shadows of war. The rooms and halls were one of two things; unrecognisable or gone completely. She was forced to become the great adventurer she had once dreamed and she searched everywhere she could for refuge. Her brother, gone; her mother, gone; her father, gone. She was the last of their bloodline. Their last fleeting hope. She could no longer smell the fresh bread or the soup, not even the lavender. All she could smell was decay and rot. There were no harmonies to fill the dense air, only the cries of the forgotten. A single tear streamed gracefully down her porcelain cheek as she gazed upon the desolation. Her home; gone. Why had she come back? She honestly didn't have the slightest of an idea. She had left this place behind and vowed to never turn back, but yet here she was. She felt drawn to it somehow. There was a tugging in her chest that she just couldn't rid herself of. It pulled at her heartstrings despite her protests and smothered her unconscious form until she couldn't breathe and awoke from shock; gasping and choking as oxygen once again filled her delicate lungs. Perspiration glistened upon her brow. No matter how much he pleaded for her to stay; she just couldn't. She needed closure. She needed to see it once more just to know that it was real. That she had survived. That she survived and no one else did. That was the worst part. The unfortunate truth. The grief was too much for her feeble heart to handle. As she stood deep in thought her eye caught a glimpse of something reflecting the scarce sunlight in the pile of destruction before her. She carefully made her way towards it avoiding and big pieces of rubble. She bent downwards and reached out to touch it. The rocks surrounding it were cold and rough to the touch and she had to dig through them to dislodge the object of interest. Once she had freed it, she brought it closer to her and brushed the dirt and grime off the surface. Her breath hitched and it felt as if her lungs were closing off and stopping the flow of oxygen to her brain. She couldn't believe what she saw. She remembered being in awe by the beauty of it when she saw the intricately carved locket suspended from her mother's neck. She pried it open with some force against the rust dusted hinges. The pictures it contained selfishly were faded ghosts of her past. Her father stood stoically before her. One hand rested on the hilt of his longsword and his other hand was placed softly on her shoulder. His face was only a facade to who he really was. Outside of the portrait he never stopped smiling. He couldn't stop smiling. Beside him stood her mother. Her long ebony hair flowed gracefully over her shoulder and came to an end just before her hip. She smiled confidently. She remembered how much she used to loath her mother's zealous expression. No matter what, she could always keep herself together. She never let emotions take over. She wiped the hot tears that were falling more vigorously now and she thought of how disappointed her mother would be. Royalty can never let another see their emotions. Good thing no one was here, and good thing she wasn't royalty. You can't exactly be a princess when you don't have a castle or a kingdom. Lastly she saw her brother. He had the biggest grin plastered on his face and she could've sworn she heard his laugh behind her. The laugh that never failed to make her smile. She had to glance over her shoulder briefly to be sure. Most days she hated him for that laugh.

"Come on. Just one smile. One for me. Look; I'm smiling."

"Stop being so happy. Can't you see I'm trying to wallow here?"

He lifted her chin so she could see his face and she glared at him. That smile. That stupid, obnoxious, oh so contagious smile. It was so happy that it filled her with rage and envy; not because he was happy, but because she just had to smile with him. There was no other way, no escape. As the sides of her mouth quirked upwards she punched him in the arm playfully. "I hate you."

"Oh come on. You love me and you know it."

She stuck her tongue out at him in response.

She closed the cold locket and held it above her heart in her tremoring, feverish hands. She closed her eyes tightly as the soft crying turned into sobs that wracked her whole body. She didn't hear him approach and she didn't acknowledge his presence until she felt his hand on her shoulder. It was warm and light. Father. No it couldn't be. He was gone and he wasn't coming back. She reached for the hand on her shoulder and placed her hand on top of it. It was rougher than her father's. Worn from endless years of work. She blinked the cloudiness from her eyes and looked up at him. His dark hair was tousled, she deduced that it was most likely from him running his fingers through the thick locks as he worried about her. Something he had a habit of doing when he was worried. His emerald eyes were gleaming which told her that he was probably on the verge of tears.

"You followed me."

He nodded in reply. She stood up and faced him. "But why?"

He locked eyes with her. "I told you I couldn't live with myself." He said in a hushed and reserved tone. She quickly stood and rose to her tiptoes enabling her to wrap her arms around his neck and and she pulled him close so she could bury her face in his strong shoulder. He did the same in her shoulder and he took a deep breath as he held her tightly, afraid to lose her again.

"Don't you ever scare me like that again." He choked.

"I'm so sorry Dmitri."

"I know you are Evelyn."