stem she was holding, she
noticed the daisies on both sides of her name as it set in Vandor’s
palm. She slowly reached to pick it up. She saw ‘love Vandor’ in
the center circle, and lifted her eyes to him again, “Do you love
me Vandor?”
Her voice was soft, her
look so beautiful and honest. Kyla’s whole essence pleaded to know
his heart.
Vandor stared into her eyes, knowing
it was now or never, “I do Kayla. I have always loved
you.”
“I have forever waited for
this moment. From since you first told me as children, I have
desired so to hear it again,” she gasped. “I too love you Vandor,
with all my heart!”
The fear was gone, replaced
with relief and excitement which words could not express, giving
way to a freedom he had longed for. Even hearing her say the words
was like a dream he would awaken from at any moment.
“I was afraid you did not feel the
same,” he confessed.
“And I thought it was only a childish
crush you had all but forgotten,” she admitted.
“I often desired to tell you, but fear
did move me from saying so.”
Kayla slid the ring on her
finger, “I accept your love Vandor, and freely give you my heart in
return,” she said with excitement.
Their hearts nervously beat
in rhythm. Eyes met, and they slightly bowed toward one another. A
pause, as the sunlight glowed between their facial silhouettes.
Their eyes closed, as they felt the warmth of the other’s breath
upon their skin. A soft moist press of the lips, long awaited, it
was a most cherished moment by both. Little more than a peck, but
smiles covered their faces. Freshness filled the air that
overshadowed the smell of the flowers. It must be love. It was in
their tear-filled eyes. I love
you…
Desire for the
Supernatural
Rayhold saw Vandor kiss
Kayla among the flowers, as he slipped into the oaks and sycamores
around the village. He had been looking for them, but now did not
seem to be the time.
It was no secret to him
that these two shared a fondness for one another, but it did seem
to hinder their friendship somewhat. With Vandor and Kayla spending
more time together, it left Rayhold feeling somewhat unwanted and
alone. They never discouraged his fellowship, nor appeared to not
want him around, but he began to feel like a fifth leg to a wart
hog: simply just in the way. It wasn’t really jealousy, he told
himself. It just was.
For some time, maybe six
months or more, Rayhold had secretly been meeting with an
individual by the name of Onyx. A dark fellow, though not in skin
tone, for he was quite white. Not the Caucasian white, nor the
albino, but more the type that accompanied death. He was a pale,
with grey eyes, wearing a hooded black cloak, seemingly able to
glide from place to place without being noticed.
Peculiar indeed, but most
inquisitive was Rayhold about Oynx. Not to mention his special
abilities, as Oynx enjoyed calling his scorcery. Rayhold knew very
well it was against the law, but ever since their first encounter
he craved to learn more. To understand more of the socalled
talents, along with develop the power to exercise them himself.
This Onyx claimed all men had, but few there were who dug into the
depth of themselves to allow such forces of power to flow forth
from them.
§ § § §
On the night of the full
moon, sometime last fall, Rayhold was near the edge of the village.
He was practicing with his dagger from MaZak upon a rotten oak
stump, when Onyx startled him from behind. Rayhold felt uneasy at
first, with a sudden sense of chill in the air. Though slightly
uncomfortable, there was an enticement about Onyx which held
Rayhold there.
Is this a servant of
Darkness or a danger to the village ,
Rayhold thought. He did not know, for it was no doubt a stranger
unknown in Nesal. He stood motionless wanting to draw first,
already being caught off guard. Unsure of who and what, seconds
seemed like minutes. Odd, he felt scared, though not,
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