Of Love Lost

It was supposed to be one of the best days of his life, unfortunately it didn't turn out that way, instead it ended in tragedy and he lost the one person he cared for most.

It was still unclear how the fire had started, it could have been something as simple as the dry grasses that surrounded the old barn, the old barn itself which was just as dry as the grasses or the neglected candle he had brought with him. Each little thing played a role but it was hard to say which had been the catalyst of it all.

He still remembered her face that day, her laughing eyes, green as the summer trees, her rosebud mouth laughing at him and her cinnamon colored hair that blue in the gentle breeze flowing behind her. All those little things he loved about her; his Priscilla.

They had set up a blanket in the old barn for their picnic, a basket of simple things from around town pastries, a loaf of bread dried meats and fruit or a hunk of fresh cheese. Their picnic was nothing special, just a meeting of lovers spending their time together. He, Thomas, had asked Priscilla to marry him and she had gladly accepted, throwing her arms around him kissing him lavishly.

"Oh yes Thomas, I will marry you!" Priscilla exclaimed.

They had kissed for what felt like hours, feeding each other bits of food as they did so. Priscilla sweet laughter reaching his ears; he felt so lucky, as if he had never heard a more beautiful sound.

It was then things got fuzzy. He figured they must have fallen asleep wrapped in each other's arms the remnants of their meal strewn about them. He had awoken to the searing air and the choking inferno, Priscilla had awoken just as quickly, her eyes wide, her mouth open in a silent scream.

Thomas scrambled to his feet reaching around to pull Priscilla after him, to sweep her into his arms and ran out of the burning barn as fast as he could. Unfortunately he wasn't that lucky, just as he was about to run for it something above him snapped and a large beam came down in front of them showering sparks making Priscilla scream.

He feared in that moment they would both perish, but then he remembered the trapdoor in the back of the barn, which fortunately had not been consumed by the flames. (Yet.)

He raced for the door as quickly as he could pulling Priscilla behind him. He pulled his shirt up over his mouth and nose while he tore a piece for Priscilla to do the same and they ran for the trapdoor.

Thomas was the first down throwing the door open as he went. He reached for Priscilla his breath coming in short gasps urged her to hurry after him.

In those moments as he ran he remembered the small or that had been given to him by his grandmother, a relic he kept on his person at all times in her memory. It was rumored the small pearl has some magical ability, but no one even members of the family couldn't be sure. If there was one thing he could use now it was some magic, or more precisely a miracle.

"Help me, help me," he muttered, "help us!" The pearl shimmered, but it could've been a trick of the light from the flames he wasn't sure.

Then it happened. It happened this is in slow-motion he had seen the beam behind her new where it was going but thought they would make it and thought they would be safe and through the tunnel that led to the cellar on the other side before any harm could come to them. He shut his eyes as he heard her scream all he knew was her hand was no longer in his; she was gone.

He was just standing there when she appeared, a slender young woman in a blue dress. Her long brown hair was twisted into a knot at the top of her head.

"Hello my name is Desmell--" she began, floating down in front of him and then her encroaching smile faded as she took in the scene before her.

"Oh dear, I believe even I am too late." She took in the burning ruins although she seemed to be seeing something Thomas could not.

"But you have magic," Thomas insisted, "do something!"

The fairy, her delicate wings shimmering in the light from the fire looked at him sorrowfully."

"As wonderful and glorious as my magic is, it is not omniscient, there is nothing I can do." A single tear shimmered in the fairy's eye, "I am truly sorry." She watched the carnage for a few more minutes then she shimmered and faded away.

 

He never saw her body, by the time they pulled it from the wreckage Priscilla was burned beyond recognition. The doctor, from a short study had said a beam had broken her back; the fire had only added insult to injury. There would have been no help for her even if Thomas had been able to rescue her.

Thomas his face was scratched and scarred from the falling debris and embers, and he had been informed that he would have those scars for the rest of his life. His mother's only response was to shake her head with a soft "tsk" of her tongue and a shake of her head murmuring, "foolish, lovestruck boy" under her breath. The comment never helped Thomas, particularly in his present state he was distraught and no words of comfort would ever suffice.

He felt the stairs everywhere he went, even from the people that walked in and out of the blacksmith shop where he was presently an apprentice. They would only shake their heads and look at him with pity a look he was beginning to detest. The sadness festered inside of him, burning its way towards anger and resentment, he hollowed out a place in his heart for all these things particularly towards Desmell who had failed him. His anger, bitterness and sadness seem to be at war with each other because finally one day he could no longer take it, one day he simply took a rope from the back of the shop… His mind was made up…

It wasn't until many hours later (for this was fairly early in the morning) did anyone find his body it just happened to be the Baker's wife. The only sound that could be heard that morning from the blacksmith's shop was a horrified scream and the sound of a sack of flour bursting and a dozen eggs falling, shattering, on the floor.