~~ Sparks fly as metal clashes against metal. The sounds of battle rise above the bodies of soldiers. I clutch my wounded shoulder feverishly. I search for my comrades, but my vision is obscured through the cloud of dust and blood.  The ground that was once lush and green is now burned black coated with ash for the burning forest nearby. We stand at the junction between the two great mountains, making our final stand against our enemy. I gaze up at the grey colored sky, this is no longer the land of kings and queens, for this must truly be hell. Someone grabs my arms and spins me around. I start to grab for my sword. My eyes are wide in panic until I see two familiar and gorgeously sculpted faces.

      Aiden looks at me intently as Break stands ready in a protective stance. Aiden pulls me toward the scorched forest line, they both keep their swords in hand.

“Aiden, what are you doing?” I have to yell over the cries of battle. He doesn’t even glance back at me.

“The King and Queen have called for you.” I struggle against his grip.

“I won’t abandon my people! Let me go-" He pulls harder and moves faster into the trees.

“The battle is lost, can’t you see that! You are the princess, not a foot soldier!” My breath catches in my throat. We run through the underbrush, the wails of my soldiers have quieted down. Tears threaten to spill from my eyes. I feel Break put his hand on the small of my back, a comforting gesture, yet wasted. We break through the clearing to reveal a large tree in the center of a grove covered in ash. Light does not seep through the tree tops, only shadows. My mother finishes carving something onto the tree as I step toward my father.

"What's going on here? We are in the middle of a battle," I scream at them both. My mother only shakes her head and continues on with her back to me.

“What was so important that I had to leave my company?” I glare at him. He shakes his head, my father looks ten years older than he really is. War had aged him greatly.

“A new development has occurred.” Is all he says, as if that was explanation enough. My hands clench and unclench by the hilt of my sword. He nods at the two men at my side.
“Send them back to the Spirit World. We have no more need of them.”

"What do you mean? They are the best fighters we have! How dare you-"

"That was an order!" I flinch at his tone. I didn’t want to send them back, even though they needed to be. The Spirit World, their original world was the only place they could heal and regain their strength. I looked them both over. It amazes me they could still stand with such wounds, but then again, they are no ordinary men. Break takes my hand and gives it a slight squeeze. I give him a gentle smile and release his hand. I glance over at Aiden, his heated gaze sends a shiver down my spine. Closing my eyes I visualize them back in their own world.

     The air around me grows warm, then deathly cold. My eyes open and they are gone. My mother leads me toward the tree which she had carved several symbols into. I look at her; her face is as still as stone, with gloomy eyes. My father turns me to face him so that my back is to the tree. I look at them in question, not understanding the situation.

“We are going to lose this war.” My eyes widen and I look at both of them. No, we can’t give up! I can not believe what my ears are hearing.
“Make no mistake, we will fight till our last breath leaves our lungs. I understand now though that we will not win this war, but that doesn’t mean it will be finished with our deaths.”

I shake my head, “I don’t understand.” My father gives me a warm smile and takes me into his arms.

“I fear more for the future than I do our present, my daughter. I fear there will be no one left to fight those whose ideals threaten our very existence. We have no choice, but to gamble for the good of the future.” He releases me and gives me a stern look,

“We cannot let them win, you understand? No matter the circumstance, promise me that you won’t let them win.” Shakily, I nod my head at his severe tone. My mother’s hand sweeps my bangs from my forehead.

“We love you, so much, remember that. You are our miracle and you are your people’s North Star.” She says with tears brimming her eyes. I glance at them both frantically. Why are they saying all this? What is going on?

“One day you will understand our sacrifice…goodbye.” He shoves me hard, away from them. I wait for the tree to hit my back, but I keep falling. My arms flail out, as I began to be ripped away from them.

“Remember your promise, Sheeta.” I cling to my father’s whisper as darkness encased my vision. I scream, but no one can hear me now.

2: Awakening

~~            I moan as I feel the light trying to tear through my eye lids. The whispers above my head sound like the buzzing flies in the summer.

“Shh, I think she’s waking up.” There is someone in my chamber. Why is someone in my chamber? My eyes snap open and I lurch forward, ready to protect myself. I blink against the light as my eyes quickly adjust. The three dark shadows change as I recognize the figures to be people. They stand away from me, eyes wide. A woman that looks to be forty blows out a heavy sigh and steps toward me.

“Good Lord, you scared us!” She gives me a gentle, motherly smile, “How do you feel dear?” I blink at her, she wears strange clothes and she speaks with misplaced familiarity. I glance at the remaining two.

     A man and a girl, that looks to be my age, stand against the adjacent wall in caution. I stare at each of them, looking into their eyes. Through their eyes I see their souls, pale yet warm.

“So you’re human then, that explains the clothes.” I swing my legs off the side of the cot and hop down. I grip the bed as my head spins and my feet stumble. I feel a hand on my arm trying to steady me; it’s the young human girl. I narrow my eyes and rip my arm away from her grasp. She looks at me, startled, then annoyed.

“I was only trying to help, you don’t have to be-“

“I don’t recall asking for it human, know your place.” Her eyes widen and her nostrils flare.

“M-my place! Why I-” Her words are silenced as another enters the room. He’s at least thirty by the looks of him. His eyes lock on mine.

“Milady,” He sweeps his arm into a low bow before me. My back straightens and my muscles clench in caution. “I apologize for this, rude, awakening.” I cross my arms,

“And just who is apologizing might I ask?” He stands up and gives me a toothy grin. He boldly makes eye contact with me,

“Jameson Lindale, of the –“

“Of the Lindale clan, house of warlocks, correct?” I perch myself on the bed, arms still crossed. I tap my foot impatiently as he continues his explanation.

“Yes, and these are the Campbell’s, the human family in charge of your safekeeping.” For my safekeeping he says? He must be joking, no human, would ever be charged with my safekeeping. Mostly because no one is capable of taking care of myself better than me. I make the point of letting the guards know that, constantly. Jameson clears his throat, as if he was reading my thoughts he replies,

“It was less suspicious to have a human family guard you so that no one found your resting place.” I eye him; he is dressed differently as well. I lick my teeth, my tongue feels like sandpaper. The last thing I remember was being pushed by my father into a tree, then darkness.

“How long, exactly, have I been sleeping?” I notice the humans exchange glances with each other. Jameson holds a gloomy and precautious expression.

“You’ve been asleep for around one thousand years, milady.” My mind does a 180° as I soak in his words. A thousand years, of sleeping? Impossible I was just with my parents a few moments ago. I was fighting, I glance at myself. I am no longer wearing my uniform, but instead a simple white dress. What really catches my attention about my appearance is that my wounds were healed. I grip my shoulder expecting pain, but nothing comes.

      I look at him frantically, “The war, my kingdom, my parents, what happened to them?” He looks down at his shoes as he answers.

“Gone, your kingdom and parents are gone, milady.” I cover my eyes with my hands and begin to concentrate my thoughts. I try to feel their essence, but nothing comes to me. All I feel is a cold emptiness that surrounds me like a blanket.

“The war has been dealt with. A truce on both sides, it was decided after the King and Queen died.” I look at him, my eyes searching his,

“Liar,” he takes a step back at my accusation, as if my hard tone had actually hit him. I grip the sheets with my hands and glare. “If there truly was a truce, my kingdom wouldn’t be gone you fool.” I look at the humans than back at Jameson. These are not my people. It was clear to me that these were people who thought they owned me. They knew nothing of me, nor the past of which I’d come from. To them I was just words on paper stuck together with glue. I cross my ankles, straighten my back and smiled cruelly.

“Time has made you weak and dulled your senses, warlock of the Lindale clan. My eyes see all, your lies and your soul. You can hide nothing from me.” His mouth hangs open, agape in shock.

“So the legend is true, the last true royal of the family of Sangreal does possess the True Sight!” He looks at me as if I were a diamond in a glass case.

“Tell me what happened to me, exactly, and where the hell I am.” He nods enthusiastically, but it is the human man that steps forward.

“You were sealed into the Tree of Ages, which is still in our backyard, by the late Queen. This is my house and you are in a city called Maple Creek.” I looked up and did some quick math in my head, by my calculations, it is the year 2014.

 

3: Something Old and Something New

~~            I am led upstairs by the human girl, into what I guess is her chamber. The walls are painted a pale green. The room sports a double bed, wardrobe and a desk. The items seem familiar, but are styled differently from what I remember. I try to take everything about this new world in, but it is all so confusing.

“Here, these should fit you.” She hands me a coarse blue fabric as well as a soft white one. I hold each one up to the light that, mysteriously, sprouts from the ceiling. The girl sighs and takes the clothes from me.

“These,” she holds up the blue fabric, “Are jeans, you put your legs in them, like pants. This,” she holds up the white fabric next, “Is a tank top, you wear it during warm days, its worn as a shirt.” I nod and take the fabric from her. I raise the white dress over my head and discard it on the floor. I marvel at the cloth that remained on me. I finger it, but it quickly snaps back to its original place.

“That is a sports bra; you’re bigger than me so until we go shopping, that will have to do. Keep it on alright?”

I look at her, “Why?”

She sighs again, “It’s a way to protect a girl’s…um, modesty.” I nod and pick up the jeans. I look to the girl, she is wearing something similar. I look back at my pair then return my gaze to hers. First I believe I am to put one leg into each hole. The fabric rubs against my skin, it feels odd. I tug them up and glance back at her. I do the zipper up and button them. I run my hands down my thighs, I do a quick turn. They are confining, but are fitted so they do not get in the way, as most dresses do. They would be good in a fight. Next I lift the shirt up, the bottom flares out and reminds me of a small dress.

        I raise it and stick my head through the second largest hole. I look at her again and gingerly put my arms through the holes on either side me. I tug it down and smooth it out. I look at her one more time and she gives me nod of confirmation. I smile to myself, thinking this world isn’t so difficult. The girl turns to the leave the room, but I call out to her,

“Thank you.” She stops and turns to look at me slowly. It occurs to me that she and I were probably going to see each other a lot based on the fact I am to stay in her home. I think better of my previous actions and wish to make peace with her.

“I am sorry if I offended you earlier, it was not my intention.”

She gives me a cautious smile, “It’s not a big deal. And you don’t have to thank me, they’re just clothes.” I follow her out of her room into another spacious one. It is a pale brown that contains light streaming in from all different angles.
“What is your name?” I ask her while she sits down on a large cushion raised off the ground.

“It’s Amy, Amy Campbell. You can just call me Amy though.” She tucks in her legs underneath her. I glance at the cushions. I slowly sit down next to her; it was soft and comfortable. I quickly relax into it.

“You may call me Sheeta. It is my given name. Does everyone call each other by their first names here?” She tells me yes, but she uses last names for her instructors or people of high stature. I drew my knees up and rest my chin on them. It was a gesture I would never use unless I was alone in my quarters, but Amy’s presence gives me a sense of ease. I ask her if she knows anything else about what had happened to me.

“Not really, people are very hush, hush about it. All I know is that the princess of the old kingdom that once ruled this land was sleeping in the tree in our backyard. My parents told me it was our duty to protect the tree as well as the princess, if she, I mean you, ever woke up.” I nod in understanding and tug on a strand of my hair.

“Truthfully I thought it was a big hoax, but I guess not. It’s not like anybody gave us a time or date for when you’d wake up. It all happened so suddenly and out of the blue, you know?” It bothers me how much of the situation I did not know. I don’t even know why I woke up when I did. I don’t even know why I was sealed in that tree in the first place. I blink and look up at Amy. She stares at me like she just asked me a question.

“I’m sorry, did you say something?” She sighs again; I noticed that she sighed a lot.

“I said, are you hungry and do you want something to eat?” My stomach didn’t hurt in hunger, but in reflection, I hadn’t eaten in one thousand years. We walk into another room which she calls the kitchen. It was very shiny and filled all sorts of objects. She points to each one and tells me what they were. First was the fridge, that was the biggest; it was to be used to storage food and keep things cold for you. Next was the stove, second largest, she tells me it is like a cooking fire, but I was not to use it yet. She points to a variety of drawers and lists out the utensils, cups, bowls and plates. She quickly fixes me a sandwich and puts it on a plate in front of me. I pick it up with both hands and take a bite.

      I chew on it thoughtfully and finally swallow. Not bad, it somehow seems off to me, but it tastes alright so I keep eating. I only eat half, my stomach begins protesting to it, probably because it forgot how to digest food while I was sleeping. Amy picked up my plate and put it into what she calls a dishwasher. She said the name was self-explanatory.

“Could I see it?” She turns and looks at me with a single eyebrow raised,

“See what?”

“The Tree of Ages that you spoke of. The tree I slept in for one thousand years?” She looks between me and the door.

“Yeah, I guess. I mean I don’t see how it could cause any harm, right?” She leads me outside into her backyard. I stop and just breathe in the fresh air. It is not as crisp and fresh as I remember it. I listen to a few birds chirp and a few unfamiliar sounds. I ask Amy what they are,

“Oh, those are just cars, I’ll show you those later. They’re a way of transportation for people.” She shows me to the tree in the middle of her yard. It remains just as large as I remember it. The bark seems duller and leaves a few shades paler. I slowly step in front of it. Raising my right hand, I rest it on the hard bark. I was hoping to feel something, some connection to the past, but the tree is cold. It offers no comfort and no way back. My nails scratch at the bark, peeling off a few chips.

“You okay?” I hear her small voice behind me ring out. A soft wind blows through the tree, rustling the leaves.

“No,” I answer with my back still turned to her, “I’m not okay, and I don’t think I ever will be.” I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping this is all a bad dream. Amy touches my arm and takes me back into the house. Her parents are waiting for us there.

“Jameson left; he said he’ll be in touch later. Until then we are supposed to help you get accustomed to this time period.” I nod numbly at Amy’s father’s words.

“So for now we are going to pretend you are our niece, visiting from Canada. That means you and Amy will be cousins and all of us, a family.” I look up at him and gave him a long look. His wife anxiously glances between us and jumps in,

“Of course that’s what we will just tell people. But, Sheeta dear, if you need us for anything, you can come to us. We will do our best to help you get through this, all of us.” She gives her husband a meaningful glance. He sighs loudly, but nods his head for his wife.

“Today is Saturday, the weekend. On Monday you will go to high school with Amy. It’s the easiest way to get you used to this life. Jameson already has the paper work filled out for you.” Amy bumps shoulders with me and smiles.

“The name you’re going to use is Sheeta Campbell. It was just easier to let you use our last name. Do you have any questions?” I breathe in deeply, soaking in his words. He seems like the efficient type, just wanted to get things done and out of the way to start the new thing. I understood and felt respect for him because of that aspect. All I really want to do is sit down for awhile and cry. Even if he didn’t have all these plans for me, I probably wouldn’t go sit and cry anyways. That isn’t who I am, I need to keep moving. What didn’t kill me could only make me stronger. I don't die easily. That's easy enough said, but in my case it's the truth.

      I've survived Ogre’s, Fury's, Lycan's, civil war, kidnappings, and many other battles. I've fought for my people, so that their blood would be spared. I've fought for friendship and yes, love. I will fight till all the blood in my veins is drained. What I cannot fight, is time. It is time that will be my end. It is time that took everything that I held dear away from me. I cannot fight time, for there is no going back. I curse at the ticking hands that always stay in motion. I cannot go back, not to my people, not to my kingdom and certainly not in time. My only choice is to move forward, even if I can't see the path beyond these walls. I will create a new future and if someone seeks to stand in my way, I'll cut them down. I look back at Amy’s father,
“I do have one question. What is high school?”

 

            We are playing a game. I run through dozens of spiralling rose arches. Their colours sparkle and shine in every hue imaginable. The light disappears and leaves me alone in the shadows. I call out, over and over, yet no one answers. The ground is wet and tears streak my face. I cannot see anything. My eyes remain wide, constantly searching. I am looking for something, anything. I just keep looking…

 

            I bolt upright with a sheen of sweat covering my skin. I gasp and try to control my breathing. I look around and remember where I am suddenly. I am in the Campbell’s guest room. I lie back down and stare at the ceiling for a few moments. I remember now, it wasn’t a dream, but a memory. When I was a child I was running through my mother’s garden and I accidentally fell into a forgotten well. It was so dark that I could not see beyond my reach, I panicked. That was the day my True Sight awakened. I wonder why I am dreaming of that day. I get up from the bed and wonder into the adjacent bathing room.

       Amy had showed me how to operate the shower last night. I turn one silver lever and wait for the water to warm up. When the temperature is satisfactory I pull an object on the nozzle and the water sprouts from over head. I discard my night gown and step into the warm spray. I sigh as the water works on my tense muscles. I pick up a pink bottle and squirt some pink liquid into my hands. I message my scalp until it is nice and lathered. I let the water wash away the bubbles. My hair feels instantly softer and smelled of flowers. As I continue to wash myself with variety of sweet smelling products I find myself watching the water circle the drain.

      My thoughts go back to my father and his parting words. I had promised him not to let the enemy win. From my understanding the enemy didn’t entirely win, but they didn’t really lose either. A truce was never good enough for my father. He believed that if he still had enough strength to shake the enemy’s hand, he just as well could be holding a sword to his throat. I turn the silver nozzle back until the water stops. I grab a fluffy towel and quickly dry myself off. This time period is filled with luxuries beyond my imaginings.

      I wrap the towel around myself and quickly scurry back to my room. I carefully put on the jeans and tank top Amy had given me yesterday. After towel drying my hair I braided it down my back. After, I go into the kitchen to where Amy and Mrs. Campbell are waiting for me. I can smell something cooking on the stove. I sit next to Amy on one of the stools.

“After breakfast we’re going to go shopping for some new clothes and some other stuff for you.`` Mrs. Campbell places a plate with toast and eggs in front of me on the table; a simple dish I easily recognize. She beams and gives a toothy smile for me.

“Don’t worry; we will be with you every step of the way. Jameson told us not to spare any expense and just to have fun!” Her eyes sparkle and the skin around them crinkles when she smiled. I give her a small smile in return. Like yesterday I am not able to finish my meal entirely. Mrs. Campbell tells me not to worry about it and that my appetite will return with time. We get into her shiny red car, which I am a little apprehensive about. I clutch my seat belt the whole time the vehicle is in motion. I keep my eyes forward and on the back of Mrs. Campbell’s head.

4: Bonds

~~I wait until the car is at a complete stop for me to take off the seat belt. I slowly get out of the car and marvel at the gigantic metal structure before me.

“It’s called the mall, its where people buy things. You can think of it as an indoor market.” Amy explains to me. I run my shoe over the hard surface underneath me. It was black and a lot more solid than dirt, it is almost like rock. Mrs. Campbell tugs at my elbow and steers me toward the mall.

“Just let us ask the questions and you just try things on, okay?” I bite the inside of my cheek. I do not like being handled like an infant. I understand why such treatment is needed, but I don’t like it. My eyes go wide as we step into the mall. There are so many people here. The ground is colored and shiny; I can almost see my reflection. I listen and hear a strange tunes rising from an invisible place. Strange smells waft towards my nose, some inviting, others repulsing. Mrs. Campbell continues to walk me through the mall, but I am hardly paying attention to her.

     Each shop was directly beside the other and only separated by a wall. Colors, shapes and so many other wonders I can’t even describe filled them.

“Here we are!” Mrs. Campbell explained. I look up and read the neon sign hanging over head.  My eyes nearly want to pop out of my head at all the colors and patterns. At this particular market stall Amy tells me this is where I can purchase new fabric. Amy tells me that I am a medium in shirts and a size two in jeans or any other pants. She said I can find the sizes on the white tags attached to each garment. Mrs. Campbell pretty much gives me free range then. She instructs me to pick out whatever looked interesting or nice and then I could try it on. She and Amy also picks out a few things they thought I’d look nice in.

    I had never really put so much stock in my physical appearance before. If I wanted to look pretty, that's was the maids job. I rubbed a soft shirt between my thumb and forefinger. I looked around the store at all the others buying clothing. From what I gather, physical appearance hold a lot more stock then it did before. In the end I pick what is comfortable over what is beautiful. Who knows when a demon spider, moreover a Jurogumo could slink across the shadows.

     After about ten more stores I had the act of shopping, down to an art. I bought twenty shirts, five pairs of jeans, four pairs of shorts, two skirts, four sweaters, two scarves, a jacket and fifteen pairs of socks. Amy tells me that the beauty of shopping is that you can keep doing it over and over again, even if you don’t buy anything. It is a way to keep up with the world and its styles. We go to a shoe store and buy me a pair of runners, two pairs of flats, a pair of boots and a pair of flip flops. I ask Amy why they called them flip flops, as it is such a ridiculous name. She said I’d get it when I wore them. Mrs. Campbell wanted me to get my hair cut as well, but I firmly tell her no. My waist length dark hair is a reminder to me of my home and parents.

      I can’t just cut it for the sake of staying current. For a compromise I let her take me to a makeup studio. The woman, who helps me with my make up lesson, gives me a lot of instruction on how to apply the face paint.
“The brown eye shadow is a natural highlight to blue eyes.” She applies dark lines under my eyes and combs my eyelashes with something called mascara. I try very hard to blink so she doesn't stab my eyes with it. When she finishes she gives me a mirror. I look at my reflection; I mirror the appearance of a painted up doll. A very pretty doll that showed no trace of warfare. It is a mask, one that I am scared might get glued to my face. We buy a couple shades of eye shadow, black pencil eyeliner, a tube of mascara and a few brushes.

“You can just borrow Amy’s makeup remover.” Mrs. Campbell says as we leave the store. We take a break and go to the large eating room, which Amy called a food court, to get lunch. Mrs. Campbell wanders off over to a booth filled with steam, noodles and vegetables. I stick close to Amy as people bustle past us in every direction. We stop in front of one of the booths and get in line.

“Do you want anything?” I shake my head. I don’t think my stomach is quite ready for this kind of food yet. The scent of deep fried food is already making me sick. I wonder how people even digest this stuff.

          I take in my surrondings and notice something peculiar. All these people, they are human. Is this a human colony of some sort? Suddenly I hear Amy’s name being called out over the masses of people. Amy turns in that direction too and smiles. She waves at a couple of humans that look to be her age. They move closer and meet us at our spot in line. One is a boy, the other a girl. The guy looks at me first,

“Who are you?” My lips part, but I can’t think of a good response. Luckily Amy jumps in,

“This is my cousin, Sheeta. She’s from Canada and just moved in with us last week.” Her friends nod slowly. The guy’s eyes wanders over me while the girl’s mouth grew twisted. I stuff my hands into my pockets to keep them from forming fists. I do like being treated as an object to be viewed.

“Sheeta? What kind of name is that?”

“Wait she moved in with you? So is she coming to our school?”

“Yeah she is. And don’t be like that Courtney, no reason to hate.”

“I’m not hating on her!”

“Your face says otherwise Court.”

“Shut up Brad!” My eyes dart to each of them during their fast paced conversation. The only thing I really get out of it is their names. The one named Brad turns toward me.

“Don’t worry; she doesn’t always have a stick up her ass. It’s cool you’re going to the same school as us, should be fun!” He smiles brightly at me, something about it made me want to smile back, so I do.

“Thanks, I’m looking forward to it,” I reply.

“So she speaks? Monday will be interesting; I wonder how long it will take for someone to jump her.” Courtney’s face turns up in a twisted smile. Amy elbows her and said to knock it off, but she just shrugged. They say goodbye to Amy, and Brad said he’d see me on Monday. When they were out of earshot Amy sighed.

“Sorry about her, she’s not big on change. She’s a good person to have on your side though, you just got to let her warm up to you, you know?” Amy collects her food and we start making our way over to where her mother sat.

“Are they related? They seemed to speak to each other in a familiar way.”

“Sort of, they’re step siblings. They aren’t related by blood, their parents are just married.” How strange, I’ve never heard of such a union being sanctioned before. We sit down and I wait in silence for them to finish their meals. After they were finished we pack up the car with my purchases and head back to the Campbell house. The ride still made me nervous, but I didn’t clutch the seatbelt. It takes us each three trips to get it all inside and into my room. Amy helps me put everything away. While we worked she began to talk a little more about Krystal and Brad. They’ve all been friends since they were young and were very close. Krystal’s and Brad’s parents were married six years ago. Apparently at the time, Courtney liked Brad, or as Amy put it, had a crush on him.

“I’m not actually sure if she ever got over it. I mean she’s never liked anybody since then or had a boyfriend or anything. It’s not really my business; she’d tell me if it was important. What about you?” I pause before ripping off another white tag.

“What about me?” Amy wiggles her eyebrows and grins.

“Have you ever had a boyfriend? Or I guess someone you really, really liked?” I look down at my hands and smile at the thought. Amy gasps and scouts closer to me on the bed.

“Tell me! Tell me!” I swear I won’t tell anyone, I’ll take it to the grave!” I laugh at her antics.

“It’s not like anything ever happened. The mere thought of more than our standard relationship was inappropriate and highly against the rules.” I glance at her, she was hung on my every word and giving me an eager smile.

“For the longest time I thought it was completely one sided, until we went to the festival.” The mattress bounces as Amy bobs up and down.

“Our favourite past time was to mess with the guards who followed me. Like running off and watching them frantically run about.” The memory is still fresh in my memory. I close my eyes and picture that night in my mind.

 

            The brick wall bit into my back as I pressed up against the shadows. I held my hand over my mouth so I wouldn’t laugh. When we could no longer hear the sounds of their boots we both let out our laughter. I doubled over and had to gasp for breath.

"When will they learn?" He asked between laughs. I shook my head and sighed,

"Father should have you and Break as my guards, at least this game would be interesting then." I straightened up and noticed he went suddenly very quiet.

 

“Is something wrong? You are feeling remorseful?” I teased. He looked at me seriously which caused the grin to slip from my lips. He placed both of his hands against the wall on either side of my head. He took a step closer until he was a hair away from me. I felt small compared to his lean form. His long hair covered his eyes so I couldn’t read them.

 

“This is worse than torture. Being with you and yet, not allowed to touch you.” I sucked in sharp breath and my eyes widened.

 

“I don’t understand, what are you trying to say?” I pleaded in the smallest of whispers. I wasn’t sure he even heard me until a small, sad smile graced his lips.

 

“This fate of ours truly is cruel. The way I feel for you is wrong yet I cannot help but crave it like water in a dessert.” His mouth moved closer to mine, his breath hot against my face. Could one touch, one kiss, be so wrong? I leaned forward in earnest. He suddenly jerked away and turned from me.
“I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have said those things. I will maintain my self control from here on, milady.” Oh how I wished he wouldn’t.

 

            I snap out of my reverie by Amy’s clapping. She squeals in delight at my tale.

“Oh, that’s so romantic and tragic! It’s better than Romeo and Juliet!”

“Who do you speak of?” She waves her hand dismissing it.

“Never mind, it’s not important. Oh what was his name! You haven’t forgotten it have you?” I couldn’t possible forget his name. He is a part of me, like roots are to a tree. I give Amy a sad smile,

“His name was Aiden. Aiden Tarine, Sword of the Third Right.” Amy’s brow furrows,

“What’s the Third Right?” Incredible, it shocks me how her knowledge base is severely lacking. Did they not teach her anything about the history of my people?

“The Third Right is a certain league of Angels that take guardianship over this world. Aiden was the divine protector of my kingdom, and me.” Amy tucks her legs underneath her and leaned in forward.

“So he was in a way, one of your guards?”

“Yes in a way, but it was much more personal than that. He was mine, just as I was his, everything else came second.” She nods slowly,

“So let’s say there was a five people drowning, including you. You’re telling me he wouldn’t even bat an eye at the others and save you first?” I smile,

“Yes, he would choose me. He will always choose me, even if I don’t want him to.” That is how resolute the bond of a guardian and who he protects. He is much more than my guardian though, he is my best friend and confidante. I am closer to him than I was to my own family and because of that, I miss him terribly. A slight pain in chest struck through me to my core. Even if it feels like only days, Aiden has been stuck in the Spirit World for over a thousand. Was our bond broken?