Silver Wings

The light of the candle flickered to and fro, making the shadows it cast dance in the room's walls like a graceful symphony in motion. On the bed in the corner of the room, a beautiful young woman with long, deep golden blond hair down to her lower back sat, gathering the linen blankets nearer to her naked body. A smile flickered on her pale peach-pink lips and her brilliant blue-green eyes beamed, making them look like sapphires.

"What are you thinking of, Arcadia?" Balthazar Magnus Irving III asked, looking up from the quill that he was whittling from the other corner of the room, his legs on the table, gently rocking the chair he was sitting in.

Arcadia Lyrika Damodred smiled as she reached out toward the bed post and took a linen robe and put it on, tying it tightly round her tiny waist. She approached Balthazar and gently rested her hands on his shoulders.

"I'm thinking about you," Arcadia said, letting her hands travel downwards until her face was next to his, hugging him tightly. Balthazar turned his head and kissed her lightly on the cheek, enjoying her warmth. It had been a cold night, and the rain was still pouring even though it was supposedly the crack of dawn. Staring outside Balthazar'f eyebrows knitted into a frown. He knew not how to go on from there. They've gone past the point of no return--surely Arcadia's parents, powerful people in society had already figured out what they had done. Reaching up, Balthazar touched Arcadia's cheek.

"I've been thinking about us as well... I'm afraid because of me, you can never return to your family," Balthazar said as Arcadia withdrew her arms around him and sighed deeply, leaning against the wall, crossing her arms beneath her chest. Balthazar looked at her for a moment--Arcadia of the famed House of Damodred, the whole clan's muse and joy, standing in a dimly lit, dingy room. A pang of pain went through him, knowing that a simple life was all that he could offer the lady. But she love him, that was what she had said before deciding to run away with him. She loved him, and she yearned for a life with him, no matter what kind of life it was, be it the lavish one she was used to, or a simple, yet beautiful one, as long as she was with him.

"Arcadia, I-- Balthazar began, but Arcadia could move fast for a woman. She put a finger to his lips and smiled down at him, the light of the candle reflecting her golden hair, putting a golden halo over her. Balthazar could only stare lovingly at her.

"I love you, Balthazar Magnus Irving the Third," Arcadia said with a hint of a smile on her lips, knowing how well he loathed the last part of his name. She bent down, resting her forehead on his, their eyelashes touching each other. Balthazar let whatever he was holding fall down and he stood up, keeping his forehead on hers. He could see her blue eyes look at him with love and knew that his own brown ones were filled with it as well.As her arms snaked around him, her hands folding at his nape, and his own hands encircled her waist and they danced to a tune only they could hear, Balthazar knew he would love this woman for all eternity. Gently, tenderly, the lovers danced, as the walls around them melted to the ground. The candle's flames grew bigger and bigger, burning the cottage down to the ground. The earth shook beneath their feet, and the lovers fell down on the grass, staring at each other's eyes.

Neither of them knew when the other had fallen asleep, because the next thing they knew was an enraged cry woke them up, curdling their blood. Balthazar's eyes shot open. He could feel his heart pounding in his ears. He looked down at Arcadia in his arms who was also immediately awake, hair fanned out on the grass, looking up at him. They barely had time to get up when a rough hand grabbed Arcadia's wrist, yanking her upwards. Right above Balthazar, stood Arcadia's grandfather, Lord Nicolae Asmodeaus Damodred, a solid man, tall and strongly built. His eyes were blood shot and his neatly pony tailed white hair was slightly askew. Trembling, he shook Arcadia madly, his anger consuming him so that he had forgotten how to speak in words. Instead, he spoke in half-groans and unintelligible screams of madness. Small animals from the forest gathered around--only they could understand the madness that he was uttering. They looked at each other and whispered--The Creator has truly blessed humans. For there is no possible, sane way for a human to speak an animal's language, as Lord Nicolae did at the moment. They watched on, perplexed.

" Father, let--," Arcadia began, tears forming in the corners of her eyes from the pain in her wrist as her grandfather shook her hard, his eyes wild.

" Silence, you whore!" Lord Nicolae shouted, his deep voice thundering through the pounding in Balthazar's ears as he jerked Arcadia's arm once more. How he found the words to speak again was beyond him and everyone else. The woodland creatures shook their heads--maybe it was just a mistake, maybe the man did not speak their language at all. However, they did understand that the man was mad beyond anything they have ever seen. The human was even more mad than when the lion couldn't find food. Quietly, the woodland animals left, shaking their heads.

" Lord Damodred, please, calm yourself--" Balthazar began but Lord Nicolae's other hand went to his side and pulled out a gun, trembling as he aimed it on Balthazar. Balthazar was speechless for a moment as his eyes focused on the gun. Somehow, his eyes unfocused and he saw Arcadia on her knees, her grandfather holding her first, making him regain his wits.

"You will not speak to me, you demon!" Lord Nicolae shouted as he began to drag Arcadia away. The scene that unfolded before Balthazar's eyes was so unfamiliar to him that he could not move for a moment. Suddenly, Arcadia wrenched her wrist away from her grandfather's strong grasp and backed away, drawing herself up to full height. In the morning light, Balthazar could see Arcadia raise her chin defiantly, as he had seen her do so many times before. There it was--the lift of her chin, her eyes narrowing, as if daring anyone to do their worst. He knew her so well. He could see her back straighten, but something was amiss. There was no tilt of her head to the side, that proud tilt she had inherited from her grandfather himself.

" I will not go with you, grandfather, " Arcadia's voice, clear as a bell rang through the field, cutting through the haze that Balthazar was in. For the first time, he noticed the burnt ashes around them and wondered how it had gotten there. For the first time, Balthazar realized that the cottage they had been in was gone. Arcadia repeated what she said, more softly, but Lord Nicolae's face could not have worn a more shocked face if Arcadia had shot him herself. Lord Nicolae stood there, shocked, watching Arcadia as she slowly joined Balthazar and stood by his side. She was in her night dress, but she could not have been more regal than a queen.

"I love him... I will not go, grandfather," Arcadia said sadly, tears streaming down her face, but holding her chin high. Lord Nicolae looked at them slowly, his red face quickly turning white and his hand shaking. His face contorted with grief, anger, sorrow and love, though his hand still held the gun at Balthazar. Dimly, Balthazar realized that Arcadia had referred to her grandfather as 'grandfather' for the first time ever in her life.

"Lord Nicolae, please..." Balthazar began, approaching Lord Nicolae slowly, reaching out for the gun. Lord Nicolae held the trembling gun tightly in his hand, tears starting to roll down his craggy cheeks.

"I love Arcadia... I beg for your blessing to be married to her... please..." Balthazar whispered, his own eyes tearing up as he touched the gun and gently pushed Lord Nicolae's hand away. When Balthazar's fingers touched Lord Nicolae's hand, Lord Nicolae's face contorted with anger, mottled with fury.

"No daughter of mine will ever be married to you!" Lord Nicolae said as Balthazar pushed Lord Nicolae's hand upward to avoid getting shot as Lord Nicolae fired the gun. A gun shot echoed through the room and the look on Lord Nicolae's face told Balthazar that something was very wrong.

To Balthazar's memory, everything went silent and slow. He turned around just in time to see Arcadia fall, a dark stain spreading on the breast of her dress. Her eyes widened, then fluttered as she fell forwards, her golden hair catching the sunlight. Balthazar felt her body fall into his arms as he turned towards her and caught her body. It was the last time her warm skin would be on his. The pink tinge in her cheeks had faded and the light in her eyes began to dim. As his hand hovered over the wound, he felt a surge of maddening anger at the bullet that had dared marred Arcadia. It was quickly quelled by the reality of what the bullet had done.

" Arcadia?" Balthazar whispered unbelievingly, falling onto his knees on the floor, cradling Arcadia's body. He pushed away the golden strands of her hair from her face, cupping the tiny, doll like face he had so loved. A ghost of a smile appeared on Arcadia's face as she reached up to touch his own stubbled cheeks, but it never quite made it there. The elegant hand fell to the side, lifeless.

It was only morning, but his sun had set.


Balthazar sat in his study, his eyes bloodshot and vacant. His study was dimly lit and books were scattered everywhere, literally looking like a tornado hit the room. Feet on his dest and lightly pushing back his chair, like he did when Arcadia still lived. The floor was littered with books, ink, quills and other stuff that was on his desk a day ago. The piece of paper that bore the end of his happiness sat coldly on this desk, half-opened.

"Lord Nicolae Asmodeaus Damodred invites Lord Balthazar Magnus Irving III to the wake of Lady Arcadia Lyrika Damodred on the 15th of June, 1645." The letter said, cold and precise, like a swift stab to heart. Balthazar had stood for what seemed like an eternity after he had read the paper, before he tore into his study. He had cried for days, without any sleep, only stopping when his body decided it had had enough and shut down. But when he woke up, he would do the same thing again. His mother, Lady Elissa Nerida Irving had been worried sick about him, but knowing her son full well, she knew that it would be best to leave him alone in his grief. She had tried to get him to take some of the sleeping potions she had the wise-men make for him, but even the wise-men said that he was beyond any sort of relief.

The burial was today, the 20th of June, but Balthazar had not shown his face in public ever since Arcadia died, and to him, there was no point going.

She's dead, and that's it. Balthazar thought numbly as he stared at the dark room emptily. Balthazar wept bitterly. She was his sun, his light in the dark. Half-mad with grief, Balthazar thought he saw an image of her lighting up the dark room, putting her arms around him, telling him it would be alright. But it was gone after a second. He touched his cheek, now dark with stubble, trying to recall the feeling of her soft hands on his face. He bit his lip so hard that he drew blood, but he didn't care. Taking deep breaths, he spied his golden letter opener lying beside the letter, thinking how much the gold reminded him of Arcadia's hair. He took it in his hand and held it up to what dim light filled the room.

Arcadia... Balthazar thought of her name for what seemed like the thousandth time in five days. The name rang into his ears, seared into his heart, engraved into his mind. He lifted the letter opened over his wrist, trembling. A soft knock disturbed his thoughts and he dropped the letter opener to the floor as the door opened and his mother peeked in.

"Balthazar?" Lady Irving called out, her voice clearing the haze in his mind. Balthazar stood up slowly, straightening himself and allowing his mother to enter further.

" Mother," Balthazar replied, bowing stiffly to his mother who looked around worriedly, then back at her son. She caressed his face gently, feeling sorrow wash over her as well. She had seen him those days, and truth be told, she feared for him. He had not eaten, and she suspected, had not slept for five days. Stiffly, he moved over to his table, running his hands through his hair as he tried to straighten up the place for his mother, but to no avail. A soft hand touched his shoulder while he picked up a few fallen books, trying to pile them up neatly.

"Don't bother, Balthazar... your father, the gods bless his heart, was even more messier than you," Lady Irving said sitting down on an arm chair, smiling weakly at Balthazar who looked at her, his warm eyes, vacant and empty, desperate. Balthazar sank to his knees, weeping on his mother's lap as she touched his head soothingly for what seemed like forever. Moving to her knees, Lady Irving gently raised Balthazar's chin so she could look into his eyes.

"Let it go son... I know it will be hard... and there will never be another Arcadia for you... but.. life must go on.." Lady Irving tried, tears filling the brim of her own eyes as she embraced her son who fell into her arms, unmoving. After a moment, she felt him push her away gently and look into her eyes.

"Yes, I loved her, mother... and I'll search for her in this life time, in the next, and in the one after that, until I find her," Balthazar swore, standing up and walking weakly to the humongous windows of his study. The rain had stopped and the first rays of the sun began to peek through the gray clouds, penetrating the dim room as Balthazar stood there, bathed in golden rays. Yes, he would search for Arcadia, wherever she was.