Studiosus Amorem

Today is our exam. Our final test of what we have been studying. Two teachers are to watch the test, one stands before me now. The other at the back of the room. Thankfully if I do not have to look at him, then I should do ok.

So far I had done well, despite struggling through this subject I thought I'd managed to bluff my way through all of the subject...and now this.

My greatest fear manifested itself, not unlike those of the others.
Fearsome, moody, brooding darkness, glittering black ferocious eyes, strong hands.

Again fearful gasps echo around the room.

But for me a sigh, as sinking, suffocating sorrow makes all but his beauty fade around me.
My eyes are alone to gaze, but my body is still standing there surrounded by my fellow pupils.

The manifestation ignores me and my soul tears inside.

My greatest fear is exposed as I am reduced to nothing, not even worth his wrath.
And even more horrifying is now my heart is left glass-like and open for everyone, even him, to see inside.
Everyone can now see what I tortured myself to keep hidden.

He’s watching from the back of the room, behind the crowd.
Perplexed, amused, surprised, even stunned. He has become aware now that my initial reactions to his presence are not the same, or even similar, to those of my fellow students. For once something has snuck past his notice.

A laugh, a quiet laugh rises from some hardly ever used or explored region of his soul as he is confronted by something never before given to him.
Love. Innocent, romantic love.


The apparition fades.

The teacher leading our class looks to the back of the room at his college with a bemused smile of puzzlement. Clearly I have surprised them all, if not myself for letting this manifestation out for all to see. There is snickering laughs from those around me and a shuffle as many heads turn to look to the back of the room. Again I am the outsider of my class, and there is a thick mob of my peers between myself and the door out of this room. I just want to vanish, but alas I have not learnt to do this yet. The windows to the right of me look appealing, but I cannot fly yet either and it's a long way down outside.


I have made them nervous.
He, my love, is for the first time caught by an enchantment he did not sense coming and he is confused.

I begin to feel weak, and I collapse as my friends push forward to catch me.

In the morning I am gone before the sun has risen.
No one else is awake as I leave.
I am embarrassed, ashamed. Cold cruelty, its own free agent, is scratching at every thought I am having.

My garden sits at the very bottom of the vast green lawn which stretches down from the chill touch of stone steps and carpets the ground until it meets the river.
Frost betrays my path as my footsteps blacken with their impact upon the icicles of frozen grass.
To the right is my garden. It has always been my place of meditation. A place to enjoy my art. To touch soil, flower bud and leaf is a blessing. Yet now I cannot.
All I have learned came from him and this blinds me so that I cry. Anger and desire are twisting within with such force as I have never known.

I dig the ground with my fingers, trying to send this vicious energy building up inside me back in to the earth. But the deeper I dig in to the ground, the faster and more intense the pain.
I am filling up with heat and fury that I become a shell about to break apart, my existence to shatter completely.
I am shaking from the cold of the ground and from the ache in my heart.

Then his voice commands me once more, “Shael. Stop this and be at ease”

I laugh. I am not his to instruct anymore, to tell what to do or how to feel about it.
I laugh because I believe I am imagining his voice as I have left the castle and I am alone in my garden.
“Shael” he is calling, stern, strong, yet concerned. “Shael” his voice is demanding I reply.

I stand to see him. The apparition of my fears is hurrying towards me, his robe flutters out behind him with the speed of his pace.
He looks angry, but as he gets closer I see his brow is creased with worry.
“What are you doing here?” he growls, a deep, wolf-like scolding growl.

I raise my fists and hit at him as he stops before me.
I want to rid my sight of this ghost.
But as I hit his cheek and catch a lock of his black hair in my fingers, I am woken to the knowledge that he is really here in front of me.
Pain screams down my wrists and I cannot move. He is holding my wrists in his hands, locked like talons upon my flesh and bone as if to break them. But he did not.

“Shael please” he begs.
He begs?
He looks in to my eyes. So gentle the depths of his eyes are, so deeply they stare in to mine, deeper and deeper until I become no more.

There is blood on his brow.
I want to touch his wound and heal what I have done.
His blood, hundreds of years old, his blood seems now so fragile and pure like that of my own.
I slacken in his hold and he lets go of my wrists and draws me in to the folds of his robe, in to their dark warmth and I feel his body beyond the velvet cloth.

We kneel back to the earth, he is holding me tightly and my lips are close to his white neck. He smells sweet and comforting and I let peace sweep over me, closing my eyes against his chest where within beats his heart, alive, powerful, real.

When I open my eyes again, I look up to his face and the skin of his neck again nears my lips. He is looking out across the garden, past the river bank beyond, watching the sun rise on the horizon. His hair is brushed by the breeze for a moment, in spidery coal wisps which contrast against his white skin. He is praying, chanting quietly in to the dawn-light.

I kiss his neck and his arms tighten around me but then he pushes me away.
“No” he breathes.
He looks afraid. I rise on my knees and take his face between my hands and for a moment we are both frightened. Then we kiss. Kiss like we have hungered for centuries and this is our feast.
Warmth is all over us, under us, above us.

Though our bodies scream for the other, we go no further than to lay within the circle of heat generated by lust restrained. His skin now warm with the hue of life, his face is calm and on his thin lips a gentle smile.
We lay embraced in this quiet dome of peace, my love and I. For this moment at least there was no one to question us.