Ember of Hope

I like to write everything in as much detail as I can remember so that it can depict my true feelings and the depth of them. For people should never lie nor hide from themselves.

--- Katherine Vidarr ---

Dear diary!

I was thankful to king Varamont for giving us a place to live in peace… as were my sisters. Of course it came with a price but my sisterhood was willing to pay it. We were at his beck and call. And he wasn’t a man of honor at all. I knew many of his dark secrets and detested him for them. But as the saying goes “beggars can’t be choosers” and as I was in debt to him for the place and work he had given me in his castle, I could hardly complain.

I wasn’t too fascinated with the dark ways my sisters used either. May be I was the odd one out, that’s why I had a job to tend to the wounded prisoners and warriors; who were human and weren’t able to self-heal themselves, or in case of dragon prisoners; were under one of my sisters’ dark spells on Varamont’s orders and couldn’t heal themselves naturally. But I was happy with my job because I helped people; I relieved them from pain and suffering. I was sneered at for being “soft-hearted and a coward” by many witches of my sisterhood.

My job wasn’t particularly interesting or one I would’ve chosen if I had a choice. There’s nothing entertaining in cleaning blood and gore or looking at festering wounds on a daily basis. Until one day a prisoner came. One look at him and I was a goner. Somehow, with all the blood loss that made him look like a zombie, and the broken body, he still managed to hold his head high. He was no common man that was for sure. He was someone important. If his way of holding himself wasn’t an indication enough than the level of security could’ve clued you in. I was to tend to his wounds in his cell and to take his meals. And for the first time in forever – I was looking forward to my gruesome job.

He was “The King Alexander” of Evreux. I had heard stories of his valor. He was a man most feared by his enemies and most loved by his friends and subjects, unlike Varamont. Maybe that’s why this lone man was kept under such strict vigilance that not even a maid was allowed to bring him food and only I was allowed in. not that I was complaining. I had this strong urge to get to know this man – the man under all this tough armor of courage and bravery.

He got beaten up daily and while tending to his wounds I always had to curb the urge to burn the offenders to ashes. I took extra care with him and tried to relieve him of as much pain as possible. He never spoke to me… just used to keep looking at me while I spoke of anything and everything. He had the most beautiful amber eyes; brilliant like burning flames; the only feature visible under all the blood I had to clean on a daily basis. And then – one day – he talked.

“Can I call you Katie?” his deep voice rumbled over me. He could call me anything he wanted as long as he kept talking to me. And he did.

I fell for him a bit more every day. To the point that I was ready to give my life just to get him away from this hellhole. So I kept thinking of a way. And one day it hit me – the yearly feast – most of the guards would be at the castle for security of the feast held by Varamont at the west wing of the castle that was the farthest from the dungeons. His security would be much more lenient.

I told him my idea and the way his eyes shone – I could have died happily just to make sure that light never faded from those beautiful brilliant eyes.

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“Hey mom, I’m home” Sarah yelled from the hall, “and I’m hungry”. Usually this guaranteed a fussing Maria but today silence reigned over the kitchen. It was rather odd but maybe her mother had gone to the store or something. Sarah trudged deeper in the house and found both of her parents sitting at the kitchen table. Her father’s head was in his hands and her mother was dabbing a handkerchief at the corner of her eye. Sarah stopped at the threshold and stared. Something really bad had happened. Her gut clenched. “Dad?” she inquired, “Mom?” she entered the kitchen and grabbed the back of a chair, “What’s wrong? Why are you crying Mom? Is Grandma ok?” her heart beat faster at the thought of something happening to her Grandma.

“Grandma is alright honey. You can go meet her this weekend if you have time”.

“I can’t go this weekend Dad; Raegan is coming back and she’ll have my head if I’m not waiting for her at her door. You know how dramatic she can get”. Sarah noticed her father flinch at her words and an odd cold slithered up her spine, “Dad tell me already; your suspense is killing me. What’s wrong?”

He grabbed Sarah’s hand and pulled her down on the chair next to him and didn’t let go. “Sweetheart, Raegan’s team is back. They had to cut their trip short because of an accident”, he swallowed and looked down and Sarah found herself unable to speak from the sheer dread pounding in her entire being, “Raegan had an accident and she slipped down from a cliff. She won’t be coming back sweetheart. She’s gone”. And finally the tears leaked from his grasp and her father sobbed with his head down. He was mourning the loss of a daughter as well as the promise he couldn’t keep to his dead friend.

Her mother hadn’t said a single word during the time it took for her father to deliver the blow. She was devastated. And Sarah… Sarah was just feeling numb. Because there were so many emotions warring inside her to take the lead that she didn’t know what to feel first. The loss of her best friend, the emptiness left in her wake, the anger at not stopping her from going on a dangerous journey, or the uncertainty about future that had no Raegan in it. She just couldn’t fathom it. And slowly over the days the hollowness consumed her so thoroughly that even talking became a burden.

More than a month after the news about Raegan, and Sarah still couldn’t function without her. So her parents had decided that she needed a change in her routine. They were taking her somewhere… where? She didn’t know… she didn’t want to know. No place on earth could hold her attention without her best friend to share it with. Her mother had taken it upon herself to pack her suitcase so she was sitting outside on the patio despite the cold; trying not to let the emptiness consume her whole. What could cold do to an already cold soul?

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“Come with me” he said “be mine forever” and for the first time in my life I wanted to live a life of eternity – at his side. Before that moment, I, unlike my sisters, never considered our long life spans a blessing. It was more of a curse to me if you didn’t have anyone to spend it with – one who could love you forever. But now – now I had hope. And he proved it by saying his next words.

“I’ve known that you were mine since the moment I saw you holding that bowl of hot water in your hands. I love you Katherine. I’ll love you forever. Come with me, my love”.

Next few days I spent telling him everything I could about the layout of the place and the positions of the guards. Anything he asked. So that he could make a safe plan to find the path of freedom. With each passing day, as the feast neared, he became more and more lively. His excitement became palpable. And I was a hopeless addict for his smiles.

Luck was on our side because on the day of the feast no one came to drag him out to beat him up in front of Varamont. Varamont was too busy in dealing with his guests; he didn’t deem it necessary to beat an already broken man. I left his door unlocked after my daily visit with a spell on it to show it locked to any outsider, and went to have a look around on the guards. I had to meet him at the back entrance of the dungeons in fifteen minutes. I had time so I decided to provide a distraction on the opposite side of the prison wing so that he could get away with less resistance. But what I wasn’t counting on was to have a face-off session with the goons of my sisterhood. The best way to get rid of them was to let them jest at me and stay quiet. As they cornered me to a secluded hallway, I prayed that I don’t get Alex into any trouble by being late. The thought of something happening to him was my undoing. As I silently raised my hands; the witches got splayed at the farthest wall with expressions of utter disbelief etched on their faces. They were foolish to take me as a weakling. Without any bragging, I had more power than all of them combined. A brutal satisfaction filled me as I saw them crumple to the ground in a heap of limbs.

I ran to the back entrance. My heart jumped out of my chest at the sight of open back door and no Alex in the scene. My sixth sense was warning me of something bad. In the next few minutes I had searched all the way down to the dungeons. He was nowhere to be found and the lack of noise and two guards lying motionless in his cell confirmed my worst fear – He had fled – without me.

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