Silent wonder, Silent wait

~Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, having some business, do entreat her eyes
to twinkle in their spheres till they return. What if her eyes were there, they in her head?
The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars, As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven
Would through the airy region stream so bright That birds would sing and think it were not night. ~

Soften whispers breathed through the lurking shadows of the garden’s depth, too many of time could she count to of found this place and wept. Even now silent streams of tears streak her cheeks, making her appear very humble and awfully meek. Though the nigh was different this time and place, she had requested to see the man without a trace A new comer from across the sea’s perhaps he was the barer of better fortuned dreams.

Tender lifeless eyes looked up towards the beams, the night had already begun to hang very low, while a delicate hand reached out to touch the pellets of the last roses’ of the summer, before more seeds would have to be sowed. How it would please her to see this garden once again blooming with life, but for now it sits just barely trying to survive. Another, year has gone by without even the smallest voice to give her peace, along with a choice.

The beating of wings filled the air as a very small spotted owl landed over head, a smile something very rarely seen hoping the bird brought good tidings. Reaching up taking the small tied parchment from the leg, unfolding it and reading it in the casted beams over head.

Silently now, she would silently wait, for the wonder of some who knew the fate.

The night was aglow as the soft caress of the moon's light set her gentle hands over an angel of a figure in the castles garden. She was beautiful, in a regal majestic way. The kind of beauty that could only be found in a lovingly worn, well written novel. It was a beauty that lasted and continued to bloom every night as if it were immune to times harsh touch. Most men would have fought over such a woman, many men would have given their lives for such a delicate flower but the man that came this evening was not most men.

From the darkest depths of the shadows, beyond the brush of the moon's gentle touch the rotting brown of a creatures eyes looked on. The shadows twisted and churned as the figure shifted, its very presence in the garden of life was a sin of impossible magnitude. It watched in silence, as shadows always did, its ghostly skin hidden below the folds of black cloth.

As the woman reached for the rose and ran her delicate fingers over the soft peddles the creature's smile grew. It watched with curiosity as the woman turned to the bird that came to her beckon call, taking from it a small piece of parchment and glancing over its content. In this moment a voice shattered the silence. Like a thousand shards of broken glass, they cut into the air with the mercy of an evil spat up from the depths of hell itself. “A new flower in the garden...it begs to be plucked.” A figure of a man, stepped from the darkness only a few short feet behind the woman. The thing was dressed in black and appeared cloaked in shadows, even the light of the moon seemed to shy away from it as if somehow afraid to touch this evil. His words continued as deadly as ever and yet tainted with the tiniest bit of amusement as if the creature of a man were enjoying the encounter in a sick twisted way. “If you leave the rose, it will die in its own time. Fading away slowly from its former beauty to a sickly sad thing...but...” The man paused a moment in his words. Keeping his eyes fixed on the woman in front of him, he reached to the side and snapped a red and white rose from its stem. A vile smile crept over the dark creatures lip beneath the shadow of his cowl as he spoke the next of his words. “...if you cut its life short, you can preserve it for a time and share its glory for all the world to see. Until it is no longer of any use.” With that the man dropped the rose to the dark richness of the earth below.

“But I don't suppose discussing flowers was your reason for inviting the devil into your garden this evening.” Though in all honesty the man wasn't talking about flowers at all. His tone changed suddenly, taking on an icy bitterness that seemed to steal what little warmth remained to the night air. “Why have you summoned me, what task do you have for all that remains of the counsel's weapon's.” Sarthas was weary, he didn't like the way that old channels of long dead communication after the fall of the counsel had suddenly sprang back to life. She had found him. People did not find him, he found them and yet somehow this woman had managed to track him down. But for what purpose? She didn't seem the type to need the services of an assassin, yet he knew better than most that appearances could be deceiving. He would not have come, yet the shell of a man had no where else to go. His life had ended when the order had fallen. His existence was now meaningless without direction, without purpose. So when the whispers found him he could not ignore its call. Though perhaps it had been more for his own personal gain than anything else. A school, one learned at a college and apparently he had more to learn of life than he ever understood. And so he had come, a world away and yet not so different. He waited in silence for her reply as fate continued to weave her invisible silken strands ever tightly around the creature born in malice, baptized in the fires of adversity and forged by the evil in man's heart.

Beams from the moonlight would all but highlight the softened features of her face, standing there waiting with such grace. The voice in the distance was anything but sound; of course she knew the voice and where it could be found. In the years at passed she learned to wait for the signs, that had been left behind, by the withered heart waiting for the day to make him play his part. For in this life they all have to play, at the course and end of each day. Living eyes watched as the flower was plucked and then cast aside, as if it matter not what happened it to it even if it dies.

Death was something experienced more than once in her life, though it was not her goal or her strife. She would stare it in the face, no matter when, where or place. This prophet, this being of hell was easy to summon as far as she could tell. Step after step she would approach the man before her, at average speed she would appear to be one of them.

But in fact she was something more, something that perhaps these students would of heard of from a lore.
Even that of evil can appear to be beautiful, doll like features look on towards the one before her as she heard these words, words of wisdom, words of wonder, and words of hate. All said in the order perhaps a little too late.

“Memory so pale in the moonlight, the moon has lost its memory of the day and night. I have not, and you have not. I have seen what some only think I see, and that is the difference between you and me. I need you to watch those closely, in the walls of the school, even if it means you to be cruel.”

Eyes lifted up towards the sky looking in the distance, the feeling she knew it once before and this time when it comes, there would be more. More, to fight for and more to love, more to try and keep the candle lit to those coming from above. Perhaps this creature of a night could understand, maybe he could he lived more as man. She knew that it was possible and knew that without a doubt.

He was who she sought, and in time would figure it out.

“There need to be tasks performed by those behind the walls, against fate, against death, and lastly light. We will need to come up with a way tonight. For this to work, we must lurk in the shadows and stay in what we know best. The darkness of this place and the darkness of all the difference of race; the good must come with the bad, and the bad must come with the good. “

The moment she turned her eyes upon him Sarthas froze like a dark gargoyle placed as a sentinel in the garden against the moon's light. Those eyes, he knew those eyes as he had seen them before in a little girl that looked back at him with a defiant stare. Eyes that would well up in tears as the lashes tore the skin from her back again and again. There was strength in them, a will of iron that could not be bent and a conscience that could not be broken. She began to slowly approach, like royalty she held herself above him as if she could command the shadows themselves and they would do her bidding. Shaking his head slightly to rid himself of the vision, her words began to fill the air like a melody of music as she returned his riddle with those of her own. This woman was no fool, she was wise and far stronger than her delicate figure betrayed. A final step taken in his direction, her will blasting against him in a whirlwind of shadow and light. The shadow held his ground like a pillar of stone against her invisible assault.

“Memory so pale in the moonlight, the moon has lost its memory of the day and night.” And so it had but on this night he would make it remember again, he would bleed the world dry, he would rip the life from some poor pitiful soul and she would remember his face once more. She would always...remember. Still her words continued echoing against his soul, screaming against his mind in the most terrible of ways imaginable. She tested him, she was shorter but it seemed as if she were towering over him trying to crush his will with those powerful eyes. But she would not have him, he was bloody steel tempered in a lifetime of hatred and no will on this earth could hope to contain his darkness. Her pale doll like skin radiated light as if she were the moon itself that had come from the sky to stand there before him. He was darkness, vast and without bounds. Her light was soft and tempting. The two struggled against one another, fighting for the upper hand. His shadows trying to smother her light, while her silvery light fought to burn away his darkness.

Her words tore him to his senses once more. “...I need you to watch those closely, in the walls of the school, even if it means you to be cruel.” The evil narrowed its eyes. What did she mean? Simply to watch was never his job, his job had always been to take. To take lives, to douse that gentle candlelight and rip the hopes and dreams from men and women alike. He was the harbinger of death, not some guardian angel. She turned her eyes to the sky and spoke once more, the press of her will relenting slightly. The eye of the storm. Her words finished and silence rained over the garden's cool night air. In this moment of reprieve he fought through the tangle of thoughts to respond, the words spilled from his lips into the air like poison from the fangs of a snake. “You want me to what?” The man shifted ever so slightly, his smile fading to a scowl.

And yet perhaps there was more to this game than he could see. Perhaps this was a test, a test of his conviction. Tests he could understand, tests he would pass. If there is one thing that the man could never do, it was fail. He would succeed no matter the odds and in the end it would be he who consumed her. “Very well...” He added after a moments pause. The man's awful smile returned, as if it belonged on the creatures lips. “But you will pay me with more than money.” There was no debating the simple statement, the man would have what he wanted and she could do nothing to dissuade him. As if to illustrate this point he moved and it was as if the darkness itself had come alive. No human should have been able to move so fast, so elegantly with such fluid motion. In the blink of an eye he was behind her, whispering against her neck. “Quid Pro Quo” The three words echoed against her skin with hot breath as if he were condemning her to eternal damnation. He stepped back, into the shadow of a large rose bush, melting into it as if he were a part of it. "I will be your dark angel, but when it is ended you will teach me all I wish to know."

Earthen bodies would be in delight to watch as the attempted battle of the fires ignite; the darkness trying to cast it shadows over the light, and the light casting its own shadow against the night. The confusion was well played against the features of the man, for he had not a clue what she had in plan. Straightening her shoulders slightly, to fall back as he stood there looking at her, as if she were something he might like to slap. His movements might be quicker than, most but if she so chose she could appear like a ghost.

A ghost in the midnight’s summer’s dream, a ghost that can go undetected and unseen; he was a fool to play with the words that embraced, embraced his feelings and even his face. The smile from it could not go unseen for she was very careful and moved with grace as a queen. The words of payment left his lips as he came behind her trying to seal it with a kiss. Little did he know the ways of old, and little did he know that this attempt of being to bold.

Torture she could win this fight, Torture she would prove this very night. Living eyes stared at the movements of flash, as he moved behind her in little of a dash. His breath was felt against the tenderness of the delicate skin; for he thought he had the pawn in for this game to win.

Lips moving with a soft audible sound, very slowly as she would start to levitate off the ground, like the hissing of a snake, he had sealed his very first mistake. Words could still be heard though she had completely disappeared from sight.

“You have much to learn you creature of night…”

Nothing but a soft mist could be seen moving against the ground, in only a matter of seconds could her form are appear and be found. Standing behind him mimicking his own threat, as she would lean cold lips of wet, barely touching the back of his ear making sure he would miss nothing he was suppose to hear.

“You may be my dark angel, at night. Little do you understand the true meaning of the light. Much you need to learn about fear, and hopefully it will unveil as you stay here. The trouble you cause in your wake, make no mistake I will be the first to know. “

Now Sarthas did not believe in vampires, werewolves or the various other supernatural monsters that were created to frighten children. He after all, was a monster and what more did the world need? So it wasn't surprising how he responded. When what he had assumed to be a woman floated off the ground and then vanished completely in front of his eyes his body tensed. His muscles coiled like a tightly wound steel spring and his eyes narrowed as once more he froze completely. The man did not breath, as if he were nothing more than a stone construct to watch over the silent garden. As if he were a darkness within the darkness and yet not alone in that shadow. The feeling of its presence was unmistakeable as the creature appeared behind him. He did not react, though his mind was screaming for it. Instead that disgusting smile only spread like a cancer over his lips until it seemed to consume his entire face. Her words beat against him in a familiar way, as if she were chastiseing a very young child that didn't understand a simple truth.

At first he did not respond, instead he closed his eyes, tilting his head twards her lips almost as if the man were enjoying this unexpected and deadly turn of events. Taking a deep breath he scented the air around him. A breath that had been held until now. His arms hung loosely at his sides, his fingers twitching slightly as if begging to hold something. The air was fresh, cool and the fragrance of the flowers was thick enough to taste. But there was another scent in the air, one that he was so very familiar with and it came from her breath as it brushed against his pale skin. At last he spoke, in answer to her words only a moment before. His voice was quiet and calm, though he now understood he was playing a very dangerous game. “I have come because you have called to the shadows. I thought you a fool, but it seems that I have been the more foolish this evening.” The man lifted his hands slowly, catching hold of his hood and pulled it back revealing his empty features to the empty garden in front of him. As empty as the man was inside. “Some would name me a monster, but I wonder what they would call you?” His feet shifted, gaining purchase for what would come next though his tone did not change.

“Yet whatever creature you may be and whatever knowledge that you may have, know this...fear will not hold me.” Fear was what he inflicted not what he felt. It was quite possible the man could no longer feel the emotion at all. Though only time would tell if that were true or not. The dieing screams of countless victims rang like a demonic chorus in the twisted man's mind. Yet his smile remained as he pressed them back into the dark corners of his soul. Still, he did not move, still he did not try and look at the creature of a woman. There was no need too, he could taste her like the coppery hint of blood that oozed from her very breath. “I have agreed to your....job, but I will have my payment one way or another.” The next of his words dripped with vile so thick that simply the sound of it seemed to choke the very air around them. “And I think I will take some of it now.” The man moved once more, snapping around suddenly in a whirl of shadow to face the woman, no the creature, that had summoned him. Words flew from his lips in a hiss that truly seemed demonic. “Your name.”

It seemed a simple enough request for most, but it held far deeper meaning here in this meeting of shadows beneath the heavy light of the moon. He did not simply want her name, certainly he had heard what others called her. What was whispered upon dieing lips as he followed the trail back to its source. No Sarthas wanted something far more dangerous, a name that perhaps could not be spoken in words. A name that gave power when it was wielded. The man was testing her in his own way. He was driving her to show her cards before it was time. It was clear he was at a disadvantage here and he meant to fix this issue. Only those who danced the dance of darkness would understand what he truly meant, but Sarthas knew that whatever this woman was she was far from ordinary. She was dangerous. This is of course why he would press her. After all to him, life served only one purpose, to deliver death. Emotions and feelings like joy, contentment, love, friendship, peace...they did not help him in his goals and so they were were pointless. It made perfect sense, in a twisted, psychopathic and homicidal way. But then that is who Sarthas was. That is who he was tempered to be in the most violent way imaginable. And so he would test the unknown and he would have his reward...in this life or the next.

A legend a mythical being was the simple explanations that could be given, perhaps if he asked how she was actually liven he would understand. Alas, yet only have the battle here on the grounds, to understand would mean that you were sound. Sound in the mind, and sound with your feet, this being would be learning a lot more about the creatures that he would meet. Standing behind the man who was before her now, only showing that smirk upon her lips with her risen brown. Words softly could be heard even in the distance of a squawking bird.

Curls so softly brushed against her face as she pondered another moment, making him wait, the answer in which he sought she wondered if truly she would give, for in may in the end seal her fate. This was her place of refuge her only love, if he thought she would give in so easily he would learn quickly she wasn’t like a dove. A true being, one that signified hope little did he know she would have him by the end of his rope.

Living eyes looked at him once more before she spoke; her feet became a mist against the floor. The earth could not hold her here , and neither would he with his demanding will.

“You wish to know my name? Truly, you do not think that I would fall for such a game? Twisting your desires and filling them with hate. Trust me you will only get my name on a later date. You must earn your right to pitch such a request. Perhaps, indeed you are only like the others that have been put to the test.”

Pausing for a moment, she would look into the pits of his eyes, as she stood there now un yielding to him by surprise.

“You are not the only creature on this land, which has had a hand in hell with the devils band. You will learn that you are not the only one that lives without. You are not the only creature that hell itself has spat out.”

With a blink of an eye she disappeared into the nights sky……

Sarthas caught the eyes of the woman in front of him, testing them with a will that could not be broken. He was a child of hate, a thing of darkness spat up by hell as was suggested. Yet, he was not insane. Somehow the man had held on to his mind and survived the endless years of torture that those inflicted upon him and later he inflicted upon himself. He was no normal man, he would not be daunted by the impossible for he himself was the impossible. As the creatures voice played over his senses once more, the child of shadows tilted his head to the side with her refusal. He expected nothing less from this woman, whoever she was. The last of her words danced across his thoughts as she herself vanished into the night much the same way he had so many times in the past, only this was less of an illusion. She was truly gone.

The man stood there in silence considering her words carefully. What did she mean when she said he was not the only one? Closing his eyes once more he scented the air, tasting the lingering flavor of her presence in a very animalistic way. As if he were marking an opponent in his mind or perhaps a mentor, only time would tell. His voice slipped from his lips as he spoke his final words in parting to the empty garden around him. “Maybe I'm not the only one, but I promise you queen of blood...that I will be the last.” The darkness was gone, leaving behind only a memory of its cold presence with the dieing rose laying on the forsaken earth. Never again would he return to that garden uninvited for if ever a man lived without a heart, he was that man.