Burning Dark Heart

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
Love can be found in war.

Submitted: November 27, 2007

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Submitted: November 27, 2007

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I was the perfect lady in the medieval ages. I could walk, dance, and run with the ease and grace of a swan. I could sing with the melody of spring. I could flirt with the subtly of a fox. I knew all the right bows and all the right smiles. I could turn a man down with out bruising his pride and I could be as meek as a mouse. That was what I was but it took me a long time to realize that wasn’t who I was.
I was the pride and joy of my little village. I was the heart that beat to keep the village running. I would walk through the village every day encouraging and gracing the less fortunate with my presence. At least that was what I was told I was doing, was I? I was never really sure. I convinced my self I was.
It wasn’t until the fateful day that my village was attacked by a group of Faren raiders that I realized that I had been an actor my whole life.
The warning bells rang as the first screams floated through the air from the plantation fields. Workers froze in place, never before had the bells been rung no one could comprehend what was going on. But I could feel it in my heart I knew exactly what was going on and I knew what to do.
Gathering a voice that had never been raised above a whisper I yelled for all children and indisposed women to take shelter in their cellars with the same breath shouting for every available man and women to take up arms to fight for their lives and the lives of their loved ones.
I chucked off my fashionable high backed sandals hiked my skirts up to an indecent height and ran with everything my legs had in them for home.
I reached my house just as the first sounds of metal on metal drifted through the sky. I ripped my skirts off and everything under them, grabbing men’s clothing I quickly dressed. I grabbed the two daggers that rested over the fire place, one had belonged to my father the other to my brother now dead their weapons belonged to me, grabbing the wooden staff I kept beside my the door I rushed outside locating the battle field by fallowing the sounds of battle and dying men and women.
I jumped in to the battle with out thought or fear masterfully wielding my staff though I had never wielded it in a fight, play or otherwise. My staff became in extension of my thoughts and wants. I wanted to kill the raider about ready to slit a women’s throat… I did. I thought to stop a raider from running a man through the back… I did.
I swirled through the battle as masterfully as I danced in court. Blood drenched my cloths to my body and dyed my hair as red as fire.
One Faren raider drew me up short. We stood only feet apart, face-to-face. Weapons held out in front of us ready to ward of the blows we knew would come for our hearts told us they would.
Silence radiated out as the Faren raiders stopped fighting to turn toward him and me. Alarmed by the sudden change of mood the villagers stopped and turned toward us as well.
I noted what the others were doing with a small part of my mind but kept my focus on him, on the one that my heart recognized but my eyes did not. My soul stretched inside of me reaching out for something it had always known was there but could never find.
The man’s sword covered in carnage wavered as if he to sensed the bond our souls were straining for. The point of his sword dipped to the ground the tip coming to rest in the mud, the blood running off his blade creating another small pool of blood among millions.
He covered the distance with such speed I was unable to do anything as he grabbed my staff that I held firmly with both hands. With a hard yank I stumbled forward into his arms. He wrapped one hand around my arms and waist holding me firmly in place as he grabbed my chin with the other hand ignoring the blood that covered my face as effectively as if I wore a mask.
He carefully examined my face staring deep into my eyes. I felt no fear in this mans arms, I could feel my soul binding with his even as I stood in his embrace in the middle of a bloody battle field. “You’re a deathguard.” He whispered, his voice a haunting melody in the middle of a haunting scene.
I knew I should be confused, should be asking questions but I did not. I knew what he said was true and could only accept it. “A deathgaurd saves lives by taking them, a deathgaurd discourages death by dueling it out.” He leaned forward his face hovering only an inch from mine. “I’m Garason I’m a Weresoldier and you are mine.”
His mouth covered mine in a passionate kiss in the middle of a raging battle. My heart beat once; loudly; shock waves racing threw the village and the surrounding countryside.
“Weresoldier?” I murmured against his mouth. He pulled away slightly, licking the blood from his lips. “The animal side of the human race. I’m the wolf, the courage and spirit combined with the veracity and intelligence of humans.” I stared into his eyes and I knew the truth, beheld the me who I had covered up all my life. I rested my head against his chest the battle no longer concerning me the village no longer mine the responsibility no longer my own, “I’ am yours.” I whispered against his throat and those words filled me with hope…and love for a wolf I had met on a battlefield. 
 


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