• Princess Asmara sat on her balcony staring out at the horizon. The sky glowed a bloody red shedding its plight onto the Mother Forest below. The battle was at its end and the elvin troops would soon be arriving at the banquet hall to feast. Either in merriment or in sorrow she was not certain, but she was sure of one thing: her fiancé Tamari would be coming home.
    Asmara’s pale cheeks flushed with pleasure at the thought of being whisked into Tamari’s arms and carried to the banquet hall. They both would be laughing happily to be able to see each other again after the protracted long months away from each other. The wind blew restlessly to the north swaying the loose strands of her pearl white hair. She closed her eyes and strained to hear the gods call to her to tell her the outcome of the battle that now lay dormant until next time.
    She swore she could hear Elmai, the goddess of war weeping tears of blood above them. She loved war, but she loved victory more. Tears dripped from Asmara’s chin onto her balled up hand. They had lost the battle and the casualties would soon be bringing loved ones home, limp in their arms. She looked up to see the shrunken army sluggishly descending upon the castle. The guests that had been shuffling with hushed words cried out in dismay if they saw a family member.
    Asmara leaned forward from the railing trying to catch a word or two. Why were they whispering? One of the other teenage boys around her age asked the elf next to him “Is it true? Is Tamari really dead?” A boy to his right plunked him on the head. “Are you nuts? Princess Asmara might hear.”
    But it was too late, Princess Asmara jumped off the balcony with a running start, rushing toward the soldiers carrying her beloved Tamari in their arms. Seeing her approaching, the soldiers drifted to a halt and set the body gently at her feet and turned to give the princess her privacy. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she knelt by him, taking up his hand in hers and looked into his eyes. He looked back, ragged breaths wheezing through cracked lips.
    “Asmara, my sweet, I am so sorry.”
    Bile rose in her throat. “Don’t say that! Don’t you ever say that! We’ll get you to the doctor. He can fix you right up and then you will be fine.” She took his head in her lap, smoothing back his raven hair caked thick with blood. “Who did this to you?” she asked softly.
    “Don’t. Please don’t.”
    “Who is he? I want to know.”
    “That’s not important.” Coughs interrupted his sentence, so violently that it arched his back.
    A soldier took her shoulder and started to move her away from him. She protested and fought to get back to his side. He was dying and she wanted to be with him.
    “Princess let him rest. Seeing you like this will only make him worse.”
    Tamari watched with saddened eyes as she was dragged away. He uttered three last words: “I love you” and then went limp.
    Asmara cried out his name in grief. The hollow wind answered her in reply. She ran forward, taking Tamari’s head into her lap holding it tight rocking it back and forth. The soldiers took him from her. This time she didn’t fight it. She just stared blankly after them as they continued on toward the castle.
    She got up shaking loose the lingering tears in her eyes and ran with all her might into the forest. She only had one place she wanted to go: Silver Moon Lake. It was rumored to be the place where her ancestor Princess Asmara and Prince Ezekiel III had fallen in love oh so many years ago. It always seemed to make her happy some how. Maybe since her name was after the beautiful princess from so long ago that was murdered, she had a certain link to this lake, the same way her ancestor had. Sometimes on a moonlit night like this she could hear Princess Asmara’s anguished cries wash over the lake.
    Asmara’s feet sunk into the soft clay at the edge of the lake, the water lapping up to her toes. She wrapped her knees in her arms and watched her reflection. She shivered. Is that really me? The elf princess in the water’s reflection nodded and smiled. The smile didn’t reach her eyes, they were full of sorrow. Asmara snorted in disgust at the elf in the water with her cheeks stained with tears. Nature never lies. She splashed the water disturbing the reflection, the ripples contorting her face and cracking it into a million little pieces.
    She sighed and looked up at the moon shining down on her, the pallid light making her skin glow. Her lips parted and her harmonious voice rang out over the lake bringing the faeries from their sleeping places on their pedals to come dance on the surface of the settling lake. The faeries sparkled in the light laughing and playing along with the music.

    * * *

    Prince Ezekiel XV swayed lazily in a Juniper Tree wrapped warmly in his wings nodding off to sleep, his face pulled up in a smirk as he heard his bodyguard frantically searching for him through the trees. He speculated returning to his cage in the kingdom but smelling the earthy smells of the forest around him, he thought otherwise. He stretched his velvet black wings that had eventually evolved to a more bat-like structure to its full span and folded them up again adjusting his weight for a more restful sleep.
    Through his dazed stupor a sweet hypnotic voice wafted through the air to his ears, shaking him alert. If it weren’t sad it wouldn’t have caught his attention but this song with dripping with sorrow luring his demonic senses to the sound. He dropped from the tree, folding up his wings, his legs itching for a proper walk. Wind whipped at his skin making it sting. The earth’s _____ still an irritation to his skin. He snarled pulling his wings to droop over his naked shoulders, protecting them from the cold.
    The voice most likely a women elf kept singing. The elfish accent still twanged in her English decent sang of sorrows and great battles. He crept closer, his wings dying for use. He swooped into the air taking the last few miles he would have had to walk in a matter of seconds.
    He perched in a tree above the elf’s head, watching the faeries dance on the silver lake below. His lips pulled back in a silent snarl at the reminder of the sweet taste of a faeries’ blood. He cringed at the memory and pulled closer to the branch that his bare feet clung to. It was a mistake. The branch creaked loudly at the small weight shift, disturbing the faeries below into flight. They retreated quickly to their homes leaving the water rippling in their wake. Ezekiel cursed violently to himself.
    The elf’s head whipped up in his direction, her expression of shock turning to pure hatred. He smiled and dropped from the branch descending quickly to the ground with one flap of his massive wings.

    * * *

    Asmara looked up to see what the disturbance was that scared the faeries so violently that they fled for their homes. A dark angel was hanging from a branch from the Mother Tree, 40 feet above her studying the ruckus he had caused with scrutinizing ember eyes. His mouth moved over indescribable words, fanged teeth flashing in the moonlight. He had noticed her and was plunging down toward the lake. He glided smoothly to a stop in the middle of the lake as if it were glass. Rings moved outward at every step he took toward her.
    Asmara removed a dagger from a sling on her ankle watching the enemy’s moves closely. He smiled amused at her. Was he that confident? She took a step forward her foot slipping ankle deep in the water, making her loose her balance. The dark angel took this as an opportunity and charged forward. She moved to put the dagger between herself and him but was too late.
    He flew past her a sharp pointed wing scrapping her arm leaving a deep cut. The demon’s wings folded and turned his yellow eyes on her. She dropped her dagger seeing the sorrow in his eyes.
    “Why are you sad?” She asked.
    He studied her for a moment trying to decide if he could trust her. She was the enemy after all. He sighed giving in.
    “My father keeps a very tight leash on me. I’m never free. Why are you sad?”
    “My fiancé died in the war.” Her wet eyes flared with anger.
    His eyes responded to the anger in a flash. The dagger was in the lake before she had time to retrieve it. She watched her dagger slip into the water as if it cut into it and got engulfed by its own crevice. She swallowed and turned to stare at the man with wings in front of her speculating.
    Their races had been cursed by times of war from almost the very beginning, their greed getting the best of them. She sighed, and to think that these demonic like creatures were actually once the most heavenly on the planet, just seeing them brought tears to your eyes. Their wings radiated the sunlight like a mirror to the sun. Tears came to her eyes.
    “What is your father’s name?” She asked.
    He gave a confused smile. “King Ezekiel the fourteenth.”
    “So you are Ezekiel the fifteenth?”
    His smile broadened. “Yes and you are?”
    “Princess Asmara.”
    His expression faltered. “My ancestor was so blinded by rage he killed his lover. Her name was Asmara, his was Ezekiel the third.”
    She smiled “Yes and where are we standing?”
    “This is where they first caught sight of each other. What a coincidence that this tended to happen.”
    Ezekiel reached across the large space between them to but his clawed hand on her cheek. She flinched back, reality hitting her like a bullet to the chest.
    “We can’t do this Prince Ezekiel, I am sorry. We are enemies and enemies we shall be.
    She turned and ran, dodging around trees letting the moonlit night guide her way. She looked back over her shoulder, the dark angel looking back at her with shocked unyielding eyes.
    “We don’t have to be enemies! Why do you let your parents control your life?”
    She looked behind her at the lake slowly disappearing from view the dark prince no longer in sight. Because they’re trying to prevent the same thing from happening again she answered the question silently to herself, beating her feet all the harder to quicken her arrival home.
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