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Chapter 8

Million thoughts frictionate my nerves. Dad was never a writer breed, in fact he judged impractical writing as costly waste of time. I could imagine his face with a pout of impatience while writing this book, my breath quiver in pain while I touch his writing, bringing back the memories of my dad.

Brushing off these thoughts for a while I scratch my intellect to know why my dad wrote this book . Something must definitely connect him with this book. I stare with deep thoughts towards the only source of light, emerging thin rays in translucent blue night which gave in cool breeze of peace.

Ro has gone to fetch source for light brighter than the existing one. He's giving me enough time to make vague assumptions of the history during his backpack rumbling. History !! My dad's favorite subject, that's where I think the link is pointing at. His curiosity was always over the ancient enigmatic virtual bounds. Dad always made right conclusions of all historical politics, economy and livelihood. Earl's decaying stillness definitely might have pulled in his attention and destiny laid his work in his daughter's hand. If this book can give all the answers I would know the real person in my dad as well.

"Hey! Here's the light!", Ro walks in breaking the flow of my thinking.

He lays his fairly drizzled hand on my shoulder and I shiver with sudden sense of reality.

"Good. How's Linda ma'am?", I asked in an undertone of disinterest.

"Ah ... that ... librarian", he settles next to me. Blinking at a blank corner .. "she's a weird woman. She said something weird actually, it was just a statement I felt. She said I look like someone well known to her and this town, might have just confused me with someone else. But, her eyes were so intense and believable.", he trails off in his own thoughts rolling eyes no where in particular.

Both of us have had strange experiences and we needed answers.

"The night is going to get darker and closing hours are nearing, let's start?"

"Oh that's right, sure!"

The book seems to be awaiting with patience acquired of age. Again the pages turned in its own accord with wicked twists and curling of paper. Ro placed his strong elbow firmly on the first page. Light spread perfectly on the blotted print and I started to read it's mysterious contents.

"Slender twine encircle,

archaic trees emerald miracle.

Thy horse galloped in sib,

Royal forest lanes trig crib.

Riband lilacs lace of the hedge,

'hie Mamba hie to the wedge!'

I encourage my horse to the course.

frosty wind kisses palace of Morse,

gates bailing out for thy.

A damsel brushes past with writ of shy,

fervent as the roses in her clout,

She asunder's with a latent pout.

These were the thoughts that Rohanthan felt traveling to the unknown land of ROSEFIELD. The sun was still pale between the mountains rising above the brimstone of sapphire chroma. ROSEFIELD slurs with the prettiness of fresh wind and profound due. Rohanthan is riding on his horse Mamba, smoothly crushing glossy grass.

He's been traveling far and wide after losing his mother in a land crash which was believed to be the curse of defenders on Christ crucification.

He's in search of buyers for his animals, nurtured back home. Trading them is very hard for him as they are the only memories left of his mother, only marks of her lovable, humble life led. But, he has to survive and fulfill her dream to see him in armor protecting men from devastation and serve royale soldier duties.

His plans have failed in all the places he's traveled till now. Morse Earlin was his last hope, termed as richest traders he hoped him to help and show mercy. Morse was known to be humble as well and this latched a strong ray of hope in Rohanthan.

In these early hours of sunrise galloping firmly, he caught up with a beautiful girl, young and shy, walking from the thorny fields of roses. These fields blinds either side of forestly hedge path. The Tindle particles formed a translucent outline of her body carved into his eyes. She walked till the far end and disappeared into the hedges.

Rohanthan sighed and murmured to Mamba, 'horsey an angel crossed my path and I am sure we will succeed here, I wonder if she is from this town ..', his experienced hand slightly smother the mane of his horse while he thinks hard staring hard into the clear orange sky. "

I released a deep breath when I ended the chapter. I did not realize I had held my heartbeat hard. I turn towards Rohan only to find him cold and faint. I shake him hard and he opens his eyes wide. I can feel the shock on his face.

"Ella you are my angel!", He splits into darkness again.

I try to shake him up but, it is vain try. I carry him to the door with a lot of struggle. While I pick our jackets the librarian has her eye on me.

I am about to leave when she calls out to me, I am stunned with her last words, "you are dead dear Ella, he has you like him.", She points towards the black rose. "The boy will die, protect him.", She points towards with warning tone trailing off.

I need to know about Rohanthan to save Rohan. I can only guess one thing for sure right now, Rohan is none other than Rohanthan. I need to read the book further. Future always lies hidden in the past!