The black stallion’s hooves pounded on the ground, flying its master through the sunny forest, causing bits of dirt and leaf to fly up behind them. Brightly colored birds chirped in the tress and a gentle breeze was on the warm air.
The man sitting atop the horse rode with a sense of urgency that is only seen in the most desperate of situations. His curly brown locks whipped about him in a fury and his determined brown eyes were fixed on the road before him.
‘I cannot be true!’ He thought, urging his steed forward. ‘She will be okay,’ he added, reassuring himself as one might do whilst going through a sort of denial.
The trees began to thin, exposing a bright cloudless blue sky. A large group of people, a hundred or so, came into view as the man drove his horse into a quiet charming little meadow where wild flowers danced lazily in the breeze. He slowed the horse down and jumped off as quickly as possible not waiting to tie the beast up, not caring if it ran off.
An onlooker whom was not affected by the situation in any way, may have, quiet possibly, been rather surprised at the group of people that had gathered the sunny afternoon. Among the spectators there were quite a few Lords and Ladies dressed in their usual splendor but there were also Peasants at the scene and even a few holy men. Normally people of the like would never stand so close together but no one seemed to notice, especially the dark haired horse rider who began to shove people aside, ignoring their protests, until he made it to the center of the circle. There lying amidst the wild purple orchids was a young woman who lay so still she seemed a corpse already.
The sun shone upon her, bathing her body in light as if she were an angel. She was on her back; one hand lay on her stomach and the other lay stretched out to the side. She wore a beautiful blue silk gown which trailed to the floor and would have been lovely except for the sad fact that it was torn and muddy and her long, wavy, brown hair, which was once beautiful, was strewn about her in a messy fashion that made it seem as if a bird had nested there.
“No,” the man whispered stumbling forward dropping to his knees next to her unmoving body. He brushed a strand of long brown hair from her beautiful, pale face which had a feverish feel to it; his tears threatening to fall. He looked over her body and noticed with horror that blood was oozing from a deep cut on her stomach and forming a pool around her body.
“Lucian” her voice was a soft melody, no louder than a whisper and it sounded strained as if it hurt to speak.
Relief flooded through him and the discovery that she was not dead but it only lasted a heartbeat for he saw that she was fading quickly.
“Suri” he said in a low voice coming closer to her, almost hovering over her body as if he could shield her from any further danger. “Suri you are going to be all right.” He tried reassuring her, hoping and praying that the words were true.
“No” she corrected him; her sad blue eyes boring into his sole, “It is my time to die my dear Lucian.”
“Don’t say that Suri! Help is on the way! Please just stay with me! Please” his voice was beginning to sound strained and desperate.
She lifted her cold hand to his cheek and he held it there. “Hush now my love,” she cooed. “I need you to do one last thing for me.”
“Anything for you,” he said his voice barely audible.
“You must go to my chambers. There is a letter for you. Please, you must be the first there.” There was a sort of desperation in her stunning blue eyes that made him want to jump up and go right then but he was rooted to the spot. He could not leave her.
“As you wish” he replied squeezing her hand, knowing that he would go later when he knew she was all right, because, she would be alright. He held on to that one flicker of hope, for, it was the only thing holding him together at the moment.
