This Winter Sky

I Will Love You, Anatole

Sariya

The sound of strong knuckles pounding on the polished oak door rang through the large house. Sariya, home alone, stiffened as a chill echoed through her spine. The house being as quiet as it was, the sudden sound startled her. Delicately setting her leather-bound book down on the coffee table, she tiptoed to the window of her room. The long, wavy white bottom of her purple gown dragged along the floor and caught on a chipped piece of wood. She stumbled forward and the seam of her dress ripped with a satisfying sound, but she brushed off her knees and kept walking, holding her skirt up as she made it to the giant oval window. Sometimes clothing could be so annoying. If her bossy older sister Gyra had decided not to give Sariya fashion tips before leaving before this morning, Sariya wouldn't have to wear such a hot and pointless thing. When her father went to work and left her alone in the mansion, she would have changed, but she had been too absorbed in her book. Now Sariya wished she had.

Using all her muscles to pull the heavy, golden curtains away from the window, Sariya uncovered the garnished window. Light trickled through the falling snow and warped glass and created little rainbows that danced on her pale skin. Sariya closed her eyes tightly at the sudden brightness of the winter sun, and rubbed her eyelids tiredly with the back of one hand. Yawning from the strain of moving the curtains, she stood on the tops of her toes to glance directly below her at the front door, a story beneath her. From her perch on the second floor, all she could see was a dirty brown horse with silver ears standing bravely in the snow. An expensive saddle nested on the horse's back, with neat travel bags tied around it. From a first glance, this was a normal horse. But after taking a minute to survey it, Sariya noticed something was wrong. Thick red droplets clung to the horses pelt. Sariya gagged, her eyes widening. From the window, she could see no wounds on the animal, or any source of the blood. She could not see the rider, either.

Something in her sensed that this was urgent. Grabbing a cloak from a nearby chair, Sariya swung it over her shoulders as she dashed down the spiral staircase. She didn't bother putting on shoes as she reached the door. She flung it open as fast as she could, the sunlight once again hurting her eyes. It was such a contrast to the cool darkness of the house.

As soon as the door opened, a figure slumped forward and fell against her. She gasped at the half-conscious, bloody, blonde haired young man in front of her. His face was blue with the cold from the sharp winter wind and his fingerless black leather gloves were torn and ragged. His eyes were half-closed and his hair was matted with blood and sweat. Sariya instinctively whipped the cloak from off of her shoulders and pulled it around the man. She wrapped her arms around him and half-carried, half-dragged him into the house, shutting the door with a slam behind her. The horse whinnied and stomped at the ground as it watched its master being carried away. Sariya ignored the animal the best she could.

A trail of melted red snow led from the door to the nearby sofa as she tried to gently drag the body. Sariya lay the man down as sensitively as she could on the cushions and looked around, frightened, for anything that would be useful. The boy's face was bleeding from a deep cut on his forehead. Not thinking clearly, Sariya reached for a piece of cloth decorating a nearby table and pressed it hard against the man's wound, trying to stop the blood. The white fabric was soon drenched, and so was her hand.

"Sir!" Sariya yelled at the man, gently shaking his shoulders. His eyelids fluttered, but he was completely unconscious now. She wiped some of the blood of his face with the sleeve of her dress. It was sticky and thick and smelled strange. "Sir, please, answer me." She gave him a slight shove, but regretted it as he groaned in pain. His hands moved, and he brought them to his side where blood soaked his handsome black jacket. His eyes stayed closed, however. "Please answer me," Sariya whispered, leaning close to investigate closer the cut on his forehead.