Tragic Innocence

Chapter 60

            Mikash wondered through the glade, soaking in the refreshing Enonshine as it glistened off of his skin.  He thrilled in the feeling of the gentle gales flirting with his tossing hair of glistening obsidian.  He examined his soft tunic of washed white trimmed with stunning silver thread.  It flowed to his mid thighs where his legs were encased in leggings of corresponding fabric.  The black leather boots, he smiled with the sweet memory of Pentulla’s living warmth ensconced within the protective circle of his arms, graced beneath his knee with silver buckles that held them up.

            After he was captured and taken away from Pentulla that one tragic morning, he had lost complete trace of time.  He had been quickly transported into the heaving stronghold of dark shadows and held captive for a great length of time in a tiny, dark and wet cell.  The only thing that had kept him alive was the face of his beloved Pentulla.  Though his heart broke with each breathing moment of pained expression upon her features when he had last looked, it was still the last thing he remembered.

            It drove him on, willed him to breathe, to focus on the pure animal instinct of survival.  Something that he had not known he could do in his life before.

            He could still feel the delicious warmth of her smooth skin beneath his aching fingers as he had caressed her astounding face.  Mikash gazed down with a wrinkly smile at his upturned palms, rubbing his fingertips together with the pleasant thought of the touch.  His heart leaped at the thought of their linkage and felt the burgeoning bliss expanding deep in his heart.

            The day he thought that would bring him emptiness had finally come:  Pentulla finally gained her memory back but still shared her deep feelings for him.  His worst fear of her love turning cold once she had realized herself was all for naught.  As for that matter, it had only strengthened her tenacity and belief in their companionship.

            Mikash meditatively came around the corner where statues of graceful figures stood quietly with their beautiful faces etched into gray marble.  The garden that Crow provided for this special dual occasion was impressive enough with its stone-carved benches housed by sweeping willows and weaving pathways made from river stones fit together like a child’s wooden puzzle game.

            The soft murmuring of voices droned sleepily into his keen ears, waiting for the moment when she would show herself.  He raised his head, taking in the scenery of well-wishers and friends that he had thought he had long forgotten.  Only a fistful of these knew of Rolac’s annihilation, while others chose to imagine it as a mere legend for fireside stories to spook the little ones.  Mikash shook his head deep in thought.  Turning the awful tale into hard truth was not a priority to either party.

            His mind then combed through the reports of Pentulla and Crow regarding other matters.  His heart contracted with the thought of his childhood friend whose life had been foolishly spent and so quickly.  Would Sinot be proud of this moment or would he be grumbling angrily, skulking with a scowl beneath the dark shade of the willow?  Sorrow filled Mikash’s heart.  If only, he thought with a cheerless small shake of his head.

            A loud and clear blast trumped a melodic note that lingered in the sweetened air high over the heads of SunGold.  Mikash held his breath and felt his heart hammering roughly beneath his thin tunic.  His mouth grew dry and he forced down a suffocating gulp.

            At the far end of Crow’s whimsical garden, where he was forbidden to trod, stood a regal marquee encased with blindingly white flowing hangings too thick for the eye to see past.  The material parted with the announcement of whispering onlookers, all turning with expectant smiles upon their faces.