She paused. “You're...alive?”
Dûrion paused, quite taken aback...she still remembers him. But then...it occurred to him that he was the only elf with black skin and red eyes she ever knew about.
“Ah well yes...I guess I should explain...” Dûrion started to say. “Well...long story short, I didn't really 'die,' more like outcasted.”
The princess stared at him for a moment. “I...”
“Yes, you...I assume...were told that I had died...well I didn't, just outcasted!”
The princess silently acknowledged his story.
“Do...you...want to know why?”
The princess shook her head.
“Well...then shall we get out of here?”
The princess nodded, and without much more hesitation, he took her hand and headed straight for the window...
The princess...knows my name...so she just has to be my childhood friend...Claara.
“Are...we gonna make it?” the princess asked abruptly interrupted his thoughts.
Dûrion himself wasn't quite sure...guardsmen on horseback..surely they'll catch up to them pretty fast. However, with his knowledge about movies, comics and stories...he knew there was just enough time for the anticipation that are-they-gonna-make-it situations has to offer, and the time to find a getaway point...be it a train, or maybe even a sports car laying at the edge of the dirt road ahead of them. Looking around...he could not find any of those things.
Cursing under his breath, he stopped running. Claara stopped as well, bumped into him as a matter of fact, and looked at him slightly confused. “What is wrong...Dûrion?”
Dûrion still felt strange, that Claara spoke to him so casually, as if they never even parted. But putting all thoughts aside, he suddenly gleamed and said, “No worries dear princess, I've a plan to escape!”
“Why...not call me by name?” she asked.
Dûrion wasn't sure if he felt it appropriate to, seeing that how he had not once thought about her until now.
“Ahem...well...C-Claara...” he nervously started talking, “well like I sad, I've a plan to get us out of here! And here we go!” With a wave of his arms flinging in front of him, and a snap and some fancy gibberish, two horses out of no where, strutted in front of them. “Ta-da!”
The princess politely applauded, and strangely was graceful and quiet.
“Come,” Dûrion said as he offered his hand to the princess “let us ride atop these steeds, and gallop off onto the darkness!”
The princess...Claara...grabbed hold onto his hand, and with the help of Dûrion, mounted herself onto one of the horses. Dûrion then to hopped onto the other horse, and together, sped their way deeper into the forest and away from the chasing guardsman.
Even after racing through the forest for quite a while, the night sky still blanketed the forest with darkness. Dûrion was tired, and he knew the horses were tired, so signaling the princess to follow suit, he slowed the horse down to a crawl. He thought that they should indeed rest, but where? Surely, they can't sleep out in the open. As if his prayers where answered, he spotted a cave off in the distance. “Come, I see a cave not too far off” Dûrion said as his attention were turned toward the princess. The princess nodded, and followed Dûrion as they headed toward the cave.
Inside the cave was cold, and a bit darker than the outside. He could hear nothing but the echoes from the hooves. After what seemed like only a few seconds since they entered the cave, they found themselves in quite a large, opened area, which seemed void of life...and anything else they could comfortably sleep on. Reaching a full stop, Dûrion turned to the princess and joked, “Well I apologize that a cozy queen sized mattress could not be provided for your comfort my princess...cold, hard surface would have to do for now.”
Dûrion paused and noticed the princess seemed to have her attention elsewhere, mostly toward the open area they had discovered. Turning back around, his jaw dropped slightly as his eyes were once again caught by surprise. The cave in front of them, which was once empty, was suddenly furnished, complete with a lit fire in the middle, two very comfortable looking beds and a stable big enough for the two horses.
As if they somehow became synced, they both let out a, “Whoa...”
They turned and stared at each other in silent fascination, and faced the welcome sight in front of them. The two would have kept on staring confoundedly, if not for the fact they were very tired. After maneuvering their weary steeds into the stable, they slowly made their way under the bed sheets, which were heavenly comfortable, it is as if they were laying on clouds. Taking their cue from the horses which were laying down to sleep, they closed their eyes and dozed off into a dreamless sleep.
Dûrion was standing out in the sunny day, and a slight breeze played through his shoulder length black hair. Noticing for what this was, he cursed at the writer for lying about a 'dreamless sleep,' but all the same he didn't feel like escaping it...apparently it was about his childhood and he did feel a little bit nostalgic. He took the time to survey the area, and realized he was in his home town, Elyphia. It was a very beautiful village, because the houses were made of the trunks of the one-thousand century trees. Moss and flowers lined around the trunk's surfaces, giving them a bit more bloom.
He suddenly realized where he exactly was— in a yard in front of a medium sized house, which belonged to one of the eldest elves in the village. He, among other elven children, were practicing magic, being taught by the elder. She started the tradition a long time ago, and successfully stuck. He had forgotten her name, but he liked her, for she gave him lots of cookies that he loved so much. Today was the day they learned the basics of elements, they had to Conjure up a wisp of flame and hold it for a few seconds. This required a tad bit of concentration...which he lacked...massively in. The other children have already summoned up various sizes of flame balls— some were already as big as their heads. However, he was more preoccupied with the girl next to him— Claara.
She, like him, stood out from the rest. While his profile affiliated with the cold, dark black, she was as pure as snow. Her hair, which reached down to her ears, were brilliantly white, and her skin pale and radiating with beauty he knew that there will be no other beauty such as that. He found it cute, as she was scrunching the bridge of her nose as she was staring deliberately hard at her hands with her cold, black and yet fair eyes, trying to evoke a wisp of flames...but she could only summon up embers and sparks. In the middle of another attempt, she caught him staring at her, and quickly hid her arms behind her back as if she was trying to hide her failed attempts, and let out a big wide grin. Dûrion couldn't help but grin himself. He thought he could live like this forever, live happily with the elf he'd grown up with, but that moment was stolen as he spotted two heavily armored men marching up toward the area he was in, followed by the village's Elder with a worried look on his face.
“Will you please reconsider this?” the Elder exclaimed as they got near.
“This is by order of the prince,” one the the men boomed out in a loud voice, “and we are obliged to follow.”
Dûrion couldn't help but feel uneasy about the men. Who were they? Why are they here? And his fears were answered, as one of the men took hold of Claara. Without thinking, he lunged and grabbed at the armored man, but with the massive difference of power, the man easily deflected Dûrion as if he was made of nothing but feathers.
“ Dûrion!” he heard Claara scream, “ Dûrion what's happening! Help me!”
Dûrion was frustrated, he couldn't do anything, all he could do was stare as the men pulled a teary-eyed Claara away from him. What could he do, what can he do? His heart pounded even faster, as the girl he had grown up with was getting farther and farther away from him every second he sat there quiet...and then...”CLAAAARAAAA!”
Dûrion sat on his bed, and peered into the darkness. He was trembling and in cold sweat, and was clenching hard on his blanket. The images of the dream still sounding in his head. Breathing heavily, he turned toward Claara lying motionless on her bed. His nerves suddenly calmed, and his breathing relaxed. There shouldn't be anything to worry about, now that she was just right there besides him, so everything is going to be okay...right? Then...why does he feel a pang of frustration?
Remembering that moment once again, he clenched his fist in anger. I should've been stronger...why wasn't I stronger? He then, called up the reason he dabbled in forbidden magic...he hoped he could find some way to travel into the past, and...and...and something inside him sunk, as he came to realize he could have done nothing. Still deep in thought, he hadn't notice Claara, looking back at him.
“Did...I wake you?” Dûrion asked.
The princess paused, just for a second, and then merely nodded. What the black elf doesn't know, was that she was also dreaming, despite the aforementioned 'dreamless sleep' prior to Dûrion's dream sequence. However, what made this dream more intriguing, was that it too involved a nostalgic past...a day where she had lost her smile— the day she had thought she was taken away from her first true love forever...
After mounting atop their steeds, and exiting the cave, they continued down the path they had been on the previous night, but at a more casual pace. It was quite an awkward silence, as they seem as if they had no clue what to say. The princess, Claara, seem to have a change of personality, and Dûrion was...well...felt like she was different from the smiling, happy-go-lucky little girl he had always known. He missed those days, and he cursed and sworn that he'll find whoever was responsible for this would surely pay...but until then...he just had to find a way to escape somewhere far with the princess, but all the same felt another frustration, wishing that they did not have to live the rest of their lives like this...always running, and hiding...Of course, he still has hopes that he could make it work out somehow where he doesn't have to keep doing all this.
He was so lost in thought, he hadn't notice that he was falling behind. Looking ahead, he spotted Claara stopped at the forest's opening. It was as if he was looking at an angel, mostly because the effect came from the rays of light from the sun that seemed to be hugging her...her beautiful white hair...her divine curves...her luscious— “This...is our first, sunrise” Claara suddenly spoke out into the open. Dûrion indicated agreement, and turned to look at the princess, only to see what he thought was more radiant and brighter than any sun...Claara, with her cold yet beautiful eyes, and her white lock of hair dangling splendidly unto her shoulders, was staring deeply into the sunrise, and saw what he hadn't seen for a very, long time...her smile...and he knew what she was seeing beyond that sun...freedom.
. . .