Friday, January 18, 2008
Tribeca: Part 2
Feria stood on the balcony of her bed chamber. The wind blowing her long curly black hair violently as she stared off into the horizon. Her heart raced as she tried to make sense of the last couple of hours. Her otherworldly beauty failed to be challenged by the worry in her heart. Her husband to be, Ebon, had run off to an unknown destination rather than wed her and rule over the land of Tribeca. He had taken with him Wake, his trainer in mysticism and lethal arts as well as Feria's unreturned and unacknowledged love.
Together, Ebon and Wake had caused great embarrassment and humiliation to her family by beating and stripping her father, the Count DaChase, of all his royal garments and adornments down to his nude flesh and binding him to a tree. Adding insult to injury his right eye was cut out. A royal scout had discovered the Count while making his hourly patrol of the outer borders of the Count's lands. Feria knew that there was much more to the story behind these events than that which was revealed to her. She tried to withhold judgment on Ebon and Wake, but an anger and bitterness unexplained to her had started to take control over her very being. Her heart bled that Wake was no longer around for her to admire from afar. Ebon, her best friend, had abandoned her. She would have made him a good wife. The wind continued to blow hard as the sky turned a dark bluish. A storm was coming.
The wondrous land of Tribeca fell under dark clouds. Feria watched the servants of the land quickly try and finish their tasks and duties before the terrible rain would wash away all their hard work. It was not a gradual downpour. The rain fell fast and hard as if it were a dark shroud. Feria did not flinch. She enjoyed the wetness of it all. It somehow made her feel more sensual, more in touch with her femininity. Grabbing hold of the balcony railing she leaned her form backwards as if she were baptizing herself. She looked straight up into the sky as the shimmery droplets of water rushed down onto her. Too late she saw it as it fell towards her. Among the wet rain a tiny brilliant form of light and gold and silver descended at lightning speed towards the Countess. Before she could scream or shield herself, Feria was struck in the center of her head. Her motionless form crumbled to the balcony floor. The rain fell harder as the storm began to rage.