Daughter of Water

Chapter 26

As I tried to sleep that night, the memories of the day replayed in my head-a constant battle taking place. Not only the past day but also the past few weeks. Has it been weeks already? If I think closely on it, it has been almost two weeks since I have been here. I looked out my small window at the darkened lava pits that had considerably cooled down to give the illusion of night.

But the soft glow of the lava still reminded me of something. Darren's hair had that soft ember glow.

At the thought of him, my heart lept. Somewhere in my heart, I told myself that I needed to do something. I needed to see him again. I wanted to see-

No. I couldn't see him again. I could never see him again unless it was on the battlefield. The followers of Liquis wanted me to pierce his flesh with my family's sword as they gladly cheer that he is dead. How could I do that though? I had defended that girl before under the influence of rage but he does not bring that feeling to me. Every time I had been near him, the only feeling he had brought was nervousness and excitement. Never anger.

I climbed out of my bed, the feeling of exhaustion never touching me in all the time I had been trying to dance with sleep.

I changed quietly into an easy pair of men's clothing and covered my hair with the wig that I had combed out after Ava's getting ahold of it. I slipped from the apartment down into the theatre and up into a balcony area where only a faint glow could be seen all around. But it was one glow that stood out.

On the balcony next to my own, a shadow figure was writing on paper with a feather.

"Stephen?" The shadow looked up to me, startled. I went back through the curtains and into the hallway, emerging back onto the balcony the writer was on. He greeted me with a smile and a knowing glint.

"Ah, my little rose maiden has been tending to her garden at this late hour has she? Been staring at the shepherd boy no less." I smiled and sauntered over to the railing of the balcony, fine gold coating the beautiful piece of art. Leaning against it, I crossed my arms over my slightly hidden chest and watched with amusement as he tried to figure out my clothing choice.

"Not staring but something close to that." He dropped the quill that had been in his hand and clapped his palms together.

"I have yet to be wrong. If that is how you feel about him, then why don't you give in for a bit? Let your true feelings reign supreme." Thinking over it, I shook my head of the thought and frowned at the writer.

"I cannot feel for him. It would be against everything I stand for if I was to feel for him." All of the confusion and pain I have felt so far would have been for naught. I can't do that to everyone again by running with my feelings again.

"I am quite curious about this boy of yours. Again, I do not wish to know his name but your story is one that is quill-worthy. Perhaps even performance worthy." In a moment of embarrassment, I wildly shook my head and waved my arms.

"No Stephen. Please don't. It isn't really all that important. Especially since nothing else will happen between us." He stood, my movements frozen. With slow deliberate movements, he stalked towards me with a serious face. When he was but a foot away from me, he paused.

"Love never stops." With that, he returned to his seat. I could feel the heat on my face as if the sun was shining on it. A sigh escaped my lips and I smiled, the words the writer before me finally making sense.

Exhaustion finally hit me and with a great yawn, I nodded to Stephen and began to walk out and back to my room. Before I did, I set a hand on his shoulder.

"It is a love that is never meant to be. If I was to love him, I would be spitting in the faces of those I have lost and those I love. He is poison." And with that last statement, I walked off of the balcony and back to my room, just as tired as the moment I had left.