My existance may have turned out very different, had it not been for Maria...
I was about four years old when we first truly met, though we had been engaged before birth. She was a fragile looking child, with a porceline face that seemed to echo tears to be shed. Her midnight black hair mirrored my own, as was customary for children of high birth. Her eyes seemed to always express a saddness that she could never tell anyone.
I was unimpressed. I stood there with my arms crossed and glared at her like I was forcing her to crumble under my will. She was hiding behind her Father's leg while our parents discussed wedding arrangements. Had I been older, I would have known better than to treat her so harshly, but that is the way of childhood.
On several occasions she came to see me while I was studying. She would quietly make her way through my father's house and creep into the library where I spent my time pouring over books I wasn't supposed to read. My mind would fill with arcane knowledge and arts, and she would sit next to me, staring at me with those mournful eyes. I always knew she was there, I simply ignored her, as I was oft to do with many things. Her hands would be wrapped around her knees as she stared at me longingly, hoping I would look up and acknowledge her.
I did occasionally, and she could convince me to grudgingly acompany her to some quiet outdoors spot where she would wax poetically and laugh. I tried to entertain her as well by applying what I had learned in my studies, causing leaves to dance or the branches of trees to bow to us as we passed them. I even produced a few sonnets for her, though they were either too cold or too angry to be truly love poems. She would regard me with a tender look and the saddness in her eyes would return. It was always there, a pain within her soul that no one could reach, yet she tried to hide it. I knew she wanted me t reach in and pluck it out, like a loved one should, but I was a child with no concept of love. What I did for her was merely to pass the time.
Time went on and we grew, my studies increased and frustration eagerly gathered within me. Maria came to see me with the same frequency as always, but I would turn away from her or order her out. She would simply gaze at me, with those eyes so full of pain and saddness, and not leave my presence. More than once did I resort to fits of rage in which nearby objects would simply burts into flame or fling themselves into a wall. Maria would simply stand there and wait, tears streaming down her cheeks, but no sobbing or what I would truly call crying.
On a cold autum day, Maria came to visit me. As in our younger days, she found me in my father's library, mulling over problems on a plane of existance mortals shouldn't dare tread. I was perhaps eight or nine by human calculations, but my kind had a lifespan measured a thousand score longer than even the fair ones of Avalon, so an accurate count is hard to comprehend. Maria came onto me and asked me if I would accompany her as usual to our secluded spot near that pristine lake, underneath that ancient willow. As I look into the past, I feel as if I could reach back and hold her close, and tell her I would go. She was wearing her wedding gown, and I knew that she intended for me to dress appropriately. Our ceremony was far off, but spiritually she wanted us together now.
Oh, how I regret those next few moments. A noblechild I may have been, yet I was always too full of rage. It blinded me from becoming what I could have been, it would have been so much better than what I became. I raised my head from my tome and glared at her with a look so full of venom that the air seemed to dissolve between us. She drew a smile without showing her teeth, and her saddness seemed to sparkle in her eyes.
Maria took my hand and placed it on her chest, "Come with me, please? Can't you feel how my heart trembles for this?"
I snatched my hand away and seethed with hatred, reminding her of her noble birth and how she should not ask for such things. She threw herself upon me and held my shoulders tightly, and I could feel her tears moistening my tunic. I endured this, for a was still a noblechild and this was a lady in distress. It was her father who entered the room after that, and seeing his daughter holding me so and I holding her trying to still her tears, he assumed we had already done what she had suggested.
He lept upon us and plucked Maria out of my arms. The next action sealed our fates, for he struck me. With the backside of his hand, he struck me full on the face. In reflection, I know he didn't do it consciously. It was merely a father's reaction at finding his daughter in such a state, but the damage had been done. A stream of fresh steaming crimson traveled down my face and across my lips so that I could taste my own indignity. I shake my head now, for it was my blinding rage that possessed me then.
With a scream of pure hatred, Maria's father was thrown backwards into a large bookcase, which shattered under the force of my throw. The damage wasn't through yet however, for the bookcase fell over top of him and struck my poor Maria in the square of her back. Maria would never walk again.
Maria didn't come to visit me after that, though she begged and pleaded for someone to take her to me. I was kept busy with my studies, and as such hardly had time to visit her. Even when I did come to visit, I was more often that not turned away at the door. On the few times I managed to gain entry and see her, we hardly spoke. She would ask me to hold her and would fall asleep in my arms, and that was the only peace she seemed to know.
I had grown to the equivilent of eleven now, and those in power deemed that I should be wed. Maria's parents refused her hand, and my parents wanted a bride who could walk during the ceremony. They quickly found a replacement, whom I never met, and Maria was told that our betrothal was anulled. I did not see her when she recieved this news, but I could hear the screams from her room.
I was taken home and prepared for my new bride. I didn't want to marry, so I snuck out during the night and made my way to the old willow tree next to that pristine lake. I was still dressed for my wedding in the morning and had taken care not to dirty or otherwise damage my garments. As I stepped into the clearing, I heard a soft sad melody blowing through the trees. The silence screamed in my ears, and the melody became a song. It was like the saddness in Maria's eyes, an all encompasing sorrow that chilled the air so that my breath wafted in the stillness.
I stalked out of the darkness towards the tree with a catlike grace only a true Zenithian can possess. The waters beyond were pitch black and calm and the refelction of the moon gleamed back a terrible crimson hue. The disquieting atmosphere didn't shatter my preditory calm as I continued towards the source of the somber melody. I rounded the tree and a glimpse of something that can only be truly expressed as the remnents of a dream upon a waking eyelid faded from veiw. The melody faded and I was left in silence.
I slumped against the tree and stared across the waters. It was then that I noticed that only the moon's reflection was crimson, for the full moon that dipped at the far edge of the lake was a pale white. My gaze continued down towards the waters the lapped on the shore, and there I found Maria. Her pitch black hair floating in disarray around her small form as her body lay on the lake bed. She was staring straight at me with those eyes so full of sorrow that for a moment I thought she had cried the lake into existance. She was wearing her wedding gown, and had somehow managed to remove herself from her room all the way out to our secret place, undiscovered. The lower half of her dress showed the remnants of her travel, but was still whole and for the most part unscathed. I could not move. The silence continued around me as I searched for a course of action. Maria continued to gaze at me with a longing that was too strong to acknowldge death.
The found us in the morning. Maria, quite dead and lying face up in the lake, which had now turned completely red, yet still clear as ever. And I, standing on the shore staring into her eyes. The new betrothal was anulled before I left that shoreline. The parents of the bride decided they didn't want a son-in-law with such a cursed soul. Maria's parents came to retrieve her body, but as soon as someone touched those crimson waters I let loose an energy that would send them flying into the trees. Maria's father came to me and forgave me, saying that he shouldn't have anulled the betrothal and that it wasn't my fault. He said that under different circumstances, we would have been together as he and his wife had been. At this point I held up a hand of warning, and turned to face him.
My face had a cold, calculating look to it. I could see it reflected in his eyes as I stared him down. I never said a word, but I made it clear to all that Maria was to stay as she had placed herself. In tribute, I had all the trees bow to her one last time, even the old willow. Its branches dipped in the water and from that day, autum never left its leaves. Nor did it ever leave that spot, those waters had an eternal chill to them and the crimson stain remained.
It was not long after that that I left, forsaking my parents and joining the legions of our country. Many battles did I win and many hardships did I bear before returning home and gaining the highest title of Zenith. Throughout my travels I still wonder, had things been different, who would I be?