Snowball

Snowball
by Kidoros

Email: papillonnuage@yahoo.de

Disclaimer: All items contained on these pages are non-profit amateur fiction. The Enchantments of Flesh and Spirit, The Bewitchments of Love and Hate, The Fulfilments of Fate and Desire and all characters named in those books are the copyright of Storm Constantine and her publishers. No infringement on the copyrights are intended. These stories are for personal enjoyment only and should be reproduced, electronically or otherwise, only for this purpose and never for profit of any sort.
Spoiler: settles after the three books.

Comments: This is my first Wraeththu fanfic. I never wrote fanfics about characters from other people just about real persons (musicians from Japanese rockbands). I hope it is not that bad. It didn’t turn out the way I wanted it to do.

Snowball

We’re all dreaming.

We live in our dreams.

And sometimes they mean more to us then the thing we call reality.

Soft moonlight showed through the window at a lone figure sitting on a windowsill staring out into the darkness. Long gold-blonde hair framed a lovely face. One could wonder what would keep a princess awake in the middle of the night but when one would look closer one would see that this beautiful creature was neither woman nor man.

A new world had been born out of the old one in which human’s right in the order of evolution had been replaced by a new generation of beings emerged from the male human bodies.

Its Tigrina played loneliness’ companion.

Even though the wraeththu believed themselves above the humans their emotions were still the same. A cruel lesson, which he had learned so long ago.

At such an unholy hour he could shut his title out and could pretend that everything was all right. An image of another life, of another har appeared in his mind. A nearly forgotten time where he remembered happiness and his love for his singing voice.

But then someone decided something else and nothing was the same anymore. He suddenly found himself in a situation he never wanted to be. He was the consort of the most powerful har in the wraeththu world. He should be happy that he was lucky enough to be Tigrina, right?

When he closed his eyes he felt incredible emptiness spread through his whole soul.

He was just a nice doll, at the side of a significant Tigron, playing the drama queen. A little fleeting smile touched his lips. This behaviour never failed to annoy Pell to no end. Cal was most of the time just amused.

Cal…the other Tigron, the person he feared the most turned into somewhat similar like an ally. He made his place in the hierarchy bearable. He made him understand that he would never gain what he wished for.

Had you ever loved someone even though you realized that this love would do you no good?

He knew Pell loved him somewhere in the depth of his heart in his own strange way but not enough for him being an important part in Pell’s life.  This part was reserved for Cal.

It didn’t matter what they both said or did. He would always be the stranger in this relationship. It seemed like his presence was only a whisper in the wind beside the two sensuous beings.

He was beautiful, yes, but his beauty was shallow. If one cared to look behind the mask one would recognize its fading traces. His mask…he wore it too often to be able to let it go now. On his way to realization he lost himself in his dance of masquerade and carnival.

A sad creature in his golden cage with no escape because of the person who set him up in this trap wouldn’t let him spread his broken wings anymore to fly into his freedom.

And sometimes when you shake a snowball to watch little white pieces flowing in the water like tiny snowflakes around a magnificent palace, maybe then you can see for a short moment a small shadow at one of the window staring at the glass wall, which surrounded its world, playing courtship with its imitation of illusion.

Alone with its strange collection of thoughts.

Alone with wasted dreams it defended.

The End

Red Moon

Red Moon
by Kidoros

Website: http://members.tripod.de/irrglaube

Disclaimer: Wraeththu and its world belong to Storm Constantine. I just borrow it and the characters. The song Lullabye (Goodnight, My Angel) is copirighted by Billy Joel.

Spoiler: for the second book.

Comments: I want to thank Addie for her help with this story. She helped me a lot. I’m still not so happy about it and my English in the story is not so good either. Maybe I will re-write it again someday when I can find the motivation to do it. I hope you still enjoy reading it. C&C are very welcome.

Red Moon

The little light, coming from the moon above, made his fingers look nearly translucent. He stopped counting the days, and hours a while ago. Now he just wished it would be finally over. He was tired of his thoughts – tired of waiting.

Was it so wrong to wish for a new start?

He couldn’t pretend to be what he wasn’t any longer. There was so much more outside the walls of his father’s tribe and he longed for it; so much that it hurt.

His father would never have understood it, in his heart was only the love for his obsession with power and darkness. He guessed he was only an experience. Something Ponclast had to show he could do and to see how things worked.

Closing his eyes Gahrazel tried to remember his hostling’s look but all he could recall was the sound of a soothing, warm voice along with a warm embrace.

What was the name of his hostling?

Only a fragment of a song lingered in his mind, giving him safety during lonely hours. A little treasure left over from a time where icy fingers of the silent poison, which his father was to him, hadn’t started to weave their fragile spider web to trap his sole possession, his soul

Goodnight, my angel
Time to close your eyes
And save this question for another day
I think I know what you’ve been asking me
I think you know what I’ve been trying to say
I promised I would never leave you
And you should always know
Wherever you may go
No matter where you are
I never will be far away

His hostling lived though this verse.

Smiling softly Gahrazel wondered idly when he had turned into such a romantic.

Would his life have taken a different route if his hostling was still an important part in his life? Like it were with Cobweb and Swift?

Swift was his friend…his only real friend. He loved him very much but Gahrazel also envied him. Swift had the childhood he wanted for himself.

Forever became for a short time his home. A home where he could hide behind anonymous masks of ignorance, forgetting reality always exists. But like it always was with reality, it wouldn’t let you forget it. Every time you threw it away from you it came back like a loyal boomerang you wished to get lost. And each return hurt a bit more than the last one.

It didn’t matter how hard he wished to belong to Swift’s little family, somehow he would remain an observer.

As ironic as it sounded, the only good thing his father had ever given him, had been to send him away. Every good thing had to end.

The development of the Varrs under his father’s leadership disgusted him. He didn’t know if the Gelaming would be any better, but they couldn’t be worse. A risk he dared to take. His small opportunity to find his freedom again…how could he let it go?

Maybe he shouldn’t have told Swift about his escape plans. Gahrazel frowned slightly. Lay there the error? Poor little Swift. He was so afraid and confused. He could understand him though. If he had what Swift had he would never waste a thought about leaving.

Have you betrayed me, Swift, my dear friend?

Was this the reason he never came to visit him in his prison, although he had asked him to come? He just wanted to see him again. To say goodbye to the person who had a reserved place in his heart. Even if it was a lie, Swift could have said that he would forgive him, and was sorry how this had ended. Gahrazel would believe every word. Deceiving oneself was not very hard especially when one chose to.

With his arms wrapped around his legs and his chin resting on his knees he tried to expel the loneliness, before it drove him into the open arms of madness.

You had grown wings, lovely tiny ones, only to have them torn to shreds at your first attempt to spread them.

So sad.

Waiting alone for death.

Would be there anyone to mourn him?

Not his father. He would be his son’s executioner, wouldn’t he?

He just regretted that he took Purah down with him. Purah who was so eager to leave the Varrs and everything they stood for, behind.

He had never intended to hurt anyone, never intended…

His head shot up. He thought he heard someone singing softly disturbing the thick silence surrounding him in his dark cell.

Goodnight, my angel
Now it’s time to sleep.
And still so many things I want to say
Remember all the songs you sang for me
When we went sailing on an emerald bay
And like a boat out on the ocean
I’m rocking you to sleep
The water’s dark
And deep inside this ancient heart
You’ll always be a part of me

Listening, he looked through the barred window, bloodstained by his bleeding skin, the moon seeming to glow red – beautiful…sad. He watched it’s sparkling surface until he heard the rustling of keys.

Let the curtains fall. The show was over.

The End