• Ezekiel watched Asmara go, shouting one last line, ‘We don’t have to be enemies! Why do you let your parents control your life?’ before taking flight back to his gothic castle. He kicked angrily at the branches that got in his way screaming in fits of rage. Her elfin face kept popping up in his mind. He snarled. Love always got in the way of what you want. He landed on the crown of on of the pointed towers and cursed at the heavens, once their true home, for what Ezekiel III had done to his people.
    “There you are!” ____ said. “You gave us a fright. We couldn’t find you anywhere.”
    Ezekiel looked past his frantic bodyguard to see his father. He was a spitting image of himself. He was masculine, fit, pale chiseled features, same yellow sharp eyes, jet black hair that fell just below his shoulders, and strong colossal wings that were like a cascading curtain of dark water, crowning his back. His features were pulled into a frown.
    “Where have you been? You’ve made your mother worse.”
    His wings felt like wet denim, weighing him down. He leapt from the tower’s stone point, his fore claws scrapping the stone tiling with a sharp clack. He landed beside his father his wings shaking themselves of their limpness and folded. Without looking to see if they were following him he went to his parents’ room.
    The moon’s light bathed the darkened room but the bad where his sickened mother was still in shadow. He swallowed slowly moving toward the bad. One black wing swept across the light of the window casting the room in a deeper shadow. His mother seemed to notice the difference in light.
    “Ezekie, is that you?” Ezekiel halted at the nickname, surprised.
    He rushed forward taking his mother’s hand in his, her sharp fingernails painted a brilliant blood red. “Yes mom, it is me.”
    She sighed, her sunken in eyes stared at him unseeing. “I am glad that you are home safe. Please don’t run off like that again. I thought you were killed.” She rasped in a horrified breath at the thought. “A world without my Ezekiel.” She whispered to herself and then fell asleep her hand going limp in his.
    He stared at her sleeping face, her raven hair haloing around her head, the same color as his. She whispered his name in her sleep a struggled breath catching in her throat. She woke up gasping and smiled apologetically to him. He smiled for her benefit and kissed her on the forehead before his father ordered him away, against his wife’s protest. He left their bedroom and closed the door behind them.
    Ezekiel wiped at his eyes and found that he was crying. Elves said that our species don’t have hearts. Then why am I crying? He asked himself.
    “Did you think that you could not cry?”
    Ezekiel turned to see ______ standing in the door way watching him. “Our nemesis the elves think that we have a hole for a heart.”
    “You shouldn’t care what they think.” His bodyguard’s face pinched into a scowl. “Now get some rest. You look exhausted.”
    Ezekiel headed off to his sleeping tower nodding as he went.

    * * *

    When Princess Asmara entered the banquet hall everyone gave her sympathetic looks. After the silence continued at her arrival she just excused herself and left for her room. Kameil came by t check on her but she just ordered him away. Tears poured down her cheeks as she stared out at the forest. It had been hard to face her fiancé’s death in general but having everyone giving her silence sympathy treatment only made the loss worse. She had entered the feasting hall in hopes of a cheery conversation with her people; they just stopped talking all together.
    Her father had come up later and assured her tat they just were afraid that they would make a mistake and let his name slip into the conversation. They hadn’t wanted to cause her any more grief. Asmara had laughed at him and sent him away. When the queen died he ordered everyone to not be hesitant to talk about her from their memory. He knew perfectly well that they should have just been themselves and she would have been fine.
    She searched for a tunic suitable to rest in, in her closet in a tasteful color and design. She picked out a deep olive green tunic with gold lining and headed for her bathroom. Asmara walked into the bathroom and turned on the water at full blast, steamy tendrils reaching for the ceiling. She stepped into the tub, the contact burning her skin. She sucked in a ragged breath and sunk her body slowly into the wooden crevice wincing at the heat.
    Asmara was just getting used to the water temperature when a harsh knock on the door interrupted her comfort. She glared at the door. Who would interrupt her quiet time? She mustered up the sweetest voice she can manage.
    “Who is it?”
    “It’s Kameil. I was wondering if you wanted me to bring up any food for you?”
    Asmara smiled. “Yes I would like that very much.”
    She listened as Kameil exited her room and headed for the banquet hall. She sighed deeply and sank further into the tub letting the steam surround her thinking about earlier that day. She had been waiting for Tamari to come home safely and that didn’t turn out that well and then when she was in the Mother Forest trying to calm herself of grief an enemy, a dark angel that very well could have been the killer of her dead fiancé, had come and interrupted that peace. To make matters worse she had hesitated in killing him and he threw her dagger into the sacred lake.
    Asmara screamed unhappily to herself. What’s wrong with me? She thought.
    “Princess is everything alright?” Kameil asked through the door.
    “Yeah. Yeah, fine.”
    He opened the door and slid the plate of food through it. “Alright here is your food. Get it while it’s still hot if you can.”
    She slipped out of the tub and dried off as best she could, slipping on the tunic. She left her hair dripping not caring enough to dry it. She was starving. She went over to the plate of food curious what Kamiel had prepared for her. There was a heaping hot plate of assorted cook leaves in a hazelnut sauce and a cool glass of water. She sighed in perpetual bliss. She picked up the plate careful not to burn herself and went to lie on her bed. There was a dark piece of parchment lying on her bed. She picked it up nibbling on her hazelnut covered leaves.
    Asmara,
    If you truly believe that our seeing each other is fate, meet me at the lake tomorrow at the same time we did tonight and we shall talk.
    ~Ezekiel
    Asmara put down the piece of parchment gently and sighed. She thought back to all the history lessons her father would put her though in her early youth about the great battles between the elves and their enemy the demons. Could that really change? For all I know I’m blinded by grief and Ezekiel too. A spy of father’s snuck a peek into the castle and almost got caught and had found out that the queen of the fallen angels had fallen ill.
    Asmara set her dinner aside and fell into a deep sleep.

    * * *

    Ezekiel waited until he heard ____ leave for his room before stowing away out his window the rhythmic flapping of his wings sending a sensual pride through him. He smiled in delight as he flew into the forest careful to dodge any elf guard that was on duty there. He took a piece of black parchment from a tie at his ankle and slit his finger, pinching it to let the blood flow freely. He wrote a message with the red ink that was his lifeblood, to Asmara. The parchment seeped up the scarlet blood as if thirsty, just like its master. He smiled down at it proud. This paper is the only paper used now days since its creation. Though the preferred ink, the paper’s companion wasn’t on his position at the moment, he was certain he would acquire some elf’s blood before the day was out. The dark green ink was a beautiful add on to the already wonderful necessity
    An elf nearby spotted him and charged forward swinging a sword at him. He was a novice. Ezekiel hit him on the neck making him faint and went on his way. A few more elves were foolish enough to get in his path. Lucky for them, he wasn’t in the mood to kill today. He took flight taking refuge in the trees. It would take him longer but the elves wouldn’t be able to get to him.
    He smiled down at an elf that was struggling to climb up the tree and then the elf stopped and closed his eyes and the tree started to reach its leafy branches toward Ezekiel. He leapt into the sky just in time, doing his best to hide in the shadows as he flew. He cursed to himself. There were too many of them. There was no way around them. He sighed and then he saw a young elf sitting in a branch not too far away staring right at him with such curiosity it started to lean too far on the branch.
    He smiled at her, encouraging her to fall forward. She did and in a flash he caught her. She looked up her cheeks flushed, her doughy young eyes wide with delight. He laughed to himself and brought her over to the shadows.
    “Hi little elf, what’s your name?”
    The little child flushed deeper red and stammered. “Lacretcia – my name is Lecretcia.”
    “Can you do me a favor?” He asked with his kindest smile. She took the paper from him and took it up to the guard at the gate. She pointed over at the spot where Ezekiel had been but he was no longer there. He smiled from the roof at the puzzled child then disappeared around the corner awaiting her return.
    The girl came to him obediently, though seemed disappointed. “Why didn’t you let me show you off.”
    Ezekiel wasn’t sure how his acting was but he tried on a sad face. “Your kin don’t like me.” Lecretcia seemed to believe him.
    “Don’t worry I believe you.” He smiled, putting a hand on her back.
    “I’m glad.” He bent down, canines slowly growing.
    He hesitated. She could be a great assistant. But he was still weak from the battle he had participated in earlier that day. Her lifeblood pulsed, music to his ears. He bent down his teeth brushing her neck. She shivered. He smiled at the reaction and plunged his fangs into the child, draining her of every last drop, saving some for his ink.
    He left the drained corpse where it lay and climbed the castle wall, taking a detour to Princess Asmara’s window. A guard noticed him, charging forward. Ezekiel laughed and bounced off the guard’s shoulder disappearing off the roof. The elf was knocked unconscious and wasn’t able to call out a warning.
    Ezekiel slipped under the princess’s window to listen. Her bodyguard had brought in Asmara’s dinner and had left. He heard her come back into her room and pick up the note. His stilled heart seemed to flutter. He mouthed the words from his note as she read them out loud to herself. She seemed at awe. He smiled to himself and slipped into the darkness, going unfortunately, to his towering bedroom.