Chronicles of Contessa: Shadows of the Heart

THE
CHRONICLES OF CONTESSA
SHADOWS OF THE HEART

It was night and how he loved the night… his red eyes glowed like soft rubies in desert sand in the evening glow of the sun. The waves he could hear were thrashing about, pleading with him not to leave if not for the sea then for those in the castle who knew not of what was transpiring. Their heads resting against their pillows, dreaming of days to come, and the past of their discontent. So much heart ache and he would only add to the tears that fall from their eyes, his emotion was hushed and deep within. He replaced pain with anger and let it fuel his movements, the fire in his eyes would shy any and all who met them. His mind was as sharp as the jagged cliffs of Gedal, and his heart was set. The eldest son, heir to the throne of Thosaea took his first step from the kingdom and did not look back.
It was summer, the flowers blooming in the fields were watching this dark man walk amongst them as he crushed whatever petals fell beneath his uncaring sole. The small short sword unsheathed and edged enough to lop the heads from the longer ones, and they fell upon the grass like rain on a quilted willow. The moon watched him go, they would all watch as he stared forward not around nor up nor down but always on the horizon. On whatever would lead his life to more purpose, rather then the arguments the routine, reading over the books that told of the mysteries of the world rather then fact. A world that was, to him, based on lies where a concoction gave more peace then an honest response. He felt above the rest, the trivialities of court the children skipping at his heel were all too much for this stern man that trudged through the fields of his land.
He would give away all he could gain for the truth of his purpose in this life, the one answer that no book that he had read over a thousand times could tell him. His siblings had become a burden, no one could understand him not his father or Enea and his sister was too small to comprehend. His mother was dead… dead and buried and any knowledge of him was washed away by the silence of wood and soil. He did cry once on a night such as this, beside the grave that elegant flowered grave of his mother. The stone offering no consolation, the flowers only a bright sore that hurt his eyes and made him tear more. Why had she gone, why now and emotion reared its head to him and made him feel this way. He was sorry for being alone and cold yet his apologies and his tears fell on the cold stone.
Nothing, there was nothing that could make his questions go away. His eyes dried from that day and evermore, but before emotion can emerge from within this dark cloak and red eyes; before the love for another can make him human once more he must discover what is beyond his mind. The road disappeared and all was dark he continued on, the light from the moon was fading with the trees and the night, Lucca feared nothing however. Even the blackest wolf who had not eaten for two days would look away from the red eyes of Lucca, and feed on another. It was an otherworldly gift these eyes of his, his beautiful mark-less face of royal blood was a treasure to behold. Many of the ladies of court were quite smitten with this young strong and beautiful man, but his eyes would remove them from sight in an instant, no quandaries of love would come to assist his mind.
He would never leave things unsaid again, and he would ensure this, his eyes were set like the hawk on its prey. A place to sleep, a tree in a horseshoe was just to the left it had been many hours since he set out. Anything to keep him from this life, this life without purpose without an ideal and sleep would offer comfort.

So long as he didn’t dream.






But dream he did, he always did, and every night he would wish for none. Perhaps the fates that be derive pleasure from his tossing body in the throws of his rest were pleased at this. Their sick sense of humour availed Lucca not, and the dreams were horrid. Once he dreamed he was chained to a wooden post before his house, flames engulfed the kingdom as people flung themselves from the windows and balcony’s. The smoke was choking Lucca even in his sleep, then he saw them, his family writhing in flame and pain. His father and brother trying to crawl from the kingdom but they were already doomed, his sister crying and sitting in a ball while flames flickered around her. Then, always before he woke his mother… at least Lucca knew it was his mother for she was always burned to bone. Her skeleton twisted in fire and ash reached to his face, the boney fingers reaching for him. Then he woke in tears most times, but the dream had occurred so regularly that Lucca became desensitized.
His dream, Lucca felt, was trying to tell him that he must let go of all he cherished if he was to fight for them. At the same time he was selfish, he knew what he had to do, and most times only cared for just that. His brother, a shining light of nobility and honour one who could rightfully become the heir to the throne. That seat, glistening in jewels and gold was never for his dark self. To stand before a council and dictate this and that, tell whom what and them where. Lucca wanted a different power over people, it was the feeling he got when he looked at another, their immediate sense of fear. It was only then that Lucca was in control, that he felt he could continue on so long as his gaze was never shaken. His father a kind man, one who could easily dictate onto others and be respected no matter the outcome. The council would nod and smile, all out of fear for what the ruler could do to them. One who laughed when he held his daughter, Lucca did not know that joy… he supposed it was the stereotype that a cradled boy will grow soft. His mother doted on him evermore however, took him wherever she went, he was the first born after all. He remembered the sunlit days and the wildflowers in the meadows. The sand on the beach, the one place he could be calm with his ears to the unknown, it was the one place he feared and loved.
It was morning and Lucca picked himself from the ground, slightly groggy but he shook it off. The soft sound of a waterfall were drawing closer. It was not the light sound of the surf from his window while he stared at the pale moon. It was crashing and loud and it made Lucca scowl but he wanted to refresh himself, and water helped him think. It was as though it spoke to him, allowing him to know the answers of the land. The very earth speaking though the lifeblood itself, the flowers around the small lagoon reminded him of his mother. But now all he saw were those skeleton fingers calling to his very soul. Often those thoughts made him shake but he took control of his mind and looked at the cold water in front of him.
He disrobed, not caring for whomever was looking nature was always watching and its inhabitants lived without clothes. The cold water touching his skin made him out his mouth in sudden shock, and he breathed in deeply. But he walked in ward and the water became warmer, the ripples emanating from his trespass into the lagoon. He waded out and dived under letting the water soak his raven hair, he swam shortly before resting against the shallow shore and put his back to a rock. No doubt his family wondered of his whereabouts, they were looking all over now, their caring faces now strained with worry. He did not even leave a note, but he did not care. That world was behind him now and he would not likely return, it offered him nothing and now here he is. Small globules of water clung to his pale flesh and he looked down at himself, much of his youth was spent training. The rock behind him was not as firm as his own body, the cold water firmed his flesh and nipple areas making him feel rather warm. No woman alive could resist his eyes, not while she were to look at him in this blue and clear water.
His dark hair matted to his shoulders and back and made him look all the more erotic. The water grew warmer now, it was not just his imagination but an oddity. He looked to the water fall, and the noise from it ceased, the water fell but did not splash. Lucca cocked an eyebrow, something he was known for when he was pondering or questioning another’s logic. The water vibrated lightly, small drops popping out from beneath the mirror-like surface. Walking slowly on all fours was a woman, she looked ever so young though, her skin twinkled like diamonds. She looked directly at him, her bright green hair falling around and about her like it were caught in a wind. Though not a breath of air moved the trees or Lucca’s hair, he continued looking at her, not entirely surprised but he was, his face hid all his inner feelings. The woman crawled along the water, her hands not sinking into the depths but gliding along it as though it were melting ice. She drew closer and closer and Lucca watched and watched.



She was a wood nymph, this he knew no other creature could move as she did or enchant him with only her hair. She was just before him now, crawling back and forth like a caged jaguar and looking so very sincere. Her naked body hid nothing, all of the wondrous curves of the female body were present to Lucca, though she could as easily turn into another creature for his pleasure. Her body sank into the water while she moved close to him, so very close and then straddled his waist lightly. She let her most intimate area graze his, he couldn’t hide his arousal, only the rock could match his firmness. She moved her head around his face up and around, her hair was softer then the finest down and slide along Lucca’s cheek and neck. It tingled like the thorns on a rose, her eyes made him weak and the water was so very warm now. She let her lips tickle his face and they were aqua in colour and so very soft. Her nipples were making circles around his, and she pressed against him. She felt like feathers… like falling into feathers and Lucca’s hands were limp.
She touched his nose with her lips and he climaxed, his breathes suddenly rapid and exasperated, she touched him again and he climaxed again. He was lost in ecstasy and she smiled wildly, it was then that she spoke, her words were like a storm in the distance. Eerie… and covered with thoughts that the storm may pass, but it may also strike your very feet.
“Falling into maidens path
an uncertain trail, hoping to last
stay with me and all along
my touch ignites the feelings strong”
Lucca could hear her but his climax was still continuing, so much longer then before that he was in disbelief.
“I… wish to… know my place” he says speaking in bursts. She smiles and enters him beneath the water, he climaxes one hundred times in a row his mind is blown, her hands on his chest.
“With me you can stay forever more
and together make this lagoon lore
the two that found together soar
beyond the stars and milky shore” she says her kisses making his climax over and over.
“My life goddess… my path is not with you… I must make it alone… know I love you” he says surprised at his words. She looks saddened and the water cools,
“So do all who come and leave
and like all I must bereave
fair well and then come back to me
and together we indeed shall be” she says and then Lucca closes his eyes.
“You are blind to what you seek
your heart is closed, within you meek
an open heart makes you not weak
then know your place in life’s blue creek” she says.

He opens them…

It is night again, his body is cold, the nymph is gone. There are many things he does not know in this ethereal realm outside his home. There are goddesses and magic’s beyond his knowing, but this he knows. It is what he wants, he wants to see this world, and know his place in it.

Four months pass, his walks have led him to a forest. While he has passed through many, this one is most disheartening. It is a dead forest, no leaves on the branches no birds in the trees, all is silent. He walks on a cold air that carries him on horrifically. There is something about this misty land that unsettles him, the trees look black, almost burned yet more like someone painted them and pulled the leaves by hand. Animalistic marks on the bark make him wary of the road ahead, but to press on would be better then to wait for whatever carved its force into the trees. He trekked onward, the air growing colder, once he stopped and walked backward, the air became less harsh on his lungs… and then he walked forward and it worsened. This was an evil place, he realised… nothing other then a demonic being could make the air so foul and the trees so scarce.

At one time he saw a drop of water that was falling from a branch, though it was paused in mid-air. He touched it and it didn’t move, he pushed it and it stayed in place… something horrid was watching these woods, and it was watching Lucca too. He kept walking on and on until he reached a clearing, the clearing had straw-like grass on the ground and crunched under his boot. He continued onward, until he was surrounded by the mist and the trees disappeared in the fog. He became slightly afraid at this point, he never felt fear like he did in these woods not since Enea nearly drowned in the sea. Then he saw something, it was just ahead, the shape of… he could not make out. It looked like a pile of black clothing but it moved, slowly one side to another. Lucca approached slowly like one would toward a stray dog, the pile moved more and more. It was a person, clothed in black shrouds.. Lucca could see now that this person had a small pot.
Lucca walked around the person, it was a woman now that Lucca could see her face… an older woman with wisps of grey hair falling crookedly in front of her eyes. She was stirring a broth of some kind, Lucca thought it odd that the pot was steaming yet the woman had no fire beneath the cauldron.
“Do you live here?” Lucca asked and the woman continued to look into her pot like it was all she saw. Lucca knelt before her and looked at her face, it was then the woman stopped stirring her pot. Lucca tried to smile, she looked at him not saying a word and smiled horribly. Her teeth grew as she smiled longer, not sharp but stretched out beyond the reaches of a tooth’s ability. Lucca was struck with such sudden fear as he had never experienced, the hag then reached into her pot and held out what she had been cooking so tirelessly . It was a human head, the face was contorted with pain even though in death and it was red from being boiled in the pot of this old woman. Lucca almost vomited, but he looked harder at this horrible image, it was his own head before him severed and cooked with fresh blood pouring from out of the nose.
Lucca looked at it and screamed, the eyes… the eyes… that were looking at nothing moved to Lucca and he screamed again. The dead head before him smiled like the witch that held it. Lucca turned and began crawling away in fear and turned to look for the old woman but she and her cannibalistic entrée had disappeared into the mist like they had never been there. Lucca was frozen as a soft cackle filled the wind, a horrid laugh that made his hair stand on end. All the trees that Lucca saw were now moving slowly, as though they were trying to pull from the ground they were trapped in, writhing like breeding snakes. And Lucca was trapped in the middle, the very center of a cursed forest. He walked onward in the direction he planned his breath so heavy and fast, for every few seconds in a randomized pattern the witch would appear and give another ghastly illusion.
Lucca could feel her behind him, sometimes he could sense cold breath on his neck but nothing in the world would make him turn. The worst vision was when he saw the children… as he walked four children between the ages of six to ten were running unnaturally in the wood beside him. Lucca watched on as the children, naked, ran about like wolves on all fours their eyes red their nails sharp and curved like that of a cat. One of the four fell and the others pounced on the young boy, they began ripping at his flesh and the boy would squeal animalistic squeals. The others paid no heed and ripped limbs and ran off with them to eat in peace, the worst part was that they would look at Lucca and smile with their eyes of red.
Lucca’s mind could not take anymore the fear was making his legs cease, and the witch knew she had won. She approached from in front of him, in her small torn black shrouds her movements were erratic, some times she would vanish and appear in another location her body writhing and reaching at the sky then she would return on her path toward Lucca. Her hand reached out for him when a light appeared, a voice Lucca could recognise began chanting an odd language at her, the witch screamed a terrible scream and backed off in the same erratic way the mist retreated with her.
A hand fell on Lucca’s shoulder and he fell passing out but not before hearing…

“Foolish boy…”