The River

I was watching my breath. It slowly tumbled from my mouth and melted into the winternight fog. A cold shiver ran down my spine and I was forced to put the collar on my jacket up and my hands in my pockets. It must have been four hours since I left my warm apartment and went walking around the quiet, covered in snow city. I didn’t take my mobile with me, I just wanted to walk undisturbed and think what was wrong with me.
I don’t know what’s wrong with me.
But clouds don’t ask you if it would be okay for them to settle in, they just come and cover the sky. The next thing you know ice-cold rain is pouring on you and you’re shaking as every drop touches your skin. And you’re hoping someone will hold you to keep you warm. And you’re left alone again.

Clouds settled in for me a week ago. At first I welcomed them, thinking it’s only for a while. But then, slowly, as they dripped on my naked skin, they washed the little sanity I had left and I no longer knew what’s wrong with me. What was even worse, nothing in my life felt right.
I blamed it all on you for showing up in my life, for making the choices you did, for leaving me. I tried to stay away from you. I sung the love ballads we used to dance to a thousand times, I killed whatever memories I had left of you… and you’re still there, painted on my heart. Truth is, I love you too much to just let everything go down the drain; there will always be a part of me that will hold you dear, hold you the god of my idolatry. There will always be a trace of you, no matter how deep I bury you.

As I walk down the street, a car passes me by, the headlights coming from behind me as I throw a shadow on the pavement. Somehow it reminds me of that day we were standing on the banks of the river, laughing, holding hands, frowning at the sun and throwing stones over our reflections. I was trying to get you to jump with me, desperately trying to get you to fall for me. You agreed and I smiled a childish, naïve smile. You stood next to me and held my hand. “On three”, I said, still believing you would really jump.
“One...”
You gave me a broad smile.
“Two...”
You squeezed my hand gently.
“Three.”
I jumped. I felt your fingers slipping from my hand and somehow I managed to grip you and drag you in with me. You fell next to me with a splash and laughed.
You would’ve left me dive without you.
I knew, at that moment, my dreams of being together would shatter. I needed to hear from you “We’ll make it somehow”, but you never said it.

Later when we talked about us I told you I’m glad the waters I dived in were so shallow because the river was running too cold for me. You hesitated a while, I saw a sparkling tear in your eye, and then you nodded, saying the river is too cold. I turned away back then, knowing what a lie we just said to each other.
You knew the waters were deeper than anyone would ever notice.
I knew the waters were not cold.
Yet we said this to each other. Hurting ourselves to be happy again, to move on.

But here I am, walking in the cold winter night alone, with tears streaming down my cheeks.
How many days am I going to regret you?
How many nights until I forget you?
How many days are you going to regret me?
How many night until you forget me?
Will we move on or will we just stay here, crying underneath the sky?
Will we waist years?
Will we drown in our tears for each other?

14.12.2008
Replica

My December(s)

"This is my December,
this is my time of the year..."

It's December again. My month. My time of the year. My snow covered dreams.
It's the month in which I have the most birthday messages to send. Dates start from the beginning and go all the way till the end. Plus New Year, which is slightly more than I can bare. :D
This post, however, is a special greet to my Decembers. I wish all of them happy birthday.
For Bekki I wish her she has less problems and she smiled more.
For Allie I wish she looked on the bright side of things more often. I wish she finds her conqueror nature within, stops thinking so much and just goes for it.
As for me, I wish me to be back to being a fighter again. I wish to get out of this mess.
I wish I can meet you soon.

Love you.
Replica

Arms Around Your Love

A step more. She is gone. She left.
My days are empty without her. I call friends to fill my time with something and all they say is “Hey, she was just a girl, move on!” Thing is, she wasn’t just a girl. She was the girl. My love. And she is gone. She left.

I sit here, remembering how she loved to walk in here at night when she couldn’t sleep. This chair was her favourite. She would sit in it, grab a book from the shelf and read until she fell asleep and then I would come to take her to bed. But now she is gone. She left.

My phone is ringing – a friend. “Let’s go out tonight”, he says. “Let’s!”, I answer gladly. Something to take my mind away from her. I take my jacket and leave, I go outside in the cool night air. I walk to the place, the cold seeping through my clothes, touching my skin. Oh, how I wish she was here to keep me warm. She’s warming herself now, she is gone. She left.

I walk in the club, seeing my friend at a table, flashing him a smile. “A beer”, I tell the bartender and then I see her. Right there, on the other side of the bar, next to him. He gives me the beer and takes the money and then his arms, they hold her. They are around my love. She’s no longer mine, she is gone. She left.

Slowly I walk to my friend, not looking back. “Did you see him holding her?!”, I ask. “Who?”, my friend looks at me questioningly. “My love, that guy at the bar has his arms around her.”, I say, somewhat irritated. “This is how you pay for not showing what it is inside.”, my friend answers calmly. She is gone. She left.

Yet I still feel her in my arms. Her smell still haunts me. The price she asks of me is too high to pay. I’d better let her go. She is gone. She left.
I’d better go as well. I am gone. I left.

29.11.2008
Replica

Home

She was standing at the bus station. The engine roar was filling her mind. The petrol fumes filled her nostrils.
People were going off and on the buses, kissing goodbye or welcome, hugging and walking down the path, between the buses, past her, to a warm coffee shop.
Memories came how not so long ago she went to the bus station with joy, the smell of petrol filled her with happiness and the engine roar of the bus gave her hope that this time it won't be a waste. She remembered as she was going off in another city and there was someone she could hug and how she came back with tears in her eyes, alone again. She was looking for her home for years - that place she could hide from all the world, to be herself, no masks on, to laugh, to love. And every time it was all the same. The person opposite her smiled and gave her hope that this time it would be worth it, that this is her home, that he would hide her, and every time there was this fatal "last time" when the home was there, but it was cold and alien for her. And she would walk away hurt and bleeding.

She met him a year ago. She sought nothing more than friendship, but as time went by he managed to find a way to her heart and he himself offered what she was looking for. But even now fear was there, somewhere deep inside her. She was afraid that she would lose him, like she lost everyone before him. She was afraid it was too good to be true. She was afraid.
This is why she never went to the bus station to buy a ticket and run to his arms. She always went there to pick him up, to hold him and feel herself lost in him, feel herself becoming invisible for the world.

The speakers burst with a monotonous voice saying the platform number, the bus number, from which city it came and at what time and she smiled unconsciously. He was on it.
She saw the bus showing itself slowly behind the corner and a warm feeling filled her.
Coming closer.
She looked for him - there he was, smiling at her. She smiled too.
The bus stopped and she walked to it slowly. The doors opened and people went off, looking for their people.
He got off, smiled and hugged her. A cold chill ran down his spine.
- Let's go home.
- I am home.
She smiled at him and they walked with no direction, holding each other.

02.11.2008
Replica

Heiress of the Evening Sings in Silence

The night was crawling slowly through the window. The pink colors of sunset were stepping away to make place for the dark-blue of the night. The evening star was out, spreading it's light and announcing the Moon.
She was alone in her room, in the corner. Her knees to her chest, tears running down her cheeks. The syringe was next to her, full, ready to use. Her daily sin. The only way to run away from loneliness, from the pressure everyone around her put on her. The only way to sing in silence.

She was everyone's favorite, daddy's girl, always smiling and sweet, never in trouble. She was trying to keep that farce, to wear that mask, but it was all more than she could bear. She couldn't take it anymore.
Then he came - he understood her, held her when she needed to be held, listened to her, wiped her tears away. She never thought why he always had that long cloak and the hood. She never saw him coming closer, but knew he was always there. He had this smell of tears and unhappiness about him that filled her nostrils every time he was around. He first offered her the syringe, first showed her how to do it.

In time she realized this wasn't the way to run from it all, but it was too late. She trusted him too much, more than she wanted. She let herself be his toy.
The sweet smell of tears surrounded her. She raised her head and saw him standing before her. He knelt and took the syringe.
- Tears again. Let me stop them. - he tried to grab her arm.
- What of this is not the way?
- Then what is it?
- Will you love me?
- Always.
She smiled. Another bitter smile.
- Will you kiss me?
- First let me stop the tears.
She held her hand to him. He put the needle in her vein and bend to her.
- Say goodbye to the world. Death is here and wants to kiss you.
- I want to kiss him back.
A smile. She felt his cold lips on hers, then felt a sweet wave of serenity and warmth enveloping her. She relaxed her body in his embrace. He tossed some hair off her face.
- My heiress of the evening Sings in Silence.
She closed her eyes. Felt fragile like a rose on the snow.

22.10.2008
Replica

Dance with the Devil

Kneeling before the Devil, they bent their heads down on said the words. The three words that would forever bind the to him.

He opened his eyes for the charade first. Hers were still closed, finding only the wrong things. It was easier for her to find everything that did not work between them than the things that made her smile. It was easier to tell lies, to hide behind them and to believe he is still blind and believes them.
"I can show you I can see through your empty lies. I won't stay long in this world if you go on." he said once. Then she didn't believe him.

She remembered how he held his hand to her asking her to dance. They hadn't danced since they met, so many years ago. He embraced her and they danced. The Devil was smiling beside them
He slipped from her embrace. She raised her head to his face. He look aside, to the Devil. She slowly turned her head in that direction. Her eyes so nothing, she didn't feel him there. But the Devil was there, dancing with them.

- It's time to say goodbye, my love. Now, as we dance with the Devil tonight.

17. - 19.10.2008
Replica

In Black and White

Let’s play a game of chess. Like friends do. You play the black, for I know you like that color. For you it’s the color of death, the color in which our relationship was painted right from the start. I will play white. For I was always the ray of light that tried to turn the darkness into twilight.
I will set the board. King takes here, Queen goes there, the pawns in the front, my defences are built. Let’s start, shall we? You move first.

Slowly, one by one, my pawns fall just like my defences fell so long ago. A few of yours fell too, but very few. I keep going. I move my knights to protect my King, my heart, from you, for I feel you too close. You take them down. As you will take all my rooks and the bishops and finally reach where you were aiming – the King. Go ahead, take it. I give it to you freely.

Now that you got it, what will you do with it? It will not fit your black set, for it is too different. I will not change it’s color, for it’s too stubborn. It will just be there, to protect you and be beautiful by your side.
You tried to fit that piece in, but you couldn’t, so you threw it away. It broke in pieces and by accident I saw it there, lying on the ground and picked the pieces up. I recognized my King and put it back together. I know I will ask you to play a game of chess with me again, so I keep it.

And here we are, playing the same game of chess. You’re aiming for my King. I won’t give up that easy now. My King is fragile than before and defences around him are tougher than before.
Keep your pieces on your black squares and I’ll keep mine on my white ones.

16.10.2008
Replica

Tobacco Road

It was known as the Tobacco Road – the country’s largest tobacco trading company and the fields it owned with the road between the two. Thousands of people were employed by the company – adults, children, elderly – there was enough work for every one.
Dave had been out on the fields picking up the tobacco for almost as long as he could remember. His family was one of the few families that were loyal to the company and never fled it in hard times. The boy used to listen to stories about how his great grandfather first decided to work with the back-then small company. His son, Dave’s grandfather, started working with him at the age of 8 and so it became a tradition.
Secretly, Dave hated the place. He dreamed of what was beyond the wall separating the Road from the world. He was told, or to be exact overheard, rumours that it was all full of colors beyond anyone’s imagination – the sun was yellow, the sky was blue, the grass was green. Dave hated the black and white world he lived in. He dreamt that one day he could wake up before the break of dawn, go outside, lean against the wall and watch the sun rise. See all the color and beauty it held. Admire it. Instead, he would hear the factory roaring, announcing the new day.

Today he was called in the factory. One of the people who was responsible for packaging the cigarettes called sick so someone had to take his place. Dave gladly agreed to, just to see what it’s like to work in a factory.
Very few people could enter it and even fewer could afford to buy cigarettes. Sometimes, if you were very good at your job, you would get a cigarette in the break. But just sometimes.
Dave wanted to try one, inhale that pure poison, taste it, cough. He secretly took on of the cigarettes in the box before him and walked out for his lunch break. It was cold outside, mostly white today, since frost had fallen today morning. He took out a match from his pocket and lit it to the hard wall surrounding the Tobacco Road. He leaned on the wall and looked up to the greyish sky – no clouds today, no sun.
He could hear the boys on the other side of the Road singing happy songs. He called them the lucky boys. They were born in a world of color, a world that seemed so far away from Dave’s. He wanted to leave something behind, something that would be remembered. Something to put all his soul in, but he didn’t know what. Many times he thought of scratching a message on the wall, but he didn’t know what to write.

He looked up in the sky again, smoking the cigarette. Closed his eyes, listening to the song from the lucky boys. Opened them when the song finished and saw something red-greenish in the sky. Could be in this world of black and white a butterfly had come?
The kite was sawing the skies, followed by the shouts from the lucky boys.
Dave went home that day and asked his father.
- I saw this kite today. It was colourful. Can you catch it for me, father?
He didn’t answer. Dave looked in his eyes.
- It is but a world away, my son. We can not have color here. And we have just the smell of tobacco. Do you know what is said beyond the wall? ‘People on Tobacco Road can look, but they can’t play.’ You will never be on the other side of the wall, my son.

That day Dave decided what he would scratch on the wall, what he will leave behind.
He woke up the next morning, went to the factory, took another cigarette and went to smoke it by the wall. He took out his knife and scratched in the wood.

* * *

The factory was long but closed. Some man from beyond the sea bought the Tobacco Road and shut it down soon after, leaving so many people with no work. Dave watched from a hill nearby how machines came in and tore the factory down. The smell of tobacco was so strong now. He was surrounded by boys, telling him to fly the kite this was and that way.
Memories flooded his mind. He remembered his childhood, the black and white childhood he had. He remembered that first time he was called in the factory to work, the first cigarette, the lucky boys singing from the other side of the wall and the kite in the sky. He remembered what he wrote the next day on the wall and smiled.

* * *

Down the hill, the people were tearing down the wall. Many of the planks were scratched with meaningless or misspelled words, signs or names. But there was one that had just one sentence on it. The guy read. He looked up to the sky and saw a kite. Smiled
“If it takes me forever, one day I will have that kite.”

16.10.2008
Replica

King of Fools

Here we are again, right where we started. Same place, same time, even our clothes are the same. We sit at the opposite ends of the same table, drinking the same drinks we did then, but we look at each other differently. It’s been a while, what changed?
Remember our first talk? I told you I don’t feel confident to give this a go because I wasn’t what you needed. I was worried you fell for the peel and you wouldn’t like the inside at all. You told me it’s okay and kissed me. I still feel the same way, but this time you won’t kiss my worries away. I’m sorry I cannot ignore how I feel and be what you want me to be. I’m sorry for all the arguments we had in the past.
I’m sorry for some of the things I said to you, I’m sorry for all the lies you fed me. Seems that what I feel is the only truth and so I try to get by on my naïve hope that all will be okay. I don’t want a fairytale gone bad.
But what do you want? I’ve been told what I give out will be what I’ll receive, then why are you so cold when I touch you? You told me to leave my childish naivety behind and grow up, but you never showed me how. Tell me, if I still believe that we can be, will you crucify me for it?
Are you strong enough to hold us up if my naivety is what’s dragging us so close to shattering the frail connection between us? Would you resurrect what we had to do it? Would you start all over again and this time build us so that we could withstand everything? If I told you I am the queen of fools, would you wear the crown and be my king of fools?
Be naïve with me. Believe that we can be. Crucify yourself with me. Wear the crown. Be the king of fools.

14.10.2008
Replica

The Glass Wall

You look at me. You smile.
I'm lost in your eyes. I smile.
I hold out my hand to touch you, I can see, a little more. I feel the warmth of your skin and I close my eyes. My hand touches something cold and smooth, it is not your skin.
The glass wall.
I step back, with tears in my eyes. It is there again, why?
I see you, so close to me, and I cannot touch you.

Once upon a time you entered my mind. Once upon a time I entered your mind. I took all my masks off for you and I was what I never was with no one else. But not you. Slowly you were building the glass wall, building it around me. Building it with smiles and you wrote "I love you" on it.
Sometimes I find the strength to shatter the wall, I think it's just glass and it will fall under my blow and shatter. Every time all I can do is to crack it. And every time you manage to change the glass with a new, thicker one.
One day I will stop wanting to shatter the glass. One day I will stop looking back, to the glass wall, to you. One day...
Until then I will write with my tears "I love you" and "Don't walk away" and I will fall on my knees. I will show myself weak, I will lower myself. And you will keep watching me from the other side of the glass and you will laugh.

07.10.2008
Replica

No one can love the man, who guarded the light

He was standing on the lighthouse terrace. He could hear how the waves crashed in the old wall of the lighthouse. The cool night breeze was blowing through his hair. He was looking down, in the dark reefs, hidden by the waves.
- Born and raised by the sea… - he looked up to the bloody red moon. - Why didn’t you light their way?
Tears blurred his vision. He fell on his knees and cupped his face in his hands. The little light from the lighthouse illumined his miserable body. With all the strength he could muster he got to the hard bed in the small and dank room, which he used as a kitchen, bedroom and living room. He closed his eyes and soon fell asleep.
It all started last night. The “White Pearl” was coming to town – the biggest and most beautiful merchant ship ever to be built. It was New Year’s Eve when everybody wanted somebody by his side. The same would go for the young man. He left the lighthouse leaving the fire alight and went to town. He put on his finest clothes, tied his hair on the scruff of the head and went down the hundred stairs. Finally he reached the last one and right in front of it was a small half-decayed wooden door with metal lining. He smiled and took the key out of his pocket. He unlocked, went out and locked it from the outside. There was nothing that could be stolen from the lighthouse, but he locked by habit.
Down here everything looked twice more beautiful than from above. He stood on the edge of the cliffs and inhaled a deep breathe of the cool sea air. He smiled then walked towards town.

As usual, the people had organized a masquerade. He got lost in the crowd and was looking at the thousand brilliant colors the festival offered.
A young woman in a beautiful black dress and a mask passed by him. Their stairs met for a moment and then she was gone in the crowd. He looked around and saw her sitting at one of the few tables. He worked his way through to her while she was looking at him.
- Good evening, Miss.
- Good evening, young man.
They smiled at each other.
- I could not notice that you are alone just tonight. You are extremely beautiful, how could You be alone?
- Unfortunately, I am – she looked at him sadly – And what about You? You, too, are alone. Where is Your Lady?
- I… I don’t have a Lady. And I was wondering… if You… would like to dance?
She smiled and held out her hand.
- I would love to.

He caught her hand and helped her up. Then his hands were on her waist and they were dancing on the grass under the sounds of music. All the time they were smiling at each other and every time they turned, she got closer and closer to him. A song started, which seemed to make her sad and she tried to shake the sadness off. She pulled back from the man, but he was still holding her hand.
- Would You like to go?
She nodded and they both went away from the masquerade and to her house.
- I don not live far, would you please accompany me to my house? If you would like, you could stay for tonight.
- Miss, I would love to, but Your Lord? Would he not be back?
- Do not worry about him.
They walked some ten minutes and reached a small house. The girl unlocked the door and invited him in.

It was less than half an hour to midnight. They poured a glass of champagne and sat in front of the fireplace talking almost until it was time for the toast. She went out on the balcony to look at the fireworks and he went after her.
The whole town was counting the seconds left to midnight. The girl glanced at him and then her voice got lost in the voice of the town.
- Five, four, three, two, one… Happy New Year!

Thousands of fireworks lit up the night sky. Then she turned to him and kissed him. He took off her mask just to find an even more beautiful face hidden behind it. She smiled and kissed him again.

Couple of hours later, he was getting dressed to cross the whole town and reach his home – the lighthouse. He was walking through the wintry field that stood between him and the cape and thought of her. He reached the cliffs just next to the lighthouse and looked down and felt his body go numb – some fifty people were scattered on the sea shore below him. They all looked like puppets. Then he saw the broken mast and a large board with an intricate golden letters on it saying “White Pearl”.
He looked up to the lighthouse to see the fire was out. He took out the key with his hands shaking and ran up the hundred stairs to the top of the lighthouse. The fire was out some hours ago. He fainted.

He woke up at sunrise and the first thing he saw were the faces of the people – all saddened. He saw her among them, crying.
- You killed the father of my child! – she threw a rock at him, but he did not feel pain. Something mauled his soul then. He went out and left the lighthouse for a girl. Another rock, and another, and another…
He didn’t know what he did in the next hours. He was again at the lighthouse. At sundown he lit the fire and went to look at the sea from above. He pictured the last rays of the setting sun as the fireworks and thought she would come any time and kiss him.
- No one can love a man who guarded the light.
He stayed there until he could hear the waves whispering “All on board the ‘White Pearl’ had died. Coastal reef has claimed their lives.” He looked down at the sea.
- Born and raised by the sea… why didn’t you light their way?

He woke up. His first thought was the girl’s words “You killed the father of my child!” They echoed in his head and then he remembered what the waves whispered.
- The coastal reef will take my life.
He went to the lighthouse terrace again, climbed the low wall and looked down.
- All on board the “White Pearl” had died. Coastal reef has claimed their lives. It is time it claimed mine. One step will take me back inside, another sees my end in the watery abyss. Black oceans, rise and welcome me!
“…we therefore commit his body to the deep to be turned into corruption, looking for the resurrection of the body, when the sea shall give up her dead and the life of the world to come through our Lord…”

18.05.2006
Replica

C'est moi...

Take it back, take it all back now…

Thio's phone was ringing.

All the things left undiscovered…

It took her some time to wash her hands clean and find it in her back while singing the song. She looked the display. Private number. She sighed.
- Probably she forgot her phone again and is calling from her friends'.
She picked up.

- Hello?
- Well, well... how are you?

She felt startled. It wasn't her friend's voice. It was a man's voice, a familiar one.
- Who is this?- Кой е?
- Who do think this is?- Кой мислиш че е?
- Stop it, who is this?- Престанете! Кой е?
- You know very well who I am. You almost got away, didn't you?
Thio recognized the voice.
- Oh my God! It can't be! You can't be!
He laughed a sinister laugh.
- Oui, oui, mon amour...c'est moi.

Thio panicked. There was silence and just her heavy breathing. He broke it.
- Look out the window, honey.
Without thinking what she's doing, she headed to the kitchen window. She stood there looking outside to the darkness. She heard him hanging up the phone and he appeared in the window in front of her.
- C'est moi!
She screamed and ran up the stairs to get her gun. The man was looking after her until the heels of her feet were gone upstairs. He then opened the window and got in. A deep breath. Laughter. He headed for the hallway. He knew the house well, he lived for three and a half years in it. He knew all the secret places, he knew where every key for every door in the house was. Thio could not run away. He locked the front door and called out.
- Come on now, honey, don't hide. You know I know the house.

Thio was fervently going through the boxes in her wardrobe. It should be somewhere here. Where was it?
- Oh, I forgot to tell you. Your gun... - She stopped looking. - is with me, honey, don't look for it upstairs.

He pulled the gun out of the long coat and loaded it. One bullet, two bullets, three bullets. Three would be enough.
- Show time!

He ran up the stairs and started kicking the doors down.
- You know... - a kick and the first one was down. - that... - the second one. - you can't... - the third. The bedroom was the next, the room in which Thio was. - hide... a kick and it fell down as well. - from me.
A smile cut his face in half.
- I knew you are here. - he lifted the gun to her chest. - Tell me that past times won't die.
A shot.

Thio woke up from the nightmare. Heavy breathing. She got up to get a glass of water.
Her hand reached for a glass and her eyes saw the mirror and the sign written with her lipstick "C'est moi". In her ex-boyfriend's handwriting. She dropped the glass and it broke to pieces. She ran to the bedroom and found the gun. It was still there. She loaded it with a few bullets, her hands shaking. She felt a cold metal object to her throat.
- Come on, honey. Put it down. In fact, give it to me.
Thio gave him the gun. He took in and put it in the coat's pocket.
- Now stand up. Lay on the bed.

She did what she was told - got up from the floor and went to the bed. He took out handcuffs and tied her hands and legs to the bed frame. He then sat next to her.
- I gave you my time. I gave you my whole life. I gave you my whole love - to the last drop. And you thank me by leaving me in the middle of nowhere and walking away with some guy you met in the bar? How low can you go... by the way, where's your knight? I think he's gone... well, lucky for you, that makes me your God.
She opened her mouth to say something, but he put his finger on her lips.
- Don't say a word. Pacta sunt servanda. You broke ours.
- You're crazy! This is why I left you!
He giggled.
- You didn't think so the night before we walked into that bar.
He got off the bed and turned the lights off. He lit the black candle on Thio's night stand and put it on her chest.
- I promise you the end before the first light arrives.
He bent over and kissed her. There was a pearl earring on the night stand, he took it.
- I gave you these, for our first anniversary. How come you didn't throw them away? - he sounded ironic.
- These are pearls, how can I throw them away, even if they are from you?!
He grinned and put the earring in his pocket.
- You know, mother always said "My son, do the noble thing. You have to finish what you've started, not matter what it will cost. Now - sit, watch and learn. It doesn't matter how long you live, but what your morals say. You have to keep your part of the deal, now, don't say a word." Turns out it doesn't matter how long you live indeed. But you... who will remember you? You're a whore. I've seen you not once walking in the cool night with no underwear. I've seen you in the bed of not one man. And still, I will love you until the last drop falls.

The sky was getting lighter.
- I promise you to end this before the sunrise. So it shall be.
He kissed her one last time. Went to the door and pointed the gun to her.
- Vade retro, alter ego. I have never wished you dead... yet. Now hear how the headless doves cry.

A shot. Darkness. Coldness...

14.05.2006
Replica

Cold/Broken/Alone

It's getting colder by the minute. I need you now. I need you here. I want to know that I can hide in your shadow, that you will hide me from the world and tell them you haven't seen me today, or tomorrow. I want to know that I will always find shelter from the storm in your embrace. All I ask of you is to look in my eyes and hold me at night. I need to feel your warm body pressed to mine, your breath on my neck, your hands around me. I want to hear your calm breathing and watch you sleep when I wake up... when I wake up next to you.

But you're just an illusion...

16.09.2008
Replica

Love Infernal

And finally, the last part of the Wildfire series. After this one, I promised myself not to write any more parts since the whole idea is getting kinda exploited. However, I have a fifth part I begun writing some eleven months ago, but I highly doubt it'll ever be finished. For now, the Stranger is sound asleep inside of me, hugging Neeyla.

~

- No light, only suffocating dark.
His face was buried in his hands.
- No light, only suffocating dark. There's no point to live...
Caleb took a piece of paper and a pen from the shelf nearby and wrote a few lines. Then he got up and walked to the big balcony.

Neeyla and the Stranger were watching up, to the 24th floor.
Caleb sighed. He opened the door, went out and looked down. He saw just a red-haired woman in a long coat. For a moment it seemed she was watching him, piercing him with her stare. He closed his eyes. When he opened them she was gone. He felt happy that no one would witness his end. As he was just about to jump, he heard a gentle women's voice behind him:
- Caleb... why are we so sad? Are we feeling hurt by their evil lies and all those empty words? We are thirsty for payback? What would we like to do with the town? Would we like to make it dance... with the Animal? Would we? Would we?! Tell us, what would we like to do...
- Who are you?
- I've told you all, but who I am. Have faith in me. Have faith in me...
Caleb stared at her. Tall, slim, green-eyed and gorgeous, her hair seemed to burn. Her face was lit by a smile, a charming smile. She held his hand out to him.
- Have faith in me. You're going to waste your life to pleasure those lower creatures that hurt you. Have faith in me. Take my hand. Trust me.
Caleb hesitated, but took her hand. The moment he touched her soft skin, he felt his skin burn. Then is felt as if his whole hand was burning. The pain was getting unbearable. He started to lose consciousness. The last thing he saw was how behind the beautiful woman, a man in a long coat appeared and took her by the shoulders with a grin.

***

- Good work, honey. I knew you could do it on your own.
- The fire told me what to do. I could hear this voice in my head that guided me and told me what to say and do.
- Splendid, splendid! - the Stranger smiled and kissed her.
Caleb was lying a few meters away from them. He heard their short conversation as some far echo and could barely make out what they were talking. He opened his eyes. He needed some time to get used to the gloom. He was in a big well-furnitured hall. He looked around and made out the silhouettes of the two. He tried to get up, but he was still weak. Neeyla felt him, pushed the Stranger aside and walked slowly to Caleb. The Stranger pierced her back with his burning stare.
- Don't be jealous, sweetheart.
- I'm not jealous.
- A lie... and you know I know it.
Caleb's eyes widened. The smile he saw he didn't know how long ago, was on the woman's face again.
- Who are you? What do you want from me?
- Oh, for fuck's sake, why do you always ask who we are... - the Stranger shrugged, turned his back to Neeyla and Caleb and fixed his eyes on something in the room.
- Enough. You know...
- I know you knew who and what I am, Neeyla!
She turned to him.
- Then why didn't you enter his dreams as well?
- I don't like guys, honey.
- In that case, shut up and let me explain to Caleb what's going on here, because I can feel he's on the edge of sanity. - She turned to Caleb. - My name is Neeyla. I found you just when you needed me the most.
- Needed US. You are this because I made you this, Neeyla, don't forget it.
- Needed us... you see, we find beauty in fire. We think it's a purifying power. It can erase all since and it brings pleasure. Beautiful and destructive... just like me and the Stranger.
- You're insane...
Neeyla laughed.
- Maybe. But it was fire that helped me. It was years ago when I first met the Stranger. He came to my dreams. I was as confused as you are now and thought him insane, but he showed me the true things in life. He showed me how just a word can start a fire... literally. He showed me the beauty of fire. I want to share that beauty with someone. That's why I chose you. See, when the Stranger came, I almost had a nervous breakdown - no friends, I was in love with a guy I could never have. The fire helped me overcome this. Everything that was ever in my way to be happy is dust... literally. - she grinned at Caleb's stare. - I know what's going on in your head. The moment you touched me, you became a small part of me. I know what's going on every single moment. And I will know until you prove that the old Caleb is gone and Wildfire came in his place.
- Psychos... Wildfire died years ago! Don't you watch the news?
The Stranger was furious. A few quick steps and he was by Caleb, pushing Neeyla aside and grabbing his head. Caleb felt a burning pain. Then saw a small street, a man with a knife in his hand, cutting his veins... "Farewell Wildfire..."
The picture changed to a cemetery. An Angel. "Warren Adrien Gray". A black rose. "The sire never dies, Warren... never!"
The Stranger took his hands away form Caleb. He wriggled.
- Do you understand now, Caleb? Neeyla was the next. She proved to be stronger than Warren. She chose you. She chose you!
- Stop is! Leave me to talk to him! It's no use shouting!
- So be it... - the Stranger's hand caught fire for a moment, then he walked out of the room. Neeyla followed him with a stare.
- So... now that you know the Wildfire story and what it is, I can offer you two things - become one of us, or die. Decide fast. Till tomorrow night.
She winked at him and walked to the door.
- Neeyla... - she stopped in her place - I... how long have I been here?
- Two days. I hit you a bit harder than I should... - she looked at him shyly over one shoulder. - but I hope you'll forgive me. - she smiled and left.

***

- Why, Neeyla?
- You know why. You're a part of me, damn you, you know everything I do. You know why.
- I don't know why him.
- Why me?
- Because I felt the power in you.
- Assume that I felt the power in him.
- I don't like him.
- I know. I know it from the moment he opened his eyes and I walked to him. You feel threatened by him, because he is younger. You think I'm going to fall for some kid? You think I would kill what we have, I would kill Wildfire again, to have him?
- Neeyla... he will come between us. Don't deny it.
- I won't. You are right, he will. Caleb will be our challenge. Maybe this is why I chose him. Maybe I want to show myself that you still care for me. Maybe I want to show the world the fire is above everything else.

***

- Get up! - the Stranger shook Caleb roughly. - It's time for your decision. Are you with us?
Caleb shook his head and looked at Neeyla. She smiled for him.
- Well, Caleb? - her voice sounded softer that the Stranger's. - What did you choose?
Caleb looked at her, than the Stranger, than her again. He didn't know what to say. He wanted to die, but just her smile was enough to keep him alive. He bowed his head down and murmured:
- I'm with you...
The Stranger grinned.
- Welcome, Wildfire.
"I hate you! You're suffocating Neeyla!"
- Caleb, watch your mouth. - Neeyle looked at him. - I'm still up there.
The Stranger looked at Neeyla. She let him hear the words the way she heard them.

- Son of a bitch! How can he say I'm suffocating you?!
- Easy... I told you he would come between us. I told you he would be out challenge.

- Now that we are clear, it's time to show you some thing, give you some advice and let you run free, Caleb. The only masters you will have from now on is me and the Stranger.
Caleb nodded.
- And the moment you try to go against me or her, you'll die. Painfully.
Neeyla held her hand to Caleb. He looked at it, then looked in her eyes.
- Don't worry, nothing will happen now.
Caleb took her suspiciously. She helped him up and they walked out, leaving the Stranger alonce.

- Neeyla, if something happens...
- You know I can take care of myself.
- I know, but still.
- Then don't worry.

Neeyla and Caleb went out for a walk. It was mid June, the sun was out and it was hot outside, yet Neeyla didn't take her coat off.
- You wonder why I have my coat on, don't you? - she smiled.
- Yes.
- When you touch the fire the way we do it with the Stranger, you start burning inside. Every time someone bumps into you and touches your skin, he faints or dies, if the contact is longer. This is why I have to go out with a coat.
Caleb walked, watching his feet.
The two of them walked until the sun set. They were miles away from the last building of the town, but none of them was tired.
- It's time to see what you can do and what you need to learn. - Neeyla took her coat off and revealed a darkred leather corset. - Careful not to burn yourself. - she winked at him and made a small fireball inches away from her palms - Let's begin.
She threw the ball to Caleb. He dodged it. He felt how the anger inside him built up. Neeyla opened her mind fully to the Stranger and he could see everything through her eyes. She closed it to Caleb and went on. Another ball, this time bigger, she left it hanging in the air and made a few more. Then she sent them to Caleb. He dodged the first one, but the second burnt him. He could hear in his head the Stranger's voice whispering "Burn it...". He felt his anger taking control. Then it seemed his blood was boiling. He looked at his hands - burning. Neeyla was smiling.
- Not bad. You need to learn to control anger. You have to foretell every step of your enemy... - she stepped to the side, then another step and another - to know what to do!
She suddenly made a big fireball and threw it to Caleb. He reacted in time, stopped it, made if twice as big and threw if back to Neeyla. She looked at the ball with interest while it was flying to her. She stepped to the side and felt just the warmth of fire.
- Nice try, but not good enough. Rest, I have something to do and we go back. Tomorrow we'll try again.
Neeyla took her coat, dusted it off and headed to the edge of the rocks.

- He's good.
- Not better than you. You could do those things without me helping you learn them.
- You know I am the best in fireballs.
- And still, take care of yourself.
- He is far less than what I offered today.

Neeyla felt something stirring behind her back. She bent quickly. A fireball with the size of a basketball flew over her. She stared at Caleb and smiled.
- Very good... Wildfire.
He grinned.

The two were walking home. Neeyla was walking quietly and glanced over her shoulder from time to time. Caleb was thinking.
- You called me Wildfire. Does this mean you're not in my head anymore?
- Yes.
- So I can finally say how I feel about the Stranger?
Neeyla looked at him bitterly.
- Do not even think it. These things I can sense even when a stranger comments us in his mind when we pass on the street.
- I wish I had someone I care so much for you. - he looked at her. - someone like you, Neelya.
Neeyle opened her mind to the Stranger.
- You know you can't have me.
- What if the Stranger dies?
- You think of killing him?
The Stranger smiled. And she closed her mind.

Neeyla and Caleb walked to home. He felt tired and went to bed shortly after they got home. Neeyla was avoiding the Stranger.

***

Caleb and Neelya spent more and more time together, as if the Stranger didn't exist for them. He watched Caleb tease Neeyla and then he realized her words were true. Caleb was standing between them more and more with every day.
The Stranger found a time when Caleb was out of the room and got in, to Neeyla.
- What's going on? Did you forget who made you what you are? Maybe you feel great when you have a disciple?
- Don't talk to her like that!
The Stranger turned. Caleb just got in. He had a huge fireball made and threw it at the Stranger. He dodged it.
- You want to fight?
- No! I want to kill you!
Neeyla was sitting and watching.
The Stranger was furious. He was burning... not just the hands, his whole body. Caleb didn't stop before that. He attacked him bravely, with fire.
The fight went on for hours and there was not a scratch on either of them. Caleb took one of the swords on the wall.
- Strange choice of weapon, but let it be by your rules.
The Stranger took the other sword and attacked. Caleb warded off. Two more attacks and Caleb was on his knees. A swing of the sword, a hit on the wrist and the sound of metal hitting the floor was heard.
Caleb looked at Neeyla. Her cold eyes fixed on his.
- Neeyla...
- Don't ask for help, Caleb. You will get none.
- But I thought...
- Caleb... it was all a game. You were a test for us.
- You bitch! You used me!
- Look, Caleb... me and the Stranger, we have our own rules. There is no one else on Earth that can go by those. This is why it's just me and him. Three is a crows, as they say. Your mistake was that you fell in love with me. But on the other hand, you wouldn't have gotten so much on his nerves. You were useful. Thank you.
She made a fireball and slid it to the Stranger. He made it even bigger, putting all his hate for Caleb in it and threw it to him.
It swallowed Caleb. Neeyla and the Stranger looked at each other smiling and whispered "Burn it..."

21-22.04.2007
Replica

Inferno

Part three... I would prefer not to comment more on this one, so just read it...

~

Neeyla was standing on the small terrace of the old cathedral. The wind was blowing through her red hair and caressing her face. She was looking at the city under her and was trying to comprehend how something so beautiful could hurt her that much.
- Psst…
Neeyla turned around and looked into the small hallway leading to the other terrace. Again she turned her look towards the city.
- Pssst! Neeyla… why are we so sad?... Are we feeling hurt by their evil lies and all those empty words? We are thirsty for payback? What would we like to do with the town? Would we like… to make it dance… with the Animal?
- Who’s there? – she looked up to the top of the tower. She saw the Stranger smiling – Who are you?
He jumped, went through the grating as if it did not exist and stood before Neeyla. She looked at him smiling.
- You are not really alive. You’re just in my imagination, right?
- Hahaha, no, honey. I’m real – flesh and blood.
She held her hand out and touched him. When her fingers touched his skin, she felt them as if burning and took her hand back.
- Oh my god, you’re burning!
- Yes, honey, I’m burning. Do you wanna burn too?
- Cool! I’ve no idea who you are, but I like you.
- Look what else I can do…
He grabbed her and started running for the terrace. He jumped. Neeyla closed her eyes. Moment later she opened them and was on the ground.
- How…
- Don’t ask, honey! So do you wanna BURN too?
- Cool! I like fire.
The Stranger smiled and ran his fingers through the girl’s hair.
- Super! I like girls like you. What are you doing tonight?

***

Neeyla opened her eyes. She fell asleep again in the boring English Literature class. She looked at her watch – one hour till her meeting with her friends she didn’t have time for in weeks. She waited for the class to end and went out of the building as if something was chasing her.
An hour later her party was in their favourite place. Neeyla knew most of the people who went there, but tonight a big party of strangers was there. She searched her purse for cigarettes. She took out the lighter, put the cigarette in her mouth and lit it. Closing the lighter’s cap, she put it on the table. She looked over the people in the bar and saw the man from her dream. He noticed her staring at him and winked her. Neeyla stared at him for a little while and then continued looking around.
The whole night she didn’t dare to look for him, but she could feel his burning skin on her fingers… she felt his burning stare.

***


She was walking home slowly. She couldn’t stop thinking about the man from her dream. She was walking without noticing what’s happening around her, without thinking where she’s going. She didn’t notice the people she bumped into from time to time until she felt burning pain in her shoulder. She looked up and her bright green eyes met those of the Stranger. He smiled at her and offered to walk her home. Neeyla said yes. The whole way she didn’t stop looking at his face. He was a beautiful man. She wanted to have him… at least
Soon they reached Neeyla’s flat.
- So, I stop here. I hope to see you again tomorrow… Neeyla.
She looked shocked.
- How do you know my name?
- Come on, don’t you recognize me, honey?
- But how…
- I wanted to be there. I wanted to show you how beautiful the fire is – he leaned and kissed her. – To show what things it can do.
Neeyla smiled.
- Why do you think I don’t know it’s beauty?
- You wouldn’t let everyone to treat you like dirt. I can give you much more. I can give you power… power to control life. To determine its beginning and its end. You just need to wish it.

Neeyla really felt sick of everyone treating her like she was nothing. The man was speaking truth and she was beginning to like him more and more. She looked him in the eye. Took him by the hand and together they went into her apartment.

The next morning Neeyla woke up with blurred memories of last night. She remembered she left the bar and nothing more. She didn’t know how she came home, nor with who. She got up, got dressed and made coffee. Her phone was ringing. It was her friend. They spoke for ten minutes and Neeyla couldn’t stop hearing a quiet voice whispering in her head. The last few sentences of her friend got Neeyla mad and she started hearing it more and more clearly: “Burn it…”. The voice got stronger and stronger and soon Neeyla couldn’t concentrate on her own thoughts.
She threw the phone on the floor and flames started dancing in her eyes.
- Burn it, honey.

***

The same night her party was again in the bar. Neeyla was sitting looking in her glass.
- What’s up, baby?
Neeyla didn’t pay attention and answered absent minded.
- Nothing.
She continued looking in her glass. She could clearly see how flames started dancing in the middle of her spirit drink. It suddenly caught fire and the Stranger was standing before her.
- Hi, honey.
- Hi. – she smiled and moved with him to the next box without saying a word to her friends.
Later that night Neeyla went to buy cigarettes. When she came back one of her girl friends was waiting for her outside.
- You left us for a guy?
- I’m not in the mood, leave me alone.
Neyyla tried to go in, but the other girl pushed her back.
- We didn’t finish yet, so you’ll be staying here.
- You’re wrong.
Neeyla smiled and got the lighter out of her pocket. The flame was playing before her eyes.
- It’s beautiful, isn’t it?
- Neeyla, leave the lighter and pay attention to what I’m saying!
- Something as small as a match, in our case a lighter, can cause the destruction of a whole world. In our case – your world.
Flames were dancing in Neeyla’s eyes as she jumped on her friend. Minutes later she entered the bar, took her coat and her purse, leaned down and whispered into the Stranger’s ear:
- We have to go.
- Whatever you say… Wildfire.
She smiled and got out quickly.

***

Days later Neeyla was standing on the small terrace of the old cathedral. The night wind was blowing through her red hair and caressing her face. She was looking at the roaring flames under her and appreciated the beauty of fire. The Stranger emerged from the darkness behind her, embraced her and whispered in her year:
- The fire never dies.
He kissed her and they went down the cathedral stairs.

20.09.2006 - 17.12.2006
Replica

Farewell Wildfire

There you go, part two of the Wildfire stories. It was originally written in June 2006 with a different ending than the one you're going to read. Since it seemed that that ending was inappropriate, I decided to change it a month later. I can assure you that this ending is the better of the two. The first came too soon and it was too... how to put it... plain.
The rewritten ending sounds much more better and, fortunately turned out to be a good way to make the connection between this part and the next.
Enjoy...

~

The night wind blew Warren's hair. The stranger from a few days ago came closer behind him and placed his hands on Warren's shoulders.
- Good Warren. We had our payback. Fire devours everything.

Warren smiled and looked at the small bright-yellow dot in the distance - the last city that Warren burned. The last city that dared to oppose to Wildfire, as Warren liked to call himself. Just a look, just a gesture, just an innocent joke were enough to make flames dance in Warren's eyes. Then that quiet, softly whispering voice came in his head, the Stranger's voice - "Burn it..."
The next few hours were shrouded in mist for Warren. Wildfire would awake for his fiery feast. The fire raged around town swallowing the books from the city libraries, drinking the petrol and leaving death, chaos and destruction everywhere.

He was carelessly playing with his lighter while the Stranger was choosing the next destination. He had a map opened before him and he was looking at the countries carefully.
- Germany... no... then Holland... no, no... Austria... no. Damn it, I can't choose a country!
He threw the map aside with annoyance. Warren turned around and looked at him.
- Let me, damn it.

The Stranger took the map and gave it to Warren. He looked at it, smiled a few times. Then he lit his lighter. Right now it was Wildfire holding the map, not Warren. He put the flame under one of the map's corners and it caught fire. A wide smile came on both faces. Wildfire looked at the Stranger and shook his head.
- We don't need a map. We can go from town to town. Sooner or later we will burn everything. No one can escape Wildfire!
- Burn it...

Mist came all around Warren. The Stranger's figure seemed to disappear. The fire in Warren was slowly dying and Wildfire was disappearing.

- Warren! Warren!
His hands caught the edge of the desk. Then he felt someone's moist hand on his cheek. And on the other. He opened his eyes. Sitting on a chair, a desk and a man was leaning over it, looking at Warren with his big blue eyes.
- Warren... I want you to tell me who is Wildfire.
- Who?
- Wildfire. Don't play games with me. Who is he, damn you! - he hit the table and woke Wildfire again. Warren looked down. Then caught the table edge again. His head was up and flames were dancing in his eyes.
- I am Wildfire.
- No, you're Warren. Who is Wildfire?
He took out a cigarette, played a bit with it and started looking for the lighter in his pocket. Warren's eyes glimmered and a sinister smile came to his face.
- You know... something as small as the flutter of a butterfly's wing can cause a typhoon halfway around the world. This is the Chaos Theory. Through the eyes of a pyroman it sounds like this...
- Don't tell me the fucking Chaos Theory, damn you!
- ...something as small as the flame of a match can cause the destruction of a whole one world.
- Stop with your bullshit, you fucking psycho! Tell me who the hell is Wildfire!
- I told you - I AM WILDFIRE!
- Don't fuck with me! You're Warren!
He found the lighter and took it out. The flintstone clicked.
- This, my dear, was a mistake. The last you would ever make!

Wildfire jumped over the table and after a short fight with the man, the lighter was in his hands. He lit it. The flame was so hypnotizing. The man was lying helpless in his feet. Paper folders and papers were scattered over the table. Wildfire too them and threw them over the man. The next moment Wildfire was gone and Warren came back.
Stunned, he looked at the lighter in his hand then at the pile of paper and the man under it. Warren tried to throw the lighter, but something inside stopped him.
- Don't even think about it, Warren!
- Who...
- Oh, come on... don't play with fire... why do they say it? It's so much fun to play with fire...
- Burn it...

Warren grabbed his head.
- Get out of there! I don't know what or who you are, but get out!
He fell to his knees, still holding the lighter.
- I have to burn it! He cannot threaten Wildfire!
- No!
- Burn it, Warren... just click the flintstone and drop the lighter on the paper.
- NO!
- Burn it... make it dance... with the Animal... hahaha, would you? WOULD YOU?
- I won't burn it!
- Oh, yes, you will. Sooner or later everything burns.
It seemed to him something was pushing his hand closer and closer to the paper.
- That's right, burn it!
In the end, Warren surrendered. Wildfire lit the lighter and let dropped it on the paper. Then he heard the screams of the man. He spat.
- This is what you deserve! NOBODY talks like this to Wildfire!

He dusted his clothes and walked out of the room and down the hall. Left turn, then right. Straight ahead. He got out. By that time Wildfire was gone.
Warren realized what he did and looked at his hands.
- The hands of a killer! - tears turned the world before his eyes to colorful stains. - I have to save the world from me!
He ran to the nearest dark corner and sat there, with his back against the wall. He took out his knife and rolled his sleeves up and was just about to make the fatal cut when he heard the Stranger whispering.
- Why are we so sad, Warren?...Are we feeling hurt by their evil lies and all those empty words? We are thirsty for payback? What would we like to do with the town? Would we like to make it... dance... with the Animal? Would we? Would we?! Tell us, what would we like to do...

He looked around and saw the Stranger before him. The smile Warren saw the first time he stood in his way was on the Stranger's face again.Warren looked into his eyes. He saw two small flames dancing there and turned his stare away.
- No! Not this time! Wildfire is gone! You can't...
- Stop it, Warren! You can't get rid of Wildfire.
The Stranger took his hand out of the pocket and reached for the knife. Warren moved his hand away.
- Wildfire will die! Now! Here! I don't care if you want it or not!
- Oh, Warren... Wildfire is you. Are you really going to kill yourself?

Warren lashed his hand and the knife pierced the Stranger's heart.
- Yes, I will!
- The fire never dies, Warren. Someone else will take your place tomorrow. The fire is forever! - the Stranger's body caught fire and his words started to be unclear and indistinct. - Remember, Wildfire, tomorrow someone else will take your place! The fire never dies!...
Warren took the knife out of the body and made the fatal cut on his arms. He left himself bleed and with the last strength he could muster, he murmured.
- Farewell, Wildfire...

The Stranger was walking, wrapped in his coat. It was raining. Every time a raindrop touched his body, it would vaporize. He was walking on the alley to the headstone with the angel on it. He stopped and read it.

"Warren Adrien Gray 04.12.1979 - 29.07.2006"

The Stranger took out a black rose and laid it on the stone.
- The fire never dies, Warren... never!

18.06.2006
29.07.2006
Replica

Wildfire

Here it is, my first writing ever.
This is inspired by Sonata Arctica's song Wildfire and has a very special meaning for me, along with it's follow-ups that are going to show up here soon. Don't be too critical on me. :P

~

Do you feel?
Do you care about me?

He was walking on the sidewalk with his head down. He passed thousands of people just while he got to his job, and never saw a smile. He felt sad. He reached for his inner pocket and put the volume up. The tempo was quickening.

Do you feel?
Do you care about me?
Did you wait and love me all this time?

Did someone ever loved him? Was there someone still waiting for Warren to see his unopened letter and read it?... What was he thinking? There was no unopened letter! There were no letters at all. It was e-mails now... and Warren never left unopened e-mails. The next song begun.

Look what have I done to my San Sebastian...

His... was something ever his?

It was good I got to know her, because she made me see, that the sun of San Sebastian is just too hot for me!

Did he ever really knew someone? Did he ever passed through those annoying masks people put on just to hide their true self?

...I’m married to the Moon...

- Well, at least you're married to something. I don't even have this.
People looked at him and wondered who was he talking to. He felt their stairs on him and looked down to his shoes again. He walked counting the paving stones on the sidewalk. One, two, three...

I’m not that easy – blank file in their memory

...four, five, six...

I was born and raised by the sea – shy, yet proud

...seven, eight, a pair of feet, nine, ten, a pair of feet, eleven, twelve, thirteen and a par of feet just on it. He looked up to see who was standing before him. It was a man with a friendly smile in a good leather coat and pants and high boots. Warren smiled at him apatheticaly and stepped to the side to pass the man, but he did the same and was again in his way. Warren looked at him and grinned. The man smiled back, but this time the smile wasn't friendly - something demonic glistened in his eyes. Then, out of nothing, a red tail with a burning end swung behind the stranger and winded around Warren's feet.
- Hello Warren - a voice whispered. It was probably the stranger's, but his lips weren't moving. - It's me. They call it telepathy.

People were passing by as if no one noticed the creature and the man. Warren wasn't afraid, not at all. Like never before for a few seconds everything he ever dreamed of was his - he felt loved and could see people smile at him. Warmth poured into his soul.
Then everything was gone - the stranger vanished and Warren felt as empty as before. He blinked a few times and continued on his journey to work. Two blocks later he turned right, then left, then right again, crossed the street at the crossroad, bought a coffee from the small coffee shop and went into an old, but well-kept building. He greeted the doorman with a smile and all he got in return was one icy nod. He remembered his player was still on, so he turned it off before taking the stairs to the third floor.

A step, second, third, fourth, fifth...

- Waaaarren... why do you bother with those mortals?

Warren stopped. He looked up the stairs expecting it to be one of his colleagues jokes. What jokes? They couldn't even smile. He shrugged and kept going up. Sixth, seventh, eighth...
- Waaaarreeeen...
He smiled a demonic smile and continued up. He reached his office and went in slamming the door behind him saying he doesn't want to be disturbed. He opened the door of the small locker and looked at his reflection in the mirror. The stranger was smiling from there.
- Why are we so sad, Warren?... Are we feeling hurt by their evil lies and all those empty words? We are thirsty for payback? - Warren grinned and instinctively reached for his lighter. - What would be like to do with the town? Would we like... to make it dance... with the Animal? Would we? Would we?! Tell us, what would we like to do...
- Burn it! BURN IT!

Warrens shouted the last words and a fast melody played in his head. Three clear words followed: burn, honey, burn!

Warren went out of the room running. He went down the stairs almost magically, jumping two-three stairs at a time. The voice in his head wouldn't stop repeating "Burn! Burn!". Warren headed for the big library in the heart of the city. He was then going to visit the small ones too and throw the whole town into disarray. But this is what he wanted... and he was going to do it with every city... until the rules are the same for all.

Warren was standing on top of the highest building and was watching the burning city below him. He didn't feel guilty. This was his way of paying back for all he suffered through his twenty six years of life.

Burn, honey, burn...

13.05.2006
Replica

The Wanderer

I have walked the burning sands of the south. I have walked the snows of the north. I have been through a thousand of forests, followed by a wilderness with just the rocks as company. Air guides me, telling stories of endless journeys, of things I want to feel, to have. Earth is my eternal companion, my path, my bed, my mother and it will be my grave.
They call me The Wanderer. My name I had forgotten a long time ago. I know just that I seek the truth. I read between the lies of men and I try to put the pieces together.
They call me The Wanderer. My name I had forgotten a long time ago. I do not know if I would ever fit everything together. I do not know if I would complete it all or will I leave what I found to my brothers and sisters. I wonder if we, Wanderers, are not doomed to seek, but never find.

Songs the trees sing give me strength to go on, to cross the sea to reach the divine frontiers. My feet are numb, the burning sun is blinding me, but, hear, I will not give up now. I will not abandon my path. I can still restore my strength and go to the ends of the world.

I am touching the lightning on my neck. I look up, to the sky, to Ukko.
"And when the path ahead looks narrow, let me find my way through it, like a stream searches for it's bed. And when a wall stands before me, let it crumble right away."

They call me The Wanderer.

01.09.2008
Replica

Carnival of Rust

Jack woke up from the sound of raindrops on the bus window. He blinked to the light of the headlights of the car driving opposite and looked at the wet asphalt, then the naked field. Somewhere behind he heard the thunder of a storm. The band’s bus and the storm were racing with each other for a few hours, but at the last moment, just before the storm caught the bus, it managed to slip away.
He had no idea where around the world they were. He just knew they were away from his hometown and in a little less than 12 hours he was going to make hundred of fans happy with his voice.

Jack liked music. He would put everything he had in it, even his most private emotions. But for some time things were not going well. He slept very little and every time he tried to write, nothing good came. His thoughts were overwhelmed by a beautiful strange girl that came to him at night, in dreams. He didn’t know who she was or where she was… he had never seen her live. He pressed his forehead to the cold glass and closed his eyes. The rain was soothing. He saw her again, in her nightgown dancing in the rain and smiling at him… the headlights of the cars hid her for a moment and when she showed up again everything was different.
It was a dream, but everything was real. Jack felt her skin touching his, he smelled the scent of her fiery red hair, he saw her sparkling green eyes. He gave to his dream wholly, though he wanted to sleep without dreaming.

- Are we ready?
- You bet!
He smiled. He could hear the fans screaming their names in the hope they would see their idols sooner. He put his thoughts together, put them as far away from her as he could.
- Let’s go then.

The lights were blinding. Jack could barely see the audience. He didn’t like it when he didn’t have contact with them, the magic was gone… he knelt in the middle of the stage in hope that he would escape the lights at least a bit and dive into the darkness, see his fans. And his stare fell on her. The girl from his dreams. She smiled warmly, he smiled back and for a second it seemed to him she blew him a kiss. Jack stood up and she was hidden again.
The band was in the country for the first time, despite most of their fans were from there. They had a surprise for the audience.

- And now it’s time for something we decided to do as a tradition when we go to a country for the first time. Two of you, lucky guys, will be selected to spend tomorrow with us and show us around… - his words were lost in the screaming crowd. – I will come down to you and pick two people. The rest, I’ll meet you after the gig for autographs.

He put the mic on the stand and climbed down in the small space between the stage and the fences. He walked end to end, shook hands with fans, even signed a few CDs. And he was smiling, but not because of the attention he got, but because of her. Because he knew she was there and he was going to spend tomorrow with her.

Someone gave him a paper. He looked who and saw the green eyes from his dreams. Smiled and leaned to her. He hugged her almost unconsciously. He felt her hands on his back and her chest pressed to his. He whispered in her year “You’re the first.”, kissed her lightly on the cheek and walked away. He chose another girl, that started crying when he hugged her and didn’t stop until the end of the gig.

The rest of the gig passed for what seemed a moment. Jack didn’t remember the interview, or the countless pictures he took with fans, or the signed CDs and shirts, or even the little blond girl that told him she loved him. He remembered just her. Her eyes. Her smile. Her hands.

- Jack, they’re waiting for you.
- Coming, just a minute.
He signed a few more CDs, took a picture with two girls and then turned and walked back to the room, to her. The hall, at the end of which was the door, seemed endless. Time stopped, as if it wanted to torture him. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Smelled her perfume. Opened his eyes. A step, just a step. He heard her laugh. An angelic laughter. Naïve like a child. Pure. Her laughter.

Jack went in the small room where the rest of the band, their manager and photographer were along with the two girls. He smiled at them and sat down.
- So you’re the lucky ones. We just need to settle some things about...
The words got lost. The room sank in darkness. There was just darkness and her body. Him and her. Darkness. A smile. He reached his hand out. She did too. They almost touched. Another smile. Just a little more…
- Jack!
He shook his head.
- Sorry, I’m tired from the trip and the gig. The audience was amazing. – he winked at the two girls and they giggled happily. – So, you’re going to show us around tomorrow. You have whole day. I’m Jack, by the way.
Everybody laughed. That laughter again. Naïve, pure, angelic.
- I’m Jesse. – she held her hand out to him. – Nice meeting you.
- I… I… I’m… uhm…
- Hey, we don’t bite, don’t worry. – the guitarist said and every one laughed again.
- I’m just nervous. I’m Lily. Nice to finally meet you guys.
Jack shook her hand, but his eyes were blind to everything except her. Her magical eyes. Sparkling. The black lining made them look even more amazing. Her lips curved in a warm smile.
The manager explained Jesse and Lily the schedule for tomorrow, told them what time they have to leave to be on time for the next gig, gave them the passes they needed, wished them good night and walked them to the door. He closed it behind them and turned to the band.
- Jack, what’s wrong with you? You don’t seem to be yourself tonight.
- Mhm.
- Do you hear me?
- Mhm.
- And can you say something different than “mhm.”?
- See you at the hotel. – he jumped off his chair, took his jacket and went out of the room.

Jesse went out of the club, arranged what time to meet with Lily tomorrow morning, said goodbye and walked her with a stare. Winter, Jesse was with a top, her jacket hanging on her purse. She took the pass out of it. Read it again.
The band name, the date, the time, the place.
The band name, the date, the time, the place.
It seemed unreal. She dreamt of meeting them for years
The band name, the date, the time, the place.
- I would say it’s better to put it away before some crazy fan beats you to get it.
She looked to the door. Jack was standing there with that smile she loved and which she dreamt of seeing live. She smiled.
- No way.
- You haven’t met a crazy fan, have you? Believe me, after what happened tonight you are being hated globally.
They both laughed.
- I guess not everyone can have what they want.
- Tell it to them… - he looked at her face and sank in her eyes.
Jesse was looking Jack in the eyes. The deep blue eyes. The eyes she dreamt of not once. The eyes that watched her last night, just before the rain started tapping on her window.
- Why are you here?
- I guess… I wanted to talk with you.
- Why didn’t you do it when we were inside?
- Overcrowded. Are you going home?
- In fact, I am… unless you plan on inviting me on a romantic candle lit dinner and then take me to your hotel room and make wild love to me… - she took a few steps toward him. – That’s how rock stars do it. – then she laughed. He laughed too. – Okay, maybe they miss the romantic part, but the idea is the same.
- Can I walk you to somewhere?
She shrugged.
- You can walk me to the apartment door, if you like – she smiled. – Shall we go?
Jack nodded and they went.

- Where are you going to take me tomorrow?
- I take it you mean where are WE going to take YOU tomorrow… we were thinking to take you…
- I meant where are you going to take me. You and me.
Jesse looked at him. He smiled.
- I thought it was US taking YOU around town.
- At least a coffee before we go. Please. I’m buying. – that smile, the one Jesse loved, was on his face.
- Coffee. 7 am.
- My room?
She stopped and looked at him suspiciously.
- Should I buy or do you have some in your room?
- I was thinking we would just talk, but if you want we can skip the first few dates and head to the physical part.
She laughed.
- I think I liked the coffee and talk plan more. This is where I live. – Jesse stopped in front of the door. – Thanks for walking me.
- For nothing. So tomorrow I wait for you at 7 with coffee?
- Make it a cappuccino.
- You have it. – Jesse smiled. He smiled back.
- I’ll call you a cab to the hotel. It’s late you need to get some sleep. – she took her mobile out and dialed a number. She called a cab in front of her building, thanked and hung up. – Cab will be here in 5 minutes. You want me to come wait with you?
- No, thank you. You did enough tonight.
He hugged her for goodbye. Felt her breathe on his neck. Felt her cold skin pressed to his. Felt her lips gently touching the corner of his. Felt her slipping away from his embrace.
- So tomorrow at 7. And don’t forget, cappuccino, not coffee.
- Cappuccino, not coffee. Sure. 7.
- That’s right. Good night.
- Good night.
He walked down the stairs and heard the lock clicking twice, then the door opened, closed and the lock clicked twice more.

Jesse stood to the window. She saw him get in the cab. She wanted to run downstairs, to run after the cab. To ask him home to warm up. To taste the corner of his lips, the lips. 7 am. The hotel room. A talk.
She poured herself a glass of vodka and drank it. She went for a quick shower and fell asleep right after on the couch. Woke up an hour later. Still 3. She sighed and tried to fall asleep again. The yes. The corner. What taste did his lips have? The smile. The eyes. The corner. The eyes. The smile. The lips. The eyes. The corner. The eyes…

Jack went into his room. Her eyes, her smile, her lips slightly touching his. He lay on the bed and imagined what he would say to her tomorrow. He soon fell asleep.

6:00. Two alarm clocks rang in two sides of town.
He opened his eyes.
She opened her eyes.
He got up an looked at his reflection.
She went in the batch room.
He went out of the room.
She put her shirt on.
He came back with coffee and cappuccino.
She locked the door from the outside and walked down the stairs.
He went in the bathroom.
She got in the cab.
He was dressing
She showed her pass to the girl on the desk.
He was sitting on the bed.
She was walking down the hallway.

617, 619, 621. She knocked. He looked to the door. Took a deep breath and opened. Jesse met him with a smile.
- Good morning! I hope you got what I wanted. – she entered the room, put her bag on the bed and took the cappuccino cup. – You’re amazing.
Jack smiled and took his cup.
She turned to him and hugged him. Felt his lips seeking hers. She pulled back a little. The eyes. The corner. What will they taste like? Smile. The eyes – the lips – the eyes – the lips. What taste? He leaned slightly and touched her lips with his own.

Jack locked his room and walked towards Jesse. They took the lift. They didn’t look at each other. She turned to the small mirror in the lift. He saw tears in the reflection.

Lily was walking next to Jack, in front, and was talking passionately. Jesse was behind them, walking slowly, hidden everything behind the black sunglasses.
- I’ve never seen him like this. – the guitarist said. – I’ve known him for years and I’ve never seen him like this. Obsessed. In love. Why?
- Because I can’t leave my life for him, no matter how much I want it. He’s a rock star, he travels, meets so many people, I won’t be able to bare the thought that someone else is holding him.
- And you’re going to kill him for that?
- Everything fades sooner or later.
She smiled a bitter smile and walked to Jack and Lily. He looked at Jesse and she smiled. A fake smile. She couldn’t smile a real one. Fake or none at all. She didn’t want to show him her tears. She didn’t know he already saw them. Her hand hit his lightly and her little finger caught his. She smiled again. Almost a real smile.

Lily took a picture with the band. Then asked for autographs. Hugs. The last. Goodbye. Jesse hugged everyone. She followed them with a stare while they got on the bus. Jack was the only one still standing there.
- Go. I don’t want to keep you.
He took her by the chin and lifted her face. Two damp black cuts ran through it. He smiled. A fake smile. He couldn’t smile a real one. Fake or none at all. He swallowed his own tears and hugged her.
Her body started shaking in his arms. She backed and took her glasses off. She was crying. She couldn’t hide the tears. He smiled. Almost a real smile. Swallowed again. And again. And again. Tears came to his eyes.

Two stares, the sparkling green and the deep blue, met. She stood on her toes and kissed him. Her lips touched his, at first gently, slightly felt, then as if two lovers were saying goodbye.

He went on the bus.
She put her glasses on.
He swallowed.
She swallowed.
He smiled. A real smile.
She put her fingers to her lips and blew a kiss.
He did the same.
She smiled. A real smile.

“…but when you’re reading this letter I would probably be in a different place, somewhere around the world. Know that I always keep with me the memory of two beautiful green eyes, forever in me.

P.S.: I love you.

Jack”

Jesse smiled. His eyes. His smile. The corner of his lips. Their taste…

15.04.2008 - 28.08.2008
Replica

Warrior Soul

Winterheart Guild had gathered. In fact, a guild was a hard thing to say - four people, believed to control seasons. Most people considered Autumn, Winter, Summer and Spring for a myth, for they were looking as anyone else.
Autumn was an old man in a long, blue robe. His beard and hair were waist-long. He always had a staff which most people thought for a stick to keep wolves away. In fact it was quite the opposite - with it, he always had two wolves following him. Guarding him, as if guarding a brother.
Winter was a beautiful woman in a light gray dress and long brown hair. She never spoke much and when she needed to say something, she said it more with her piercing blue stair than with words.
Spring was the most beautiful of all. A young woman, not more than thirty, wearing fairy dresses in gentle pink, white or blue shades. She had wonderful wings, butterfly-like, but visible just for the guilt.
Summer, dressed in bright yellow clothes, was radiating the might of fire. Long black hair was cascading down his shoulders almost ti the middle of his thigh.
It was time. The four felt that soon something important is going to happen. Something that would have a say on the events in the next few ages. Winter started first.

- They say the prophecy is true. More and more signs say that it will happen soon.
- Which of the many prophecies, Winter? - asked Spring, while fixing her dress.
Winter eyed her with her cold eyes. She turned away from the fire, back to every one and said quietly:
- "Somewhere within the darkest moors, between black cliffs like the Devil's teeth a child will be born, with a warrior heart. Son of the stars, of ice and flame, he will walk the earth. With pride in his step and an iron will and a mind sharp as a Demon blade."
- And we should worry about that because? - Summer said, while playing with a tiny ball sun rays.
Winter turned her stare to him.
- You know that in this land even the ice winds can lead to madness. It is important that he finds something to fight for that will keep him on the side of the Light.
She closed her mouth and sat on the ground, among the fallen leaves. Autumn stood up and started walking slowly around the fire.
- There is more of the prophecy. Winter didn't say it, probably never even heard it. Prophecies are always divided and given to different creatures. It would be harder to have the whole prophecy and use it for your well-being. "Deep within the shadows of the woods, among the beasts that dwell in the darkness, a child will be born - daughter of the Night and the rising moon. She will run like the wind and in her heart - the secret powers of her elders." She is the key to keep the boy. We have to make them meet.
- They are still not born - Spring noted.
- Not yet. But they will be soon. Winter, look after the boy. Spring, you take the girl. I and Summer are going to make sure we make the two warriors meet... no matter what the cost.

***

A woman, not more than twenty was standing on the edge of the cliffs. She was looking up to the stars, admiring the Northern Lights. She stroke her belly.
- Soon, my son, you will see the light of day. And then, Ilija, everyone will honor you.

***

Ilija was walking proudly in the village. Handsome young man, he was famous for his sharp mind. Women of every age and status thought him to be the most handsome man there ever was. Ilija was barely twenty, but did things about which even mighty warriors that came through the land never dreamed of. His will was tested many times and had never failed him. For twenty years Spring was looking over him, saving his life not once or twice, but doing it only when he was really in need. Most of the times he dealt with trouble himself.
He barely ever spoke. Sitting in the house's garden, sharpening his blade and practicing seemed much more appealing to him. Ilija wanted to master the sword perfectly, to feel it as a part of himself, from his arm and not like a weapon or a burden.

***

She was running in the forest. Only light came from the Northern Lights were. Running from the beasts. Her face was scratched. The child had to survive. She found a small cave and stopped there.
Years later Luna was running in the forest. Her clothes were scant, but not this, nor the cold was stopping her. She had to overtake the hind and kill it if she wanted food tonight. Luna mastered the blade perfectly, feeling it as part of herself. She was eighteen, but as a fighter she was no match for anybody. She had a warrior soul and her heart was caring the wisdom of her elders, though she didn't knew even her mother. Winter was pacing slowly after her, watching with her piercing eyes.

***

- It's done, Autumn. Just as you wanted it.
- Good. Now all that is left is to meet with one another, Winter.

***

News of a forthcoming war reached the small village quickly. Ilija was sharpening his blade. He was going to go to war. And win it. Because he had a warrior soul.
Luna was preparing for war as well. She had decided that even alone, she was going to win this war.

The guild was watching their lives. They knew that just now was the best time for the two to meet. Winter smiled at herself - Luna had turned into a stunningly beautiful, smart and quick-witted woman, which was fighting for her life all the time and was ready to have hers at whatever price. Winter knew the only thing missing in Luna's life were friends. Every one of Winterheart thought Ilija was going to become her friend. The two of them - the Son of the Stars and the Daughter of the Night, as they called them - were the ones to set the course of events from now on. They were going to face each other and after realizing they both had a warrior soul, they were going to become friends.

***

Ilija was fighting tireless. Months had rolled since he went to war. Thousands of people were killed or mortally wounded. Hundreds known faces were looking at him with their empty dim stare after every fight. People he was fighting with side by side minutes ago. Every night he thanked Ukko for sparing his life and every morning he started with a pray to him. He believed that the North Star was going to keep him and lead him home.

Luna was one of the few women that went to war and men often laughed for her expense that she couldn't even lift the sword. Mocks were quickly ended after her blade ended set on someone's neck seconds later. The only thing that stopped Luna from killing them was that people were few, they could not endure the cold and most of them were untrained.

***

Flat white field. Luna took a good look at it. She say the army on the other end - big men, some on horses with swords and clubs. She looked at the people behind her - most were farmer boys, with scared stares, that could barely lift the sword. She sighed thinking it was going to be a hard battle. She faced her people and tried to lift their spirits.

A few hours later the field was red with the spilled blood. Bodies all over. Luna's hair was stuck on her back and forehead. She was still fighting. Surrounded by four men, each of them at least twice her size. Ilija was watching with interest a few yards from them. He couldn't believe that there was someone on this earth that mastered the sword even as half as good as he did, and Luna was doing it more than perfectly - every step perfectly measured, every move accurate. Ilija was amazed. Two men were already on the ground breathless. Ilija smiled. He had to try her out himself. She seemed not much older than him, but her skills were astounding. Luna twisted her blade and it went in the third's heart. The fourth attacked her, but she was quicker, pulling her sword out of the dead man and piercing his belly. He fell on the snow. His surprised stare at her.

Luna smiled and threw aside a lock of hair from her eyes and sighed victoriously. Ilija looked at the blade in his hand. Looking at Luna, he decided the time was right to test her.
- So... you think you can kill four of my best men just like that and walk away? - he sounded annoyed - Prepare to pay for it, bitch!
Luna turned around and looked Ilija.
- And you obviously think you can call me a bitch and walk away. Son of a bitch!
She jumped towards him. Their swords dancing a deathly dance. They were attacking fiercly and sparks set off the squeaking blades. Ilija drove her attacks away with ease and even let himself smile ironically while warding off an attack that would have taken his head off.
- Is that all you can? - he smiled and a moment later a narrow red cut appeared on his cheek. Just then, he realized that the battle was going to be even. She was really good with the blade, he should be more careful with her. He had underestimated her...
Luna was not waiting time paying attention to his lines. She had learned long ago that the battle was not a competition and she was trying to kill him before he killed her. He was a serious opponent, warding off every attack, even foreseeing her next step. She was doing the same, but it didn't lead her to the so wanted victory. If the battle was prolonged, they were going to get tired, and a tired warrior made mistakes easily while trying to end it faster.
- So you're trying to kill me? - she said while warding off his attack.
- Not exactly. But your skills got my attention. I didn't believe that...
He looked at his arm - a new cut appeared, a little above his wrist. He looked at Luna and she smiled at him.
- That someone mastered the sword better than you?
- Exactly. - he stood up and attacked again.
- Obviously there is. - she hit his hand with the blade and he dropped his. Her sword was set on his throat. - Now do you believe it?
- No.
He took her by the leg and pulled her down. Luna fell, but the sword was still in her hand. For a second Ilija bent and had his. Luna hit his leg with the handle of her sword. Ilija fell to his knees. His blade millimetres away from her throat, her blade - millimetres away from his.
- Who will win?
- Warrior soul.
- What?
- You have a warrior soul. Few are the people who have one, even fewer are the women with one.
- I was born under the Northern Lights and all my life I have hardened my soul and will...
- ...to be the best. I did the same. I never believed there was someone that could fight half as good as I can.
- Neither did I.

Ilija smiled and took his sword down. Luna did the same, but she was still ready to ward off an attack from him.
- Maybe we met for a reason.
- The North Star tells us the war is not right.
- So with ending our fight we end the war?
- This one, yes. But there are a thousand more we have to fight. We have warrior souls and in this dark we must find our own way. And though we know that the winding path will lead us to the grave, we will go on. We still have battles left to fight. We must keep our pride until the end of our time.
He looked her head to toe.
- So we are going to look for that path from now on?
Luna nodded. She got up and held out her hand to him.
- Luna
- Ilija. - he took her hand and stood up as well. She was barely reaching his shoulder in height and he wondered how could she master the sword.

***

Autumn was watching the two warriors.
- Warrior soul blazes through the land of frost and snow. Their pagan hearts and flesh built to endure the cold. With a warrior soul unto death against all foes they will fight. They are born under the Northern Lights...

14.03.2007 - 20.03.2007
Replica & Rand