Dawn

It was late.

Night had already fallen over the ramparts of Blood Pledge Castle. Wolfram felt drained. That afternoon Yuri, his wimp, had left him. Not like he usually did without saying goodbye as he was sucked into that other world, that Earth. No. This time he had left him for good.
He’d looked back over his shoulder and met his eyes. It had taken every fiber of his being to let Yuri walk away from him. He had done well too, until the very end as he could see his wimp disappearing he couldn’t hold back that final damnable cry.

Wolfram flinched.

He thought he’d felt empty before but now thinking of that final pathetic cry he’d let out he flinched. He hadn’t wanted to let it out. It did nothing but embarrass him now. But what was one more embarrassment on top of everything else. He asked himself. He could hear his own voice inside his head yelling at him.

“You didn’t ask to become engaged to that wimp. You never asked for him to save your world with his sympathy. You never”-he could hear himself break off again in his mind. Yuri hadn’t just saved his world, he’d saved him too. That’s what hurt.

That’s why he felt empty now. Hollow. After that last cry, where he’d felt as if his heart- his soul was being torn apart he’d looked up and caught the looks his brothers were giving him. The looks that even Gunter and his mother were giving him. And then he’d stopped. It had felt like a switch had been flipped inside of himself. He’d cut off his cry, he’d straightened and turned away. He had been the first to leave, not the last. Never the last he told himself as his feet carried him away. He was Wolfram Von Bleifield, and he was not going to be the last anymore.
That’s all he thought as his feet carried him to the stables. He’d saddled his horse and turned to leave the castle, as he did he saw his family and Gunter and Annissa standing near the steps watching him.

He lifted an imperious brow and stated baldly, “I’m going out I won’t be followed. Please see that Greta eats dinner tonight, tell her I’ll be back when she wakes.”

With that he mounted his horse and started to ride for the gate, when his personal guard tried to fall into place behind him, he’d stopped to snarl over his shoulder, “I said I would not be followed.” His emerald glare had spoken louder than the quiet voice he’d used.

He’d taken his horse out of the gates of the castle and city at a quick pace but as soon as he’d left the final gates surrounding the city he’d let his horse run as fast and as far as he could. With every hoof beat behind them he’d felt another crack in his heart until he couldn’t hear his horse over the breaking of his soul. As they’d reached the edge of the forest Wolfram looked up and cleared his mind long enough to lead his horse deeper into the woods towards the hill he knew looked out over the valley.

When they reached it he calmly unsaddled his horse and left him to wander and cool down. He walked in a daze towards the edge of the hill top where it fell away towards the valley below. He stood there for a moment feeling the heat of the sun on his face, the cool kiss of the breeze as it ruffled his hair. He could hear the birds unseen chirping and singing behind him in the trees. For a moment every thing was silent inside his head, blank, empty. He could see everything before him: all the colors, the textures; and hear everything behind him: the leaves dancing, the animals as they moved about their day, he even thought he could hear the sap as it moved through the trees around him. He was nothing but an observer here in this moment but nothing-nothing really.

With that all the thoughts that had been silent came forward: all the fears, the pain, the empty sinking loneliness came and swept him up at one time. He didn’t feel his legs crumble underneath him, all he felt was the rushing slide as he sank down, down into the ground as it rose to meet his knees and hands. He was drowning. He knew it, he could feel it happening but was helpless to stop it. He tried to draw breath but felt the air turn hot and jagged as he pulled it in over a throat that was suddenly too tight to breathe. He felt his lungs suddenly expand with the sharp bite or air and then, then all he could do was weep. He was here alone and every second of calm and silence since he’d left them standing where Yuri had disappeared suddenly demanded payment with tears, and anguish, and wracking cries of pain.

They tore trough him, they were him and he was nothing-nothing but the agony of his own emotions and they choked him. Wolfram wept until he had no tears left and then as they dried on his face and hands and clothing he wept still. Long wracking keens and little hiccups of panic and terror and finally when his demons’ strength finally ran out he lay, slumped on the grass his eyes glassy and glazed as they stared unseeing at the valley before him.

He could feel his blood pump through his head, a mighty clang of life that was painful. He heard a steady gravelly sound, a give and pull that never got any louder or closer, it took him minutes before he dimly understood that it was his own breath through a throat and mouth cried raw. As he became more aware of the sounds he could hear, he also became aware of the darkness around him, the night drawing close, the coolness of the grass underneath him.

He raised himself to a sitting position looking out over the valley. He could see the lights far away in Blood Pledge Castle and the twinkle of lights in the city below. People, he thought, people still live. They don’t know yet that my world has ended.

“Or they don’t care.” A small voice whispered inside his head. It was then that Wolfram realized that he felt numb. Wrung out and tired and empty, blissfully empty. He welcomed it. He didn’t know how long he had been here on this hill. How long he had wept for a dream that had ended a hope that had died. At this moment of empty clarity Wolfram thought he could finally see himself clearly. Not as his family did or Yuri had or even the people of the castle. Alone here on this hill he had been able to mourn a dream, a very precious dream that a part of him hadn’t trusted to fully even realize. And that’s why he had only been able to do that here, alone.

He smiled wryly, “Alone, ah Shino is it always to be that I’m alone?” he asked himself. “But no.” He thought, “That’s not true, I have Greta. I’m her only father now. She too has lost someone important to her. Now I will be important to her as well. I will finally be important to someone, the first in their thoughts.” Wolfram’s eyes furrowed in a flash of anger, “And I am tired of being last. I was my mothers’ last son, the last heir, the last one anyone thought mature enough to handle war, the last one anyone thought fit to stand beside Yuri, the last friend Yuri would even admit he had, and even too, the last father Greta would have chosen.”

Wolfram looked out again at the twinkling lights of the valley and took a deep steadying breath. He could feel the panic rising again in his body, his fears and hurt rising again like demons in his mind. He felt the tears begin again and let himself fall back to the ground. In a way not fighting his sorrow this time felt better, felt good, here he could give in and cry and admit that he was hurt and confused and he could yell out his frustrations without being censored by his brothers or indulged by his mother or condemned by his people or by his friend Yuri. Here he could act like the child everyone accused him of being without fear or constriction. And for the moment that felt good, freeing.

As soon as he thought this, it seemed like time stood still. His cries and sobs were suddenly gone, his tears dried up again but this time he didn’t feel wrung out he felt, free. He felt empty still but almost resigned and okay inside, not shaky. He rose again and looked around him at the forest. He could see his forgotten horse standing near a tree nibbling the sweet grass near the base. He felt the cool breeze touch his cheeks and realized finally that he was cool, cold almost. He knew he had arrived here on the hill in the afternoon but for a moment he didn’t know if it was this afternoon or another.

He felt as though he had been here years, months, hours, days, minutes; it all seemed hazy. Like peering through a looking glass coated in oil, you can see everything; colors, shapes, ideas, but the edges of everything are blurry like half forgotten rainbows on your eyes.

He thought he saw the barest edge of color touch the other side of the valley and watched as dawn broke gently over the trees. He watched the dark of night surrender softly to the darkest of purples and fade gently into the bright pinks and oranges and yellows of day. As he saw the sun break over the horizon his eyes felt burnt from the bright light, and his soul felt clean. As though someone had reached in with that bright light and swept the stains and cobwebs from his soul and mind. He felt nothing but beauty as he watched the world come alive slowly in the early dawn of the day.

“I need to get back to the castle,” he thought, “I need to be there when Greta wakes. I need to be the first person she sees when this day starts. It has to be a new day for both of us.” Resigned to his decision he got up from the ground that had held him and cradled him through his night of mourning and walked to his horse. He looked around and saw the blanket and saddle he’d removed yesterday. He picked them up and saddled his horse and then leaned close as if gathering strength from the only one who’d watched over him during his long night as if to say, ‘Thank You.’ With a deep breath and a firm chin Wolfram leapt back into the saddle of his horse and turned around to face the path that would take him back down through the forest towards Blood Pledge Castle, his former home.