La Nocturne
Two.
Joseph Sinclair felt a tap on his shoulder and turned around. A girl in a deep blue dress and a butterfly mask smiled and asked for a dance. Although he had to admire her pluck - young men were supposed to offer dances to young women, not the other way around - he politely declined. He had danced enough for one night. Hopefully enough to satisfy his parents, who wouldn't keep quiet about this whole marriage business.
Joseph sighed. He didn't think he could ever marry. Not when the one girl he had ever truly loved had been torn away from him so licentiously. Death had been Aria's suitor, sweeping her off her feet suddenly and slyly, and no young man could compete with Him once He made up His mind.
He had first met her at a party. Even though the room had been full of charming, beautiful young ladies, there was still something about her that stood out to him. The way she brushed a stray lock of hair out of her eyes. The way the light shone off her. The way she seemed so in love with life, and so lovely. Joseph had ended up asking her for a dance on instinct. That was the moment his heart was sold. Not only was she physically captivating, she was interesting to talk to. Their conversation flowed and shimmered in the breathless night. By the time the party was over, Joseph was fully in love with Aria. She was dreamy and intellectual; she thought for herself and laughed shamelessly. And, oh God, when she sang...The only problem was, she had told him she never planned to marry.
Joseph despaired over this, until he noticed the way Aria looked at him was changing. Her gaze was softer, brighter, it lingered longer. He was sure she was falling in love with him as well. Right at that time, Aria's family went vacationing at their summer home on the coast. Joseph planned to ask for her hand as soon as they came back. But he ended up attending a funeral instead of a wedding. All through the service, and then the burial, he was utterly disbelieving. It was all a fantastic joke, he was sure - at any minute Aria would leap out of her coffin and laugh her ringing laugh and ask him if he really believed she was dead. And then she would leap into his arms and kiss him. But none of that ever happened. They put her in the ground, and tossed dirt over her, and erected a large flat rock on top of her. And that was when he finally realized. She was gone. Forever. Never again would he hear her laugh or sing. Never would he be able to kiss her under the moon, to run his hands down her skin, to father her children.
Feeling the familiar heaviness pervading his limbs, Joseph stepped into a side garden and sat wearily down on one of its stone benches. The heaviness did not want to leave him; the weight of loneliness, of futility, of the feeling that perhaps we had no more control over our lives than the crew of a mere rowboat at the mercy of the open sea. This weight pulled at every part of him - he felt tired and heavy-headed no matter how much he slept, his thoughts were all so slow and sad, and the simple act of breathing often seemed an odd, trying task.
At the far end of the garden, Joseph suddenly spotted a young woman lying on the ground. Rushing to her side, he saw that she was wearing a silver-green dress and a green-and-yellow feathered mask. She appeared to have fainted. Joseph put an arm behind her neck, another under her knees, and carried her gently to one of the benches. He took off his waistcoat, folded it, and put it beneath the girl's head. He would have taken her inside, but there was less likely a chance of finding somewhere quiet inside the house.
The girl stirred and mumbled something under her breath. Joseph thought he recognized her voice. "Elaine?" he said softly. "Elaine Fellerton?" Elaine was Aria's younger sister. He had met her on several occasions, a bookish, serious girl that shied away from the spotlight. Sometimes it had been hard to believe they were sisters.
The girl opened her eyes - they were a deep, rich brown with small flecks of greenish-gold in them. Aria's eyes.
"Aria," Elaine gasped. "She's here! Aria is here! I found her mask - look!" She held up a wine-red cat mask. "She must be here. We have to find her, Joseph. We need to find her...before she leaves."
The poor girl had probably fallen ill, Joseph reasoned. He said calmly, "Elaine, Aria isn't here anymore. She won't be coming back. Do you remember?"
Realization slowly filled Elaine's eyes. "Oh, yes," she said frailly. All of a sudden she felt like sobbing. No, her mind instructed her. Mustn't cry. She sighed, then looked at the mask she clutched in her hand. "For a moment, I really did think...but no. It is still so hard to believe, though."
"I know," Joseph said, and Elaine looked at him and saw that he really did know; he knew exactly how it felt.
"Well," she said, gathering herself. "I suppose I'll go back inside. I never did like parties terribly." On a hunch she added, "You may join me, in the library, if you wish."
"Thank you. I think I will. I'm rather sick of dancing."
Ever since she was small, Elaine's favorite place in the house had been the library. She loved being able to open a book and have the words paint a world for her to escape into, magical gardens, wonderful, scented forests, shining seas, and more. The library her family had was spacious and grand, with bookshelves so tall you had to stand on a ladder to reach the upper shelves. Cool tile lined the floors, with warm, heavy rugs laid down at regular intervals beside the shelves and in front of the fireplace. As Elaine and Joseph entered the library, they saw that a fire was already crackling in the fireplace. Even though it was still summer, it got chillier in the evenings.
In front of the fireplace were several well-worn armchairs and a long, low table. Elaine rifled through a spread of books that had been laid down on the table, encouraging Joseph to browse the shelves. For a moment, she realized that she was by herself with an unfamiliar boy. She didn't dwell on it, however. She knew, she just felt, that she could trust him. They were both just imperfect, grieving humans stumbling through their lives, and while it hurt, it was a safe thing to be.
Elaine flipped absentmindedly through a collection of local myths and legends until a certain entry caught her eye. The Lady of Elsinore Hill, she read, skimming the page, was the wife of one of the great kings of England, though it has been widely disputed which one... Her father was a knight and her mother, it is said, was one of the Fey. When the Lady discovered her husband one day in bed with his chambermaid, she killed them both immediately and fled. She roamed the countryside for a while before coming to settle beneath Elsinore Hill, just outside the village of Elsinore. There she has lived for centuries on end... She has a reputation for practicing necromancy, bringing the dead back exactly how they were when they were alive, with no adverse effects...
Joseph sighed. He didn't think he could ever marry. Not when the one girl he had ever truly loved had been torn away from him so licentiously. Death had been Aria's suitor, sweeping her off her feet suddenly and slyly, and no young man could compete with Him once He made up His mind.
He had first met her at a party. Even though the room had been full of charming, beautiful young ladies, there was still something about her that stood out to him. The way she brushed a stray lock of hair out of her eyes. The way the light shone off her. The way she seemed so in love with life, and so lovely. Joseph had ended up asking her for a dance on instinct. That was the moment his heart was sold. Not only was she physically captivating, she was interesting to talk to. Their conversation flowed and shimmered in the breathless night. By the time the party was over, Joseph was fully in love with Aria. She was dreamy and intellectual; she thought for herself and laughed shamelessly. And, oh God, when she sang...The only problem was, she had told him she never planned to marry.
Joseph despaired over this, until he noticed the way Aria looked at him was changing. Her gaze was softer, brighter, it lingered longer. He was sure she was falling in love with him as well. Right at that time, Aria's family went vacationing at their summer home on the coast. Joseph planned to ask for her hand as soon as they came back. But he ended up attending a funeral instead of a wedding. All through the service, and then the burial, he was utterly disbelieving. It was all a fantastic joke, he was sure - at any minute Aria would leap out of her coffin and laugh her ringing laugh and ask him if he really believed she was dead. And then she would leap into his arms and kiss him. But none of that ever happened. They put her in the ground, and tossed dirt over her, and erected a large flat rock on top of her. And that was when he finally realized. She was gone. Forever. Never again would he hear her laugh or sing. Never would he be able to kiss her under the moon, to run his hands down her skin, to father her children.
Feeling the familiar heaviness pervading his limbs, Joseph stepped into a side garden and sat wearily down on one of its stone benches. The heaviness did not want to leave him; the weight of loneliness, of futility, of the feeling that perhaps we had no more control over our lives than the crew of a mere rowboat at the mercy of the open sea. This weight pulled at every part of him - he felt tired and heavy-headed no matter how much he slept, his thoughts were all so slow and sad, and the simple act of breathing often seemed an odd, trying task.
At the far end of the garden, Joseph suddenly spotted a young woman lying on the ground. Rushing to her side, he saw that she was wearing a silver-green dress and a green-and-yellow feathered mask. She appeared to have fainted. Joseph put an arm behind her neck, another under her knees, and carried her gently to one of the benches. He took off his waistcoat, folded it, and put it beneath the girl's head. He would have taken her inside, but there was less likely a chance of finding somewhere quiet inside the house.
The girl stirred and mumbled something under her breath. Joseph thought he recognized her voice. "Elaine?" he said softly. "Elaine Fellerton?" Elaine was Aria's younger sister. He had met her on several occasions, a bookish, serious girl that shied away from the spotlight. Sometimes it had been hard to believe they were sisters.
The girl opened her eyes - they were a deep, rich brown with small flecks of greenish-gold in them. Aria's eyes.
"Aria," Elaine gasped. "She's here! Aria is here! I found her mask - look!" She held up a wine-red cat mask. "She must be here. We have to find her, Joseph. We need to find her...before she leaves."
The poor girl had probably fallen ill, Joseph reasoned. He said calmly, "Elaine, Aria isn't here anymore. She won't be coming back. Do you remember?"
Realization slowly filled Elaine's eyes. "Oh, yes," she said frailly. All of a sudden she felt like sobbing. No, her mind instructed her. Mustn't cry. She sighed, then looked at the mask she clutched in her hand. "For a moment, I really did think...but no. It is still so hard to believe, though."
"I know," Joseph said, and Elaine looked at him and saw that he really did know; he knew exactly how it felt.
"Well," she said, gathering herself. "I suppose I'll go back inside. I never did like parties terribly." On a hunch she added, "You may join me, in the library, if you wish."
"Thank you. I think I will. I'm rather sick of dancing."
Ever since she was small, Elaine's favorite place in the house had been the library. She loved being able to open a book and have the words paint a world for her to escape into, magical gardens, wonderful, scented forests, shining seas, and more. The library her family had was spacious and grand, with bookshelves so tall you had to stand on a ladder to reach the upper shelves. Cool tile lined the floors, with warm, heavy rugs laid down at regular intervals beside the shelves and in front of the fireplace. As Elaine and Joseph entered the library, they saw that a fire was already crackling in the fireplace. Even though it was still summer, it got chillier in the evenings.
In front of the fireplace were several well-worn armchairs and a long, low table. Elaine rifled through a spread of books that had been laid down on the table, encouraging Joseph to browse the shelves. For a moment, she realized that she was by herself with an unfamiliar boy. She didn't dwell on it, however. She knew, she just felt, that she could trust him. They were both just imperfect, grieving humans stumbling through their lives, and while it hurt, it was a safe thing to be.
Elaine flipped absentmindedly through a collection of local myths and legends until a certain entry caught her eye. The Lady of Elsinore Hill, she read, skimming the page, was the wife of one of the great kings of England, though it has been widely disputed which one... Her father was a knight and her mother, it is said, was one of the Fey. When the Lady discovered her husband one day in bed with his chambermaid, she killed them both immediately and fled. She roamed the countryside for a while before coming to settle beneath Elsinore Hill, just outside the village of Elsinore. There she has lived for centuries on end... She has a reputation for practicing necromancy, bringing the dead back exactly how they were when they were alive, with no adverse effects...