A Second Interlude

So... Part Three is still in progress, and I'm afraid I've run out of ideas for where the story should go next. If any of you have ideas for the next part of Violet, feel free to comment below! However, while you wait, here is another short piece.
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The day had just begun to cool down when the sun sank lower, the sky darkened, and the stars sparkled against the ever-deepening twilight. A cool breeze started up, and the meadow grasses whispered as they bent around two prone figures in the middle of the isolated park. Both Izel and Katana breathed in the fresh night air, grateful for the breeze after a sweltering day.
The two girls had been best friends since the time they had been three years old and their mothers had placed them in the same daycare. Throughout preschool, elementary school, junior high, and high school, the two had been absolutely inseparable. Now, both of them were applying to colleges and moving on with life's brisk pace. today had been the most difficult day of their lives.
Izel had chosen to go to a school out in California, where she had dreamed of living since she had been a little girl. She had a cousin who lived there and visited exactly once for a family reunion and couldn't wait to return to the sun, the beaches, the cities, and everything.
Katana, on the other hand, had elected to apply and was accepted to a college in Illinois. Most of her family resided there and the majority of her childhood and teenage summers had been spent there visiting her uncles, aunts, cousins, grandparents, and other obscure relatives.
Today was the last day before each friend was leaving to go her separate way- the last day they had to spend in one another's company.
The entire sunlit hours had been spent out and about the city- downtown, to be specific. The two friends had gone into every store, ate lunch at a favorite restaurant, and enjoyed an outdoor concert. All through the day both girls had laughed and smiled as they usually did when they spent time together, avoiding the fact that they were not going to see each other again for many months while away at school. Now, at the conclusion of the day, by unspoken consent, the two friends had gone to the meadow, where the best memories of their lives had taken place.
The sky continued to dim and the stars continued to brighten and neither girl wanted to face the reality that would hit them in the face in the airport the next morning. Instead, they sighed, and wished for this moment to extend into eternity.

An Interlude

Part Three of Violet is taking a while, so here's a short interlude while Part Three is in-progress. This particular piece was inspired by a picture I found on Pinterest here. Enjoy!
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Wolves howled in the distance at the full, shining moon far above the lofty silhouettes of skeletal trees with sharp limbs that stuck out at periodically odd angles up and down the unnaturally straight trunks. Thorny brambles shook beneath their superiors from a soft eastern breeze. Tiny drops of dew no larger than a needle's eye shivered and fell in small puddles on the pine-strewn ground, seeping into the moist earth. A cloaked figure stumbled and fell into a previously unseen thicket of bushes with thorns drawn and ready.
Quickly, almost frantically regaining footing, the figure ran on, drops of crimson blood that seemed black in the midnight light trickling down and splattering onto the ground. The fabric of the cloak tore and left strips hanging in the brambles like ribbons, conspicuous evidence that the fugitive had no time to retrieve.
As the runaway's footsteps and heaving breaths faded away northward, more prints were being made- hoof prints. A large, ebony stallion paused while its rider leapt off its back and investigated the undergrowth. He smiled at the sight of cloth dangling from still-quivering branches.
They were close.

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Violet- Part Two: Old Friends

I'm sorry for the long wait, but here is the second part of Violet. I hope you enjoy it! Part Three should be coming soon.
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When Birdie bustled in an hour later, it was to find a very despondent-looking young lady gazing out the window in one of the palace robes. She turned around just as Birdie was closing the door. Their eyes met.
For a moment neither of them spoke. Both were surprised to find the other there.
"Gail?" Violet whispered disbelievingly.
"Vi!" Birdie replied excitedly. "How on earth-"
"It's a long story," Violet explained. "But why-"
"It's a long story," her friend repeated.
The two women stood there for two seconds, still shocked at having found one another at last, then happily embraced, shedding a few tears in the process.
"I thought you escaped!" Violet said incredulously when they broke apart.
"And I thought you went for reinforcements," Gail replied with the same disbelieving tone.
"I did, but I was caught," Violet said ruefully. "But how did you end up here?"
"I'll tell you while you dress- here, this will do." Gail pulled out a simple light green gown from the wardrobe. "I'm supposed to bring you down to see him."
"Oh," Violet said with disgust shaking her head.
She paused, then looked up with an odd look on her face.
"Actually," she added, "do you know why he wants to see me so badly? I escaped once already, but he caught me again after only three days!" She shimmied into the bodice of the dress.
"I'm not quite sure, but he's been talking about some prophecy about something or other. Do you need help lacing up?"
"Yes, please; I still don't know how great ladies can stand all these buttons and ribbons and such- it seems too much trouble for anyone."
Gail smiled at her friend's frank opinion. It was almost like old times, before any of this had happened.
"Did you wash?"
"I was about to when you came in."
"I see. Well, I'll just arrange your hair so he doesn't notice."
"Thank you."
Gail nodded in acknowledgement while she tied and crossed the many laces on Violet's back.
"So, tell me," her friend continued, "how did you end up here?"
Gail almost laughed; that was a very long and somewhat complicated tale.
"Well," she began, "after our attempts failed and everyone was running for it, I hid myself in a tree. I waited for hours until I was certain that everyone had gone and I was alone. My legs had cramped up as well, so that made it difficult to get down. When I heard no other sounds except for a breeze, I quietly sneaked out of the tree, donned peasant clothes from those that were left strewn on the ground, and posed as a laundress in a nearby village.
"I was washing one day when a palace guard came up and asked-no, demanded- me to wash a shirt for him. I didn't want to draw attention to myself, so I removed the stains as hastily as possible and gave it back to him when it was dry. By then I'd been living in the village for several months, nearly a year, and the village folk knew and were comfortable with my presence. I'd say we were all friendly acquaintances.
"When it came time for the guard to pay me, he only gave me half the charge, adding that I'd been lucky to receive that much from him. I was absolutely insulted by this remark, a feeling that only intensified when he snatched his now-dry garment from my hands and walked jauntily away, as if I were his servant.
"I called out for help, and the village leaders came, along with the rest of the community. They confronted the guard and forced him to pay me the proper sum, but he spat at me after depositing the coins in my hand. The next day, he came back with what seemed like a small army and demanded I come away with them. They were all very strong and imposing, and I had no choice but to go along with them. No one else would stand up to them with me this time- there were too many of them for a small village to overcome with sheer numbers.
"I felt like a prisoner- which I may as well have been- with all the guards on my right, my left, in front, and behind. The posse brought me to him, and the guard, who was like the ringleader, spoke to him, saying that I had defied him the day before and was guilty of rebellion and treason. He peered at me and asked if I could verify the guard's story. I said that I could not, only saying that there had been a slight disagreement over the price of my laundering services.
"That's when things turned a bit... strange, I suppose you would say. He seemed a little off that day, as if his mind was elsewhere. He began interrogating me as if I was applying for a post at the palace as a laundress. Hardly any questions had been asked before he declared that I was the new head laundress and thew guard was to be relocated to a place far away from where I was working. I've been here ever since."
She jerked Violet's hair as she said this and pulled it back into a rather excellent bun that was simple, but covered her unwashed roots with a few braids intertwined throughout the hairstyle. A perfect disguise.
"Wow," Violet said in awed tones. "So you've been here for how long?"
"Eight months and sixteen days."
"I'm amazed! You've pulled many stunts, Gail, but none as spectacular as this. No one has suspected you of anything?"
"I don't believe so. But you'd better start calling me 'Birdie'- just to get in the habit, you know. I've only lasted this long because no one has known anything about my true identity. I'd greatly appreciate it if you would act like you have never seen or met me before."
"Don't worry, I won't give you away," Violet promised.
"Thank you," Birdie said.
With one final tug, Birdie completed the intricate chignon with Violet's hair and stepped back to admire her work.
"Well, I'd say you're ready to see him now. Do you feel all right?"
"As well as I can feel after enjoying the effects of a concussion."
Birdie's lips tugged at a smile. She had missed Vi's dry sense of humor.
Feeling in her bag, Birdie' hand happened upon something cold and hard. She grasped it and pulled it out, presenting it to her friend.
"You might want this, then, just in case."
Violet accepted the gift. It was a dangerously sharp dagger with a silver handle and a small inset diamond that sparkled in the light like a teardrop splattering on the ground. She gazed at its deadly beauty, then placed it in one of the hidden pockets in the folds of her dress.
"I suppose I'm ready now," she affirmed.
The two friends stepped out of the chamber and began to walk down the corridor. This time Violet paid attention to her surroundings, memorizing the turns and twists of the passageways. at last the two came to a large, imposing oaken door. There were intricate carvings and designs etched into the dark wooden face, depicting centuries-old coronations, landscapes, and monarchs. Though she had been here before, Violet still found the decorations quite striking.
Birdie whispered in one of the guard's ears, and he went in to announce the arrival of the two women. Violet and Birdie waited only a few seconds before being ushered into the great throne room.

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Violet- Part One: Recapture

The following is the first part of a short story that I've been working on for a while. I hope you enjoy it, and there will be more to come during the next week!
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Sparkling drops of dew quivered and fell, glittering, as the leather-soled foot flattened the area of emerald blades. Silver mist lay over the lush glade like a film of dust on an archaic tome. As the soft, worn shoe lifted to crush another miniature forest, a long, wavering note, low and mournful, reverberated through the pre-dawn peace. The foot paused mid-step, hovering in the air like a hummingbird's wing, listening as the last echo faded into silence.
Almost at once, a large mass of intertwined vines stronger than rope tumbled down and trapped the fleeing escapee, who thrashed around like a fish out of water, trying in vain for release from the entangling net. A series of loud footsteps were enough to pause the struggling fugitive mid-thrash as the shady silhouette of a tall, lean body towered over the cowering captive. A leering mouth filled with pearly white teeth was the last sight before everything went black.

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Shadows. Stone. Seeping coldness. Shackles cutting into scarred wrists and ankles. Skittering rats with glowing red eyes hungry for the taste of rot.
Eyes, covered a moment before by thin, pale curtains with dark tassels, snapped open to reveal irises the color of violets in springtime with the barest hint of sea foam green. A pink tongue ventured out to appease the cracked, dry lips that once were ruby red with its temporary balm.  Long tresses of chestnut-brown hair hung limply to the prisoner's shoulders. Pinned against the unfeeling stone of the cell, the fair prisoner seemed to do nothing but hang limply from the rusted chains secured to the solid wall.
In such a way many a day passed, but whether it had been a minute, an hour, a day, a week, it did not matter to the darkly clad prisoner. Her leather belt had been deprived of its simple dagger and now hung with an unfamiliar lightness. She did her best to ignore all the unpleasant memories that the cell had clawing at her wall of indifference.
And so an eternity passed.
A sliver of light, no wider than a needle, pierced the thick darkness of the gloom. The prisoner didn't so much as stir. Soft footsteps, barely discernible above the echoing skitters of vermin, slowly and deliberately approached the cell. All at once everything became silent. It was as if all the world had stopped turning. The hostage still did not so much as raise her head. A tall figure, thin and lethal, leered down at the chained captive.
"So you have deigned to return. I must say that I am rather glad of it; everything seemed... incomplete without your presence here. I hope you have found your room accommodating.  We do try to make everything as comfortable as possible here, as you know."
The speaker allowed himself a small chuckle, a sound that dripped with irony.
"Now then," the voice turned cold and sharp, "we must discuss your fate. I was not pleased when we found you were gone. Your incompetent guard has been done away with and a newer, far more able guard has taken his place. Many events have transpired since your leaving, Miss Violet. You shall find that I will not be so lenient the next time you step out of line."
Violet kept her head down, giving no indication that she had heard or comprehended the thin speaker's words.
There was a snap, and a large, burly man with a goatee appeared next to the thin man.
"Show Miss Violet to her new room. Allow her an hour to freshen up, then send Birdie in to bring her to the throne room."
The large man nodded, loosened Violet from her fetters, and took her limp body by the arm to gruffly lead her through a complex maze of hallways, doors, chambers, and staircases. Violet knew she ought to at least try to memorize the twists and turns the guard led her through, but the exhaustion and fatigue from her escape and recapture had taken their toll on her physically and mentally. As it was, the servants changed the adornments on the walls so often that it had taken her several weeks before she had memorized all the corridors when she had previously escaped, information that had flown out of her head when the net had fallen over her face.
The guard stopped abruptly, causing Violet to trip over her own two feet. She would have fallen on the cold stone if not for the firm grip the soldier's meaty hands had on her arm. She looked up to see a mahogany door that seemed to radiate familiarity. She knew where she was immediately. Her old room, her old prison.
As the door opened and Violet was roughly shoved into the small tower room, she recognized the satin sheets, the only slightly worn rugs, the smooth oak wardrobe. The curtains were the same gossamer blue, a stark contrast to the general air of foreboding. Indeed, Violet would have been easily tricked into thinking that Sir Ryan had lied concerning her quarters, if not for a single detail that was not immediately noticed, but made all the difference.
"Your clothes are in the wardrobe. There is soap and hot water in the bathing chamber. Birdie will be here in one hour."
The guard's voice was deep, like rumbling thunder, but not all that threatening in its tone. In fact, the bulky man seemed to retain a bit of sympathy in his eyes for her current situation, and perhaps a touch of sorrow in his voice. This surprised Violet. When last she had been an almost permanent guest here, nearly all of the servants and guards had treated her with an air of indifference, as if afraid to connect with her or form any kind of relationship with a dressed-up captive of their master's. But this guard... he was different. Right then she resolved to discover as much as she could about him.
Violet nodded, then turned away as she heard the door close quietly behind her. Now she could have a better look at her surroundings. Everything seemed untouched, exactly the way she'd left it- except for the curtains.
When she had left before, she had made sure that the thick gossamer curtains were closed all the way. Now, however, they were about an inch apart. Cautiously, Violet approached the sky blue hangings, expecting the same view of the southern hills as before. When she drew them back, though, she beheld a very different sight.
Over the horizon, there could be soon a faint hint of pink, tinged with gold. Reflected across this occurrence was a lake, still and calm as if nothing terrible had happened. It was when the golden orb burst forth from the jagged mountains that had been its protection that it hit her.
She was in the East Tower.

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Ode to a Peach

O, Peach!
How lovely is your fuzz,
So soft and gentle to the hand.
How perfect your hue,
That which is yellow-orange
Like the setting sun o'er the
Lengthy horizon
Or reflected across the surface
Of a still pond.
O, Peach!
How unparalleled your shape
So perfectly spherical to fit in my palm.
How sweet to the tongue
Your tangy, sticky nectar
Dribbling down my chin.
O, Peach!
Dear Peach!
No fruit can hope to compare
To your exquisite way
Of flawless ripening
On the spring branches laden
With your blessed weight.
O, Peach!
You are my idol,
My love,
My heaven on earth!

eternal perspective

it is still dark outside
when i take my first breath.
the trees are nothing
but shady silhouettes
backed up against a slightly
darker shade of sky.
even the birds are silent,
so early am i awake.
no clouds hide nature's
spotlights, so high above
me in the immense
and eternal heavens.
it's almost incomprehensible,
really,
how small i feel
compared to how wide and far
space reaches out
to untold limits
(if there are any)
and other worlds so
different
and perhaps not so different
from my own.
i take this time alone
to ponder such things
and for a moment,
i catch a glimpse of what
an eternal perspective
is really all about.

Silver Was

Silver was my dress
When we first met
On a chance, a whim of fate.
It shone with a glory
Surpassed only
By the celestial lights
Glowing high above.

Silver was the moon
When we first met
Under the willow
With its beams shining through
The natural curtain
Of fluttering leaves
And branches swaying
In the night breeze.

Silver was the stream
When we first met
A ribbon of silk
Flowing o'er the land
To reach its destination
So far from where
We stood.

Silver was the ring
That you placed upon
My quivering finger
So simple, and so delicate
A symbol of joyous union.

Silver were the tears
I shed when you asked.
Tears of delight
That reflected the stars
And eternal happiness.