Through the Mist
Chapter: One
Guinevere Von-Blae walked down the dark streets of her childhood town. An ivory tank top and dark jeans doing nothing to protect her from the freezing predawn air as she followed a path she knew more by instinct than memory. The moist cold air wrapped around her as she forced herself to walk, mind in so deep a chaos she didn't really comprehend where she was going.
Though she struggled to keep them in Guinevere couldn't completely stop the strangled sobs that escaped her throat and hung as fragile white clouds around her head before they rose, disappearing into the inky black night around her. With each time she blinked tears escaped from her pale silver eyes to run down her cheeks. The marks they left black from yesterday's eyeliner, and when Guinevere failed to wipe them away the tears froze in their descent.
Each gentle pounding of her heart burned, the next one always worse than the last. The sobs she refused to give full voice to caused her chest to shudder at the effort it took to keep them in, and her lungs seemed to be ripping apart. Every muscle in her tightly wound body screamed at her, a deep ache settled into her very bones, cold and unforgiving. Even Guinevere's soul seemed to ache, or at least some deep, unnameable part of her being did, seeming to writhe like it wanted out.
Guinevere's wide, silver eyes were glazed over in pain, and clouded, not seeing around her, but rather, seeing things from her past. The very reasons for her pain, her sorrows, and the fury that she knew still excised in her somewhere but that she hadn't genuinely felt in so long, clashed in her mind like some horrible home video. It was like she was there, reliving it, all over again. Guinevere didn't fight it, she'd long since learned how useless that was, so she forced herself to walk and prayed that she wouldn't give voice to the screams building in her.
The deplorable memories played out before her, submerging her so far that each sense was vividly alive and awake. Guinevere could have sworn she could smell the blood and burned flesh as she saw her beloved twin, Kethry, mercilessly beaten to death by nameless strangers. Their manacle laughter rung in her ears, the horrible parody of her voice they used to repeat her pleas and screams of anguish as she watched her brother die for things that neither he nor Guinevere could control.
They screamed out insults that Guinevere didn't comprehend until among them one voice rose out, that deep and forbidding voice dragging her attention away from her brother to stare at the man who'd destroyed her and Kethry's world when they were 9. The very air in her lungs stopped as pure fear rushed through her, and Guinevere locked her eyes to his, the expression in their burning silver depth enough to drag her even farther back into her past.
Had it been only six years ago that he'd ruined her world? To Guinevere it seemed like an eternity had passed since then, but she knew, in the far corners of her mind, that she would never be able to forget that horrid day. Guinevere could still see the face of the man as he had chuckled darkly at her mother, knelling before him, pleading for the life of her children. The cruel half smirk, half smile, that had been his only expression as he viciously slit her mothers throat, the empty look in his startlingly molten mercury eyes as they found where Kethry and Guinevere knelt in horror.
In the moment their eyes met, his widened with shock, his mouth popping open. Guienevere's mother had screamed out for them to run and used her last breath and bit of strength to knock him over so they'd have a chance. Guinevere wasn't even sure how they had gotten away, only that they had.
The memories didn't begin to recede from Guinevere until she reached her destination. Hidden deep down an old dirt road, lined with thick forests, the white stone bridge served as the only way to cross the fast rushing river below. Dimly a flash of memory crossed Guinevere's mind of her and Kethry as they played on the abandoned bridge, it had been one of the few places that their mother would let them go alone, and to the young twins it had been a sort of safe haven.
Staring at it now, Guinevere unconsciously reached a hand up to the pendant hanging around her neck, the only reminder she really had of her twin. Kethry had loved dragons, and the small metal dragon with its tail wrapped around a smooth bloodstone had been his most prized possession. After his death it was the only thing that Guinevere truly cherished, too often it was the only thing that could sooth her. Yet, for some reason that Guinevere didn't want to study to closely, it did nothing for her at the moment other than fill her with the truth that she was alone, so alone.
Later, perhaps, Guinevere would be proud of how she kept herself more or less together until she reached the middle of the bridge and bent over the side and finally let the tears and sobs rack her body. Guinevere's black hued tears fell fast, seemingly endless, meeting the fast paced river below to mix with it's fresh water. Cries and breathless screams joined the chorus of insects and birds, the rushing water, and whipping winds in the night.
Arms braced against the side of the bridge, Guinevere slowly sank to her knee's. Uncaring of how it would seem in the unlikely hood of someone coming across her.
Dawn was beginning to lighten the sky when the tears and sobs finally stopped. Exhausted, Guinevere could barely muster the will to turn and sit down, dangling her legs over the edge. Like a wilting flower Guinevere let her head fall back, arms limp at her side, her burning, puffy, and red eyes taking in the skies above. Even the beauty of the lavender sky, streaked through with purer blues, deep oranges, and pinks in one place dark and in others so light they were nearly white, fail to rouse anything in her when normally she would be reaching for her sketchpad to draw and leave the world behind for a while.
Instead Guinevere only giggled, the sound self-mocking and just slightly hysterical, her eyelids closed on the beautiful sights around her, " 'Time heals all wounds,' ... Bull-fucking-shit!"
"Ah yes, I've always found that some wounds aren't meant to
heal and fade with simply time, but rather heal with our acceptance of it ... and only then can time help it fade,"
Guinevere froze at the sound of that deep masculine voice. The tone rang with truth to her ears, sounding so sincere and wise that she found herself relaxing. Opening her eyes and turning to the stranger. Guinevere heard soft whispers in her mind, gently telling her it was alright, the man was friend. Never one to completely trust those voices, though they had yet to be wrong, Guinevere took swift and complete stock of him, standing a few feet away dressed in dressy clothes like those her mother used to make Kethry wear for church, and a woolen trench coat, before answering, "I've accepted it, and its been four years, your theory doesn't stand,"
The man simply chuckled, the lines of age around his face deepening and a lock of salt and pepper hair fell onto his forehead, "Perhaps... Perhaps... I am Gideon Del Ponce,"
A life of living as if she was one of the ten most wanted criminals in the world had Guinevere thinking up a fake name in seconds, "I'm Tiffany -"
"No your not, your Guinevere Von-Blae, twin to one Kethry Von-Blae, 19 years old... Oh, and you see visions from the past, and even hear past people speak in your head," Gideon said softly, holding his hands up in a non-threatening gestor when Guinevere shot to her feet prepared to run for her life, "Do not fear, I'm not here to harm you, Guinevere, in a way, I'm like you,"
"How did you know all that? What do you mean?" Cautiously Guinevere backed away, cursing herself for running out without grabbing anything that she could use to defend herself. Silver eyes never left the old mans form.
"Well, the only people who really know of this place would be my friend and his sister, and you look quite like him, and it's impossible to be around him for any length of time without hearing all about his amazing sister,"
Guinevere froze, "Who's saying this shit? How do they know?"
"Why, Kethry of course. Who else, Guinevere?" Gideon calmly took a step towards her, slow and careful not to startle the poor, tired, and haunted looking girl, "Actually, I'm surprised your here, we've been searching everywhere for you,"
