Shadowed Memory

Short Story 

By Elmo101

It was dusk – winter dusk. Snow lay white and shining over the pleated hills, and icicles hung from the forest trees. The snow fluttered in the breeze like a white dove feather, gracefully clinging to the tall pine tree decorating it. The wind wisped with an angelic sound of reassurance - like a peaceful melody.  Even though covered with the graceful white winter, the pine of the forest filled my nostrils. The smell gave a familiar odour that teased my senses – wood and rain – it was almost home-like.

I let my imagination run away with me, pushing the trivialities as far back in my mind as humanly possible. For one of the first times in many years I allowed myself to languish – relaxing in the taste of the safe environment in which I was enveloped.

The transitory elegant smell stung with nostalgia. What wouldn't I give to be here, everyday instead of being caged in the odiferous edifice of the stone walls that entraps me day in and day out.

The breeze caressing my pale arms, teasing my longing for the permanent comfort from the sweet song of the birds and the freedom of the blissful day. I breathe in a sigh of relief as I let the world around me sway with ease. I wonder what it would be like to be a tree. To look down on the world, in all its longevity and to see all the destruction, all the wars, the macabre visuals implanted in their memories.

My peaceful thoughts were soon forgotten as the lurking shadow behind me cleared his throat seeking my attention. "Miss, I do believe we should be on our way." His rough, eloquent voice almost seemed incongruent with the visuals that stood before me. Ennui arose in me as I turned to the man behind me. I cast my eyes down into the soft white snow that lay below me. Dissatisfaction pouring out of every languid step I took towards the man.

His structured face was held high in formality as his facial features showed vehement expressions of uncaring attributes. His dark hair swept down shadowing the true emotions that reflected in his eyes. I brushed my own hair out of my eyes and hugged the fur coat I was wearing to try and keep warm. I hadn't even noticed I was cold until that very moment.

"There is no need for such formal dressing of language out here. No one is in hearing range so you won't get a lashing for addressing me by my name" I spoke trying to stop the slight smile from making its appearance on my lips.

I noticed his shoulders slightly loosen up, and yet he still held his knightly stance – agile and ready to do his job in protecting me, but it was the friend that was inside of him that I needed now, not a tool of war. "We must get you out of here before you catch a cold." He bowed his head slightly to me as a signal of respect before leading the way back to the safe walls of my home town. I could not understand how one of noble blood had to stand superior to that of their friends nor that of any person. Who made these rules? Surely we were placed as equals on this world.

"Bordeigh," He coasted his heavy steps to a stop, signalling that he had indeed heard me. "Please, call me Alys...You have been my dearest friend since I can remember." There was a moment of silence before he swiftly turned to meet my eyes, revealing his own. Cloudy. Blue. Reflecting the sadness held in his heartt.

"It will soon be sunset," he spoke half-heartedly before continuing his march back towards the cold stone I call home. I sighed in disappointment at the coldness with which he addressed me. It saddened me to my core as I watched what once was my dearest friend, turn into the cold, emotionless tool he was trained to be. It almost seemed that he could communicate better with swords then with words themselves. Yet, deep down I knew that he was still there under the shell of steel armour with which he surrounded himself.

"Hurry up, Alys." I allowed my face to brighten up as I heard my name roll elegantly off his tongue. I quickly jogged my way through the silky snow pulling my dress gracefully up to make it easier, slowing my pace once I fell into step with Bordeigh.

"What were you thinking about?" He asked keeping his stare straight as he trekked through the blissfully white ground that compacted beneath him. His leather boots made the slightest churn of a sound.

I knitted my eyebrows in confusion before considering asking him what it was that he meant. "What do you mean?"

"Back there, when you were standing in the forest, I was just curious what it was you were thinking about." he explained giving me the slightest of glances out of the corner of his eyes.

"I was thinking about the war." I noted sadly. Brodeigh sighed, he knew of my hatred towards the war. It only grew when I found that Brodeigh himself would be advancing as well.

"You should stand by your father in his decisions. You know that there was no other solution to end this unrest."

"Is that what you feel or is that what my father thinks." I asked rhetorically, knowing I wouldn't get an answer from him even if I tried.

"Even so, he is your father." He spoke ignoring my initial statement like I knew he would.

"Blood relation has nothing to do with this and you know it. You're being used as a tool for the efficiency of a coward who can't even try to settle matters himself."

"Alys... I don't think you understand the danger the land faces if we do not proceed with the attack tomorrow."

 "Personally, I feel that war has the equivalence to cannibalism or murder..." I spat in disgust.  "There just fustian, spreading words of supposed secrets to ignite false hatred between lands."

"You speak of hatred, or is it that you are really speaking with sadness." Brodeigh asked softly.

I swallowed my raging words and just shook my head, I no longer wanted to speak of this war or destruction, I wanted that peaceful place of tranquillity to be captured in my mind for ever. It would help me forget the devastation of the future I knew would come. Sadness... I guess he was right. Somewhere deep down I knew that I would never see him again.

In the end everything returns to normality. The war has become like an unspoken memory, the people who gave their lives – just that – dead. What was achieved? If we choose not to learn from our mistake then what good is it loosing; friends and family, no matter their status. They just become a shadow of a memory – a tombstone in the ground that no one cares to talk about because they are too abashed to admit their mistakes. 'It isn't like we can bring back the dead, anyway'

War. Fighting. Death. I truly wonder, how would the world continue without this mass destruction?

It was dusk – winter dusk. Snow lay white and shining over the pleated hills, and icicles hung from the forest trees like razor sharp knives. The snow weighed down on my feet entrapping me. I felt akin to the trees that surrounded me, weighted down by the snow...only this snow would not budge. Not even with the unsettling wind that growled and howled at my presence. The pine of the forest was now that odiferous scent that I longed to escape from. It was home no more.

It was now a place of sadness. A place where stood the carved rock that now was the only symbol I had of my once dear friend.

I truly wonder...how would the world continue without this mass destruction...without war? 

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Author's Notes:

Okay so this was a piece I had to write for English and my teacher was pretty happy with it so I thought well why not stick it up here. Just want to see what other people's opinions are about it. :)