Rose Wars

Love has no boundaries. Not even for two people caught in a century old battle.

 

I am of the Red, but he is of the White.

Two lovers caught in a war against time; all the time in the world.

We’re immortal you see, people untouched by the hands of time. Youthful, beautiful faces hide centuries of fighting and death. Behind secretive eyes, feelings of lust and love are smothered into nothing, the flames doused in icy water. I’ve been taught to hide my emotions, that doing this will make you the best warrior of all. But I never seem to be strong enough to do so.

For thousands of years the Red and the White have fought against each other in the ultimate struggle for power. It’s the instinct of all Immortals to fight those who oppose us. In our case it’s the White.

I don’t know why they’re called that. The reasons have been lost in time. Not even the elders know why and when asked they simply reply, ‘That is the way it has always been’. No one pushed the elders farther.

But there are those, like me, who think that the Rose War’s are the result of an ancient dispute between the elders of our two clans. That the only reason we are fighting is because their hate and malice for the ‘others’ was passed down through generations.

The ‘others’, that what we called them, the White. Besides the natural instinct, our clan can be distinguished by the insignias that each of us if born with. For us, the Red, our insignias are a spiraling design that reminds me, personally, of lace, with red roses nestled in the design. It starts are our shoulder blades where the main, and largest, rose is then the lace spreads out to cover all of our back.

The Whites can be distinguished but they’re rune like insignia. There is a thin line of ink like runes that start just below the ears, and grows larger as they thread through each other over the skin around the shoulders and across the chest.

When we are killed, these insignias disappear.

It’s a way to protect us from the humans finding out about our existence. Normally it’s pretty easy to hide and when someone careless slips up, we use the excuse that it’s our tattoo. But it get pretty suspicious when several people have the exact same tattoo.

So that’s basically it, the story of our lives as part of the Wars of Roses.

It’s a story I often think of when I’m standing on the edge of a building looking at the city below.

I’m not just here by happenstance, I’m here for a reason.

There is a slight wind tonight, one that’s strong enough to whisk my dark hair away from my shoulders. It was near midnight, but New York City was as alive as ever. Gazing out over the tops of the buildings, I could see the yellow lights from the streets below shinning up through the gaps in the buildings. The moon was full overhead and a few stars peeked through the haze. The edge of my long jacket flapped slightly in the wind, filling in the semi-silence of the rooftop. Well, as silence as New York gets.

“Katia”.

My insignia tingled slightly under my shirt. I turned my head enough to see him standing a few feet behind me. My Erik.

Erik Sentry was born in Ireland in the year 1352, just century before I was born, and is incredibly handsome with chiseled cheek bones and a smooth forehead. Light, straw covered hair fell to grace the neck of his jacket and stopped just at his eyebrows. His eyes were a piercing light blue.

“Katia”, he said again, taking a step forward. My name sounded strange on his Irish tongue. It was seductive and sweet at the same time, like a timid lover.

“Katia, come”, he said, taking yet another step.

I turned to face him. The wind blew my hair into my face, and the bottoms of my coat flapped around my thighs. Even in the dull light, his White insignia could be seen.

“Erik, when are you going to stop bossing me around?” The words came thickly through my Russian accent. Two centuries of living in American had not softened the accent.

He smirked and shoved his hands into his jeans. “Its part of my nature”, he said, teasingly.

I cocked my head in observation. “Some things never improve with time”.

The smirk morphed into a smile and he opened his arms out to me. “Katia…”

I crossed the space between us in a few stride and practically threw myself into his waiting arms. One arm encircled me, the other reached up to stroke my hair.

We stood there for a while, letting the wind wrapped around us. I buried my face in his chest, inhaling the sweet scent of him.

He and I met three centuries ago with full intensions of killing each other. We met in Germany. I’d been tracking him for a few months hoping that he’d lead me to a coven of White’s hiding out somewhere in Germany. At the time I had no idea that he knew I was following him. He led me all over the blasted country, and to this day I still hate going back.

It was there in Germany that the two of us confronted each other. It took an entire night of fighting to get us to actually speak to one and other, and by that time we were both wounded to badly that we could barely move. Don’t ask how it happened but it just did. When Immortals fight, we fight with as much strength as we can muster, but even that fades with time.

I still remember the first words we ever had.

“Well this is a strange predicament”.

I don’t remember why, but for some reason this opening sentence struck me as funny. I remember laughing.

He was strong enough to move before I was. I remember the terror at the prospect of death as he limped towards me, his sword brandished in the rising sunlight. The blade was cool against my neck as he held it there. He leaned in and simply said, ‘Go dtí an chéad uair eile ' and kissed my forehead, and then was gone.

I later found out that he said ‘Until next time, my dear’.

We met in random places around the world after that, but we never seemed to run into each other when we’re looking. It’s usually the moment we stop looking, we run into one and other. Erik once explained it in a way that I still don’t fully understand. “You can’t go looking for fate, Katia, fate finds you”.

I first fell in love with Erik Sentry….the first time we fought. Before I met him my world gravitated around thoughts and actions of the White and the Red, but the moment I looked into those blue eyes my entire world shifted. He was my gravity, he fueled most of my thoughts. Those incredibly long periods when we didn’t see each other, were terrible.

“Erik, how long can we continue doing this?” I asked, my voice slightly muffled by his shirt, “What if we get caught?”

There was an eerie silence between us. We both knew very well that if we were caught, we’d both be killed without hesitation.

“It’s worth risking”, he said above my head.

“We have forever to risk it”, I tightened my hold around his waist.

“And forever is not worth living without you”. He pressed his lips against my hair.

I pulled away to look into his eyes. I lifted my fingers to gently trace the rune like designs on his neck. His eyes shut as my hands traveled down his shoulders to rest on his chest. Centuries of being together with long moments apart in between, we know how to appeal to each other.

His breathe is hot on my face as he leans into to kiss me, his lips light and teasing on mine. He plants butterfly kisses on my chin, my jaw, and my nose, before ending with a heated kiss back to the lips. I know his style; he’ll tease me so much that I get rough with impatience.

His arms circle me tightly, and I’m pressed against his chest. Memories dance in front of my vision running together in a string of quick thoughts.

He and I are in a rustic cabin, high in the Carpathian Mountains, heatedly kissing as clothes are thrown to the floor. We sit entwined on the cliffs of California, watching the sunrise after a night of just he and I. We waltz across an open field in Ontario. We skinny dip in a lake in Maine, untouched by the cold waters that surround us.

Suddenly, he pulls away, breaking the heat between us. I stare at him with pleading eyes.

“Katia, my love, I must go”, he says the words in a pained way and I know he doesn’t want to leave. He reaches up and lays the back of his hand lovingly on my cheek. “I promised them, I wouldn’t be long”.

“Erik…” I can get no further, my throat tightens with longing.

He leans in; taking my face in his hands and presses his forehead against mine. “Katia, you are my world, my life, my sun. You’re the air I breathe and the water I drink and the ground I stand upon. Do not think that the days we are apart are not spent thinking of you”.

I’m comforted little by these words. We’ll not see each other for a year at the least, and with each departure he takes a little of me with him.

I shut my eyes and touch my hands against his. We stay like that for as long as Erik dares. He leans down and passionately kisses me, no restraints and no teasing. It’s the kiss I’ve longed for and the kiss that will get me through the time that we are apart.

“Go dtí an chéad uair eile, mo ghrá”, he whispers against my lips and is gone.

 

Until next time, my love

Author's Note

I tried something new here. Thoughts? Ideas for improval?

Reviews

[Zeitgeist Manifesto]

I love all the details you packed into this story. One after another they surface. Erik and Katia seem to be the only one's who understand that there is more to life than simply blindly following orders. Of all the immortals they are the only ones who truly live. It's a shame they have to life secret lives. This is an excellent story. The theme is classic...but not everyone can do it this kind of justice.

[Sands]

very nice new style. i've not seen this in you before. imagry is awesome, can i ask for more details though! i left to think of so much i had un answered there is so much i want elaborated on, for the next one of course ;), and i noticed one thing i would like you to change... it sounds like you are saying he's from Austria, Germany which are two different countries, not like Gerogia, USA or san diego, califonia....so, which is it?
please make it a series! i loves it