Chapter Six

The forest seemed to breathe a sigh of relief as the sun slowly retreated beyond the horizon and disappeared out of my realm.

And so did I.

No longer would it taunt me; or tempt me.

The setting sun bathed the land in its tinted red light, and cast long, dark shadows onto the graves of my companions.

The cooling season was accompanied by the swirling shawl of the wind, wrapping itself gently around me, its unseen dance attempting to rival my undisplayed one.

I ignored the wind’s challenge and continued between the gnarled, old trees, looking from the fading sky to the roses.  

One rose begged for my attention, twitching ever so slightly in the wind’s enchanting dance; the wind attempting to lure it to its final hours in my realm.

Its once blood red petals were fading, tipped uneagerly with black, absorbing the rose’s colour and life. The petals were wilted with the resonance of premature death, as yet it clung to its vine, resisting its fate; refusing to give up.

Maybe it was its time. Though the world is reborn in spring, winter is its cold embrace of a noose.

All beauty must come to an end.

My slim fingers reached up to cradle the rose, gently plucking it from its chain.

Tenderly holding the rose, I walked among the tombstones, other roses were dying; in fact, most of them were.

From the edge of the dark forest, I examined my realm. Among the graves thrived masses of rose vines: some entwined themselves upon headstones and trees, reaching ever upwards towards the sun, vying for any slight glimpse from its rays; while others were content to creep along the soft earth around the bases of the tombstones.

The dying roses hung limply, having given up their stubborn attempt at life. Their petals fell defeated to the ground, the black tipped confetti dancing slowly and silently on their open casket.

Rose petals floated across the ground as my feet moved past them. Their blackening colour of blood created a regal red carpet that swayed and danced with the wind’s sweet tune.

Against a tall oak I rested, slowly sliding to sit, watching the discarded petals prance in the dance of death.

My brother had sought me out yesterday; and in six days, it would be I seeking him. I feared what would happen if I disobeyed my Master and let my brother go.

All beauty must come to an end.

I lowered my head into my hands. A torrent of uneasiness and anger welled up inside my chest. This one human, why couldn’t my Master just let this one go?

All beauty must come to an end. My mind repeated this over and over again; the words my master had so many times spoken to me.

But what was to become of me, then?

All beauty must come to an end.  

I caressed the rose in my fingers, watching its many friends die.

Petals continued to fall from the roses as if they were crying, the tears dancing a timeless waltz.

In my realm I sat, in Death’s Courtyard.

In Death’s Courtyard, there was no escape.

All beauty must come to an end.

I rose, and slowly walked to my above ground tomb. Slow and careful, I exited Death’s Courtyard over the graceful waltz of the lost, and soon to be, forgotten.

All beauty would come to an end; but maybe, not me, for in my chest beats the heart of a stone cold monster.