Winter

by Raven Taylor

  “So Cane, you come before me with your unruly apprentice, he who does not wish to work and ensure that the grand design is carried out as we intended.” the voice echoed from somewhere far in the shadows but its owner remained hidden.

  “Indeed I have Lord.”

  “Speak, ungrateful one, what have you to say for yourself?”

  I could not find the words to answer. Rarely had I stood in the presence of one of the Great Ones and never had I spoke to Myron. I was rendered temporarily mute and I felt Cane’s reassuring hand on my shoulder.

  “He is young Lord,” Cane spoke for me, “And awed by your presence. The problem with Winter is that he does not yet appreciate how important our work is, how necessary it is to keep the cycle moving.”

  “You have displeased me greatly and youth should be no excuse. You have a black heart just as we all do, it should be all you need. You will be punished.”

  There was an engulfing silence around us for a moment which seemed to swamp my thoughts.

  “Lord,” Cane broke it, “I agree, his actions, his refusal to work displease me greatly too but as I know him best may I suggest a fitting punishment?”

  Silence again.

  “Cane, you are the oldest of the Dark Angels and I respect your views and value your ideas. Speak.”

  “Well, the way I see it is this: You could condemn young Winter to an eternity of misery and suffering but he would be of far more value to you if he could return to service. If we could somehow rectify this strange attitude that has recently taken hold of him.”

  “And how do you suggest we do that?”

  “To teach him the importance of death I suggest we cast him out, make him live as a mortal. Then he will gain first hand experience of death and will hopefully come back to us changed and a useful worker. If not, then you can always punish him in your own way.”

  I was trembling slightly as Myron declared that he would consider it but in the meantime I was to be locked away and made to suffer. After that I was shut away in the dark cell and bound in a strait jacket and had been there now for two days.

  “Such a pitiful sight it is to see such a beautiful thing bound and captive like this,” Cane sighed, “And to tear those lovely wings from your body with my own hands. How could I ever do such a thing?”

  “You made me do something similar not so long ago,” I said bitterly, “It’s hard to hurt the ones you care about.”

  “I know that now,” he said dejectedly, “I can only apologise. I did not have the slightest idea how it felt for you giving her death.”

  “I’m glad you do now. Perhaps if I ever come back we can remain equals and work as such forever.”

  “I would like that. Winter, this is hard, but either way he wants your wings today. I think he is testing me, making sure I am not on your side, not your friend. He wants me to show him I’m committed to punishing you before he gives consent to your plan.”

  “I’m not afraid,” I said honestly, “I’ve been to the edge and back. The things I have experienced have changed me forever. I am no longer the weak one I once was.”

  “I know. I see it in your eyes, they are hardened, somehow older.”

  “I will embrace the pain, if it means I am a step closer to being with Lilly when she ends her days then I will welcome the hurt.”

  There was a tortured expression upon Cane’s face. His already ghoulish features were contorted with reluctance. He took off his hat and jacket and set them on the bench beside him. From his belt he drew a long gleaming dagger carved along the deadly blade with old Angel script, some dead language I was too young to recall. He set the blade next to the discarded garments and approached me. He pulled me off the floor and into a kneeling position. With gloved hands he worked at the buckles and knots of my restraints, freeing me from the constricting jacket. I took a deep breath, glad to be rid of the crushing pressure and stood. I turned around to face Cane and he looked at me sadly as he to rose.

  “Who would have thought it could end this way? Forced to maim my beautiful one.”

  I was numb. It was if my body was deadening my senses in preparation for what was about to come.

  “Turn around Winter.” Cane was in tears now.

  I turned my back to him once more. I heard the threatening clank of metal on stone as he lifted the dagger from the bench and then I felt his hands on my left wing, pulling it to its full length, caressing the black feathers lovingly, reluctant to harm me. He folded it again and placed his fingers on the back of my neck in a gesture of reassurance. It was coming now, no turning back. I closed my eyes and clenched my teeth. Cane swung the dagger and sliced cleanly through my wing where it joined my shoulder. I screamed as the pain shook my body. No hesitation. Better that it be over quickly.

  The dagger cut through the air again with a swift swish and within seconds both of my wings were gone. I fell to my knees then and Cane dropped the dagger. It clattered noisily on the floor. I was still screaming, every nerve in my being raw and tortured, and behind me Cane was weeping. Eventually as the initial shock began to lessen and the pain began to dwindle to a throb I silenced my cries and fell awkwardly face first onto the floor. Cane seemed to have got a grip of himself too and he was kneeling at my side stroking my face.

  “I am sorry, I am so sorry.” he murmured over and over again.

  I don’t know how long we remained like that. Me a broken heap on the floor and Cane muttering insanely but we were disturbed by the sound of approaching footsteps. Slightly panicked Cane stood up and brushed the tears from his face. I heard the cell door opening but could not summon enough strength to look round to see who was intruding on this personal moment.

  “Ah, so the deed is done, excellent,” it was Myron, “I’m sorry to have ever doubted you Cane. I heard him wailing from down the corridor and I knew you had been faithful to me.”

  “Of course Lord.” I hoped Myron could not detect the strained tone in Cane’s voice.

  “Well, now I can grant your request,” he announced, “Do you here me young one? Tomorrow you shall be cast out to live in the middle world. I hope all of this teaches you something.”

  I could only groan.

  “Bind him up again Cane before you leave.”

  I heard the door close and Myron left. Cane pulled me off the ground and held me in his arms. I glanced around but my wings were gone. Myron must have taken them with him.

  “We have succeeded,” Cane sighed without much enthusiasm, “From tomorrow I must learn to live without you.”

  I was light headed, drifting towards unconsciousness.

  “I’ll stay near you whenever I can. You might not know I’m there but I will be. You will never be alone no matter what.”

  I was hardly even aware as he slid me back into the jacket and buckled me in. Less awkward a task when there was no wings to hinder him.

  “I won’t get to say goodbye tomorrow with Myron and all the others being there and so I’ll say it now. Goodbye Winter. I can only hope this all pays off for your and that it will be worth all the suffering. I hope that you will come back to me one day.”

  He kissed me on the cheek and I fell into oblivion.

  CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

  And so you see Caroline, what I am, what I was and always will be. This wretched bringer of death, the very thing that has been the curse of man his entire existence. Yes Caroline, the one you put so much faith in is a monster, a killer. Yet please believe that I despise what I do. I am taking action even now to put things right and this is part of it, me writing this for you, me giving you this choice. Yet there is still more to tell before we get to that. This story must be brought to it's conclusion, I have to get it all down on paper, from beginning to end, even if it is only to make peace with myself.

  I felt a kind of euphoric relief in the time that followed. I think I knew deep down what lay in store for me too as we both fell into a pattern of gay and reckless abandon; nothing worried us anymore because there was little poin
t in fretting, I knew now what she meant when she said her actions were without consequence. If something was dangerous what did it matter? If something was expensive who cared? It was strangely liberating and in a way we were lucky for few people, be they rich or poor ever, have the chance to live as we did in the coming weeks. You may think yourself free but I can assure you you barely know the meaning of the word freedom.

  It is an important lesson I learned during my time with your kind. You all know that you are going to die, it’s the only certainty, yet you exercise so much caution, few of you really live, but cut your time short and they are capable of fitting a whole lifetime of events into a few weeks. If I could have everyone do one thing then it would be this: live each day like it is your last.

  But this is just coming from my sentimental side. That soft and emotional part of me that should not even be present in one such as myself. The side of me Cane both loves and hates. I apologise, I am straying away from the story now. Let us go back to the Inner sanctum where I lie still, as if in a deep, tortured sleep.

  When I came round the room was empty. My neck was stiff from the angle my head lay on the vast piles of sumptuous pillows. It was warm in the inner sanctum and I had no idea what time it was as the heavy drapes were pulled across the window that looked out onto the Royal Mile. My head felt foggy and as I sat up it swam with images of Cane, of Edinburgh's old town, of Lilly and of the Underworld. How could I have forgotten such things? What I had just seen behind my closed eyes suddenly made everything clear, I had what I wanted; my memory had been restored. Yet how could I be happy knowing Lilly was going to die? What had I been thinking in asking to be sent down here so I could suffer the agonies of watching her fade?

  "Can't you help me Cane?" I wailed.

  Was he still there? I stared at the empty chair by the fire. No, I didn't think he was. I let my shoes sink deep into the plush red carpet as I stood and wondered what to do next. There was a note from Dylan on the table by the fire telling me the room was reserved for the next week and I should use it as I saw fit. There was a brass key lying on top of it. The fact that it was for one week only made my heart lurch sickeningly. One week. One week was all that Lilly had left.

  A glance at the clock on the mantle told me that it was now 6pm, just enough time for me get back to your flat before I was to meet Lilly in the Last Drop.

  As I left the room the bust of Queen Victoria watched me with piercing marble eyes from her place on the dresser. I wondered what else was watching me as I left the Witchery. I knew now Cane had always been there, watching silently, powerlessly, trying to offer guidance in the only way he could while standing back as I made a mess of things. I told myself as I hurried back down the mile that what I was and where I had come from did not matter at all. What mattered, I reasoned, was that I fulfil the purpose I had come here for; ultimately to make Lilly happy. But a week was such a tiny amount of time. Not even Lilly, who was expecting death, was expecting it so soon. Her doctors had predicted she would have at least a few months left. I knew differently. The mark on her collar bone had said a week. Yet how would it happen? The exact mechanics of it seemed to be the only thing I could not remember.

  Back at the flat I burst through the door and you had, it seemed, been awaiting my arrival, you were eager to hear how I had got on in making up with Lilly. I started to tell you great, that we had worked things out, that she believed me about the cult and no longer thought I was a dangerous stalker but then I remembered; you didn't know. It seemed a life time had passed since I had sat in that sunny living room and listened to her tell me of the thing that was growing inside of her brain, the dark seed that I had planted that was drawing on her life resources and would eventually stifle the pretty light that was her life. I hesitated, unable to decide if I should tell you or not.

  "Winter?" I was aware that I had stopped talking mid sentence.

  "Sorry, yes, so things are good, I can't explain it Caroline, I love her so much already." It was not my place to tell you. I'm sorry Caroline, that I kept this from you for so long, but time was short and there was already enough misery, if I had have started talking about it then to you I would have descended into despair once more. I wanted to concentrate on the positives for what time remained.

  "She would like to meet you," I said enthusiastically, "We are going for dinner and a few drinks this evening, we were hoping you could join us if you haven't already made plans?"

  "I'd love to Winter," you beamed.

  "Well we had better hurry," I said glancing at the clock, "I'm supposed to meet her in an hour."

  In the taxi (we were running behind schedule and it was clear wen would not make it on time if we walked) you were like an anxious mother about to meet her sons girlfriend for the first time. You weren't worried anymore about anything. You thought I was rebuilding my life. You had no idea how short time was for me and Lilly.

  We reached The Last Drop, a quaint little bar down past the cow gate on the site where the old gallows used to be, and you tipped the driver before we got out.

  "Ten minutes late," I remarked, "She'll probably already be here."

  Inside the building it was dim and low ceilinged, a lot more earthy that The Witchery. There were boards giving information about the gallows and the hangings that had taken place there and there was traditional horse brasses on the ceiling beams. Everything was dark wood and panels and behind the bar countless foreign bank notes adorned the back wall, a proud boasting book of all the people who had visited from far flung corners of the world.

  At a booth, where a candle burned in an empty wine bottle on the table, I spotted Lilly.

  "Is that her?" you nodded in her direction, she was looking at a menu and had not seen us come in.

  "Yes, that's Lilly." her red hair fell in soft waves around her face and was pinned back behind her ear with a White lily. Her slender, swan like frame was draped with elegant red silk and every movement she made, even when it was simply to put down the menu, was graceful as though it had been carefully rehearsed.

  "She's beautiful Winter," even you were taken aback by the piece of art that sat in that dim booth like some beautifully painted porcelain figure.

  "Lilly," I called and she turned her pretty face to us and smiled.

  She rose in a movement that was fluid and seamless and extended a White hand with perfect red nails, "You must be Caroline, Winter talks about you a lot."

  Your cheeks turned red as you took her hand and muttered a shy "lovely to meet you" before we took our seats, me next to Lilly and you opposite us.

  The evening was pleasant. The food was not as fine as The Witchery but just as good in it's own rustic, traditional way. As the wine flowed we all began to relax a little more in each others company and soon we were chatting and laughing like we were old friends.

  "What a perfect couple you make," you remarked, "You would think you had been together for years. And you look so lovely next to each other there, would you mind if I took a picture?"

  You still have that picture, don't you Caroline? It's on the mantle in a silver frame; two people who you knew only briefly but who touched the rest of your life so that you would never forget us. Sometimes you light a candle there don't you Caroline as you pray that one day I will return. I wonder, now that you know the truth, if you are so eager to see me again. Time will tell.

  As the evening drew on you announced that you were getting tired and should really be heading back. You wanted to give us some time alone and I was grateful once again for your perceptiveness. Time alone was what I needed for and idea had been forming in my head throughout the evening.

  We settled up the bill and bid you goodnight. I told you I would most likely be staying at Lilly's that night so not to wait up for me.

  "Let's go for a walk Lilly," I suggested.

  I helped her into her fur and led her out into the night. It was a beautiful, frosty evening and the stars peppered the sky above the lights of the city. The lights sparkled
below us as we sat on the ramparts in the shadow of the great castle that had watched over Edinburgh for centuries.

  "It's kind of comforting isn't it?" she said as she gazed at the castle, she was leaning on the wall now and I stood behind her, my arms around her, my head on her shoulder, "to think that this castle will probably be here for centuries to come. Long after I'm gone it'll still be here. It gives me a sense of timelessness. If only everything was like that."

  "Well our bodies may not be eternal, like this volcanic hill and they may not last for centuries like the castle that sits on it, but I know something that will never die and will still be there even after that castle has crumbled."

  "What?"

  "My love for you."

  She turned to face me.

  "Oh Winter," She sighed, "But if my body is not here to know your love what good will it do?"

  "Because you have a soul and I have a soul and my soul has always loved you and always will. Lilly, I think we should cement this love so that we can always find each other again, so that our souls will never forget and no matter where we are we will find each other again and our souls will remember how we love each other."