The love of an Alexander.

[Darren]

The small flame shuddered and quivered as a light current of air sneaked in through the open window where the candle was sitting in its pane. The sweet smell of vanilla wafted through the private study of Alexander Kanashia, and filled the room with the familiar fragrance.

"Eight years now," came the relaxed voice of the romani male. The words said for the candle, which had been burning strong now for six months. The fourteen inch glass tube, which was to two inches in diameter, was filled with a white coloured wax. It was reaching the bottom though, and he would have to buy a new candle.

Vanilla. It reminded him of her. Meranth Deverall.

"Does time really fly by that slowly?" he questioned the air, as emerald eyes watched the flame dance around. Eight years since he had started to light the candle every night before he retired to bed, and it would burn for the entirety of the night; waiting for him to come back and blow it out the next morning.

Eight years since she left. He can remember the last night he saw her so vividly...

"Are you sure you do not want me to accompany you?" questioned Alex, staring up at the face of the beauty before him from his kneel before her feet.

"Please, Alexander... Do you not trust me? He's a businesman, and a noble, he would not dare harm me when my own dealings work so closely to his own."

She always looked as if she was going to break by a single touch; the fragility and delicateness of her slender, matured form. She smelled of vanilla - Alexander could never forget that scent, that divine fragrance that accompanied her in every step. A jealous Alex, never wanting anyone else to have her attentions but him.

"How can you be certain? He's tried killing you before, and I'm almost certain that he would try again so that he could gain possession of... us." The taste of the words were bitter on the tongue of a younger Kanashia. At twenty-one, the romani had developed into a fine warrior. He was his her guardian, and a job that he did not take lightly.

Alexander's breath was caught in her sigh. The exhalation of air through her soft lips. And he reigned, a nod of his head.

"Yes, you're right. I'm worrying over nothing. May your endeavors go well, Mistress."

Meranth Deverall smiled, and curled her fingers around the sinewy jaw of Kanashia, lifting those wonderful green eyes onto the blues of her own. She was in love with those eyes.

"If you are so worried, Kanashia, then do something for me. Every night I am gone, light a candle in the window until I return. As long as it burns through the night, you'll know I'm still with you." With her words, she pressed a delicate kiss on his right brow. "Goodnight, Kanashia. I love you, and I'll be back. You're in charge of the others until my return. I trust you with their lives."

"Of course, Mistress, I would not let you down."

She left in a horse-drawn carriage that same night, and after she left he had lit a candle.

Eight years and she still hasn't returned, eight years and the candles still burn every night in wait.

Eight years, and he has kept his promise - he still watches over the people whom she entrusted him with, though there was a four year absence in which Aradil watched the slaves while he spent four years in the Thessilane military.

Eight years, and he still loves her.

"You're not coming back, are you, Mistress?" The voice of defeat, yet in his heart, he knew that she was never going to return to him when she had first left.

Standing over the window, now, hands were placed upon the pane and he leaned against it, face hovering over the candle.

"Goodnight, and goodbye, Mistress." And with a light breath, the candle was extinguished before the morning had come. A small smile curled along the face of Alexander as he walked to the velvet chair in the centre of the study.

The events of the past week, the Captain of the Guard, and the duty of caring and loving for those whom Meranth placed into his hands and have given him the utmost love and respect. He could no longer cling to past demons; however, her vanilla scent would always remain.

[Darren]

Her cries pierced the air, and filled the night with the sounds of misery, suffering. The source of her pain? It was the gaunt, harsh looking male standing with his fingers curled tightly around a chain. Alexander, who stood a distance from the man and the slave. A stolen slave.

"Gaiken, let her go." Alexander's tone was sharp, demanding of the raven-haired 'slave' in front of him.

"And who are you to tell me what to do, Alex?"

"Mistress put me in charge, Gaiken. The bracelet on your arm proves your her property, and that I am responsible for it. That means responsible for you, and Alaina." Alaina was obviously the blonde whom was at the end of the chain, crumpled on the muddy, wet ground. Rain was pouring from the black, cloudy sky that loomed over their heads.

Kanashia unsheathed the two swords at his hips.

"Alex, get those thoughts out of your head. She's dead." A crack of lightning and the roar of thunder followed the statement.

It was hard to tell if those were tears that spilled from his emerald eyes, or just the rain that soaked them.

He wanted desperately to cry out that Gaiken was wrong, that he was lying and the candle was proof she would return. He was stupid in believing that, delusional and love-sick. In the back of his mind, Alexander knew how wrong he was in thinking she would return, it had been two years since she left.

"And that candle?" the gaunt, raven-haired slave continued. "It's just foolish, Alex. Open your damn eyes. She's gone, and we're free. We don't have to stay under you, or in this place anymore. Why do you keep the slaves here, claiming that you're watching out for us--them?" Gaiken had been Alexander's first friend when Meranth had first brought him home from the auction block. That was ten years ago.

The two feuded over her attentions when they were both old enough to understand the love they had for their Mistress. She had favored Alex, and Gaiken resented him for it, and resented Meranth. Now that she was gone, it was time for him to kill Kanashia.

"Gaiken. Let Alaina go," was all Alexander said as the lightning continued to light the area where they stood. They shouted over the rain and the thunder. Rain causing the fabrics of Alex's shirt to cling to him, while the leather that Gaiken wore creaked with every movement and became tight.

"No, Alex. It stops here, your delusions of being a Master for Meranth. This is life, and this is death."

In Gaiken's other hand was a rapier, which he used to make a cut along Alaina's throat. She cried and squirmed, but Gaiken was too strong, and she gurgled and whined as the blood left her body.

And something inside of Alex snapped. Self-control, the conditioning of his person, it all left him and the instinct to avenge, to kill, took over. He raised both swords and yelled his anger, rushing towards Gaiken.

"That's right, Alexander! You want to kill me, because I am showing you who you truly are. A psycho, a delusionist. You had nothing to offer."

Gaiken raised the rapier and used it to parry the unaimed attacks of Alexander, and bounced back. More thrusts and swings from both combatants, and with every might blow came a streak of lightning as God serenaded the warriors with the fury of the Creation.

Alexander made a strike to the left with his second-hand, which fooled Gaiken into parrying to that direction, and left him open for an arc of the right which caught him at his waist. The swords buried itself half-way into the person of Gaiken, but the dying warrior would not leave without leaving his own mark.

The leather-adorned warrior grinned as blood began to leak from the corners of his mouth and the wound caused by Alex's sword. Suddenly, a jab from Gaiken, and Alexander could feel the steel pierce his stomach and jut out of his back. The two were going to kill one another.

"I'll see you in Hell, Alexander," was the final words of Gaiken before he fell limp against Alex's sword, which was now dropped, and it sent the corpse to the ground next to Alaina.

The other sword was dropped, and Kanashia took a step backwards, then another before he slipped and fell onto his back and pushed the sword up. The next thing he knew was blackness.

However...

"Mistress!" cried Kanashia as the blackness ended and his eyes shot open. His bare body was being bathed by the sun, and when his eyes adjusted, and his heart had stopped its erratic flutter, he saw that he was laying on a grass knoll. He turned to look behind him, and saw two mounds of dirt, graves, and a figure standing over them with a shovel.

"Good morning, Kanashia."

A familiar voice, Aradil's. The emerald gaze focused on the figure, and he took in the features of the light-skinned, blonde elf. Dressed in a loose silk shirt and pants of hide, the barefooted, beautiful creature smiled to Alexander.

"I'm glad you were able to heal. Gaiken almost ended your life back there, and you know Meranth would not want to see you die. I have buried both of them, and a pity the girl had to die. She was beautiful, caring, much like Meranth herself. Come, Kanashia, let's go back. You need rest, and you need to explain to the others why Gaiken and Alaina is dead."

Kanashia still bears the scar where Gaiken stabbed him to this day.

[Darren]

The blonde-haired girl pressed her cheek against the open palm of Kanashia. The dining room had a long, oak table in its centre with two doors leading into it. The backdoor led to the kitchen, while the main door led people from the rest of the house into the dining room.

Windows were scattered along its western wall, overlooking the city of Myrken Wood. He would spend hours sitting and watching the workings of the city from his place at the headchair of the dining table, the only one that was placed at the end of a table. That was the only thing to set it off from the rest of the wooden, velvet-cushioned chairs that lined the two sides of the table. Eight seats to a side, it would fit seventeen people; the amount accustom to attending when on a business meeting occured.

He was at the head chair now, a hand - calloused from the years of sword usage - ran along the face and through the golden locks of hair of the girl. She was dressed in fine linen, and looked to be in excellent health; as all of them were.

A man entered through the northern door, the one that proved the way to the rest of the three-story estate. He immediately approached Kanashia, the girl's blue eyes and his emeralds never looking the new arrival.

"Master," he said as he bowed his head and offered a leather pouch towards him. "This is the shillings requested for the three men who had sent to escort the noble, Mrs. Ganthe."

The pouch, small and sturdy, heavy from the amount of shillings, was taken from the younger man and sat down in front of him on the table. "Did she say an exact amount?" asked Alexander.

"300 shillings as promised, and she kept one of the man - a new arrival to the estate, sir, saying you gave her permission to allow him to learn her own living arrangements."

A nod from Kanashia, as the hand that took the pouch came to stroke fingers along his chin. "So the male agreed to decide between staying with us or her?"

"Yes, sir. She would pay hefty for his own services, he's a brave young fighter and skilled with people."

"Mm." His face softened, and the blonde looked up at him and gave him a warm smile and moved her head from his hand and laid it on his knee. The loving action told Kanashia she would not leave him.

A nod given to her, then attentions lifted to the man again. "Tell her that I expect nothing less than another 300 shillings. I would not expect her to offer any less for one of her own. As long as he consents, I can see nothing wrong with the transaction. I'll speak to him before the collar trades hands, though."

A firm nod from the boy and he turned from Kanashia's presence, and left him and the blonde alone in the dining room again. This was business; the business of people's lives.

[Darren]

Night fell on the city of myrken, and while every one else buried themselves deep into their beds, and lost themselves to healthy slumber, a man was still awake. Like most nobles and officials, he spent long nights whittling away at the stack of papers that demanded daily attention. It was no different than how it was before he became Captain of the Guard, except now responsibility was expected of him, and the stack had doubled in size.

It was not like he wished to sleep. Nightmares plagued his dreams, though not every night; it was selected few. Voices and words that plagued his mind picked and chose the proper times to invade his slumber, and it was always when he needed the sleep most.

Even when he was curled up next to Lamai a night ago, they had invaded his thoughts. It was more of a 'him', than a 'they.' The venomous tones of the raven-haired man struck his dreams. Just like now, when he was finally accepting the fact he needed sleep.

Alexander looked up from his desk, away from the papers which strained his eyes with their inked writings, and towards the crescent moon looming outside of the window of his estate.

A shake of his head, and he pushed the seat back away from the oak desk, and started off towards bed. He was done with business for the night.

Now, during his sleep, the dream was serene. A blanket of calm spread over his conscious, a needed break from the hellacious onslaughts of the chuckling voice.

A beautiful green knoll was the place of this dream. It was a familiar place, and two mounds of dirt marked the area next to a proud maple tree. It was the graves of Gaiken and Alaina. On the grave to the left, the girl's, was a bouquet of roses. Standing over them was Alexander, and a smile was spread over those thin lips.

"Do you enjoy heaven, Alaina?" the white-haired Captain asked.

~Do you enjoy hell, Alexander?~ a voice answered back. It was not Alaina's, no -- it was male, and ... Gaiken's.

Alexander's eyes widened, and they shifted their attentions towards the mound of dirt next to Alaina's. Three seconds before, it was filled with dirt, but now, when he looked at the grave, it was now an unfilled hole. Six feet deep, he couldn't see all the way down it. He was afraid to. The voice continued.

~Come now, don't by shy. Take a peek, come see the man you had... killed.~

A snarl of his upper lip, and booted feet stepped over towards the hole. A look was given to the blue sky above, before slowly, he looked down into the grave.

Braided hair veiled the lean face of the man before him. Pale, a major contrast to the tanned skin the man had before. White hair wa snow stained with dirt, become dirty and grey. Eyes were closed, but he didn't need to see them, he already knew. He was looking at himself, down in that grave.

"Why are haunting me, Gaiken?! What do you want from me?!" cried Alexander as he spun around on his heels, searching for the source of the voices plaguing him.

~Here I am, Alexander...~ it was behind him. He turned back to the direction of the grave, and hovering above it was the slender, leather-adorned form of Gaiken. The raven locks fell around his face, veiling the pale visage that stared at Alexander now.

"Why are doing this to me? Why can't you just leave me alone?!"

~You're a whiner, Alexander. You whine too much. Do those around you know how desperate you are? Do they see the immaturity inside of you trying to claw its way out? You wanting to be loved, wanting to be first, not understanding the world that's truly around you.~

Kanashia bared his teeth again, and moved his hands to reach for hilts that were not that there. A small noise of irritation, and he stepped forward towards the hovering form of Gaiken. The ground at his feet was wet, and when he looked down, he saw the source. Where the hole once was empty, now it was filled with rich, crimson liquid, and was overflowing over the ground. So much blood.

~This is blood that you've spilt, Kanashia. Not me. If you look hard, you'll find mine... and Alaina's.~

"I never killed Alaina," countered Alexander. "You did."

"Did I?" A dismissive shrug from the slender shoulders of Gaiken, before a finger pointed over Alex's shoulder. Slowly, he turned, to face what Gaiken gestured. It was Alaina, in what looked like perfect health.

"Alaina?" Alexander asked.

"Oh, Alex... where was you when I needed you?" Her voice was melodious, a drastic, and favorable change over the venom that was Gaiken's.

"I couldn't save you, Alaina."

"Why not, Alex? You saw the blade at my throat. You stood there, like you were helpness."

"He would of killed you anyway."

"You didn't do anything to help me!"

"There was nothing I could do!"

"Stop it, Alexander. Stop thinking there is 'nothing' that can be done. You had a chance to save me. You didn't take it. Why were you afraid to slay Gaiken? Is it because you know that the Mistress loved him more? Were you afraid to anger her? She's dead, Alex. I'm dead, but Gaiken..."

And the voice trailed off, leving it's tainted honey lingering on his ears. It lingered still, when the emerald eyes of Alexander shot open and he jerked up from the bed of pillows and silk sheets. Sweat glistened on his form, and he chest quivered with nervous breath.

That was the second time in a row he's had that dream.

[Darren]

The line between dreams and reality had become blurred over the years. The voices of Gaiken were gone, if only because of the presence of the healer, and his own will exerted over his brother. However, there were new feelings, and one could be sure that they stemmed from the lifeless eyes that stared at him through the mirror.

Fields of green, deep in their emerald colour--though without their vivacious flare. The depths were solemn, weak, and free of any true emotion. Like dull orbs they would only stare, no registration of thought in those eyes.

The features of the prince then took shape over his own. They would shift, and transform in such a manner where it would of been unnoticed. Like in a blink of an eye, there was another figure in that mirror. A hiss from Alexander, and he looked down to the basin of water--no, ....of blood.

A scream echoed out in his mind, but did not pass his lips. Silence echoed in the night as he jerked awake next to the healer. She squirmed against him, before he realized it was just a dream.