• Running, running; her feet moved swiftly through the groves of trees. The sound of hungry hounds and screaming soldiers edged her on, her breath heavy as she moved with the heavy dress upon her person. The only thought was to reach the safety of the forest that was within her reach. "Unchain the dogs!" "Quickly, before we lose her!" The general yelled as his men halted and released the dogs from their chains. With no restraint they hunted after the girl. The distance between her and her hunters was considerable as she dodged and weaved through the trees and brush. Pieces of her white gown torn and dirty form the chase. She ducked into a small marsh and looked around. It was dark and foggy, the trees and over growth leaning over the water ways and swamps as if to protect or hide those who try to find a haven within them. She looked back and listened intensely for the dogs as she looked for something, anything to weigh her down in the black waters. The dogs raced through the forest fallowing her trail. Their howls and barks increasing as the soldiers tat fallowed them began to ready their weapons. As they neared the marsh that hid her they came to a standing halt, growling at the darkness their tails between their legs. The soldiers were confused as they took aim at the abyss, when a powerful feeling of despair took over and forced the dogs to turn the other way, whining in fear. The soldiers looked at each other as they began to approach with caution. "What happened to the dogs?" the general looked at his men as they looked towards the dark marshes. "She belongs to them now. Fall back!" he barked as he trotted away on his horse as his men fallowed. Hours passed before the girl rose form the black waters in deathly silence. She looked around for a few more hours before she completely emerged for the black waters. She sat on the banks looking back at what she ran away from. The impressive mansion that sat at the wake of a vineyard and olive grove; windows glowing with the finer things of life and luxuries. What remained of that life was but a sliver pendent that dangled from her long neck resting on her chest. Weary, she supported herself along the limb of a massive sequoia tree and began to walk deeper into the foggy unknown that was the princess forest. As she made it along the path of winding roots, she heard a loud boom. Turning around she saw the mansion a-blaze in a red and all-consuming fire. Yellow flames spewed from the windows Turning around she saw the mansion a-blaze in a red and all-consuming fire. Yellow flames spewed from the windows and doors of the once beautiful mansion. Tears streamed from her eyes as she heard the screams and moans of the servants trapped inside the burning inferno; however there was one scream above all else that sent shivers of a deep and pending fear into her young heart. A deep bellowing cry was heard as she looked into the flames and saw the figure of a man standing in the fire. His screams reaching the heavens as he reached up with his hands. "SONYA!" his cries echoed a longing, and passionate hatred as the girl quivered at the call of her name. However, she gathered her strength and continued to trudge through the forest. Trying to find her way back to the home she once knew.

    The next few days the fire dies down. And with the quick work of the militia, the mansion was slowly being repaired to anew. On the other wing that wasn't touched by the flames, a young man in his mid-twenties laid in a lavish chamber or auburn and gold. His arms and a part of his torso were severely burnt; as the chamber maids redressed and placed ointment on his burns. His dull grey eyes looking blankly into the mural on the ceiling, ignoring the pain in his body. His skin drenched with sweat, his now sliver hair matted on the pillow, the maids finished dressing him as the general of his militia walked in his eyes lowered to the floor. "The girl... Sonya escaped from us." "Escaped?" "Yes..." the general became plagued with uneasiness, as the man sat in front of the window looking to the depths of the forest.” She fled into the marshes last night, I fear the willows have he-" the young man fell into a great laughing as he placed his half burnt hand on the glass. "If I could not contain her, what makes it logical that the willows can do better?" his voice deep with experience as he turned and looked to the general with cold and empty eyes. "Send out the death walkers. I want her returned to me at any cost." the general shuddered silently as she bowed his head and left the young man in his silence. His nails leaving claw marks in the glass, gritting his teeth in agony as he mumbled to himself. "Why? Why did it have to end like this, how did this happen?" his voice quaked as he looked over to his now empty bed seeing the ghost of Sonya lying beside him. And soon he found himself five years in the past on that night, that hour when he first laid eyes on her. That night, that last night of the winter solstice where his family threw the most lavished ball of the season. The white rose dance. Then he was but a youth entering his prime. A handsome established lord of the land, with the inheritance of fine exports, and plenty when it came to the choosing of pretty maidens. His hair was slicker and soft with the coal tresses of his late father and eyes the grey hue of his dear mother. That year the profits the exports had made were at an all-time rise, the lands of where he lived experienced the richest in its history of peace and international relations; and he himself was closing in on an engagement to one of the oldest and most established clans in the valley lands. In his eyes the world could not be any more perfect. The servants hastened their work placing up the decorations and dressing the tables and gardens with lights and adornments made of white pearl and gold. With his mother keeping watch over all of them. She was of woman of small build and impenitent stature. She ruled over her home with an iron fist as she drills her servants and grounds keepers to move faster. Her once light brown hair showed its age with deep set hues of white and sliver. And the deep color that was once a deep hazel dulled into nothing more than an evervescent brown. As she strutted around with her cane at hand, her long Victorian dress was stiff and uniform. The only colors to grace her presence were the widow hues of black and grey. Her hair tied in a tight bun and her hands firm on her cane; she kept order in her house-hold. "Alexander has you sent the invitations as I told you?" she spoke in a soft but strict tone as he entered the almost complete ball room. "Mother, it is good to see you out and about." he gave her a kiss and gave her a bouquet of white daffodils. She smelled them then looked to her son grinning ear to ear. What are you up to my son?" "Mother? I'm hurt, why is it that when I give you gifts I am suspect for mischief?" he looked surprised as he smiled even more scratching his head. She saw the light in his eyes and gave him a look of irritation. With a quick motion of his hand he went into his coat pocket and pulled out a letter with the Markov seal in place. "Markov... Very exclusive." she read the letter as her son danced around the room. "It's all coming together mother, soon I will marry Cataluña, the most beautiful girl in the Valleys." he sang as his mother read the letter through and through. "Alexander, it seems that you will be married but to which one is yet to be known." she said handing him back the letter. "Mother you have little faith." He sung as she handed back the letter from the Markov family. "I and Cataluña are in love. No one can ignore that." He smiled as he placed the letter back into his coat pocket and strolled happily into the grand halls towards his own wing of the mansion. As he walked by the setting sun he stopped and looked out the massive bay windows, watching as the gardeners plant the new rose bushes and white orchids. "Something troubling you, young master?" an old butler slowly walked up to him as he stood at the window. He was an old man in his early twilight years, short in stature with white fading hair and translucent blue eyes. He smiled weakly at the young man as he looked at him then back to the window. "Something my mother brought to my attention… that I may not be able to marry my beloved Cataluña." "Does it bother you that it may not be her?" "It’s not that it could not be my Cataluña. It's the matter of that she never told me she had a sister." He spoke as he walked to his room with his butler by his side, preparing for the ball about to take place.