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A Curse for the Price of Love - Chapter 1

A mythical tale that will transport you to another world, deep in the past of a foreign land. Romance, action and a tale that is so heart-wrenching it'll hurt to read. 'A Curse for the Price of Love' will be the best story I've ever written.
"I just don't know if I can do this!" The young woman screamed at the man trying to hold her hand.

I back peddled and curiously peeked around the corner. I watched as they argued about God knows what and rolled my eyes when they suddenly fell into a passionate embrace. Does everything have to be like a Hollywood romance movie?

"Figures," I huffed and shoved my hands into my pockets. "I thought something interesting was going to happen."

I looked up at the sky and took a deep breath, turning on his heels and he began to walk back in the direction he came. Obviously I wasn't going to pass by that couple, that'd just be extremely awkward.

The wind blew gently and the trees responded by creating a soft ruffling sound that filled my ears.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out a cigarette, lighting it swiftly and taking a long drag. I coughed a bit and flicked the cigarette away. "Never liked the damn things anyway." I said as I tugged a pamphlet from my back pocket and checked the time for the blooming.

There was an annual festival for these rare exotic flowers that bloomed called "Midlight" there was of course, a myth connected to the Midlights that was heart-wrenching to say the least.

Midlights were oddly colored most would say. They're an interesting combination of ruby-red, violet, with a dash of electric blue in the middle. Niles pulled out a tiny brown leather book from his left pocket and flipped through the pages until he came upon the myth of the Midlights. He looked around and found a metal bench, he situated himself and began to read the strangely loopy text.

Once, a very long time ago, there were two people. A woman named Arya, and a man named Kishan. They were to be married when they came of age, this they already knew. They had met on occasion, but they were never alone, for the families never wanted a blush about their names. Since they were offspring of an extremely rare bloodline, they were protected fiercely. They lived a couple of days ride from each other, and would often travel to each other's kingdoms. The people of both their kingdoms approved of the joining of the kingdoms and didn't shy away from hiding it. They would scream their love as Kishan rode beside Arya on an Arabian black horse. She was the most beautiful woman, maybe in the world. She had an elegant jawline and high cheekbones. Her eyebrows were beautifully arched and her lips were full and stained red, as if she had just exchanged a passionate kiss. Her long onyx hair was simply braided and lay upon her straight spine. Her skin which was olive tanned shone with a certain shine that displayed youth and good health.

Kishan would often catch himself in a daze as he was blinded by her beauty. He never thought much of his own looks though, and of that Arya could think more of. She would often find herself with a constant blush whenever he glanced her way. When she was younger she didn't understand why she was to be married to a complete stranger and so she refused to see him, or even acknowledge she was already made to be married. She had tried to hate him, to hate his dimples and his lightly colored eyes, but soon she found herself in love with him. She had managed to secretly gather a painting of him. She would pull it out from a secret compartment in her drawer and stare at it all night. He had a strong jawline and light cobalt eyes, she sometimes thought she saw violet around his pupil, but could never be sure. She was also tentative around him, never straying too far but never coming too close. She would not taint her good name, or his for that matter.

Everything changed on the night before their marriage. They were throwing a huge celebration in Kishan's kingdom to celebrate the joining of the kingdoms. The wine was flowing and there was not one unhappy soul in the entire kingdom. Everyone danced around the fires and threw beautiful flowers around each other's neck, representing unity and acceptance of the joining.

Arya had danced with many of the people and had decided to take a seat further away from the festivities, shooing away her always present guards as their presence was not needed in such a friendly atmosphere. Kishan had seen her sitting alone, apart from the festivities and approached her hesitantly. He had tried to stay away from her but the anticipation of tomorrow was overwhelming and he felt that he needed to escape, to finally be able to have a moment alone with her. She smiled at him shyly as he held out his hand and gestured towards the forest behind them. She furrowed her brow and shook her head no. He smirked and grabbed her hand, tugging her gently to her feet. She stumbled along beside him as they ran down the dirt path in the forest. Their laughs soon began to fill the silent forest and finally they came upon an open field, which was filled with the alluring scent of Midlights. They rarely came into bloom, especially in this time of the summer. Arya reached down and plucked one from the earth, holding it under her nose and taking a long wift.
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Published: 9/25/2012
Bouquets and Brickbats