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@}-- Act I
@}-- Act II
@}-- Act III
@}-- Act IV
@}-- Act V
@}-- Act VI
@}-- Act VII
@}-- Act VIII
@}-- Act IX
@}-- Act X
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Letters from the Heart, Act VIII

“As I stand here as well, but we both know this is not the time nor the place, for either to act would be simple bravado, not what a knight true seeks. One day, we shall meet across the field, and when sword meets sword, I shall meet you with honor, as I have met those before.”

Lucien could hear Lord Bruce, the leader of the Knights of Noctura, speaking as he entered Serenade Tavern. He had been gone for months again, and although his confession to Celesta had lightened his heart, it was heavy once more. He had been gone for so long that he was afraid Celesta had given up on seeing him again.

“Because that taste is the taste of my lips,” one gentleman said to Edgar. Lucien recognized him as Roarke, who was a Black Knight of the Realm. He watched as Roarke smirked and brought his attention back to Lord Bruce and laugh. “So, you seek the truth with a blade, do you?” He smiled again and looked over at Edgar. “I understand the bi-product.”

Edgar glanced at Lucien and nodded slightly. He folded his arms against his chest, then shook his head slightly. “She has the right to choose who she wishes. I do not see her hiding from me when I enter.”

Now Lucien knew what they were talking about: Celesta. He hmmd his doubt to himself at Edgar’s words. Every time that he had seen Edgar and Celesta together since his return he hovered over her constantly and kept all other men at bay. He even went so far as to say that he and Celesta had spent time together alone in one of Lord Bruce’s cabins in the mountains. He remembered his shock at Edgar’s casual statement and Celesta’s ire for announcing such a thing. She had professed that she and Edgar had done nothing indecent and Lucien believed her. Still…to say such a daring statement and potentially sully a woman’s virtue…

“’Tis much like swallowing a prune as truth. Your men quickly turn to soft waste.” Roarke looked over at Edgar yet again.

Lucien was convinced at this point that Roarke was unaware of him being a Knight of Noctura. No matter. It gave him the opportunity to listen and learn.

“Ah, none should seek truth with a blade, but one should also not turn form it when no other option is given. When the field is taken, the blade is drawn. In other times, words would suffice. You have not been accosted, only reminded of the laws of this city,” Lord Bruce said quietly. “As for my men, honest and true, they shall stand when their time of judgment comes.”

Lucien raised an eyebrow and looked about the room. He had the distinct impression that this was something beyond what he should be involved in. He spotted Celesta at a table near the door, trying to go unnoticed. It seemed to be working for all eyes were on the three knights.

He stood up from his seat and walked over to her, trying to be discrete. “It is good to see you, Lady Celesta.”

Lucien tried to ignore the conversation going on around him, but it was hard to do when the topic of the discussion was right in front of him. He could sense a power struggle between Roarke and Edgar and he knew that Celesta was at the center of it.

Celesta looked at Lucien like a cat with its tail caught under the rocking chair, her eyes pleading. She moved to put her cloak back on, realizing that her first idea was and still is the best: a sojourn.

Roarke said quietly in a faintly mocking tone as he spied Celesta putting on her cloak, “Fly, fly, fly, Lady Celesta, and those fearing the truth shall flee so that others may be set free.” He looked back at Lord Bruce.

Lucien looked over at Roarke, then back at Celesta. “Lady Celesta?” He was confused, then it dawned on him. “W-where are you going?”

Edgar looked at Roarke and just smiled. “What truth? That you can not handle treating a lady as she should be treated?”

Lord Bruce then spoke. “Aha, this lady was once involved with you? Sir Edgar, the easiest way to get into some men’s armor is if a slit is provided. Provide not this slit and the blade will be turned.”

Edgar looked away from Roarke and over to Lord Bruce. “Not once, Sir. Is still.”

Lucien scarcely heard a word that Lord Bruce, Edgar, and Roarke spoke. His full attention was on Celesta. “M’lady, what is wrong?”

Celesta moved again to the door, feeling in a spot. “I…feel a trip is necessary, Sir Lucien.”

Lucien trailed after her. “Where will you go?” When she didn’t respond he suggested hesitantly, “You could go to S’ran. Or Renwold…”

Roarke realized that Celesta was trying to leave and broke away from the argument to approach her. “Celesta,” he began, “we have been seeking truth here. Answer me but one question: Have I treated you poorly, as suggested?”

Celesta turned and narrowed her eyes. She knew the truth. She knew all about his ‘ways.’ She moved forward towards him. She moved so fast that her hair fluttered behind her like a banner of contempt. She jabbed as finger into his chest. “Who are you to speak to me, ‘Sir’ Roarke? Did Shyla let you off the leash to come play ‘piss’ on the tables of Serenade? Hmm?” Anger, rarely seen in her eyes, flashed like lightning.

Roarke looked taken aback. “Pardon? Shyla holds no leash.” He gave her a confused look.

Lord Bruce turned to Celesta. “M’lady, angry you may be, but calm yourself. The man may speak freely. He has committed no crime against the city and is only in discussion. To retort to his jibes is to allow him access deeper. Mark that and remember.”

Celesta didn’t seem to hear him. Her attention was focused solely on Roarke. “Aye, then you were able to reach the key to your cage, I presume. You were never directly mean or cruel no, but you went to a much deeper level of deceit. Good day, Roarke.”

Roarke looked at Celesta earnestly. “M’lady, a parting thought…”

Celesta looked at Roarke as if she despised him. “I have nothing more to say to you, Roarke. I wish to hear naught of what you have to say to me, either. I thought you were different but you are just like the rest: a man who only wanted me as a prize.”

“Believe not the words of others, for they shall mislead, “ Roarke begged. “I have spoken nothing but purity to you.”

“Good day, Roarke.” Celesta exited the tavern, slamming the door behind her so hard that it rattled the pictures.

Roarke lowered his head. “And so the trap is set and I its foolish pray. There is nothing to do but what must be done.”

Lucien looked from Roarke, to Edgar, and finally to Lord Bruce before saying, “Ah, I shall see if she is alright.” He bowed to Lord Bruce and exited the tavern quickly. He hastened down the road after Celesta. “Lady Celesta! Wait!”

Celesta paused and turned back, dashing her cheek to be devoid of tears, to see who called out to her. “No! Lucien, do not look upon me! I know what you must be thinking: that I kiss everyone that smiles at me and that I am nothing short of a common tavern wench!” She began to bawl like a heartbroken child.

“No! No! Of course not!” He hastened to Celesta’s side and hesitantly put a comforting arm about her shoulders. “The thought never entered my mind, m’lady.”

Celesta grabbed him into a hug. “I am so sorry!” she sobbed. “I-I…n-never meant to hurt you!”

“Coyly flirting with men is completely different than giving a different man you body every night. You are nothing like that.” Lucien let out a heavy sigh and wrapped his arms about her. “There is no reason for you to be sorry. You did not hurt me. I hurt myself…”

Celesta buried her face into the curve of his neck, avoiding his eyes. She couldn’t bear to look at him. She tried to speak again, but began to sob instead.

“Shh. There, there, now.” He rubbed her back gently. “All will be well. Regardless of the decision that you make, you must think of yourself right now.”

Celesta guided a hand through the hair at the nape of his neck and turned her head to the side, pressing her cheek to his shoulder. “What am I to do but leave? I have no other choices…”

Do you feel that perhaps you need time away from Edgar and the other gentlemen?”

Celesta held him tightly, shaking and trembling. “Most all I touch turns to rot.”

Lucien swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat. As much as he didn’t want to say them, he forced the words out. “Then, perhaps a sojourn would be best… Go out and see the world. Find yourself and what you want out of life. The Gods alone know how much I needed it. Now look at me: I am far from home, I am now a Knight-Errant, I have made friends with a Dwarf, a Gnome, even a Drow…and I had the privilege and honor of meeting you, Lady Celesta.”

Celesta shrunk away from him as her body became wracked with violent sobs. “Honor? There is no honor in me! I am not worthy to be a priestess of Rail!”

Lucien kept his arms about her. “Of course there is. You have never proven to me that you were nothing but honorable. And if I am a blind man to not see what is so dishonorable about you, then so be it.”

Celesta looked up at him, tears streaming down her face, and took his face in her hands. “You didn’t see other things. Mayhap you are blind.”

Lucien gave her a lopsided smile. “Then I suppose I am a blind fool for falling in love with you.”

Celesta placed her fingers upon his lips and looked at him again, with that same pleading look she gave him in the tavern, like a trapped anima l pleading for its life to be taken and its suffering put to rest.

Lucien brought a hand up to hers and gently grasped her hand. He brought the palm of her hand to his lips and kissed it lightly. “I will never stop you from doing what you think you must do.”

Celesta sang through her tears, “And I have loved you so long/Delighting in your company.” She felt his lips touch her palm and moved up on her tip toes to do the unthinking able: it wouldn’t serve to better their pain and, in fact, may make it worse, but she kissed him. She felt his lips upon her own as the tears streamed down her face. Her hand intertwined with his as the wintry chill cooled her hot tears.

Lucien leaned in and kissed her, slowly and tantalizingly at first, almost as if he was tryi8ng to control himself, then passionately as he seemed to give in. He twined a hand into her hair possessively and tightened his other arm about her waist, drawing her closer to him.

Celesta melded her form to his. They fit like missing pieces to a lost puzzle. Reluctantly, she pulled back, looking at him with that look. The look that says, “Why?” all over it. Her pained expression looked over his features as if memorizing them for another time when she wouldn’t be able to see him.

Lucien shook his head to her unspoken question and gave her a lopsided smile. “Where will you go?”

“I do not know. I just need some time.”

“I…understand…”

Celesta brushed her lips over his and spoke in a long ago, ancient, tribal tongue of the dragons.

Lucien regarded her curiously, not understanding a word she said.

Celesta translated to him slowly, “My heart stays with the amber eyes man.” She let go of him and stepped back. She studied the whole of him for a long moment. The way his hair moved in the chill winter breeze, the way he stood, proud and strong, his eyes so strong, focused, and protecting. She was probably never going to see him again.

She took a step back and then another, still looking at him. She turned slowly away and began walking. It was better this way, she kept telling herself. They both needed time away. They needed time to think things through and decide on what they are to do. She looked back over her shoulder at Lucien one last time. He was still standing there, watching her leave. She felt tears threatening to spill and she quickly turned away.

Lucien opened his mouth to call out to her, to say something, anything, but nothing came out. He took a step after her and went no further. He watched as the woman he loved walk down the path to the Temple of Rail and probably out of his life forever.

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