Wrapped in a long heavy fur coat Carmilla sat on the porch of the small hunting lodge and watched. She watched everything, the stars glittering to her from deep space, the glistening ball of the planet and it's larger moons. Across the darkside of the planet the tracery of lights indicated the presence of population centres, the occasional flare in the sky as ships ascended or descended through the atmosphere. All visible in the crystal clear air of the moon she was on.
All around her the trees were covered in a coating of snow, the floor thick with it as well, save only where the carriage had travelled. Several hours earlier she had heard it arrive, the sound of doors opening and closing, and the departure. Now, all was silent.
Night fell before she stirred and made her way inside, the lights had automatically come on as the sun set, and the sparse heating of the other rooms had begun. A well stoked fire was already in the grate and the warmth was penetrating, welcoming. Sitting in her chair she saw the terminal was flashing with stored messages. She ignored it, and closed the screen down and saw the letter.
Pulling her gloves off she slipped out of the coat and poured a glass of wine, settling down infront of the fire to read. She recognised Mona's handwriting.
My Dearest Carmilla,
From the little time I have spent with you I know that you have not bothered to read the messages that are on your terminal. But I know you will be reading this.
You will have to forgive me sneaking out as I did, for I could not face you, all my resolve would have melted. I have been summoned back, my duties as your guardian are.... no longer required. And from what I understand.... you have been exiled. Never more allowed back into the Disciples.
I can't claim to understand why you did what you had to do, or why Ithiria reacted the way she did. But it is not my place. And I must do my duty.
We all must follow our own paths, you have chosen yours and I can do no less than follow mine.
Your friend,
Mona Deveraux
Carmilla read the letter several times before folding it up and replacing it in the envelope. Walking over to the terminal she flipped up the screen and looked at the flashing icon. Two messages. She ran her crimson nails over the keypad and gently pressed the purge button. The two messages dissapeared. Closing the terminal again she picked up the book that was resting beside the terminal and settled back into the chair by the fire.
Far far away in space, the pilots of her new corporation were fighting, the call to be there was strong. But first.... there was the fire and the book... and the wine. Time enough to fight, time enough to die.
Time enough....
All around her the trees were covered in a coating of snow, the floor thick with it as well, save only where the carriage had travelled. Several hours earlier she had heard it arrive, the sound of doors opening and closing, and the departure. Now, all was silent.
Night fell before she stirred and made her way inside, the lights had automatically come on as the sun set, and the sparse heating of the other rooms had begun. A well stoked fire was already in the grate and the warmth was penetrating, welcoming. Sitting in her chair she saw the terminal was flashing with stored messages. She ignored it, and closed the screen down and saw the letter.
Pulling her gloves off she slipped out of the coat and poured a glass of wine, settling down infront of the fire to read. She recognised Mona's handwriting.
My Dearest Carmilla,
From the little time I have spent with you I know that you have not bothered to read the messages that are on your terminal. But I know you will be reading this.
You will have to forgive me sneaking out as I did, for I could not face you, all my resolve would have melted. I have been summoned back, my duties as your guardian are.... no longer required. And from what I understand.... you have been exiled. Never more allowed back into the Disciples.
I can't claim to understand why you did what you had to do, or why Ithiria reacted the way she did. But it is not my place. And I must do my duty.
We all must follow our own paths, you have chosen yours and I can do no less than follow mine.
Your friend,
Mona Deveraux
Carmilla read the letter several times before folding it up and replacing it in the envelope. Walking over to the terminal she flipped up the screen and looked at the flashing icon. Two messages. She ran her crimson nails over the keypad and gently pressed the purge button. The two messages dissapeared. Closing the terminal again she picked up the book that was resting beside the terminal and settled back into the chair by the fire.
Far far away in space, the pilots of her new corporation were fighting, the call to be there was strong. But first.... there was the fire and the book... and the wine. Time enough to fight, time enough to die.
Time enough....
No comments:
Post a Comment