Sioggard - The Moon Flower Luna

"The dinner.." Chlea informed her advancing into the room with a fragrant tray but Isadore didn't bother answering her, continuing to stare at the darkness outside as she silently counted the hours that were missing. To her freedom. "Princess." Chlea insisted after arranging the food that that have been prepared with care and attention in the kitchen, hoping to entice her to eat. “Alpha Rhys..” “I'm not hungry.” she interrupted curtly, turning to give the woman a cold gaze. “Do you want me to send Miss Wilson to keep you company? She came to see you in the afternoon.” "There's no need." Isadore denied before turning away again to contemplate the darkness that shone coldly in the freezing night outside the window. "But.." "I would like to be alone." Isadore demanded in a dismissal tone and Chlea had no other choice than to bow to her will and leave her to brood in silence anxiously counting the remaining time. Georgianna would have been offended, Isadore had been rejecting her visits for days now but as much as she wanted to say goodbye to the girl, she couldn't risk it, her state of mind was too uncertain to allow herself to see Georgianna one last time. The anxiety and dread that snaked through her heart with equal intensity had made her miss out on anyone's company for the past days. In the castle the rumors of her uneasiness had spread rapidly and no one had dared to disturb her rest. Because her will was law. Because she was a Moon Princess. The Sioggard Luna. If she stayed. But she wouldn't. She couldn't. Time had already started running against her. That night her torture would end. Isadore waited anxiously with her heart beating in agony to feel the silence descend over the castle like a dark pall. But that wasn't enough, with Rhys busy along the borders the castle was teeming with warriors. To ensure her safety. And leading them was Kellan. She couldn't risk it. Isadore forced herself to endure another two hours of agonizing waiting then when the night clock struck twelve strokes she gathered her strength and prepared to flee. Meeting her destiny, whether it was death or freedom, she didn't care. She changed into warm, heavy clothes under a black cloak that would protect her from prying eyes. Isadore did not look back once she left her rooms, with silent steps and a heavy heart, hugging the wall instead she advanced resolutely in the darkness. Trying to drive away the agony in her chest. Because she hadn't yet managed to counter the oppression that enveloped her soul within those old walls. Walking in those corridors, with her every step, a sigh of life went out in her chest. For years and years, day after day she still hadn't learned to counter the dark fragrance enclosed in those walls that stole her breath. Closing her eyes did not work because there was no more distant depth to hide in, her blood boiled while her whole being quivered with hatred for the old memories and her helplessness. She could only move forward listening to the sound of her footsteps bouncing hardly, punctuated by the hurried beating of her tumultuous heart. They resonated with the weight of pain in her tired bones. Shaking her head, Isadore bit her lips and stifled the fear that crept into her heart. She would be free she swore to herself. Had paid too dear a price, the life owned it to her. Opening the doors one after the other, determined to overcome every obstacle that had come in her way, Isadore was glad she found none. The night was silent and the castle vibrated with its silence hidden in the shadows of the valley. Crossing the castle keep, Isadore hold her breath, careful to pick up any noise that could betray her, but the silence rang gloomy between the stone walls, tacit witnesses of her passage. Arrived in the internal gallery she stopped to breathe and looked around but saw only shadows hovering in the tense air. It was a dark, starless night, covered by a bank of smoky fog in whose depths shadowy spirals created deceptive patterns in the gloomy sky of that winter that had yet to start. Similar shadows played to run across the gloomy corridors she was walking along. It was all in her head, she felt it throbbing painfully at her temples and spreading like a malignant cancer in her blood grabbing her beating heart, squeezing it in a grip of cold that made her teeth chatter. She had had a dream last night whose soft outlines played with her nerves at the edge of her consciousness. Striving to ignore them, Isadore tried to get into reality, letting herself be distracted by the screeching call of an owl somewhere in the forest. That was the reality Isadore told herself, shaking her head in a mild attempt to convince herself. That dark and inhospitable corridor into whose depths she had entered without knowing where it would take her. That moment, that night of that winter that she had begun to hate. The dry call of the owl slowly ceased, replaced by a more prominent sound that became more transparent as she approached it. Isadore felt the different nuances emerge while walking towards them. It was the snow. The gentle breeze that cooled her hot skin had turned into a gust of violent wind that hurled snow petals against the castle windows. The scent of the night penetrated her conscience and intoxicated her senses. It smelled of roots, earth and rust with more delicate nuances of floral notes and an intense scent of roses. She must have been close, could almost feel it, something indefinite running on her skin. That intense perfume, enveloping, sour and sweet at the same time that only in that place blossomed in all its splendour. A vague smile altered her features while her feet, taken by their own will, led her decisively towards that faint fragrance that seemed to call her intensely. Ever since she found the passage that led to the barrier, Isadore had never tried to reach it. It was a place that she would never have wanted to find spontaneously, not in the frozen night and wrapped in the raw vortex of a violent snowy storm. But that night something had changed. It was the instinct that had taken over, silencing her reason and paranoia, and this was so little of her that she hadn't paused to weigh the consequences. And if she too wanted to worry about it now it was too late already. At that moment an echo almost froze her because she heard distinctively a sound of footsteps approaching her. With her heart beating crazily, Isadore immediately hid herself in the shadow behind a column holding her breath while listening to her panicked heart, startled that it could give her away. When the guards passed her, the relief she felt made her tremble intensely as she still stood and dared not breathe. Counted silently, closed her eyes and opened them again, forcing herself to breathe. The air resounded silently, punctuated only by the incision of the violent storm that was raging outside. On tiptoe and with her heart trembling painfully, Isadore then continued towards the exit that she was desperate to reach now. The impact with the stiff night air was both a torment and a relief. Out there helped also by the dark sky and the noise of the tempest, she could move less awkwardly. The cold caress of the whipping wind, however, dampened the newfound enthusiasm as gusts of air and snow swelled around her black cloak, soaking it like a lonely beacon in the dark night. That night would never end too soon. Isadore tiptoed through the outer gallery, an uncertain figure hugging the rough stone wall with the hood of her cloak pulled tightly on her head to defend herself from the bad weather of the storm and hide from the prying eyes of the lightning flashes that exploded in colored sparks of white lightning in the misty mass covering the sky. Beyond the outer gallery there was a fence pointing to two different directions. Isadore headed west to meet the old ruins which in ancient times bore the old symbols engraved on their edges. The air smelled of barren desolation and a strong odour of incense and rotting branches nested in the rough ground as she continued to run into the unknown. Holding back a sigh, Isadore ignored the bad feeling that had been afflicting her since she'd woken up with sweat on her forehead at dawn that morning. It was just a dream, she told herself, shaking her head hoping to shake off the aftermath of that nightmare that still made fun of her reason. A dream that had scared her to the point of bringing her there. When she entered the forest, the intertwining of branches and leaves had slowed the cadenced dance of the snow that hardly penetrated that natural barrier, but by now the cold had penetrated the weak protection of her own clothes, soaking her to the bone. Livid, numb and with nerves on the edge of her skin, Isadore was less and less convinced of the wisdom of her decision, but she nevertheless went on because if she looked at what she had left behind she didn't really have a choice. The farther she went into the woods, the thinner the light filtered through the leafy gaps in the trees that seemed to grow in height in a silent prayer addressed to the sky. Isadore joined in their invocation as she walked along the familiar paths that so many times hosted her over the years. She had never been afraid of the dark, but then as she lifted the edges of the cloak that was in her way, a howl exploded in the air with the force of a tornado, sweeping away a swarm of birds above her head and stopping her heart beating for a moment. Because that sinister sound that had crawled across her skin making her wince had sounded damn close. Too close. He had found her! Isadore felt her blood drain from her face as she lost her peace, freezing with a stifled gasp between old roots and dry leaves. Breathe Isadore, she told herself, breathe, but it wasn't easy. Blood rushed to her face, making it red as she tried in vain to regain her composure. Rationally, Isadore knew it was imperative to fight that intense fear. Reason, however, had little to do with it at that moment. And the beating of her breathless heart bounced against a wall of silence in her head, making her run cold shivers on the hot skin. Her panic threatened to invade her but just then her desperation took over. And he still did not reached her. Therefore, Isadore kept running because she hadn't risked so much just to cross a barrier. It was what she would find beyond it the reason for that run into the unknown, her freedom. When Rhys's ferocious howl pierced the silence of the night again she finally reached the barrier. There she was. There he was as well. Behind her, she could feel his strength and fury and turned around knowing he could see her too. Her Alpha, her Soul, her Enemy. Isadore smiled in the dark of the night, thinking sadly that maybe it would have been different if she had been stronger and, for a very instant, she was really sorry, but it was only a split second. She could no longer continue like this, regardless of the consequences. Turning to face the barrier without any fear now Isadore advanced towards it, feeling its energy envelop her and burn her soul. She didn't know if she was going to meet her death or her freedom, but it didn't matter anyway, because her soul was already dead.