“Do you remember when we first met?”
The wind danced across the valley. Flowers and blades of grass swayed back and forth to the rhythm of the breeze. Pollen and various pleasantries swirled about the valley fields on the wind’s currents. With the gentle movement of the air came the sweet song of the birds, leading the wind’s revel. The sky opened itself to the blissful sun; the clouds lightened themselves and frolicked about the heights.
Amidst the beauty they stood, alone.
“As I recall, you told me I was ‘young and stupid.’”
“You still are.”
The valley’s playful reveling continued about them. They gazed up into the sky and let the feeling pass over them, the feeling of freedom, a passion of righteousness – nature. She let her hair go to the wind. He gave his eyes to the beauty – the valley and the girl that possessed it.
“That was, of course, before we fell in love.”
“Then, perhaps, we are both still quite young and very stupid.”
“Is there anything so wrong with that?”
A fresh gale entered the valley. Not angry, but firm. It came and settled over the fields, gently pressing the grass to the ground as it passed. It had come with a warning of the approaching storm still many miles away. The valley didn’t care; the gale’s passing went unnoticed by the flowers and the grass, the birds sang on, and the breeze danced with more joy.
“You wouldn’t have come back, if it weren’t for me, would you?”
“I thought I’d lost you.”
“You did… but… Now you’ve found me.”
Her voice sounded so sweet. And yet, he could sense something misplaced in her heart. The valley was hers and she the valley’s, but there was something more to the beauty, the song. The wind danced away, beyond the fields, and stillness came upon them. She grew cold. The valley grew sad. She spoke as the storm came closer.
“I must leave you now…”
“What?! So soon? But…”
“Please, leave this place, and I promise we’ll meet again.”
“I came back just for you. Now, you tell me to leave?”
“This valley won’t be so fair soon.”
“They call to me… You mustn’t be here when they arrive.”
Silence befell the valley. Quiet laid itself over all the beauty. The flowers and the grass shivered under the moment. The wind returned, now carrying a chill, fear. The field felt the maiden’s heart, her pain. The storm came ever closer.
“Five years I’ve been without you. I won’t let you go that easily.”
“I know. I won’t let you… Demitri.”
The stillness gave way. Again the valley reveled in itself, warm and light-filled. The flowers and grasses danced with the happy winds. The birds sang their song. The sun shined, and the clouds parted. The perfumes of the fields rose and rode currents.
And alone he stood, in the midst of his symbol – the White Rose. She was… gone…
And the storm came ever closer.