Her eyes flicker a pale shade of lilac in the soft evening light. "Are you sure?" asks she. As always her voice is musical like the wind chimes she hangs outside the window, yet still holding the warmth and courage associated with a glowing hearth.
"Yes," he replies without any hesitation. "I have to do this."
She smiles a sad smile, a goodbye smile. "You have courage. May it serve you well." He turns to watch the blaze crackling merrily in the hearth for a long moment, the firelight seeming to ignite his flame-colored hair.
"The night grows old." His words frame a question, hidden in a statement.
"True. But now is the time to leave, when the soft starlight filters through the forest leaves, casting a sense of ethereal beauty to the lands that few stay to witness."
"Aye. But you always favored the subtle wind and quietness of evening, Old friend." She smiles for a moment, the simple motion of her lips relaxing the unnoticed tension in the room.
"And for you, the harsh sun of the desert could do nothing to dampen your spirit. We will meet again." She rises from her beautifully engraved chair, the work of her own nimble hands, and left the room. He hesitates for a moment despite the clear dismissal before turning and exiting through the other door.
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Ideas (Old)
RandomJust Ideas. If you want more of a certain story on Ideas, just comment. Feel free to take ideas here and there. Just don't copy. (I would like it if you gave me credit for the idea) Most likely will change the title for most of these. This is the ol...
