I remember his mask, how it was elegantly designed with silver swirls and twists. It was framed with golden feathers, a full white porcelain mask that covered his masculine face that I could only imagine from his firm jaw line. It was like a dream the more I try to remember it. Classical music was played by the talented musicians that were hired for the ball, I remember how excited my sister was to be among them. I remember the white curtain that hung on the sides of the tall mosaic windows that depicted angels and other mystical beings. I remember dancing under the giant golden chandeliers that hung high with the small angels that were painted onto the ceiling. They watched us as we danced with one another, his strong hand clasped around mine. His intense amber eyes burning into me and piercing my heart and soul. They looked just like the eyes within my dreams, even now as I lay on this cold floor I can remember them so well. I feel a warmth within in my chest as I think of him. Here I am surrounded by stone and ice and I remain content. I am hardly bothered by the crimson water that pooled under me during these last few hours. I forget how my hair is a mess and how my clothes have been soaked and turned into shreds of soiled clothing and make shift bandages. My breathing begins to hurt, my breaths becoming short and quick. I grasp onto my memories of him, the only thing that seems to be keeping me going. A loud boom is heard from beyond my room and I can tell that there is fighting, just as the door swings open I see those Amber eyes from my past rush towards me, a stranger reaching his hands out towards me. I weakly raise my own to reach his but before our fingertips touch. . .
I become one with the shadows that swallowed me.