The Past

This is the story of Vian and Juan, their past, when they were very young. I hope you enjoy it, and don't cry too much...
In a world of innocence

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don't let go

”Mom’s ill.” the young boy shook his head, scratching his dirty cheek. “I know, but don’t think about it, she’ll get well soon.” The first boy nodded to his older brother, then dried his nose. It was cold outside, snow fell from the sky, and their fire had died out days ago. They were both covered in blankets and all the clothes they could find to keep out the cold. The oldest boy looked towards the bedroom door again. Their mother was in there, coughing, he could hear her. “We have to get some food.” He said slowly, then turned to look at his brother again before asking “Will you go with me to the village?” the younger boy shook his head “What about mom?” his brother nodded “You stay here then, and take care of her?” “But Vian…” “No buts, I am leaving now, we need food.” Vian, twenty years old, studied his younger brother for a few moments. He then shook his head again. “I need your help Juan.” The younger brother bit down on his thumb, he hadn’t quite stopped sucking on it yet, and he still slept in their mother’s bed. “I’ll go then…” he answered after a few seconds of silence. Vian nodded and pulled down his hat to cover his ears, then did the same to Juan’s.

They went out, into the wet and cold of winter snow, the tyranny of the wind, the brutality of nature’s wrath. “Vian, don’t let go.” Juan said, holding his brother’s hand. Vian gave his hand a slight squeeze, dragging him through. “I never will.”

The storm had gotten worse, and the two brothers couldn’t tell what was in front of them no more. Juan tripped and slipped out of Vian’s hand. He curled together in the snow, shaking his head “I don’t wanna go.” He cried, sucking on his thumb, tears rolling down those soft cheeks. “Come on Juan, come on!” Vian yelled at him and pulled him up standing. They took ten more steps before Juan fell again, this time with his face first into the snow. He started crying loudly and screamed in frustration. Vian hugged him close, sitting down next to him, rocking him in his arms. “Don’t let go Juan.” He said, but Juan just kept crying.

They slept in a small cavern nearby, trying to keep each other warm by lying close. Vian held around Juan and protected him, and Juan was first to fall asleep. As they woke that morning they were even hungrier, and the storm had become even worse.
The village had been empty but at least the storm had died out. Their way home was a lot easier, but they returned home empty handed, to a house with a mother who’d forgotten them. “Don’t ever let go.” Vian said to his kid brother, and then vanished.


Juan opened his eyes, looking at the ceiling. For a moment he felt like screaming, screaming in frustration, but he kept his head cool. His entire body was sweaty and warm, and he pushed off the girl lying up against him before crawling out of bed. He picked up his pants, strapped the belt in and walked on deck. Here he studied the moons, wondering if he had ever let go.


In his giant bed Vian laid, studying the ceiling, thoughtful. He was saddened by a stunning dream, and he felt the sting to his heart as he looked upon his hand. Six hundred years had passed since they’d found their mother lying in bed, dead. He got up from his bed, leaned against the wall and looked out his window, studying the moons, wondering why he’d ever stopped holding on.


Copyrighted by Cecilie Hornstrup Nemeth, DK ©

Guest Starring!

Hello there. I have fallen in love with something Helene wrote to me. I just love her language and have decided to post it here. It is personal and might not make much sense to outsiders, but please, dive into her language and enjoy her descriptional little lovescene.

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Early morning

The early morning sunlight streamed carefully through the open window, a slight wind made the see-through-silk curtains wave like a breeze through a corn field. And there on the round bed in the middle of the room laid a woman. The sun blessed bare skin of her pale back, uncovered by the silk bed sheets. Her hair flung over the pillows like wild fire through a dry forest.
He could tell that she was sleeping, for the sound of her calm breath. He smiled to himself as he remembered how she’d gotten here. He’d been holding her, not wanting to let go, so he picked her up with ease, as she was so tiny and light. He had placed a finger on her crimson lips when she was about to ask what he was doing, and she’d kept quiet. He had carried her all the way back to his private chambers, only to let her down where she now slept so calmly. Her eyes had followed him closely as he’d turned his back at her, to free himself from his armor, and placed it away.

He sighed and frowned a bit, as he remembered having had to lay bounds on himself, bound so that he’d not just forcefully take her right then and there. Instead he’d crawled up to her and glanced into her green-purple eyes for a long while before kissing her softly on the cheeks, her for-head and at last her crimson lips. He was struggling with his self-control as she kissed him back. He knew very well that this was not some pre-learned reaction, but her instincts reacting. Same instincts that woke curiosity in her eyes as he very tenderly and slowly had begun untying the lace on her dress. Surprisingly natural her fingers had found their way to caress his arms as he kept untying, her touch sending a trembling fire going under his skin. The same fire he could sense under hers as his fingers touched her bare skin for the first time.

He sighed and turned to face the window. He could not stand looking at her, know that the fire would must certainly rise again. Knowing that he would have to leave her again. Leave her and maybe never see her again. He sighed and locked his gaze on a sunlight rose standing alone on the field outside his window, letting all his thoughts fly away like the birds in the sky above it.
She stretched slowly, and rose herself to her elbows with a silent yawn. Then when her thoughts wandered to the part night blood rose to her cheeks and she blushed, the tingly feeling spread throughout her tiny little body. She glanced around only to be blinded by the bright morning sunlight, shining at her from the window, catching glance at him firm figure beside it. His back turned towards her. He'd only bothered to wrap a silk sheet around his waist, leaving the rest of his strong features exposed. She’d not dreamt, she’d not been tricked be her own lacking memory. She reached for the sheet, and wrapped it lightly around her as she sat up, blinking tiredly like a little child denying it was still sleepy. She could not deny that she hadn’t slept this well in a very long time. No nightmare, no other magister having to calm her in the middle of the night. Just him, he’d tugged her in, and it was like his strong arms had shielded her from the nightmares that kept coming back. She smiled still slightly blushed. Then she carefully dropped off the bed and got to her feet, slowly approaching him, not stopping before she stood right behind him. He closed his eyes as he felt the warmth of her body behind him. Then he took a deep breath and turned around, carefully placing his arms around her, and she rested her cheek on his chest.

How could he have looked away? There it was like ignited by her glance as she looked up at him; the fiery feeling trembling through him again. He was about to say he had to leave, when she placed a finger on his lips silencing him, like he’d done to her the night before. His lips burned, and he kissed her finger, her hand, her arm, her neck. He didn’t want to stop, he couldn’t. And he knew she’d not stop him.



Copyrighted by Helene Kiilerich Frederiksen, DK ©