by Bobby Naemi

Maria waited quietly on the ledge of the castle, losing herself in the purple sunset. The sky seemed sad to her, almost as if it was mourning the loss of light. It almost brought tears to her eyes.

She had not been dealing well with her new life in the East. The people of the castle stared at her whenever she walked by, as if she there was something terribly wrong with her. They seemed to consider her an annoying spoil of the War, a lingering influence of the crushed West. The only reason she was kept in the castle was because Prince Ralse seemed to have taken to her. Or perhaps she was kept to remind the people of how the glorious armies of the East had annihilated the forces of their age-old rival, the West.

Once, the West had been a great civilization whose accomplishments in the arts and the sciences were rivaled only by it’s powerful Heavenly Knights. But the fabled Knights had all been killed when the East won the War, along with their great general, the famed Draco.

Draco . . . The thought of her love made Maria begin to weep. He had promised her that he would return after the battle was over, he promised that he would never leave her side when the West won the war. Now he lay, dead, in some battlefield.

When news arrived in the West that the Knights had been defeated, Maria had fallen numb. She had refused Draco’s death, unable to comprehend what had happened. How could the fabled Knights of the West have fallen in battle? This was never supposed to happen, the West was supposed to have won the War.

She had not even been able to show emotion when the forces of the East had burned down the castle of the West; when they had killed her father, the king; when they had taken her people prisoner; when Prince Ralse had taken her from her country to the East, to become his bride.

Through all of the horror and pain she had been unable to show anything, not speaking, remaining numb. Now, two days after the carnage she was finally beginning to absorb what had occurred. Her eyes welled with tears as she collapsed onto the ledge of the castle rampart. She had lost everything, there was nothing left to her now.

"Maria . . ."

The phantom voice floated through the dusky air. Maria, sobbing quietly, looked up.

Standing stoically in front of her, was a tall, imposing man garbed in bright silver armor. His eyes were black, like his hair, which blew softly in the breeze.

Maria’s bright blue eyes opened in shock, her tears burning on her cheek. "Draco . . . ?"

Draco remained standing, a sad smile flitting across his face. "Maria . . ."

Maria stood up in unbelief, then frantically ran into Draco’s arms, trembling wildly, clutching him as if he would dissappear.

"Draco . . . Draco, I missed you so much . . ." Fresh tears flew out of Maria’s eyes, this time, in joy.

Draco ran his hand through Maria’s brilliant blonde hair, as he held her tightly. "Maria . . . seeing you brings me such happiness . . ."

Maria began sobbing in earnest now, letting everything fall out of her as she squeezed her love. "Draco, it’s been so horrible without you . . . I thought I would die . . . oh Draco, I love you so much, promise me you’ll never leave again."

Draco smiled and kissed Maria’s forehead. "Maria . . . I love you . . ."

Maria sank deeping into his arms. "Draco . . . my hero . . . hold me . . ."

"Come, Maria . . . dance with me."

Draco raised her arms, and slowly, they began to waltz along the castle walls. Maria could not think of anything but Draco’s warmth and her love. He was here now . . . her love was here.

Suddenly Maria felt a cold chill. Draco stopped moving, and Maria looked up in confusion.

Draco stepped back, causing Maria to lose her balance. Standing away from Maria, suddenly, Draco began to laugh.

Maria watched in horror and confusion as Draco began to fade away, still laughing. Then numbly, Maria watched her dream dissappear into the dusk.

Slowly, Maria fell to her knees, staring at the floor.

"Cut!"

The Impresario rose from his chair, clapping loudly.

"Perfect! Tomorrow we’ll rehearse the duel scene . . . Cambio! Get rid of this smoke, Draco’s already dissappeared!"

The actress playing Maria sat up and brushed of the dust that had collected on her dress. Draco appeared from the back of the fake castle stone, coughing incessantly.

"Somebody turn off this smoke! My lungs are aching!" Draco complained.

"Oh, shut up," Maria said coolly. "There’s no need to whine."

The actor playing Draco stared maliciously at the opera diva who was playing Maria.

The Impresario stepped in between the two actors. "Now, now, let’s not get riled up over nothing. Tomorrow’s a new day."

Maria sniffed haughtily and walked off the set. Draco crossed his arms and turned away.

The Impresario hurriedly scampered away, thinking about how to plan for the grand performance. The Opera would be performed in one week, and there were still so many things he had to worry about. This was going to be the most important performance of his life, and he wasn’t about to let a few mistakes go uncorrected.

As he hurried across the set, he briefly thought about the scene being performed. It was a famous mournful scene, and he wondered what the real Draco and Maria from a thousand years ago would have thought of it. Then, shaking away his idle thoughts, the Impresario began planning for the next rehearsal.

On the opening night of the Opera, the Impresario, for some strange reason, felt horribly empty.