The Cold Prince

I'm suddenly aware of everything. First is the pain, striking right between my temples. It makes me wince, until I realise that my facial muscles are stiff. As I raise my hand to touch them, my wrist hits concrete, my skin raw as I yelp in pain.Darkness surrounds me, as my eyes slowly peel open, seeing nothing but swirling colour on a black canvas in my vision. The air is stale, as I breathe in deeply, my joints clicking in response. I must have fallen asleep in an odd position, as all my limbs feel numb. And then it hits me. Where am I? Who am I? No matter how deep I scrape the back of mind, everything comes up blank. I remember nothing. "Help!" I yell, pressing the palms of my hands against the ceiling above me, the bite of cold from it striking through my tender skin.My voice is hoarse, unused, scratching painfully at my throat. "Please someone help me!"A yelp sounds from whatever concrete casing I'm trapped in, and then some frantic mumbling. I'm not sure what is going on

~AvilaI stare down at my hands, deep in thought.Regardless of how long I spend scraping at the very edges of my mind, there are no memories to be found.Pressing the heels of my palms against my eyes, I let out a frustrated groan.Who am I meant to be? What am I supposed to do now? My initial confusion has melted away into frustration, and I just want to scream.I cast my gaze off to the window.The moon is round and full tonight, casting an ethereal glow into the room. My eyes flutter closed, a sweet, flower-scented breeze ruffling through the curtains, blowing over my damp skin, finally cooling it.I need to get outside. I can't be in this room a moment longer.Snatching a sheer dressing gown off its hook, I slip it on and make my way out the door and into the corridor.Everything about this place is vast and cold.The ceilings are tall and sweeping, adorned with ornate fixtures and painted various shades to create intricate patterns.My bare feet pad against the cool wooden floor

~Avila"This is a beautiful room," I comment, wandering in.Roel jumps, whirling around. After breakfast I saw him wandering off down the hallway and decided to follow him. He's the only one here who understands me, and as far as I'm concerned, the only one that can teach me what I want to know.He rests a frail hand on his chest, letting out a shaky laugh."Avila, you frightened me," he murmurs. "How are you feeling?"I look around the room, impressed.The ceiling is mostly a dome shaped skylight, letting in a satisfying amount of natural light, right down onto a large old table piled high with books and paper. One wall is smothered by bookshelves laden with books, while the opposite wall has a variety of stained maps depicting unfamiliar lands."I'm feeling tired," I admit, letting out a long breath. Being doted on by nurses constantly is starting to get on my nerves.It's like they think they will find something off about me...nothing has turned up yet."It must be strange seeing m

~Avila"Please don't hurt me!" I shriek, pressing my back against the headboard.He frowns a little, dark brows drawing together. He looks the picture of darkness, the shadows drenching him and his cloaked figure.If there is any reason for a hooded figure to climb through my window at night, it's to kill me."Av, it's me," he soothes, approaching.I hold my hands out in front of me, causing him to stop in his tracks. Whether I knew him before I lost my memory doesn't matter. There's something dangerous about him, which frightens away my curiosity."I know you-"He cuts me off by approaching quickly. Before I can so much as scream, his wet, gloved hands grasp the back of my neck, pulling me in for a kiss.I gasp. The pressure of his lips is a vaguely familiar feeling. His hand grips tightly to my neck, keeping me still. The feeling of being kissed, which is entirely foreign to me until now, is pleasant, although slightly terrifying.Realisation hits me like a rock in the side of the h

~AvilaI stare down at the paper in front of me, my scrawlings so ambiguous in nature, anyone watching me would have no idea what I'm trying to convey.It turns out, whatever artistic abilities I had before I lost my life are now gone, because I can't muster up anything half decent.Groaning, I drop the coloured pencil, resting my forehead against the desk.Who am I?The sound of shuffling feet have me whirling around in my seat in panic. Despite being the middle of the day, my mind immediately jumped into assuming it would be Emerick visiting me again."It's okay, it's just me," Vade soothes, stepping into the room. "I wanted to bring you this. Roel asked me to." He holds a pile of books out to me, seeming uncomfortable. He generally avoids me at all costs, so I imagine Roel really had to push him to come bring me some books.I take them gently, resting them on the desk.The way we are standing reminds me of the flashback I had yesterday. We are in a similar position, and instead of