Young Saiden dreams, and as he awakens he finds with him a woman he does not remember bringing back to his bed. Tsk, tsk cousin. You should be more careful.

Oak Room -- 1st Floor -- Castle Ambe

A modest chamber, adequately furnished in pleasant greens and golds, with a bed, wardrobe and writing desk, and a pair of comfortable chairs before the small fireplace. The windows look out onto a little courtyard below, more an airwell than a garden, and the oaken door lets out into a passageway to the Eastern Hallway.

Winter's chill permeates even in here, and the window-panes are patterned with traceries of frost. As the afternoon's light turns gold, shadows deepen and pool, and the long day's bustle begins to draw to a close.

Obvious exits:
Oaken Door

Saiden lies upon the bed, curled up slightly beneath it's sheets, looking almost innocent in his repose.

From somewhere, in the vague greyness a lighted figure appears. "Darling?" the voice begins, echoing softly. The shape begins to take a more sturdy form a soft glowing light emanating from her. Pale golden hair falling about her. "My little one." she says, "Where have you gone to?"

Saiden stirs at the voice, one hand moving beneath the pillow to grasp something, his eyes opening as he lifts his head, seeking the source of the voice "Who...?" he murmurs, barely a whisper, mostly to himself.

The room is dark, still, silent. But the bed is warm and comforting, and curled up against your side is the warmth of another. Soft and accepting, a slender sliding over your ribs to hold you close.

Saiden's eyes widen impercitebly in that darkness, he begins to draw away "Who are are you?" he asks, voice almost calm, broken by a hint of...something behind it. A slim deck of cards is now in the hand formerly beneath the pillow.

A breeze passes through the room, disturbing the curtains. Strange, as not a window is open, but the warmth nestled against our back says nothing and moves not at all as if she still slumbers.

Saiden begins to draw away, slightly further this time, one hands still on the trumps, eyes on the warmth in the darkness.

Again, some wind disturbs the room, but the figure does not move. Strange though, there seems to be some soft keening in the room, just above audible range.

Saiden's free hand finally closes round something. An candle. Kitchen matches. An almost detached aura has settled round him, as though he's separated from his emotion as he begins to strike the match, a long, low arc, a glittering array of sparks visible in the darkness as the match begins to come to life.

The glow of the candle falls gently upon the room. Gently upon the woman asleep in the bed, casting soft rays on the beautiful golden hair that lays so gently against her naked skin.

Saiden backs ever so slowly out of the bed, somewhat less then clothed himself, saying, in his silken voice as he stands "Madam...I think you may have the wrong bed..." his slight mask of a smile sliding into place.

She moves not at all but again the wind stirs some and it disturbs the golden hair that lays across her skin, revealing a very familiar face. One that seems to reflect a thousand past dreams.

Saiden murmurs, half to himself as his eyes rest upon her "Mother...?" then, the slight smile, tinged with darkness this time "No. I don't think so...."

"Yes." Comes the whisper, somewhere in the room but her lips move not at all, nor do her eyes open to reveal their true color.

A brief flicker of something across features highlighted by the candle, something hard to place. Fear. Amusement. Relief. Or something else. But quick as it is seen, it is gone, the mask of a smile back in place. "No. I think not."

There is perhaps the sound of laughter, soft, bemused. "Child, child." she says softly. "Perhaps you are right to doubt. I am, and am not your mother." The candle seems to glow brighter, casting more rays upon the beautiful pale face.

Saiden gives a dark smile, unpeturbed "Cryptic games and parlor tricks. By what are you called?" he queries.

There is a distinct sadness heard in her voice, and yet the lips still do not move. "None now. I am by no name called."

Saiden heads over to the pale, blonde woman, bringing the candles light onto her, sweat beading on his forehead for some reason as he gazes down upon her "And what do you seek, nameless one?"

There is a sigh. "Son." she says softly and then another sigh. "Perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps you do not understand."
As the candles fall upon her face more closely, her beauty is revealed but neither her lips move nor her eyes. More disturbing, her chest does not rise either. But the candles are revealing, castinglight upon the necklace of bruises about her throat.

Saiden relaxes slightly, as though releasing a weight from his shoulders, slight smile still in place, though there is a slight flicker in it of that same, hidden emotion as he takes in the nature of the woman "Misdeeds done, a child lost?" he says as the smile fades away at last, the mask gone "I...understand, I think."

And a slight golden glow appears from behind you. "I can only hope so." Says the soft voice. "In a way it is enough simply to lay my eyes upon you. As I was never given long enough to do so."

A breeze blows slightly, lifting the golden flame of the candle and a realization comes with the light. The figure, in your bed, she breathes not at all nor has she for many years. Tis a body that lies there, long since past into te next world. She is, indeed, very dead.

Saiden remains silent for a time before speaking, eyes upon the corpse as he replies "I too...mother."

"Here son." She says firmly, the voice again coming from behind. "For now, I am here." There is a slight pause. "I must warn, my vision is not an easy one to see. Look with care."

Saiden turns, slowly, towards the glow, towards the voices source, candle still in hand. There is something carefully hidden in his posture, a readiness.

She stands there, still, enveloped in a soft glowing light. Golden hair frames her face, gold reflects off her pale skin. Beautiful, fragile, and when her eyes lift they are crimson with the blood that fills them, and within their reflection replays the last moments off her life as the air is choked from her.

Saiden murmurs a single word, inaudible to any but himself as he gazes upon the apparition, meeting her blood filled gaze with his own.

Tears spill over her lashes, leaving crimson streaks across such pale cheeks. "Oh son." she says on a gasping breath. Her hands reaches forward to your cheek, the golden skin of her fingers bringing forth light of their own.

Saiden stands, his candle in one hand, the trumps in the other, as he awaits that touch. There is a slight tenseness about him, an almost anticipatitory dread, as he continues to meet her gaze, accompanied by something unjudgeable in his eyes.

There is an odd sensation and then her fingers pass straight through your cheek. Tears fall again, as the light around her starts to fade. "I am sorry my son. I'm so sorry." She begins to cry in earnest and slowly the light around her begins to recede.

Saiden says, all masks gone, leaving the lost, strange little boy he once was and perhaps still is "I forgive you, mother."

There is a brief smile from her lips and then she fades entirely, leaving the room far darker.

Saiden blows out the candle and stands in the darkness for a long time, lost in thought and memories, the last thing seen before the fading of the light a sad smile.

There is a small shudder through the room and the body upon the bed fades too, leaving in its place a sparkle of silver dust.