The Twilight Saga

Lost In Time…









A Love Story By

Mykal Mason




































Jonathan lifted his hands, not hesitating as the dark ring around the evil immortal’s hands pulsated towards him. He jumped in front of Flora, covering her while she was screaming, and then listened to her pleas, his heart breaking as she let out a heart-wrenching sob: “No!”

          Darkness speared him as would a sword or dagger, and blood immediately exploded from the white cloak he had on. Flora screamed again as he fell, grabbing him and holding him tightly to her, caressing him, soothing him unknowingly.

          He remembered, briefly, the day he had fallen in love with the beautiful princess. She’d been all his after one inviting look from her, and they’d realized a month later that the connection between them was more than mere coupling. They were soulmates. They would always be connected now- it was in their spirits.

          About a year later, they’d married. He’d known his heart was in her hands when she’d said: I do. His and Flora’s was not a usual connection. Sure, they were soulmates, and the connection between soulmates was not a normal connection, but they were even more connected than that.

          And now…

          As Jonathan lay dying, Flora’s hushed tears dripping onto his cloak, he realized that even though he would die, he’d still see Flora- in the Otherworld with the Father and Mother. The darkness had taken its claim on him, but it had not rendered his soul defenseless.

          Suddenly a bolt of energy flowed through him like a burst of lightning and heat, and he realized that he was healing. He was… he was going to live.

          But if he was living… 

  If he was living...

  "No!" He cried out now, because surely the healing incurred in his body had been caused by Flora. In turn, though, she had shattered his heart and soul, because now, she would die. Healing magic was only reversible- it could not be only used one way.

Flora's eyes slid closed beside him, and she died.

Ever-rolling, ever-slithering darkness slid around his soul, into his heart, and the deposed warrior of Flora Bennett was left standing- no, kneeling, actually, brokenly, over her broken, marred, dead body, and he wept, his cool tears falling onto her body now, bathed in the deep, mysterious light of the heartbreaking moon.




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