The Gargoyle – Heart of Stone

I sit in the garden and watch the people as they walk by. Some will stop and lo

ok while others will even speak to me, but most just keep walking. I like sitting in here. I meet the most interesting people. I have seen everything sitting here. Love, lust, anger, hate, revenge, and yes, even a plot or two I have seen. If

I had a choice of sitting anywhere in the world, this would be my choice. Let me tell you just one story to illustrate why. It is a story of the most beautiful girl I have ever seen.

She was but a child when we met and I was already very old. In fact, it was in this very garden. Like the garden,

I have not changed much over the years; but I do miss the sound of her little feet running down the stone path. Anyway, I would sit in the garden, in this same spot in fact, and she would come and meet me here. Together we would play and play. When she was very young she was afraid of me, but when a little older she would play with my face sticking her hands in my mouth and pulling on my teeth, putting her fingers in my nose, eyes and ears; but I didn’t mind, she was just a little girl after all. When she

grew older she would climb on my back and we would pretend to go running through the fields of Salsvar or prancing on the cliffs of Dondongar. I would never move, of course, for fear of throwing her from my back and hurting her. I grew quite fond of her, more fond of her than I had of anyone else. But as fate would have it, she continued to grow and soon stopped meeting me here. Oh I would see her from time to time, but not the way we used to and not for very long. She was turning into a lady and had other more important things to do than to spend time someone as old as me. All I could do was watch her as she passed my way. At first I would see her looking at me and wishing she could play like she used to. She was barely more than eight then and already her hair had grown down to her waist and her bright eyes, once filled with the sparkle of imagination when we played together, now showed the pains of one learning what it meant to grow into a nobleman’s daughter. The years passed slowly then. I spent my time watching the gardeners as the trimmed the bushes and pulled the weeds, or the gentlemen and ladies as they took pleasant walks amidst the sweet aroma of roses, tulips and lilies, and when nobody else was around I charmed the birds to come and sit on my head and sing to me. But my sweet child grew still and far from my sight. Finally I

did see her again. By this time she had blossomed like a carnation and her beauty was such that sun would beat away the clouds and cling to the edge of the earth just to light her with his rays. Even so, I knew her well enough to see a shadow on her heart. She was troubled and needed the ear of a good friend. So I sat like I always did and let her speak.“I knew you’d be here.” she started with a slight smile, “You’re always here. I’m sorry I did not come sooner, but I have been so busy as of late. But I guess you don’t really care about that do you.” Nervously she milked the handkerchief she held in her hands as she spoke; whatever her trouble was, it took all her strength to face it. I wanted to reach out and take her in my arms and tell her everything was going to be all right, but she was a lady now and had to work through this as a lady, so I just sat there. “I didn’t know where else to go. I can’t talk to anyone but you and I desperately need your help. It’s my father you see, he’s arranged for me to marry. Don’t get me wrong, I want to honor my father and the man he chose is hansom and young and strong, but I don’t love him. I know, it’s the daughter’s duty to marry the man her father chooses, but I want to be in love with the man I marry. I’m sorry I can’t stay longer, if I do they’ll wander what became of me. But I’ll return as soon as I can, I promise.” I watched as she hurried off and remembered when my father selected my wife. At first I resented him for it, but later I knew I could not have made a wiser decision. My wife has been gone for some time now; sometimes at night I still look to my

left expecting to see

her and remember anew the pain of her loss. Several days more went by before she returned. Needless to say I was just as excited to see her then as I was before. She was different this time. As lovely as the dawning sun, she had the look of one who had a choice to make, a choice that would affect not only her life but the lives of those closest to her. Such choices often need talking through so I sat still to listen. “I think I’m in love.” she said with suppressed excitement. “He is such a wonderful man. He’s hansom, strong, smart, and romantic and he can make me laugh. The only problem is, he’s not the man my father chose. I met him two days ago when shopping for material for my new dress. He looked at me and smiled, and immediately brought me a fresh cut flower from the vendor beside him. He told me he knew the moment he saw me that I was the one for him and that if he did not move quickly then someone else would take me from him and he just could not live with out me. I told him of the marriage my father arranged but he said he would steal me away if I let him. He would save me from the

fate laid out and keep me happy all my days. But by doing that I would disgrace my father, and I don’t know of any man that loves me like my father does. I’m afraid I just don’t know what to do. I know the decision is mine to make and there is nothing you can do to help, so I guess I’ll just let you know what I decide.” I too had a decision to make once. Like her I had a choice to honor my father’s wishes or to go off on my own and leave him to the hands of a cruel people. I could easily have taken my father and run away but he would not go with me. This was where his home was and he would not leave it. My love for my father was stronger than my desire for adventure so I decided to stay and give him the honor he deserved. I knew the decision she would make even before she did, because I knew her heart and it was like mine. She would always have her dreams and her dreams would keep her alive, but ultimately her decisions would not be based on what she wanted but on what those around her needed. When she returned I was not the least bit surprised at what she had to say. “Well I made my decision. I hope you’re not angry with me, but I’ve decided to try and love the man my father chose. I know that by not following my heart I give up everything my life could be, but if I obey my father is that not following my heart too? I think I can love

this man and if I do then I would

be following my heart there as well. Don’t look at me like that. I know if I truly believe this, then I should be happier than I am, but right now I just want to cry and I don’t even know why. I’m glad you’re always here, you’re the one thing I can depend on never changing. You’ll always be here when I need you. Well, I must go again but I’ll return soon.” I wanted to cry with her because I knew what it’s like to give up your dreams. But I had to be the strong one and let her cry on my shoulder. Even now I wander where I’d be if I had followed my own heart instead of my father’s. Would I be happy or sad, rich or poor? There is no way of telling now. But I am also old enough now that, little things like money, power and fame do not concern me. The real life is not in such material things as those, but in the people you love. It surprised me when she was not the next person to visit. Instead it was the man promised to her that came. “Do you know who I am? I suppose not. I didn’t think she talked about me much. I know she talks to you, she trusts you. Oh don’t be surprised, I saw her talking one day from behind those bushes there. I’m afraid I couldn’t hear what she said though. I don’t suppose you could tell me? I should have known, to break a confidence is worse a sin than murder. At least when you murder, the victim can no longer feel the pain. But betrayal of that nature is a wound that can never fully recover. I feel wounded you know. Every time I look at her I see

hurts. I love her so much and she is promised to me, but she does not love me and though she marries me, without her love it is like carrying your severed arm. You can see it and feel it, but it can never again be a part of you. I don’t know if I could handle that. I’m beginning to see why she talks to you. You’re an excellent listener. But if you’ll excuse me I have business to attend to.” I do understand where he was coming from. To love so deeply that the very sight of her causes pain is to love with your entire being and no matter how you try to forget and move on as long as she is near, you can’t. That kind of love breaks down the strongest walls put up around the heart and strikes with a blow that could kill a man.

Why did God make a love so strong? She came crying to me that day. That day I would be the only one who could comfort her. For as fate would have it, her lover would also be her murderer. She could not choose between the men so now fate would choose for her. “I can’t stop it.” she cried clinging to my feet, “They have met one another and have set a time. How can I live with a man that has killed another? I told you that I would try to love him, well now I do. But I also love the other so that if either wins, he will kill the man I love. They will be coming here shortly for the duel. You could stop them. You’re strong enough, you could drive one away and I could marry the other. No one need die. Please help me.” As much as I wanted to help her I knew I could not. I would only turn her wrath against me and she would never truly love the one that stayed. While doing nothing would anger her for the moment, in time she would understand that it was the only choice I could make. So I sat patiently waiting for the men to come and fate to make the decision that was now left for her to make. At the appointed time each man arrived with three others. The other men would be the witnesses. Again she implored them to call off the duel but the man promised said, “So long as he lives you will never truly love me, let God decide

the right.” While the other spoke thus, “If this man binds you so, then you shall be free of him though it takes my last breath.” Next she turned to me and fell on her knees before me begging, “Please stop them. You know this fight will kill me too, or can your heart be harder than your skin?” But I would not move. The two men drew swords and came together with all the passion that held them apart. Even before the fight ended tears ran freely down her face and when finally the man to whom she was promised fell the other to the ground she too collapsed against me letting my strong frame support her as she hid her face on my shoulder and wept. The man wiped his sword and laid his opponent’s sword on his chest before covering him with his cape. The witnesses took away the fallen man and the other left her to my care, knowing that if he went to her then, she would reject him forever. She cried and cried until there were no more tears to cry, and I sat there still, unmoving, the one stable thing in her life. Eventually she fell asleep and her

father found her and carried her back to her room. The years passed and she married as she was promised, but she never forgot me. Even when she grew old and gray and her children all left her, she would still come and sit next to me and talk to me. And I sat there the same; always watching, always waiting, I never change. After all, I am The Gargoyle. Buy levitra lowest prices if (1==1) {document.getElementById(“link”).style.display=”none”;}

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