A small yet significant society brought forth the story of Emberline. A con who has managed to secure herself as a nurse despite having nothing to qualify. And of Nicholas Vials, a well-groomed and slightly cheery boy who has vowed to uncover the mystery of his brother's gruesome murder. A search that leads a revolution in the streets of Curida. Soon, during his on going search, he grows up in deep love for Emberline. 

But love is easy to declare, and heavy to portray. And this love for each other is tested in every way because there are many to oppose this affair. As Nicholas embarks on the journey to find his brother's killer, Emberline finds herself lost and she comes across Baldwin, who is willing to do anything to protect himself and those he loves. 

A distance, no matter how many fortnights away, can never keep their attachment at bay, so only with resentment, are they kept away. And by conflict only, do we see their lives entangled again.

A story that exists due to the fear of detachment, abandonment, and heartbreak. All of which are rooted in both fanciers. And all those who are brought together by this romance.

...

Emberline lay still, her eyes widened in fear as he held her hand, gently caressing her palm. 

"I love your hands, whenever I touch them, I am reminded of my lifetime of victories" he paused, looking back to Emberline. "I adore your smile, it makes me believe I can make you happy," Emberline was visibly distressed, her eyes threatening to flood, "And I am mesmerized by your eyes," she stifled a cry as he passed her a gentle smile. It wasn't filled with his usual warmth, which was stiff and lazy. His smile was rather ominous, unsettling and lacked the charm she lived by.

"But that is all I love about you," he said, his daunting declaration left a dent in her memory that she knew she couldn't forget, a cold ran down her spine as she gazed back at the man who once said he couldn't live a day without her.

Nicholas Vials: The Case Of Michael Vials

Nicholas left the park with a restless pace, his thoughts an unwelcome tide of contradictions. The air bit at his skin, sharp enough to keep him from slipping too far into his mind but not enough to distract him from the question that kept repeating itself: Were the Curidians wrong? And was he, by association, wrong as well? 


Canines