A crystal rose grows in a sea of sand. No one knows its beauty, or even if it carries a sent, no one that is accept the fair lady.
She braves the threat the sea of sand appears to have. Yet the sea has no bite, the dangers only an illusion.
She feeds and cares for the rose from time to time. She expects nothing in return.
The crystal is as clear as the fair ladies tears, its surface smoother than the finest silks. But only she will ever know these things.
The night comes and the lady is gone. The sea of sand becomes ever so dark, cold as ice. The rose becomes invisible, swallowed whole by the night.
That is when he comes. A man as black as the night itself. Now only he can see the rose.
Sorcerer he is. Looking into the crystal he sees her. Seeing her he feels welcome, wanted, and human once more.
His vampiric nature is swayed by her kindness. A kindness she gives freely and happily. He sighs a heavy sigh for he knows he is unworthy and undeserving.
But he looks into the crystal and sees her. For a moment he is happy remembering her, thinking again of her kindness. But the night is almost over.
Again he must disappear as the night does. He remembers her kindness for him and a tear washes his cheek, falling to the sand. A new rose forms, but not of crystal.
The lady once again returns to the sea of sand. Returning to see the rose of crystal.
To her surprise the crystal is no longer alone, crouching she reaches out to the true rose.
Soft as rabbit fur are its petals. Its light due covering moistening her fingers.
She withdraws her hand in surprise, for the crystal is no more, only a man.
Copyright Eric Stryker 1988, 1997, 2001