“All she wanted for her birthday was a new bike, and I failed to get it for her.” Her mother was heard to say woefully.

Little Maera O’Carrick had just entered her junior year of high school when she passed away. Maera was a girl with blond hair that reflected the sunlight and seemed almost red at times. Her eyes were thought to be the most remarkable thing about her at times. They were an engaging greenish-blue color. They changed with her mood, making them seem soulful and tantalizing. You could always see what Maera was feeling, even if she didn’t want you to. She had freckles dusted lightly across her nose accenting her lively eyes. Little wasn’t just a pet name. Maera was incredibly short and slight in frame. She stood only five feet tall and weighed roughly 120 pounds. She was known to wave and holler out a greeting to any being she came across. Everyone had come to know her warm and lively smile.

Maera had been on her way to the local pub known as Connor’s Brew. Connor’s Brew had been since the beginning of Ireland as far as Maera was concerned. The building was one of the oldest in her little town and it was also the only pub in her area. On her way she had come across a bike, almost in pristine condition.

Maera had wanted a bike like this for ages and had asked for one for her recent birthday. She had ended up with things she found completely useless instead. She detested her new stereo. She detested her new skirts. She detested her new sneakers, but most of all, she detested her old bike. Said old bike was in pretty bad shape as Maera had owned it since she was six. The gears on her bike popped and the basket had fallen off years ago. There was rust on the spurs of the tires and she couldn’t shift gears if she wanted to. Although this bike had transported Maera to and from school since she was six years old, she still despised it.

Maera stood coveting this nearly new bike. This bike that had no rust spots, could shift gears, didn’t have flat tires, and was still splendidly silver. She wanted it for her own. Maera was half debating stealing the bike when her best friend Kian McMurray showed up. He put one hand on the bike, unknowingly showing Maera that the bike belonged to her dearest friend. Kian smiled at her with his warm, engaging smile. Maera forced a smile back at him and hoped it looked natural on her face.

“Oh, please, let him buy the smile, just for today.” Maera thought.

Kian looked at Maera doubtfully for a few moments but then shrugged it off. Maera let out her pent up breath.

“Hey, Maera, I’m stopping by Granny’s for a bit. Want to come with?” Kian asked of her.

Maera thought about it for a few moments.

“Kian, I would but it’s such a long walk. By the time we get back it’ll be dark and I won’t have a ride home either. Sorry.” Maera said truly feeling remorse.

Kian only smiled.

“Don’t be silly. You can ride on the handlebars the way you used to when we were kids and you didn’t bring your bike. “Kian replied easily.

“Well, I don’t know. I’m kind of wearing a skirt.” Maera said.

Kian laughed at that. Maera smiled at his easy laughter and her eyes danced with the smile.

“When has that ever stopped you before Maera O’Carrick? Come on. It’ll be just like old times again.” Kian coaxed.

Maera gave in rather easily. She did want to ride on that bike.

“Oh, alright McMurray, but you had better get me home before supper or my mother will skin you alive.” Maera threatened.

Kian smiled.

“Oh that I know, Little Maera. I used to frequent your house quite often now didn’t I?” Kian said with a bright smile and a wink.

Maera had just made the decision that would end in her death but she wasn’t aware of that quite yet.

Maera sat on the handlebars and hung on the way she had when she had been little. Kian started to peddle and off they went. Maera watched the familiar scenery pass her by. The lush green grass swayed to a gentle breeze and was soon devoured by hungry sheep. A large windmill stood rotating slowly in the wind as Maera and Kian passed. Maera let out a carefree laugh while throwing her arms out to her sides. Kian looked up at Maera adoringly. When she looked back Maera saw Kian’s smile and couldn’t help but to truly smile back at him.
They were halfway to Kian’s grandmother’s house when a group of tourists stopped them to take a picture. Maera and Kian hopped off of the bike to take the picture. Maera took the camera and waited while the tourists got themselves ready. Kian stood by with another camera that had been produced. The tourists situated themselves on a stone wall that lined the road and faced the cameras with small smiles.

“So, what is it like living in Ireland?” A female tourist asked.

Maera responded with “Quiet and peaceful but only if you’re not with one of the McMurrays mind you.”

Kian responded with “Aye, quiet and homely, as long as you don’t get caught up with the O’Carricks.”

Both Maera and Kian laughed when the tourists looked baffled.

“Maera O’Carrick, the blond haired she-devil with sea goddess eyes.” Kian said pointing to Maera.

“Kian McMurray, the dark-haired daemon king with grey faerie prince eyes.” Maera said pointing to Kian.

The tourists started laughing at that. Maera raised the camera and got ready for the shot, as did Kian. One of the tourists gave a thumbs up and suddenly Maera’s world went black.

Maera awoke after her body was slammed into the floor. She felt herself moving before her eyes actually opened. When her eyes finally did open, Maera caught a glimpse of wildlife going by through a closed window. Maera recognized it as part of her homeland. That meant they were still in the Eire, they couldn’t have made it too far.

Maera suddenly remembered Kian. He had been there with her. She started to panic. Was he alright? Had he been hurt? A flood of emotions flew over Maera. She couldn’t let anything happen to him. She relaxed when she heard a familiar groan of discomfort.

“Kian?” Maera whispered.

“Maera? Is that you?” Kian asked.

Maera replied with a quaint “yes”.

“Quiet back there!” A deep masculine voice snapped.

Maera and Kian didn’t say another word the entire ride. They were terrified of what might happen if they did say something. If they had spoken, they might have been spared in the end.

The ride finally ended after what seemed hours to Maera. She felt the car jerk to a stop and heard a car door open. Moments later she was being dragged towards a large Victorian style house. Maera could hear footsteps behind her. She prayed that they were Kian’s and that he hadn’t been taken elsewhere.

Once in the house, Maera was immediately amazed. The inside was splendorous and magnificent wherever your eyes happened to wander. The spiral staircase was made of marble and there was a crystal chandelier hanging in the center of the ceiling. The walls had priceless paintings and tapestries. There were vases filled with elaborate bouquets of exotic flowers. Every where she looked she saw something rare and beautiful. Maera had to wonder why she was being taken here of all places. What type of kidnappers would hole up in this kind of place? Maera decided the majority of the kidnappers would have to be female to choose such a place as this. She figured only females could have such exquisite tastes. She couldn’t have known how wrong she was.

“Move.” Maera’s captor ordered.

Maera started forward. Her captor led her through a series of halls and stairs that were of a complexity that Maera had never dreamt of. Maera stared slack mouthed as she was led through this maze, taking in everything as she went.

All at once, Maera found herself in front of a large wooden door. Her captor opened the door and shoved her through its opening. Her small body thudded to the ground and Maera barely had enough time to catch herself so she wouldn’t hit her head. As Maera tried to lift herself from the ground, something slammed into her body, causing her to fall again.
All of the breath rushed out of Maera’s body. The heavy mass that had knocked her to the floor rolled off of her. Maera lay there, trying to catch her breath. She could faintly hear the sound of another person’s breathing.

“Kian?” Maera asked timidly.

“Maera?” Kian’s voice replied.

Maera sat up after catching her breath and found him lying on the floor; blood was splattered across his face.

“Oh my! Kian!” Maera called out.

Kian sat up slowly and smiled that everlasting grin. He wiped some of the blood from his face and winced. He looked at Maera with a certain dare-devil look in his eyes.

“Relax, Maera. Most of this belongs to the brute who threw me in here.” Kian said easily.

“And the rest?” Maera asked worriedly.

“Split lip. Punched me in the mouth, he did.” Kian reassured.

Maera threw her arms around him tightly. She started to weep.

“Oh you bloody fool, Kian McMurray. “Maera sobbed.

Kian held Maera close to him. He stroked her hair in gentle affection.

“I know, but you still adore me.” Kian teased.

Maera thought back to all of the time they’d spent together as children. She remembered the day that she and Kian had finally finished their tree fort. It had taken them months but they had done it. They’d never felt more accomplished. She remembered the day that they had both learned to ride their bikes. Maera had gotten the hang of it right away but Kian had fallen half a dozen times. She had cleaned out each of his scrapes and put bandages on them. She remembered the day that Kian had broken his arm and gotten a cast on it. Maera remembered trying to break her arm as well to match Kian. Maera had always had Faerie luck on her side though and hadn’t broken her arm. Maera remembered when Kian was fifteen and he had kissed her in their tree fort. She remembered the sparks that had flown but the rejection she had instead given. She hadn’t wanted to lose his friendship. Maera remembered the day she and Kian had gone to watch fireworks together. He had held her hand throughout the entire show. Maera remembered every last memory she had with her best friend.

Maera looked into Kian’s eyes and kissed him with everything she had in her tiny body. Kian kissed back just as passionately. He was shocked by Maera’s ferocity though. He had never known her to be this passionate about anything. Kian pulled back and looked into her eyes trying to decipher what was going on in her head. Maera chewed on her lip and looked down, tears in her eyes. She was afraid of what Kian was going to say.

“I guess this would be a good time to confess, huh?” Kian asked.

Maera looked up at that cautiously. She wasn’t expecting a confession from Kian, but cold hard rejection.

“Confess what?” Maera asked in the tiniest whisper.

“I love you Maera O’Carrick. I always have. “Kian admitted.

The heavy wooden door swung open and Kian was violently ripped from Maera’s arms.

“Say good bye princess. He won’t be coming back.” One of the captors snarled.

“No!” Maera screamed.

Maera ran at him but he knocked her easily aside. Maera went to get up and the captor delivered a swift kick to her abdomen. Maera tried to get up again even though she knew he would just throw her down once more.

“Maera! Stay down. It won’t do any good to fight anymore. We’re done.” Kian said defeated.

Kian didn’t want to see her hurt anymore. He thought that he might still be able to save her if she stayed down.

Maera looked up at him, taking in every one of his features for the last time.

“I love you Maera.” Kian called as he was being dragged away.

“I love you too Kian Mc Murray!” Maera called as Kian was being dragged away.

Kian closed his eyes and let his sweet smile play across his lips one last time.
Maera memorized that smile, along with his chiseled features, dark brown, almost black hair, and his grey lively eyes. She memorized the way his clothes sat just right on his body and the way his hands were artistic even at rest. And then he was gone. Maera cried for a while on her own and worried about Kian. She jumped when she heard a gunshot ring out. It was then that Maera knew she was next and came to peace with it.

The captors came back. Maera didn’t try to pay attention to her surroundings as she passed them. She knew that there was no escape. He led Maera to a small room in the house.

In the room there were only two chairs positioned facing each other on the dark hardwood floor. In one chair sat a man, looking to be about twenty years old. He had jet black hair and stunning green eyes. He wore a finely tailored suit but none of that mattered to Maera. The man gestured to the chair facing him. Maera sat solemnly.

“I’m an author and I’m gathering life stories. Would you care to share yours?” The young man asked Maera.

She nodded. She told him about Kian. He listened intently, taking notes as she spoke. After she had finished the author finished his notes, set down his pen and looked Maera in the eyes.

“Thank you for your contribution. Sadly, this is going to have to be goodbye.” The young man said as he pointed a gun at her chest.

Maera didn’t even have time to blink as the bullet ripped through her heart. Before her heart stopped Maera was heard to have said one word, a name.

“Kian.”

Three days after both Maera O’Carrick and Kian McMurray had gone missing their bodies were found by a local farmer. Both bodies had been laid in a silo next to each other. Maera and Kian’s hands were entwined together as they lay in their eternal slumber.