I walked into the room, bare of furniture save a polished teak table with a single crystal wine decanter sitting directly in the center.

Sparkling idly in the half-light, the decanter was shaped like an elongated pear; its tapered neck leading down to a rounded belly filled with dark red liquid. Only about a third full, even the color of the wine bled expensive taste, promising heavenly flavor.

The crystal etchings were sharp and severe, each ridge and curve flowing into the next in a symphony of crystalline delicacy. Looking like a frozen sea, the etchings were arranged in a snowflake shape that started at the heart of the decanter and stretched up and out, the tendrils of fineness touching every inch of its gleaming surface.

Reaching out, I touched it with one finger.  The glass was cool and smooth against my skin, the swirling designs felt hard and deliberate.  I gently flicked the decanter.

A lonely warbling note rang out, piercing the air with its high and tremulous sounds.  Stillness filled the room as the peal faded away, captured purity in its essence.  

Ripples appeared in the wine, slight disturbances skittering lightly across the surface of the red liquid.  I watched, transfixed by the sudden flurry.  

The door opened.  A young woman walked in, her face shadowed as she approached the table.  As she came into the light, I was struck by her beauty.  

Tall and slender, she stood with the controlled grace of a ballerina; her long legs and thin ankles were crossed attractively , one in front of the other. Clear, soft skin, the color of magnolia blossoms, glowed with a creamy light.  Golden hair like gleaming flax hung straight down her back in thick, shiny sheets, setting off the alabaster skin to perfection.  Black lashes cast shadow crescents on high cheekbones accentuating the hot pink flush.  Cupid’s bow lips were set in a tight hard line, emphasizing their rosy red color.  

Her eyes were chilling.  Startling amethystine violet, they were fierce and fiery.  Savage brightness illuminated their deep purple depths.  Laced with stormy silver tendrils they were luminescent and vehement, only enhancing her sultry radiance.  

She looked nothing like the girl I loved.

“Satara,” I said with a confidence I did not feel, “you’re back.”

She stepped forward, a murderous gleam in those gemstone eyes.  “Yes, Jason,” she snarled, spitting my name like a curse, “I’ve returned.  But only to deliver a message.”

“Oh?  And what’s that?”

She wrapped her slim fingers around the neck of the decanter and squeezed as if she could break the crystal.  Looking back up into my eyes she continued to strangle it.  

I was entranced by the color of those eyes, unable to look away.

“My sister is dead.”

“What?”

A roar louder than all the waves in the ocean filled my ears and filled my head with searing heat.  Blood began to fill my eyes and the redness tinged my vision.

Satara screamed and threw the decanter, it shattered inches from me, spattering my clothes and leaving bloody crimson stains.  

“She’s dead, Greek,” she shrieked, “Sahar is dead!”