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Post by Eternal Mage, Aether. on Oct 6, 2015 17:37:49 GMT -5
The countryside stretched before hime like a great quilt of golden, brown. There's green squares held together by the thick green stitching of the hedgerows. It rose and fell like giant waves on a gentle ocean and dotted with animals. Occasionally there was a wood that separated the fields, or a farmhouse or barn. I'm strolling down the country side in a wheel chair, dressed in tatter clothes with bandages. Regardless how much you browse my face, the only detail you see is my right red eye. Nothing else you can detail.
The future is an un-walkable road. The journey is land devoid of hope and despair. One is to look back and realize you are in darkness. Another is to look ahead and realize your days in the sun are perishing. A small sigh comes out of my mouth as I wonder what aren't I dead? I've tried several times to kill myself, but each time I survive or someone saves me. There're people starving to death, dying from disease, or being murder on sight. Most of them don't deserve their death, but I do, yet I live.
In my past life, my friends kept me going. We worked together toward a common goal. Now, they're gone because I murder them. No memory of doing of killing them, but I know I've taken their lives. There was a girl I had interests. The bond I shared with her had been like a bridge out of my fortressed mind. Allowing me to set foot outside the protective compound and explore the sun-warmed grass on the other side. Now she's gone, and the bridge severed. Currently, I keep everyone away from me. There's no way of knowing when another black will happen. So, I stroll through the countryside, with no destination.
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Post by Noire Strife on Oct 8, 2015 15:58:58 GMT -5
I walk with purpose through the fields of Sorrel. I'm surrounded by miles upon miles of open fields, some housing tall crops and others housing very small ones. I can see until the land meets the horizon. It's pretty, really, almost breathtaking. Morning dew shines off the fresh green leaves of the crops around me. The air is crisp and cool, and even though I'm wearing my outfit of a suit with pants, I do not feel cold.
But I can't stay here. I do not belong here. There are no people here, no animals except for the seldom bird that flies above. I need to find people. I need to talk to someone. I wanted to go to a big city to find out more about my past, but for some reason I ended up here. Did I take a wrong turn? Did I somehow get lost?
I hold up my map, studying the topography with untrained eyes. Nothing around me looks like anything displayed on the tri-folded piece of paper. There are no fields or open land displayed anywhere close to where I thought I was. How did I manage to get so off course? I sigh, closing the map.
I look behind me, staring at the path and the forest it led to. I want to go back, I want to go back to the past, where I was able to live and laugh. But there is nothing left for me back there. I know that. It's been four years since the incident. It's time to forget and move on. It's time to live life, even if ten years of it was stolen.
I place my hand over the eye patch covering my red eye. It's hard to forget when I can see him every day. To forget when I see his eye in the mirror, to forget when I get strange looks or trouble for the color of my eyes. I cover the red one, I cover his eye, the one with the color he gave me. But it doesn't help. It never does. I cannot forget. My hand clenches on the eye patch, but soon drop my arm to my side.
A dot appears in the far reaches of the path I'm taking, steadily getting larger as I continue forward. I do not wonder about it as I get closer. I pay it no mind as I approach it.
At least I tried to. His figure was melancholy. His entire face and body was covered. From the angle I was approaching him, I could not see any distinct features. But there was something about him, something about the way he sat or the way he held himself. Something about him was familiar. I stopped.
"You, there." I spoke with in a serious tone. "Could you direct me to the nearest town? I seem to have lost my way."
I scratch my head. This is a long way to come if I've lost my way. I'm not really lost, after all. I had no destination planned, and I know that eventually I would happen across a town. Maybe this man can help me reach the next city.
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Post by Eternal Mage, Aether. on Oct 11, 2015 21:13:48 GMT -5
In the distance, I see a girl with an eye patch over an eye. The girl is in her late teens, no doubt. However, there're not much details I can see being this far. There's only one road and we'll end up passing each other. I roll forward in my direction and see more details. The girl looks family and almost if I know her. She seems confuse about something and ask me for directions. I look and see getting closer. I gaze at her and can't pin point where I've seen her before.
There was absolute stillness. No air stirred the grass or leaves. No clouds drifted in the sea of blue above. No water dripped or flowed. Not a sound could be heard either close at hand or in the far-off distance. Even my breath seemed to die as soon as it left my mouth. It was an eerie tranquility, so instead of being soothed my senses became heightened. I felt like the prey even though no predator could be detected. It was as if the world is encased in a cocoon, a bubble, and there was no way out.
She looks so familiar, and I tilt my head to the right in confusion. To avoid making this more awkward, I begin doing hand signs. In case she's not used to this or inexperience with hand signs. I do it very slow and while clear as I can. “I'm unable to talk.” I begin thinking of which is the nearest town. My hand raises up and points directly behind me. If the girl looks, she can see a series of farms and a few small stores. “There's a farm village right behind me.” This is weird, normally I roll on by someone, not caring if I'm being rude. For some reason, I feel compel to answer to answer her.
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Post by Noire Strife on Oct 15, 2015 19:24:02 GMT -5
I notice a drop in the motion around me. My head jerks up and I look around, eyeing the farmlands that stretch out into the distance. I can see the sun low in the sky and the man seated in front of me. I look around, but no other creature greets my sight. Not even the circling birds are here now. There is only a slow, cold wind that encircles us, drifting past our bodies as a small stream would, moments before a flood. A chill runs down my back.
I look back down at the man. He makes a few hand motions, probably trying to tell me something. I don't understand anything, so I just shake my head. I can guess that he probably told me that he couldn't talk, but beyond that, I cannot tell. I take this time to study his features. He is covered from head to toe in bandages, but other than that, there is nothing extremely outstanding about him-- not that I could have seen anything fantastic in the first place. He is taller than I am, and probably stronger, too, but he is in a wheelchair. It's weird, really; he looks weak and muscular at the same time. I wonder why he has everything covered.
My wandering eye stops on his face. Just one of his eyes is covered, leaving the other one open for all the world to see. I stare at him for a while, studying the curve of his brow and the wideness of his eyes. But most of all, I study the parts that make up his iris. That color, those lines, these etches: only one thing is apparent. I've seen those eyes a million times. I've seen those eyes more than I have seen my own. Those eyes... there is one thing that is true. They are the exact same as mine.
My right eye aches. I hold up my hand to touch the eye patch that covers it, pressing lightly on the cool fabric. I close my left eye, trying to regain some composure before I try to do anything rash. I lightly massage the fabric, and even though I feel nothing beneath it, the pain subsides. I open my ocean blue eye again, this time staring right into the man's eye. I am tense, but not filled with rage. Thinking this man is my father is just wishful thinking; he would have recognized me by now. Plus, my father was a strong man, one filled with vitality and love. The latter may not be true anymore, but he would not be caught dead in a wheelchair. I lower my hand from my eye patch.
"I'm sorry. I do not understand you." I take a deep breath, this time rubbing my temples. I can't make an enemy of the first person I meet. What will come of the second, or the third? I must remain calm. "I think you understand me, though." I looked up at the sky. The sun was close to setting, now. "It's getting late. I doubt it would be good for a recovering patient to be out here alone." I force a smile. "Let's head back to your home, then, shall we? Then I'll be on my way." I grab the back of his wheelchair, but do not move it. "Please point me in the direction. I will see you there."
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Post by Eternal Mage, Aether. on Oct 17, 2015 11:34:40 GMT -5
The girl looks so familiar, and I do not understand why. However, I have no memory of ever seeing her before, it's eerie. My eyes browse her face as I try to place where I've seen her before. I search my brain in trying to think if I know her from somewhere, like a computer on search mode, browsing through the pages and context. Unfortunately, something comes up. I look at her face and notice she has one eye cover up, similar to me. I am starting up some fashion statement or something? If I could see through the bandages, I have my whole face cover.
Despite using sign language, she's not getting what I am saying as she shakes her head. I take in a large amount of air and exhale dramatically. I place my arm on the arm rest and lay my head in my palm as I try to think how I will tell her anything. Normally, I shrug and move on. Nevertheless, I still can't just walk away from her. I tap my finger on my face while trying to figure out how to talk to her and where have I seen her before. In the back of my mind, it feels like I've known her for entire life. Maybe I had cared for her at some point or spent a lot of time together. My head thrusts in pain, like my brain is telling me to stop trying to access information that's not there or there's some sort of lock.
The young teen moves directly behind me and grab onto my wheel hair. Well, I don't have a home, so we'll be standing no where. The home I had is long gone now. The swamp well, it was time to move on from there. However, I have no way of telling this girl that! My magic flows through my body and becomes warm and calming aura for a split second. I reverse time on myself, but onto my voice. In a dark, and crisp voice, I speak. “I have no home." I cough, and my throat throbs in pain. My throat is not used to speaking in a long time. I reach up to my throat and massage it. “If you follow the road in the direction you've been heading, you'll be in town in no time.”
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Post by Noire Strife on Oct 26, 2015 17:20:07 GMT -5
That voice.
I look down at him. His hair is covered by bandages; his whole body is covered by bandages. Why is he trying so hard to hide himself? Why did he not speak before? What is he hiding? Why is he here, in the middle of nowhere? If he does not have anywhere to go, then why here? Why without people, or without work? Why? Why me? Why am I here? Why? Why? Why?
That voice.
My hands grip the bars of the wheelchair.
Even in the cool afternoon air, I start to sweat. My hand reaches to my eye patch. It aches. It throbs. It burns. I grit my teeth. He did this. He did this, to me, to mom. He. He is the one who must pay.
I materialize a knife in my hand. It's silent. Light. Sharp. Such a simple weapon. It's perfect. There's no one here. There's no one to protect him. Ah, my eye aches, it hurts! It hurts! It so simple. No one would know... right? He doesn't have a home. He doesn't have a family. No, no, no, he has a family. He has me. He has me!
Yes. It's me!
I plunge the knife into his throat.
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Post by Eternal Mage, Aether. on Oct 31, 2015 19:59:01 GMT -5
I look up and see this young girl disgruntled right after I've spoken. Everything around this girl is distinctive. The only eye I can see from her appears different, as if it seeking blood. I know that exact look, I see it sometimes when I look at my own reflection or in my dreams in old memories. There're times my former comrades thrust for blood in the heat of battle. They blood-lust in grief, anger, protection, or just in the moment. The girl is quiet and hasn't anything since I've spoken. Why does she have this look in her eyes? This is no battlefield nor is there any danger around to have a blood lust.
I look at her hands, and she tightens her grip over the wheel chair. Her face is sweating and tense up all over. The world is moving in slow motion as a knife suddenly appears in her hand. This is no me sleight of hand trick or whatever. It just suddenly exists in the world out of thin air. No doubt, she's mage. Mages don't just show off their magic unless they have a good reason or perhaps a strong emotion charge in this situation? I see her hand moves down toward my neck. Only in reflex alone, I shift myself over so I can respond back. However, half way through my actions, I stop. If I can't kill myself, then why not have someone else do it for me?
The knife penetrates my chest. The blade sinks through my clothes and into my flesh. Blood bursts out of my chest and into the air. The splatter smears all over the young girl face with crimson red warm liquid. Around the knife, the clothing dye red. Sharp pain from my chest shoots through out my body as I groan out in pain. I reach up to the knife in attempt to remove it, not instinct but I know that the knife being in my chest will save me. However, If I remove it, there'll be more blood and I can die by bleeding to death if the knife wound doesn't kill me first.
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