.
.
.
The sky was dark and growing darker by the minute. It felt cool, the air brushing up against anything that dared pose as an obstacle. Lenz happened to be an obstacle, the goose flesh rippling across her forearms and legs. She sighed, racking her brain for any thoughts, any at all.
There was no epiphany or spark that was ignited in her mind. She knew the symptoms of boredom, for she had experienced them fairly well many times before. Only a season ago she had been so fatigued of doing absolutely nothing that she had grown tired, depressed even.
She had also taken it upon herself to grow vivid images in her sleep. They consisted of wishes and desires, some incredibly impractical such as flying. For some that may sound natural for a dream, but for her it was highly abnormal. Her dreams were simple and peaceful, not much adventure filling them when she rested.
She was feeling this way now, restless and partially aching, her feet starting to throb and itch with the need to do something.
She had stared at walls and had glanced at sundials, the ones that were available to her at the time. Everything her eyes landed on gave her no incentive for imagination.
She always needed a distraction. Ever since the last person she cared about had passed away, murdered by the hands of a cruel criminal, she had needed some sort of distraction. It was that or throw away the last threads of sanity she clung to with much desperation.
Her hands began to grow clammy, her forehead sprouting small beads of sweat as she looked around, her mind racing with thoughts and then… flashbacks.
“No,” she cried, taking hold of several strands of hair and ripping them from out of her scalp. “No!” She took another few wispy curls in between her fingers and pulled them clean out of her head, the pain all but unbearable. “No!”
’You have gone completely and utterly mad, or is this an infallible assumption?
With a fistful or hair, she lolled her head to the side, resisting the temptation to yank her hand away. Tears started to stream down her face, but not from the discomfort that radiated down the back of her neck, but instead, her chest. Her heart hurt much worse than her head, its pain pulsing without rhythm, and without purpose.
“No.”
You disagree with the logic so obviously portrayed from your recent actions?
“No,” she said.
Then what be your argument; the reasoning behind the negative?
Suddenly a shrill noise came from out of her mouth; a cackle so high pitched it could have been misinterpreted for a scream. She lowered her voice, her vocal chords choosing between two different octaves. She started to giggle hysterically, closing her eyes as she did only to snap them open again.
Yes. Completely mad; out of her head! Said the voice, pointedly.
“It is time for some magic.” The words were abruptly said, and completely unexpected, causing even herself to react surprised and taken aback.
Are you sure that would be wise? Why now of all times?
“Because,” she countered intuitively. “I said so.”
.
.
3rd of Summer, 514 AV
The sky was dark and growing darker by the minute. It felt cool, the air brushing up against anything that dared pose as an obstacle. Lenz happened to be an obstacle, the goose flesh rippling across her forearms and legs. She sighed, racking her brain for any thoughts, any at all.
There was no epiphany or spark that was ignited in her mind. She knew the symptoms of boredom, for she had experienced them fairly well many times before. Only a season ago she had been so fatigued of doing absolutely nothing that she had grown tired, depressed even.
She had also taken it upon herself to grow vivid images in her sleep. They consisted of wishes and desires, some incredibly impractical such as flying. For some that may sound natural for a dream, but for her it was highly abnormal. Her dreams were simple and peaceful, not much adventure filling them when she rested.
She was feeling this way now, restless and partially aching, her feet starting to throb and itch with the need to do something.
She had stared at walls and had glanced at sundials, the ones that were available to her at the time. Everything her eyes landed on gave her no incentive for imagination.
She always needed a distraction. Ever since the last person she cared about had passed away, murdered by the hands of a cruel criminal, she had needed some sort of distraction. It was that or throw away the last threads of sanity she clung to with much desperation.
Her hands began to grow clammy, her forehead sprouting small beads of sweat as she looked around, her mind racing with thoughts and then… flashbacks.
“No,” she cried, taking hold of several strands of hair and ripping them from out of her scalp. “No!” She took another few wispy curls in between her fingers and pulled them clean out of her head, the pain all but unbearable. “No!”
’You have gone completely and utterly mad, or is this an infallible assumption?
With a fistful or hair, she lolled her head to the side, resisting the temptation to yank her hand away. Tears started to stream down her face, but not from the discomfort that radiated down the back of her neck, but instead, her chest. Her heart hurt much worse than her head, its pain pulsing without rhythm, and without purpose.
“No.”
You disagree with the logic so obviously portrayed from your recent actions?
“No,” she said.
Then what be your argument; the reasoning behind the negative?
Suddenly a shrill noise came from out of her mouth; a cackle so high pitched it could have been misinterpreted for a scream. She lowered her voice, her vocal chords choosing between two different octaves. She started to giggle hysterically, closing her eyes as she did only to snap them open again.
Yes. Completely mad; out of her head! Said the voice, pointedly.
“It is time for some magic.” The words were abruptly said, and completely unexpected, causing even herself to react surprised and taken aback.
Are you sure that would be wise? Why now of all times?
“Because,” she countered intuitively. “I said so.”
