59 Summer, 511 AV Aello was standing in the center of one of Ravok's many alleyways. This one was quieter than most however, for it was nestled between two slender canals, and the only way to get on or off was by way of an old, rickety wooden bridge, which seemed as though it could collapse into the deep, dark depths of Lake Ravok at any moment. And although it had creaked beneath the weight of her step, Aello was not afraid, knowing that it had withstood her presence before, and that if she did fall, the shore was not all that far away. Aello's things had been stacked only a few feet away from the bridge- her bag on the bottom of the pile, her father's old bow leaning up against that. Her quiver resting just by its side, while her black cloak was draped over the top, as though to conceal what lay beneath, or perhaps, to keep it warm, as though it were some sort of make-shift blanket. Yune had long ago left the girl's shoulder, choosing to take to the sky, stretching her wings. The sky was clear, not a cloud in the sky, the sun dominating the soft blue with its soft yellow and orange hue. Its golden rays trickled down to the earth, caressing Aello's flesh, keeping it warm as it tickled her lips. A gentle breeze swept through the area from time to time, rustling Aello's long brown hair, and sending the surface of the lake into a series of soft ripples. Aello stood silently, the hilt of her cursed blade weighing heavily in the palm of her right hand. Her fingers curling around its smooth surface, tightening their grip from time to time. How long has it been since you first came to me? Aello wondered, having lost track of time. Having lost count of the amount of times it had been taken from her; the amount of times it had gotten her into and out of trouble; the amount of times she had tried to cast it away. But she still remembered that one day, so many moons ago, when the ghost first came to visit, when it drew her into its life. When she had been asked to kill, and had obeyed foolishly; killing the innocent as opposed to forcing the wicked to move on. If only she knew why, perhaps she could be at peace. Aello's grip tightened around the blade as her brow furrowed in frustration. What sort of petching asshole doesn't even tell you why? Aello wondered as she grit her teeth, the tip of the blade pressing even more roughly into her pale flesh; the place just below her right elbow. It send a chill up her spine as she pushed it deeper in frustration, you couldn't even kill him. You couldn't even petching kill him. Aello's body began to tremble as the bloody tip broke her skin, freeing a single, bright red drop of her life force onto the ground. It landed with the most delicate of plops. Gingerly, Aello lifted the blade off her flesh, relieving it of the blade's pressure; its lingering sense of cold; of death. Slowly, Aello turned her hand, so that the blade ran horizontally across her body. She stared at the blood upon the blade, the spots she could not get out. "Even though you have changed those spots have remained. Even though you are more magical now, all the more cursed," she spat, "those petching spots won't go away. No matter how hard you scrub... they won't go away," Aello's voice trailed off, the last of her words coming out no louder than an angry whisper, or perhaps, more the whisper of one who sounded as though they were about to be overcome by a bout of tears. How could should a thing be? How could it never be clean? How can it make you feel so unclean, just to hold it in your hand? Simply to have to refer to it as yours? Aello sighed, hating how dirty she always felt. How convinced that there was always blood on her hands, how it could never be washed away. A single tear rolled down Aello's cheek, causing her flesh to tingle. "I hate you!" she growled, as every muscle in her body tensed, and her heart began to pound in her tiny rib cage. Her eyes were flashing angrily, as though they were being overcome by an inner flame. "I fucking hate you," she whispered, her voice growing all the more intense, that her body shook, that it appeared as though the surface of the water did as well. Slowly, she turned the blade so that it rested against her flesh once more, her grip tightening around the hilt even further. Her flesh was turning a bright red, her knuckles white as the ghost who gave her the blade in the first place. "I petching hate you!" she screamed, as she lifted her arm and tossed the blade towards the lake. The light of the sun reflecting off its silver surface, causing the blood that stained it to glow as it landed on the black waters with a loud plop, and an even larger splash. Aello watched the blade sink, wishing that it would stay at the bottom of the lake. That throwing it away could have done more to satisfy her anger. She couldn't even care that it was gone. How could she when it would be back? When it always came back? As soon as it was out of sight, and the water's surface had stopped rippling, Aello turned her back to that portion of the lake. She petching hated that ghost, and if she could, she would kill it again, and again, and again. For he had turned her into a monster, just as dead inside as was he. "That ghost has ruined everything," Aello whispered, her voice much calmer now. "Every, petching, thing," she added, as she walked over to her things. OOCDon't ask where I was going with this, I don't really know... Aello told me to do it! Feel free to pm me and ask if you need any clarification or anything. |