Requiem of the Seasons (5-12/7) - Crow
Jul 19, 2023 19:42:55 GMT
Riah, Velania Kalugina, and 2 more like this
Post by Crow • ᚴᚱᚬᚴᛦ on Jul 19, 2023 19:42:55 GMT
“It wasn’t your fault, mate.”
“Don’t blame yourself, eh kid?”
“You had no choice!”
“Ye did what ye had tae do tae protect yersel.”
The moment plays out over and over behind the boy’s eyes.
The dark fairy licked her bloody knife, standing over Yinmaris’s motionless body on the cave floor. He scrambled to nock an arrow and pulled. She lunged. He released.
The force of the arrow punching through her right eye threw her head back. She dropped to her knees. There was a bright flash of light.
“Come on now, child…”
“Do you ever stop moping?”
The voices don’t stop, pestering him ceaselessly on the way back to Bloody Creek as they flap and flutter all around him. He ignores them, as always. Luckily, they get bored eventually.
“Weather’s awful today, ain’t it, Ninette?”
“I wonder what’s for dinner today…”
Thunder rumbles from amongst moody grey clouds. The boy preemptively pulls up his hood, trudging through mud and mossy cobble back to his hovel. Thinking of that fairy with the arrow through her eye again and again.
The looks on Raine’s and Yinmaris’s faces made it clear that those dark fairies weren’t supposed to be there. They were interlopers in the old temple, and maybe in the fey court it’s in too. They were hostile… It was kill or…
Every inch of the hovel’s flimsy wooden walls has been carved upon. Runes. Trembling lines cut desperately into the wood, each stroke an futile prayer. Blind attempts at casting some protective spell unknown to the author. Obviously, it didn’t work. The crows keep coming back anyway.
One is currently perched on the edge of the roof. It’s big, more raven than crow. Mangy, jet feathers, stained deep crimson in some places, missing in others, creating ugly bald patches on its unnaturally large body. The boy hasn’t seen that one in a few weeks. It’s staring at him with one eye, a white maggot wriggling out of its empty socket.
“I always knew you had it in you.”
No. That’s not who he is.
“I always said you were gonna do it someday, didn’t I? You’re gonna descend to my level, boy.”
It was self-defence. He had to do it. He had no choice.
“Keep telling yourself what you need to hear. It’ll happen again. You keep going on these adventures. You’ll do it ag—”
The boy pulls an arrow from the quiver on his hip and launches it from his longbow at the Butcher.
The arrow sails above its head. It jumps off the roof and glides away into the forest. A deep cackle peals through the lifeless village.
The boy drops his bow, quiver, sword, and cloak carelessly on the ground. With a weak push, he opens the door to the hovel, revealing a threadbare mattress on the floor, a bucket, and nothing else.
The mushroom man in the temple’s caves could somehow read the boy’s thoughts. Sensed his despair. They asked why he remained here, where there is nothing left for him.
The boy had no answer for them. He couldn’t bring himself to say: that’s exactly the point.
“Don’t blame yourself, eh kid?”
“You had no choice!”
“Ye did what ye had tae do tae protect yersel.”
The moment plays out over and over behind the boy’s eyes.
The dark fairy licked her bloody knife, standing over Yinmaris’s motionless body on the cave floor. He scrambled to nock an arrow and pulled. She lunged. He released.
The force of the arrow punching through her right eye threw her head back. She dropped to her knees. There was a bright flash of light.
“Come on now, child…”
“Do you ever stop moping?”
The voices don’t stop, pestering him ceaselessly on the way back to Bloody Creek as they flap and flutter all around him. He ignores them, as always. Luckily, they get bored eventually.
“Weather’s awful today, ain’t it, Ninette?”
“I wonder what’s for dinner today…”
Thunder rumbles from amongst moody grey clouds. The boy preemptively pulls up his hood, trudging through mud and mossy cobble back to his hovel. Thinking of that fairy with the arrow through her eye again and again.
The looks on Raine’s and Yinmaris’s faces made it clear that those dark fairies weren’t supposed to be there. They were interlopers in the old temple, and maybe in the fey court it’s in too. They were hostile… It was kill or…
Every inch of the hovel’s flimsy wooden walls has been carved upon. Runes. Trembling lines cut desperately into the wood, each stroke an futile prayer. Blind attempts at casting some protective spell unknown to the author. Obviously, it didn’t work. The crows keep coming back anyway.
One is currently perched on the edge of the roof. It’s big, more raven than crow. Mangy, jet feathers, stained deep crimson in some places, missing in others, creating ugly bald patches on its unnaturally large body. The boy hasn’t seen that one in a few weeks. It’s staring at him with one eye, a white maggot wriggling out of its empty socket.
“I always knew you had it in you.”
No. That’s not who he is.
“I always said you were gonna do it someday, didn’t I? You’re gonna descend to my level, boy.”
It was self-defence. He had to do it. He had no choice.
“Keep telling yourself what you need to hear. It’ll happen again. You keep going on these adventures. You’ll do it ag—”
The boy pulls an arrow from the quiver on his hip and launches it from his longbow at the Butcher.
The arrow sails above its head. It jumps off the roof and glides away into the forest. A deep cackle peals through the lifeless village.
The boy drops his bow, quiver, sword, and cloak carelessly on the ground. With a weak push, he opens the door to the hovel, revealing a threadbare mattress on the floor, a bucket, and nothing else.
The mushroom man in the temple’s caves could somehow read the boy’s thoughts. Sensed his despair. They asked why he remained here, where there is nothing left for him.
The boy had no answer for them. He couldn’t bring himself to say: that’s exactly the point.
