A dark expanse covered the cusp of the face, falling gracefully along the ears. Waving ever so slightly, the hair rested calmly, unmoving through the space. Paleness twirled through the loose eyes, dark blue and void of light, peering right through the sphere of the living down to the grasp beyond. Smeared red around its lips, the tainted face breathed raggedly, trying to catch fresh air before coughing up. More of the liquid flew out however, a deepened shade had overtaken the blood, barely on the verge of turning black.
“Haa, haa, Lutiel,” the face called out, desperately begging for the boy with her soft, yet roughened voice. “Do you see what they did with me? Argh!” Once again, blood escaped the lips, but fully black instead. “B- but, don’t blame yourself. You did the right thing. Just, please.” The voice, turning bleaker and bleaker, started to lack the strength to even speak out the words. “... member, me. Please. Goodnight, Lutiel, may your dreams be the sweetest.” It stopped, all of a sudden, the voice no longer lingered through the air, halting completely as the eyes died out.
The boy’s chest collapsed as he rang for the wind, gasping loudly beyond the nightly world he had witnessed right before. His lips parted quickly amid a somber tone. “Ahh! Ahh! No!” He screamed to the gales, reverberating in the skies and stopping right before the fair clouds.
Right as his tongue quivered, the eyes widened up to their verge while he raised his body briskly, veiled by the shadow of the tree he sat under. With rapid intensity, his sight swept through the lands he found himself in, the ragged chest falling restful soon after. Staring ahead of him, the dancing grass moved the strings inside, illuminated through the motherly embrace shining down at the wavy hills.
“That dream again?” A petulant voice asked, moping about and making the boy turn to his right, the indigo eyes lighting up. Reflected through the pupils, the little girl perked up in his eyes, sharing the delicate blanket he napped on just a few breaths prior.
Enlightened by the sun while sitting on the edge of the shadow, her golden, undulating hairs glistened beautifully. Enthralling the boy, his eyes battled harshly to get away from her image, failing miserably in doing so. Still, forcefully taking his vision from there, the boy flinched down instead, looking at the soft dress she was wearing.
Matching with the hairs, faint frills scattered down the sides and around, creating a sparse contrast compared to the one next to her. Wearing an attrited shirt and trousers, made from the same, pale brown material, the scene almost depicted a royal sitting next to a peasant.
However, for as long as he upheld the staring, the boy immediately veered off once her deep, lapis eyes met his, quickly angling his head low at the checkered blanket they were calmly sitting on.
Swiftly, he caught onto the lengthy staff sprawled out next to her legs. At the very top, shining mellowy, a clear gem fit snugly in the wooden, engraved frame. With its sapphire-like shape and tones, it matched the darker shades of the ornate stick. Always ready for the girl’s grasp, the staff perfectly adorned her person.
Seeing the weapon near her, the boy quickly glanced down around his sides, soon taking hold of something starkly different. Looking quite shabby, with splinters throughout the handle that began to hold memories of the countless drops of sweat he poured out, the spear no longer seemed adequate for any battle. The head at the top, chipped along the edges and the tip, had long since lost its proper shine, a dull embrace taking over through the tens of scratches and smudges along the gray metal.
“Yes, that one,” he finally replied, drooping his eyebrows to barely witness the eyes. Silence met the two of them, the little girl’s troubled expression glancing at the boy, no speech able to be uttered for the current breath. Sharing the composure he faced, she repeated the look around him, though only with the mood. Dropping her shoulders, she looked at him defeated.
“I’m sorry,” the girl spoke softly, almost silenced despite the gentle gusts. “If not for the priests, I would have cleared it already,” her tongue beat herself as she uttered the words, a sullen glow surrounding her eyes.
“I’m fine, don’t worry,’ the boy spoke once again, clearing the dull looks with a spry motion. “The priests are right, you shouldn’t waste your powers,” he added promptly, but it only created an irked flurry around her face.
“It’s not a waste!” She raised her voice slightly while glaring at the boy. Deeply radiating within him, he instantly stopped any of his movements, staring at her in a docile manner. “What’s the point of having this power if I can’t use it for those that need it?” Through clenched fists, she crumbled tightly the cushion below her, asking a pointless question. Only a rustle of the leaves above answered her.
“I don’t know,” he replied as a large cloud began to cover the rays. “But, don’t you think it’s weird?” he added briskly, making the girl slowly raise her head and look up at him.
“What is?” She pondered, lifting the slumped shoulders slightly. However, the airs around her weren’t exuberant in the slightest.
“You know, that the priests keep you so restrained,” he said with furrowed eyebrows. Her eyes flinching as his words tumbled around the ears, she kept mum at the following statement. “You can’t do anything without their surveillance.”
“Ah, you were talking about that,” she muttered, lowering her head once again. “I can’t do anything about that.” The girl said, with eyes that barely looked at what lay ahead.
“It’s not that simple.” The voice scattered through the hills while the light finally shone through the clouds, a clear sky escaping their shackles. “I can’t do it, whether you think otherwise,” she said meekly before her eyes briskly looked up, a sudden wriggle of the blanket engaging her.
With puzzlement entwined, her eyes stared at the boy raising himself from the space, the hands quickly firming up into tight fists. Squishing her brows together at the energetic person next to her, she soon raised one of them.
The boy stood proudly against the sincere winds, gnashing his brows before his lips parted. “Then, if you can’t, I will tell them myself!” A shout reverberated through the lands while he scooped down to his left. With eagerness, the spear that was taller than him lay securely in his hands, making the wooden handle creak under his clasp.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.
“What are you thinking about all of a sudden?” She asked, raising the eyebrow even higher .”Weren’t you still asleep a few minutes ago?” Alas, her words weren’t much to persuade him.
Listening to the words, he momentarily glanced to the side before quickly stepping out of the blanket and walking along the grass. With a vehement strike, he raised the spear, just barely missing the vast expanse of branches above. “The world waits for no one!” He shouted through the space whilst beginning to move downwards. “So, I will train enough for the priests to acknowledge me! I will help you, Sheila!” He added near the end, making the girl exhale through the nose, on the verge of giggling.
With a soft smile, she shook her head while glancing at the spear that hailed down whilst cutting through the air. “You…” she spoke with eyes plastered all over the boy as she continuously swung his weapon. “You really are an obstinate one, huh?”
With a soft sigh escaping her breath, she promptly grabbed upon the staff near her, raising herself from the blanket before running up to the boy. A step away, she watched as the sweat trickled down the sides of his face and along the bridge of his nose, observing as the man trained uninterrupted.
She simply kept standing there, letting the clouds pass by in the meanwhile. Yet, as a large cloud once again floated through the sky, omitting the shine from above, the happy face of hers hesitated, uttering. “Why?” She asked through shaky lips.
“Huh?” He asked with doubts, creasing his eyebrows together as the shades fell away. Darkening by the second, he saw the murky clouds, illuminated by no more than a sparse few stars. Yet, somehow, the flat scape all around took on a crimson hue. With a doubtful mind, he swiftly swept his gaze across the space whilst halting the chanting of his spear.
Immediately, his eyes quivered incessantly. Mutilated bodies lay across the lands, metal speared through the reddened mud. Around the soil, an unending layer of hands and feet lay, severed by varied means. Some extended with the arms and legs, others simply cut away or ripped apart by the wrists and ankles. Digging through the mud, the lifeless body parts jumbled up to small piles, a floor of flesh made up by them.
His heart shook at the sight, only ever increasing the beats once the man started witnessing the heads, greased with blood around their faces. Yet, despite their state, all started to glare at the man, with increasing passion every halted breath he took. “Why?” Once again, the voice resounded in his ears, making him stagger through the place. However, something stopped him. His own hands gripped upon the tightly fitted handle, one which hooked onto something.
Finally, he saw the one in front of him. Her golden hairs seemed to have brightened up, while her features became more pronounced than before. Clearly, she had aged quite a lot, just like him. Unable to speak as he saw her, his mind churned when the smiling, bloodied lips began to part.
“Why did you kill me?” She asked, through the faint droplet of blood pooling out from the mouth. Dripping along her lips, the smile around them promptly receded as the girl’s blue eyes began to falter harshly, the eyelids convulsing. Swiftly, the girl looked down at the wound she had received, from the very man before her.
Trembling all across, her sleek, pale arm traced down to the stomach. Immediately, it painted itself entirely in red. Seeing it all, the man couldn’t speak, at least properly.
“Ah, ah, n-no, I-” clustered up, his tongue stuttered completely. However, despite his mutterings, his voice was overwritten by the clear voice from the front.
“You killed me, Lutiel. Why?” Her words once again trailed in his ears, making the pupils shake without halting.
Quickly, with strengthless arms, he dropped the grip around the handle, falling to his knees before clutching the top of his head, trying to hide from the girl. “No, please, believe me, it wasn’t me! I-I, I didn’t do it. I didn’t kill you, please,” his voice stumbled, breaking down by the end as the throat glued itself together.
However, suddenly, while a tear threatened to drop down his cheek, he stopped. A voice from the right took his focus. “Why did you kill us?” With a soft tone, the voice traveled nippily to his ears, making him turn around.
The girl stood in her armor, shorter than usual from the lack of her calves. Still, despite the cut legs, she walked through the mud towards him, her body lacking any real features, as though she had just been submerged into a sea of fire and melted.
“Why? Did it feel good?” Another voice grasped him, firmer to the prior one. Turning behind, Lutiel stared at the large body. Similar to the girl, all of it had become burnt, however, the man stood barely. Ripped apart in countless areas, the parts came together to form him, but they didn’t hold firmly.
Once again, before he could take a truly good look at the man, another prompted him to move to the side. “Did you have to send us there?” She asked, sparse green strands remaining on top of her melted head, nothing else making her figure stand out.
Then, finally, he heard the voice that made him stagger for a few breaths, not moving towards it despite hearing him. “Why did you lie to me?” Raphael’s voice headed for him, Lutiel’s eyes shaking vehemently. However, before long, despite not moving there at all, he saw the man right in front of him.
His head lacked its usual features, the eyelids melted over the sockets. The nose, as well as the lips, behaved in the same manner, the skin having melted to leave a blank face. On top of the head, the platinum hairs no longer flowed with dignity, all burned away through a fire.
“Why did you kill me, Lutiel?” The previous sword hero asked whilst blood started to incessantly pour out from the gaping hole in the middle of his chest, no heart ever beating there.
“Why?” A voice sprung up from the back, simultaneously. Immuring the man in place, he could no longer look at the world before him, the shine around his eyes disappearing as the maimed face of the woman showed itself before him, only the head ever showing, the rest of the body stood with a dark cloak.
“M-mom, no, I didn’t do it, I swear,” he muttered silently, the voices unable to hear him. The only ever came closer with their disfigured bodies, chanting away at his ears like the bells of a church.
“Why? Why did you kill us? Do you feel better?” They asked, just a step away from the hiding man. “Lutiel, why do you like to kill so much? Why did you kill us?” Repeating through the dark clouds, he could no longer see anything, one of the arms crawling up on his body ripping the eyes out.
“No, please, believe me, ah, ah, it hurts,” he wailed through the painful moans, feeling as the claws ripped his flesh apart. Slowly, they picked upon his body, to no end.
“Lutiel, why did you kill us? Why?” The voices screeched through his ears, which were no longer there. “Why? Tell us, why?”
“No, n-no, I didn’t-” his mouth repeated the same words, however, before long, he couldn’t speak anymore, the red tongue ripped apart along with the vocal cords.
“Why? Why? Why?” They asked, increasing in anger each time he didn’t respond, but the only thing that still spoke of the man was the sole, beating heart, muddied in the soil beneath.
With an urgent call, the eyes opened up, staring ahead of them while the breath muttered raggedly. His chest caved in and raised itself out, the thumping within vigorous. Glistening under the dim source somewhere in the distance, a droplet of sweat trickled down his face, grazing the earlobe before letting off onto the bed.
‘Where am I?’ He asked himself, pondering as the eyes caught the ceiling ahead of him, seemingly made from bloody, loose cloths entwined against each other.