After a night of terrors, of beasts that scream with the voices of men and men who howl with the cries of beasts, the sun rise begins to chase away the darkness and all those beings who inhabit it and earn the forest it’s fearsome reputation. The reason workers of this land never stayed the night despite such a lush, natural environment… now understood intimately by all those Shardbearers who has braved the dark, whether in search of a shard or a living man, whether sent by Yima or Cyprus…
But Hayame had not gone for either of them. She and her companion had entered the island taking advantage of the numbers and opportunity, but her own motives had been selfish. She did not want to live in the glittering sprawl of Springstar or the gloom of Highstorm’s gothic stone. She had thought the natives cowards for fleeing every sunset from the one island that seemed comfortable to her. She had dismissed their fears as dramatized or superstitious.
But she knew better now.
As a golden glow illuminates the tree tops, a lone centaur appears from the shadows of the wood. It has taken her hours to make it this far, hours she only remembers as a blur of pain and occasional lapses into unconsciousness, but she… she had to move forward. She had a duty to fulfill, even if her clothing was stained crimson, if her body was ripped and her face was a mess of bandage and swollen cut above her remaining eye, if one of her forelegs threatened to buckle at each demand for a step and one of her back legs refused to straighten out and steady her gait. Behind her she drags a six foot longbow in one hand, the other gropes in front of her for guidance and to catch her each stumble and step…
And blood blots the trail behind her, leading all the way back deep into the wood.
Forward.
She has to keep… keep moving forward. But as she emerges from the wood, as a hand reaches uselessly for the next tree to brace on and finds nothing… her legs buckle. She plows heavy and mostly lifeless face first into the earth, both sets of lungs wheezing for air as she struggles to get off her belly.
Her hand moves to clutch at something hidden in her shirt. Something that reminds her she has to keep going-
FOR EMET-SELCH ↣ ALENROUX MYSTERIES ↣ 死に欠片れている
After a night of terrors, of beasts that scream with the voices of men and men who howl with the cries of beasts, the sun rise begins to chase away the darkness and all those beings who inhabit it and earn the forest it’s fearsome reputation. The reason workers of this land never stayed the night despite such a lush, natural environment… now understood intimately by all those Shardbearers who has braved the dark, whether in search of a shard or a living man, whether sent by Yima or Cyprus…
But Hayame had not gone for either of them. She and her companion had entered the island taking advantage of the numbers and opportunity, but her own motives had been selfish. She did not want to live in the glittering sprawl of Springstar or the gloom of Highstorm’s gothic stone. She had thought the natives cowards for fleeing every sunset from the one island that seemed comfortable to her. She had dismissed their fears as dramatized or superstitious.
But she knew better now.
As a golden glow illuminates the tree tops, a lone centaur appears from the shadows of the wood. It has taken her hours to make it this far, hours she only remembers as a blur of pain and occasional lapses into unconsciousness, but she… she had to move forward. She had a duty to fulfill, even if her clothing was stained crimson, if her body was ripped and her face was a mess of bandage and swollen cut above her remaining eye, if one of her forelegs threatened to buckle at each demand for a step and one of her back legs refused to straighten out and steady her gait. Behind her she drags a six foot longbow in one hand, the other gropes in front of her for guidance and to catch her each stumble and step…
And blood blots the trail behind her, leading all the way back deep into the wood.
Forward.
She has to keep… keep moving forward. But as she emerges from the wood, as a hand reaches uselessly for the next tree to brace on and finds nothing… her legs buckle. She plows heavy and mostly lifeless face first into the earth, both sets of lungs wheezing for air as she struggles to get off her belly.
Her hand moves to clutch at something hidden in her shirt. Something that reminds her she has to keep going-
But her body just won’t do it. Not anymore.]