*Single, Despondent, Undesirable
Note-New tag now upped. All ART characters' side story will officially go under the tag "Ranger Gaiden". To Tobias Fong, I'd rather you concentrate on your own beloved Blackburn Rovers than whatever I write.
Add Note-Will port an old post over to here also...
A/N: Realised my skills have gone rusty somehow/somewhat.
Four Seasons of Life
NE
228 Spring
Spring arrives, winter departs.
Buds and shoots clothed the
fields.
I hear the maidens’ song, the
children’s dance.
Surely joy and hope shall fill my
heart.
“Are
they for real?”
She look
down at me, her gentle blue eyes teasing my curiosity. It’s been a hard day at
school, everybody seemed so unfriendly. Is it because of my looks? They called
me a yellow girl, but my skin isn’t that colour.
“Yes,
they are,” smiled the woman I called mother, her body scent akin to freshest
blossoms, “I’ve seen one before.”
“But I
never did!”
Mother
laughs at my protest, a hand flicking her golden blond hair. I giggled in spite
of her response, for I know my mother just as she knows me.
“Ales,”
whispered the noblest lady hailed by the name Emma Watts Eliaden, “You’ll
always be loved. Remember this if you desire to love.”
“Mother,
have you ever loved someone before?”
Sudden
fear gripped my mind as mother’s body abruptly tensed up, surely she won’t slap
me like that teacher yesterday. Gods, please don’t let mother be angry…
“Yes,” I
hated that sigh of hers, it betrays nothing but weakness.
“I used
to love three men. Two Humans and one True Apostle.”
So that’s
why mother said she has seen a True Apostle before.
“Will I
get to see one, mother?”
“If the
Holy Quintet allow you to. Now go to sleep, for the following day will be long
and arduous.”
You don’t
have to repeat it, mother. I know it will be long and arduous.
)0(
NE
233 Summer
Summer is now, spring bade
farewell.
Beneath the scorching sun a lion
rests.
I hear people laughing, their
hearts never crying.
Surely passion and fire have consumed
me.
“Are… ar…”
Before I
can finish my words, the boy slapped my hand away.
“Little
brat! Do you know what you’re doing?!”
“Twong,
please… don’t shout at him.”
If my
plea managed to reach Twong’s ears, he merely answered me with a foul mouthed
barrage unheard from a Houseman’s lips. Yet, he would rather die than to direct
those words against me. Then it all happened in a flash.
With a
lunging tackle, the nameless boy took Twong down cleanly. Raining punches upon his
face like some relentless beast, a lion’s portrait seen in the Encyclpedia
Bestiary haunts my mind.
‘Tis said that a lion will always
protect its pride till either victorious or dead, Milady. The males are known
to be especially ferocious, hence a symbol revered by men of war.
This was
Yeovil’s explanation when I asked him about lions. And it seems that he’s truly
one amongst the rest. But still…
“Why are you still following me?”
“Because I want to be friends
with you.”
“Fuck off, stupid girl. I could
have killed that son of a bitch if not for you holding me back.”
“Where did you learn all those
words?”
“From hell. You happy?”
My mind
suddenly turned blank, I know not what I’m doing. All I want is to stop him, to
comfort him. He has never been loved, that’s why I must stop him all the more.
Please, Holy Father above. Let him not continue his folly, for he knows not
what he is doing.
Then the
trashing stopped, I found myself embracing a wild boy tamed. I’m unable to
behold his sapphire eyes brimming with fire, but only because he is being held
from behind. His body warmth, heaving shoulders and unmistakable scent… all of
this translates into a single thought formed through words.
This is your home,
Guy. Welcome back.
)0(
NE
238 Autumn
Autumn beckons, summer gone.
Atop oak and birch rained leaves
of gold.
I hear the wind blowing, its song
no one knows.
Surely rest and warmth will
herald dawn.
“Wait,
are you mad?”
“No I’m
not.”
Never
one used to answers curt, Joenne’s expression speaks a thousand words.
“Why
always me?” whined my willowy friend.
“Because
you are Joenne Nances.”
If there
is any way to resolve a potential tantrum thrown, a sincere smile will more
than suffice. Knowing Joenne is like understanding a straightforward maze, a giggle
from Karen affirmed my thoughts.
“Oh, Jo,”
sighed Karen, her lips curving into a quaint smile, “You know Ales and her
fairy tales.”
Unable
to help but chuckle silently, ‘tis true that Karen Tenias is the only person incapable
of angering me. Plenty has been said about how desirable Granad Tenias’ only
daughter is, but both me and Joenne know where her actual beauty lies.
“Why not
we make a little wager?” asked Joenne, her enthusiasm yet to wane.
“What
kind of wager?”
Even
Karen’s attention is piqued, I don’t like the feeling of this.
“If Ales
wins the top award for this year’s Words Award, she must tell us why she’s so
obsessed with this so called True Apostle.”
“You’re
speaking in singular, not plural.”
Bemusement
towards Karen’s reply promptly caving in, somehow everything around seems to freeze
and collapse. Emma Watts Eliaden will always be remembered for many good
reasons, but only one is enough for me.
“I was merely fourteen back then,
yet never shall I forget beings foulest and forged from elements. I knew what
awaited me verily at the end, yet the only thing greeting me was his strength,
gentleness and sorrow unseen.”
“Mother, what does he look like?”
“I do not know, for his back
never ceased facing me.”
Was
mother talking about the same individual? The answer to this question, I know
not. Nevertheless though, I was more blessed than her and undeservedly so.
‘Tis a lunar night
seven years ago, his beautiful gaze betraying only anger, sorrow and something
else altogether…
)0(
NE
240 Winter
Winter comes, all has passed.
Under skies of blue a wolf sounds
its hunt.
I hear tales of heroes, the bards
welcomed.
Surely hearth and songs have made
me warm.
Winter
at Histalonia was something unheard of, Alestrial Eliaden nonetheless could
detect winter had heralded its descent upon the Greater North. She remembered
clearly the rare occasion or two where her mother took her to the nearest
tavern. Her father would flare up after their visit, incessant complaints deploring
their daring act. Then there was the three of them huddling together before the
fireplace, mugs of hot tea in hand before a bard hired to regale them. Many a
disapproval was voiced, but never did she give a care. Cruax Nances and Granad
Tenias, however, remained unamused at what they scoffed as a behaviour
unladylike.
“There
is no snow and frost here,” murmured the Cinha maid already defiled, her tears
fighting a losing war against harshest reality. Joenne must be enjoying apple strudels
right now with Karen busy rejecting potential suitors. Then there were Guy and
Aeranath.
Will I still be loved? Should a
harlot deserve to be loved?
Damning
questions condemned Alestrial to a broken state, a broken doll cursed with a
value hundredfold before that fateful night. A moment of loss, an eternity of
pain beckoned now. She loved Guy Cody for his upright innocence, but mayhap
even this itself was already gone. What then about Aeranath?
“Do I
love him?” whispered Alestrial unto herself as frigid wind assailed her back, “Did
I love him first eight years ago?”
Recognising
the futility justifying her question, laughter erupted from her throat.
Emotions was one thing, the ability to stay rational quite another. Despite a
cynical chortle so unlike her, Alestrial Eliaden managed to recall all too
clearly what the Serpent spoke this morning.
“Loss of chastity will only mean
you shall tame two beasts at a time. Lions and wolves alike do not entertain
the sheep.”
As she
closed her eyes for the night, a nagging question teased her momentarily.
My right hand and left… am I
worthy enough to have both men at either side?
)0(
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