The Thirst for Understanding15:34 Nov 06 2008
Times Read: 638
Looking out at the vastness of the Garden of Stone, her amber eyes taking in the darkness that surrounded her. She was not afraid just still amazed at the changes that had taken place within her. A rebirth of sorts. Her mind wandering back to when it had all begun. The day was dismal; it was as if the heavens themselves knew that darkness had come their little part of the world.
Her family was nothing, on the surface, special. Just another family of that many that lived around Azoic City. Her pale hand moving from headstone to headstone as she moved, almost caressing each one, making her way closer to the castle. Lost in thought as the darkness set in she moved fluidly through the maze of stones. Her mind on the events that had led her to this point. It was a simple life really that she had led. The treaty had not meant much yet it was thought everyone would be safe. But as she watched her mother’s life drain away ill prepared for what happened next. Her surprised when she was grabbed and bitten. The sensual almost erotic feel of his bite on her neck. The soft moan that escaped her lips as she felt him drain her blood, her very life force from her body. This was nothing of course compared to the agony of her own life slipping away. Each organ shutting down, her last breath leaving her lips. The pain was intense. Surprised at this fate for little realized her past and she was not about to tell them just yet. Opening her eyes as she drew what was not really a breath as she opened her eyes for the first time, reborn, and looked up at him. Confused and unable to express herself she took the offered cut wrist were she saw the blood flow and drank greedily. The gentleness in which he handled her assaulting her as her mind refused to bring forth the brutal act she had just witnessed.
Her pale hand slipped from each of the stones as her long nails scrapped along the tops continuing to move closer to the castle. She moved completely unaware of how she appeared. The long straight skirt accented her full hips as she moved slowly around the stones. Her feet covered with a soft heeled sandal which had soft ties that snaked up her ankle and calf. They were little protection but she knew that she did not need much protection for she had often moved barefoot in the past and if up to her would continue to do so. The long sleeve cream color peasant top hung over her hips and moving loosely as she continued her journey through the garden. It hung off her pale shoulder exposing more skin then she normally would but somehow it felt right. She moved almost seductively around the stones. Her long soft, now, white hair looking like billowing clouds in the soft moon light. Flowing gently behind her accentuating her movements. The blending of the cream top against her pale skin would cause some to believe she was not wearing much of a shirt at all.
She knew she was not naïve to what lay out there but usually she knew, some sort of sixth sense, when to have her and her family stay hidden. Maybe the treaty had created a false sense of security and that sense had failed her, but as a frowned crossed her face, she could not figure out why. It had always been a handy gift, although one she had kept hidden. Her mother, of course, knew but that was a mothers love, others had given her strange looks when early on she had told of things that were to happen. Just a feeling she felt come off people and what was to come. Nothing ever specific but always gave her enough time to make sure they were safe. After some time she had learned to keep quiet about people and events. Avoiding those around her or learning that being quiet was a much better way of life.
Her eyes were not really focused as she moved forward, for she was lost in thought. The stones were so closely put together, thousands and thousands of them. Everyone had heard the stories of the riches that lay in this graveyard, this garden of stone. She was lucky to have been told to seek out Lord Targent. He would offer her a place to stay and a way to learn about her change, give her insight into who she was, who he was and an idea of what type of journey she had begun. She needed to know more, she quickened her pace she moving toward the castle. Her hair flowing behind her.
COMMENTS
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Lordpeace
22:37 Jan 12 2009
how wonderful!
another with a talent for the written word.
My favored genre is poetry,
but i am trying my hand at prose.
keep writing lil one, and i will keep reading