Darkness flooded the sight of a battlefield, heavy smog seeming to
spawn with the dry wind that blew. The ground was barren with splotches
of crimson colored mud, small patches of blacken grass barely hanging
onto the pathetic earth beneath them spread out across the scene. The
putrid scent of charred hair mixed with the sickly sweet scent of cooked
flesh hung heavy, almost as thick as the smog that blanketed the
carcasses that dotted the floor.
A figure stood in the distance,
amidst the destruction. Clothed in serrated garments, torn like the
bodies that lay around the boy, he looked up at the black sky, almost as
if the heaven had refused to shine light upon him. Blood leaked from
wounds upon his bare arms, even soaked through his tattered pants and
shirts. The wounds were very precise, as if carved into his flesh, and
resembled that of the runes forbidden for the destructive power they
possessed. His eyes, sunken and weary turned to the floor where a small
pole jutted irregularly from the earth, a cloth that was once a flag
hanging to the pole. He raised one booted foot and slammed down upon the
flag, ripping the fabric from the staff and his voice spoke, soft and
tender with weariness.
"That... Bastard...."
______________________________
Bright
cerulean eyes peered intently upon a tall man, his clothes and
accessories only screaming at everyone around him of his noble
upbringing. He stepped quick footed and firmly, darting his black eyes
to a female seated against a wall, her legs folded underneath her and
resting in her lap was what resembled a crude zither, or a Japanese Koto
with only ten or so strings.
Upon receiving the man's
attention, a wide grin spread across the female's face. She placed her
bony fingers across the strings that looked ready to snap. But, before
her fingertips began to pluck the strings, the man turned his head in an
arrogant gesture and charged off.
The frown returned to Elywen's
face and she looked down to the instrument on her lap, her fingers
twitching not with excitement, but rather with irritation. She began to
absent-mindedly pluck her strings, releasing a quiet melody that could
only be compared with that of an immature voice, devoid of any real
musical quality. Her eyes turned upward again, staring intensely at a
few people who walked her way.
The sound that flowed from her
instrument became louder, her fingers appearing with the intention of
tearing the strings from the wooden frame. The couple who walked her way
threw her a perturbed glare and even picked up their pace, darting
away.
Elywen let out a cry of irritation, receiving several more
perturbed glares from others within the plaza of the city. "Well fine!
Don't look my way!!" Her hand slammed down on her strings, grumbling.
"These people have no sense of music! Don't they know a skilled bard
when they see one?!" She hunched herself over, her pale garbs fall over
her instrument as her fingers began to pluck the strings again, much
like before. "These damn nobles... All they care about is money!" She
looked down at the crude jade cap before her, empty. "Can't even spare
some change..."
