Life.
A spectacle no one really ever seems to appreciate.
With its cracks and turns and bumps and pits... it was always an exciting- if not rather troubling fit through. All the same, though contradicting, was it radiant, colourful and rich beyond words when seen through the proper lenses.
Admittedly, it wasn't until the day I'd birthed life myself that I truly begin to appreciate it. The complexity of it. How it, though contradictory in its highs and lows, was well grounded and absolutely beautiful when flourished. How it, though souring at its peaks, could very well leave not even a dent in history, though when played right, could impact the following course of events as a meteorite would the earth.
Truly however, the most amazing thing about life was how fragile and seemingly temporary it was. Even if a terrifying thought that all would end soon enough, it- to me at least, made every aspect, be it a week, day, hour, minute or second, all the more important.
Live life to the fullest.
My motto, the one sentence that kept my energy raised and myself up, ready and willing to kick start another beautiful day no matter what.
Life after all was a gift, however temporary it may seem and I believe that we should live it as best as we could and not waste even a bit! We after all don't know when the gift expires. When the world would go dark...
I was falling.
Through a void without matter or time. Where only darkness and clambered spectrums laid vast and various.
I didn't remember how I got there. Not even why I was there. Last I could recall was the setting of the sun then darkness beyond even my visions comprehension. I didn't even have the time to stomach the thought. To fully understand the sudden and drastic change of atmosphere- From brightness to the deepest black I'd ever witnessed.
'Why?'
My words, though pressured, never escaping my lips. The sound never reaching my ears even as I struggled to break through the thickness of the voids nothingness.
Why was I here?
Faintly, I could feel it. A shrapnel imbedded deep within my flesh. Ghostly, I could smell it, taste it... a musky copper. And my eyes, playing up, I could see... deep crimson dribbling from my very being.
Why was I falling?
The answer, I didn't know. Not even the smallest memory could I recall. Just one... a simple one. One that took place in front of a small cottage. With a man kissing my cheek, a young child hugging my knees and another blanketed one snuggled in my chest. I remember this part very clearly, more clearly then any other. I was smiling, promising... I'd be back before they knew it. But I didn't want to leave...
Why did I leave then?
Even that, I couldn't remember. Not a reason could I tell. Just that I climbed my horse, and galloped off to never return. Not to cottage or the loving man that managed it, and not to the children who clung onto me dearly.
Why did I have to leave?
I was forced. I could tell. My lips strained, and eyes wet with fresh tears. By duty or by man, that I'm yet to recount, realise. All I know now, all I'd ever bother to remember was that I- bright eyes flashed through my vision, and I felt myself let out a silent wail... I never wanted to leave.
Slowly, slowly, as my emotions begin to waver, begin to crumble under the force of my stress and self resentment did the spectrums surrounding me twirl and harden. Their translucent bodies becoming whole, rigid and sharp blades aimed right for me, snapping me out of my trance.
Terror, an emotion I hardly experienced. Yet at that moment, when the colourful blades glimmered in their dark encompass did I feel my Chest throb with that feeling.
I was still falling after all. Still shooting through the seemingly endless void. To be able to outmaneuver a single an aptly aimed blade would be a miracle in itself, yet to be able to do so with so many facing me... It was impossible.
I screamed. Silent yet entirely fearful. I wouldn't be able to avoid this, to survive this... I would be killed. I clutched onto the fabric of my cloak, my teary eyes shut as I gave into my faith... this was to be the end.
"Förlorat"
A soft whisper caressing my ears. Like velvet, or silk. Soft and smooth, soothing my soul completely.
Compelled, I slowly opened my eyes. Shock overcoming me when the mystically coloured blades and darkness I'd expected were replaced by singing birds, colourful flowers and the richest forest enclosure I'd ever seen.
"Asta"
The same caressing voice reached my ears. His lone word, ever simple yet much like earlier on, a velvet-like command for attention that had my eyes eagerly flickering around myself to find the speaker.
"H-Hello?"
My words came out hoarse but eager for answers. My brain spinning in a ladled attempt to find answers as to where I was and why I was there to begin with.
Soon after my call, my ears picked up the crunching of leaves and branches under the weight of heavy boots. This had my heart thumping erratically against my chest, like an animal would a cage. My eyes, searching around me, through the thickened greenery and up the crystal like sky in a bout of rediscovered adrenalin.
"W-Who's there?"
My words, like a sputtering stutterer. The adrenalin I'd felt mere moments before spiking into a familiar and hated feeling of dread, only heightened by the realisation that my sore limbs could barely move. My aura having shattered the moment my back made contact with the solid plane.
"Relax, Asta"
It was the bearer of the voice, I realised. His thickly accented words calming me ever so slightly as he approached me from behind one of the taller oak trees.
"You"
I managed to whisper out. My eyes watering in a near embarrassing show of relief. Even if I'd known him merely by the sound of a few collective words... I knew beyond certainty that he would not harm me. He after all did save me from my fall through the void and the blades that followed suite.
"Rest."
I heard again. This time a definite command as slowly by slowly, I felt my muscles heed. It was like magic, really. The moment his words reached my ears, my body relaxed, My breathing calmed and my eyelids closed.
Though a lucky figment I barely remember, was that just before I could reach slumber, I was able to catch his eyes on me. A mystical gray far lighter than my own silver, before darkness shrouded my vision and sleep took me in its arms for a much needed rest.
Through the thickness of sleeps coveting arms, I could hear them. A dozen or so others mumbling about, muttering under their breaths mystified words of shock and perhaps even joy, of which I could only guess why.
"Settle down, settle down."
I could hear that one sentence breach through the apparent crowd and settle above all. It was thick, refined and commanding. The words falling off their bearers lips like honey, appeasing the dozens of bears surrounding me. I needn't take me a moment to realise who it was.
The words following were in a tongue I could barely catch. The sound of each letter lost on me as he, the bearer of the mystical voice, quick as a flash silenced every one of the overexcited and somewhat unruly "bears".
A thundering step came fort, and as I soon realised, right beside my relaxed arms as I felt, though barely, the friction of gravel against the armoured back of my wrist.
The motion was followed quickly after by a voice almost equally thundering as the bearers footsteps themselves. Like the beating of a drum that sent my heart thumping wildly against my cheat in what I could just barely perceive as fear.
"Klaus, Who is she?"
A light wind caressed the reddened flesh of my cheeks as the now named Klaus responded, his voice decadent to that of an all knowing swindler. Graceful, suave and very much knowing of the power they held.
"A special child in need of help-."
"Since when were we the go-to care takers?"
It was a new voice that had spoken out. One that came to the right of my resting form. It was younger and certainly more boisterous than that of Klaus and the other, older company.
"Fritjof!"
This time, it was the voice of an elder woman. Her words reprimanding of the other- Fritjof's rather rude remark towards Klaus.
"Sorry Mor, but it is the truth! Every time a new creature appears, he runs here and hands them over to us!"
Fritjof glowered. His words showing obvious disdain towards the man who'd delivered me from presumably, my own death by coloured blades.
"Tystnad, Fritjof."
It was the man from earlier. His voice booming around the area in calmed rage. He, as to my understanding now, had much power behind his every motion, and as I have come to understand... he was definitely the head of the bunch.
Though I did not understand even the slightest behind the context of the word. Fritjof's sudden quietness as a result was enough of a clue as to what it had meant... silence. Unlike when I had first regained my senses... the entire area surrounding me was silenced to the point where not even the crickets dared to make a sound.
"She needs help, Acke. Help I know only you can provide"
Klaus continued after a few short minutes of silence. I could tell, by the shifting of the leader- Acke's position from just beside me that he was hesitant of accepting.
"You can check for yourself... She's different. Far more than any human you have ever helped"
The fact that Klaus had emphasised 'Human' and the feel of Acke's feet shuffling against the ground was enough for me to tell that it was a sore topic. Though before I could hear any more from the duo's conversation regarding myself, I felt the lightest feeling of rocks against my skin and out of shock, my eyes opened to a sight I'd never had the misfortune of coming across in remnant.
A large being towering over me, with jaded eyes and a hunched greenly clothed figure made completely out of rock.
It was safe to say that sleep was all too eager to drag me back into it's loving embrace.
Also, if you're wondering what universe this is in, I can blighty appease your curiosity by stating that this is actually a world build (Why do you think it took so long to write?).
This world build (Because we all need some basis) was actually created based on various folklore from around the globe, with me giving special attention to the Scandinavian Folklore in particular.
The language used in this story is actually Swedish. Though I relied heavily on google for all of them, seeing as I myself am not of Swedish descent and cannot speak the language.
The translations are as follows;
Ön Av Den Förlorade: Isle of the lost
Förlorat: Lost
Asta: Actually a Swedish name who's meaning is "Divine Beauty"
Mor: Mother
Tystnad: Silence
Klaus: I added a U to the Swedish name Klas, which actually means "Peoples triumph"
Acke: Name means "Peace of the father"
Fritjof: "One who steals peace"
Well thats enough writing for one go, hope ya'll like this and til next update...Ciao!-Yorky