I. Quelli Abbandonati
A heartwarming smile and frowns of confusion.
It was, perhaps, a late-summer night. The sound of a cool breeze ruffling the leaves seemed almost playful.
The dark blanket covering the sky smothered everything in a velvety blackness, and the only source of illumination was the celestial moon. The view would have been mystical under the indigo glow, had the structure in front of me were in its full glory instead of ruins.
I felt a chill run down my spine as the temperature around me suddenly dropped. My gaze darted around, trying to find any clue which might tell me... something. What was that "something", I did not know.
Not much later I heard the soft sound of someone's quiet footsteps. There was a flash of blue towards my left, and I decided to cautiously approached it.
A few minutes later, I was left panting as the phantom, because it could be called nothing else, continued to evade me. Let it not be said that my stamina was impressive. In those short minutes, I found out, the hard way, that the transparent spirit was quite fast. That, or he knew teleportation. I could only catch brief glimpses of him, before he would vanish into thin air.
It was disconcerting, but there was just something about him that compelled me to actually try, the fact in itself was truly unusual, and find the spirit. Even though, all I wanted was to sleep peacefully.
Was it my imagination, or did I really hear an unearthly laugh just now?
As I turned towards the sound, I was shocked to find another person, the very phantom I was chasing, so close to me. My breath hitched in my throat, eyes widening. And even though the person was just inches away from my face, I could not distinguish his features. The only thing I could actually see of his face was his mischievous grin, the upper part of his face shadowed by his hair. He seemed to be dressed in light elegant clothes under that midnight blue cloak.
The spirit beckoned me with his enchanting smile, as he led the way through the ruins of a palace. And my legs followed, as if they had grown a mind of their own. I kind of felt like a spectator, seeing everything from behind my own body as though my soul was ripped apart from it, even though I knew that should not be possible.
My eyes followed the mysterious creature like a hawk following its prey, even as I took note of the impressive carvings on the few intact walls. This palace must have been beautiful in the past. I did not know why I thought that, but I had a feeling it was the truth. Just like the feeling that told me I should already know this place.
Glancing towards my eccentric companion, I saw his lips moving in an excited chatter, what I assumed to be for describing the history behind the ruins, I could not, however, hear what he was saying.
That was one highly confusing fact. As I could hear every other sound, except his voice, perfectly. I could not help but feel disappointed.
At last, he led me to the garden. The only thing left untouched by the fangs of destruction in this place. It was obviously well taken care of, if the blossoming flowers were any indication. It was quite peaceful if I am to be to honest. I could even feel my lips pulling up in a reluctant smile. Then he turned back towards me, standing a couple meters away, but instead of the grin that stretched across his face, he had a small smile.
Having a soft edge, almost shy, filled with understanding and... something I could not quite discern properly. Nevertheless, it felt as though it were from the bottom of his heart. My eyes widened in genuine surprise.
It was... It was breathtaking. And I found myself wanting to just stare at him forever.
Inwardly, I wanted to facepalm, or at the very least bash my head on something solid, at my blatant gawking. The fact that I could not even control my thoughts in this bewitched world was very, very troublesome.
His lips were moving again, not that I could hear him or anything. That was the first time I was immensely disappointed at my lack of skill in lip-reading. But in that moment, as the wind ruffled his hair, I felt a wave of nostalgia wash over me. It was... strange. As if I should already know what he was trying to tell me.
It did not help in alleviating my frustration and confusion in any way.
.
.
.
.
When I woke up, the next day, the dream remained vividly clear in my mind. And if I concentrated enough, I could even smell the windflowers in the gentle breeze that played with that stranger's hair.
Prompts —
1. Season : Summer.
2. Flower : Anemone.
3. One of my dreams.
Trivia —
Windflower : More commonly known as 'anemone' (windflower is rarely used as a noun). Although it's a beautiful flower, it has a floral definition with a somewhat darker meaning. It symbolizes 'dying hope' and is the embodiment of 'those who are forsaken'. Yet all is not lost as this flower can also be used to indicate 'anticipation'.
SN : The dream wasn't, of course,completely identical. Most of it is though. The only thing I deleted was that the 'stranger' (and yes, to me he's still a stranger) had asked me for a dance at the end, in the garden hall (which I could guess was used for gatherings, sort of... Well, Royal Ball, but who cares about small details) which also wasn't included. And the fact that my dream literally crumbled, waking me up.
My self-imposed mission was to try my hand at first person narration... I hope it was good.
This is actually one of my oldest ideas. Surprising no? And SnT (my ongoing multi chapter fic) is actually one of the newest, along with some other one-shots I'm not sure when I'll write. And it was actually a one-shot before... but you know... my fics tend to have a mind of their own. This one decided that it liked ficlets... so yeah. Feel free to share your thoughts!