Prelude
Aenne sat before the building holding a stuffed bear thats eyes reflected the flames before her. Her blond hair looked like nothing more then strands of gold lost in the wind as they flew in numerous directions, making her look free and wild. Her eyes were filled with salty tears that ran down her cheeks and to the grass that welcomed the water without question. It absorbed it as to help her forget about the pain that she was facing at the moment, a way to help her forget. Her once pink dress was torn and covered with dirt and ash as she stood, not paying attention to her apperance. The rose velvet had faded with her smile and her hope for the future to come.
As the fire raged forth, no one came to her aid, no one came to put an end to her misery, no one interfered. She watched as she saw her home, her brother, her mother, her father, her life burn to the ground with people watching. The people stared on at her and her screaming family trapped in the burning wood, they watched as she screamed for help, they watched as she grew silent, they watched as the hatred for man grew in her soul, they watched.
Aenne stayed there all night as the flames continued to roar about her, she stayed there until the final flame died away, along with the final flame of hope that she held in her soul. As the day came, the light shined on her making her squint at the sudden change. Although everything around her seemed to come alive, she remained dead. The birds began to sing and fly in the dew that had come the night before, they sang their song of joy and rebirth, but that day, Aenne closed her ears to birds, she closed her eyes to sunlight, she closed her world to joy, all she welcomed was death.
* * *
Chichiri walked down the dirt path whistling a merry tone with the birds. His blue hair stood up in an unusual way that not even himself could explain. His eyes were covered with a mask that held a pleasent and inviting look to all that he saw. His smile was as bright as the noon day sun that most wished would come more often then it did, as they did with Chichiri. His clothing showed his monk orientation with his traditional clothing. Over his long sleeved white shirt was a cloak that held a pattern of light half moons, making them stand out from the dark blue backround. His cloth pants were worn to the color of the forest trees surrounding him, it revealed to all those around him his roaming nature. Around his neck were prayer beads with a gold chain that seemed to shine in the sun. His staff seemed to sing with him as the gold loops hit the other metal present that held them to the wooden base that was in Chichiri's sterdy hand.
Chichiri walked down the dirt road until he spotted smoke before him. The smell of freshly burned wood entered his nose as he quickened his pace to reach what he thought was a burning tree. As the smoke became thicker he saw before him the shadow of what looked like a small child. His walk changed to a run as he ran to the small figure in the black smoke that caused him to cough. As the smoke became thicker his vision became blurred forcing him to remove his mask, as he did the girl before him came clearly and he ran to her.
He stretched his arms to reach her and wrapped them around her. She made no attempt to move or run, she remained still, staring forward. Chichiri then lifted the small figure into his arm's and ran away from the air taking smoke that caused his cough to become quite horse.
As they left the dark smoke he placed the small girl on the ground and looked at her ash covered face, her eyes seemed blank as they stared before her with out a sign of life in them. If he hadn't of heard her breathing he would of mistaken her for dead easily. He brushed away some of the blackness from her face making her green eyes more clear to him and her blond hair. He then lifted the lifeless girl in his arms and took her to the river that he had passed only minutes before he had smelt death and took her there to remove the dirt from her. The water was cold as Chichiri dipped his cloak into the clear stream, he then took the dampened end and washed the remaining ash from her youthful face that held so much it made her look worn. She still made no attempt to move or speak, but she blinked occasionly reassuring Chichiri that she was still alive.
He then lifted some of the running water in his hands and placed them next to her thin lips that had turned blue with the cold. He helped her drink and found that she was extremly thirsty as she drank almost every drop and then silently begged for more. He smile and closed his eyes with delight as Aenne began to stir and sat up on her own. For the past hour Chichiri had been holding her in his lap like a father does with his child, Aenne didn't mind, it helped to feel as if her father was still there.
He continued to lift the water to her lips, but this time she lifted her small hand and placed it on his tan one, her touch was cold but strong as she seemed to grab him and hold on, not wanting to let him go. He smiled more and continued to let her drink for his hands for several minutes until she looked up at him.
He took in a deep breath as he looked at her wild green eyes that held such hatred and regret that he felt sorry for her. All he could see in them was a flame of hatred and revenge that frightened even the eighteen year old monk. He could only stare back at her with his eyes filled with sorrow and acceptance, he could only hope that she would accept his help. She looked into his eye and raised her hand and ran her finger against the scar which covered his left eye. He flinched as she felt the scar that had caused him such sorrow, making them understand one another without words. And as she removed her hand she placed it in his and stood with a smile on her face. He looked at her and smiled, forgetting his mask was off and stood holding her hand, and together they walked down the dirt road towards their future.
Aenne sat before the building holding a stuffed bear thats eyes reflected the flames before her. Her blond hair looked like nothing more then strands of gold lost in the wind as they flew in numerous directions, making her look free and wild. Her eyes were filled with salty tears that ran down her cheeks and to the grass that welcomed the water without question. It absorbed it as to help her forget about the pain that she was facing at the moment, a way to help her forget. Her once pink dress was torn and covered with dirt and ash as she stood, not paying attention to her apperance. The rose velvet had faded with her smile and her hope for the future to come.
As the fire raged forth, no one came to her aid, no one came to put an end to her misery, no one interfered. She watched as she saw her home, her brother, her mother, her father, her life burn to the ground with people watching. The people stared on at her and her screaming family trapped in the burning wood, they watched as she screamed for help, they watched as she grew silent, they watched as the hatred for man grew in her soul, they watched.
Aenne stayed there all night as the flames continued to roar about her, she stayed there until the final flame died away, along with the final flame of hope that she held in her soul. As the day came, the light shined on her making her squint at the sudden change. Although everything around her seemed to come alive, she remained dead. The birds began to sing and fly in the dew that had come the night before, they sang their song of joy and rebirth, but that day, Aenne closed her ears to birds, she closed her eyes to sunlight, she closed her world to joy, all she welcomed was death.
* * *
Chichiri walked down the dirt path whistling a merry tone with the birds. His blue hair stood up in an unusual way that not even himself could explain. His eyes were covered with a mask that held a pleasent and inviting look to all that he saw. His smile was as bright as the noon day sun that most wished would come more often then it did, as they did with Chichiri. His clothing showed his monk orientation with his traditional clothing. Over his long sleeved white shirt was a cloak that held a pattern of light half moons, making them stand out from the dark blue backround. His cloth pants were worn to the color of the forest trees surrounding him, it revealed to all those around him his roaming nature. Around his neck were prayer beads with a gold chain that seemed to shine in the sun. His staff seemed to sing with him as the gold loops hit the other metal present that held them to the wooden base that was in Chichiri's sterdy hand.
Chichiri walked down the dirt road until he spotted smoke before him. The smell of freshly burned wood entered his nose as he quickened his pace to reach what he thought was a burning tree. As the smoke became thicker he saw before him the shadow of what looked like a small child. His walk changed to a run as he ran to the small figure in the black smoke that caused him to cough. As the smoke became thicker his vision became blurred forcing him to remove his mask, as he did the girl before him came clearly and he ran to her.
He stretched his arms to reach her and wrapped them around her. She made no attempt to move or run, she remained still, staring forward. Chichiri then lifted the small figure into his arm's and ran away from the air taking smoke that caused his cough to become quite horse.
As they left the dark smoke he placed the small girl on the ground and looked at her ash covered face, her eyes seemed blank as they stared before her with out a sign of life in them. If he hadn't of heard her breathing he would of mistaken her for dead easily. He brushed away some of the blackness from her face making her green eyes more clear to him and her blond hair. He then lifted the lifeless girl in his arms and took her to the river that he had passed only minutes before he had smelt death and took her there to remove the dirt from her. The water was cold as Chichiri dipped his cloak into the clear stream, he then took the dampened end and washed the remaining ash from her youthful face that held so much it made her look worn. She still made no attempt to move or speak, but she blinked occasionly reassuring Chichiri that she was still alive.
He then lifted some of the running water in his hands and placed them next to her thin lips that had turned blue with the cold. He helped her drink and found that she was extremly thirsty as she drank almost every drop and then silently begged for more. He smile and closed his eyes with delight as Aenne began to stir and sat up on her own. For the past hour Chichiri had been holding her in his lap like a father does with his child, Aenne didn't mind, it helped to feel as if her father was still there.
He continued to lift the water to her lips, but this time she lifted her small hand and placed it on his tan one, her touch was cold but strong as she seemed to grab him and hold on, not wanting to let him go. He smiled more and continued to let her drink for his hands for several minutes until she looked up at him.
He took in a deep breath as he looked at her wild green eyes that held such hatred and regret that he felt sorry for her. All he could see in them was a flame of hatred and revenge that frightened even the eighteen year old monk. He could only stare back at her with his eyes filled with sorrow and acceptance, he could only hope that she would accept his help. She looked into his eye and raised her hand and ran her finger against the scar which covered his left eye. He flinched as she felt the scar that had caused him such sorrow, making them understand one another without words. And as she removed her hand she placed it in his and stood with a smile on her face. He looked at her and smiled, forgetting his mask was off and stood holding her hand, and together they walked down the dirt road towards their future.