Of Red and Yellow
Akara was a normal teenage girl. Well, as normal as one could be, considering that she was raised by warrior monks and all. Also, I can't forget to mention her unusual eyes that reminded many of stormy seas, and her scar. Akara had a strange black scar that twisted and twined, like a vine of ivy, around her forearm, that was only distinguished by its color; it felt just like normal skin. Okay, maybe she wasn't that normal, but that isn't the point.
On the few rare occasions that Akara was found outside the training facility, she was called a witch, a demon, and was begged to leave the city of Tabonia, the capital city of the world of Tabonia, thus the same name. People avoided her stormy glare. When she walked through the streets, there seemed to be an invisible bubble around Akara, because people just went around her.
It wasn't that Akara didn't like how people avoided her. It was just on the contrary. She rather enjoyed the peacefulness of silence when people hushed when she went among them. It was just why they avoided her. Those few brave souls who weren't afraid of a warrior monk – they were idiots, I should tell you – would throw stones at her, hurl insults, and even threaten her well-being. It was on one of these occasions, when Akara was around seventeen, when she decided to leave.
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"Hey! Demonic Monk! When's your next meeting with the devil?" taunted a sarcastic young man who had previously worked with the monks, until she arrived. In his mind, she had caused him to lose his job, his wife, and his way of life. Now all he could do was find ways to ruin other's lives.
"Witch! Why don't we recreate the old burning rituals?" yelled his roommate, whose only connection to the other was their hatred of Akara. He had been the best monk until she arrived at the training center, and when he declined sharply in his progress, he was kicked out.
Soon others joined in, and some even took action, a few housewives taking revenge for jobless husbands, but mostly men who were just looking for a bit of fun. People who had no connection to Akara, just taking her to be the common target. They slowly advanced out of their homes, rusty swords, butcher knives, any weapon that could be found in their hands along with the murderous smiles on their faces.
With long practice, Akara held her long wooden staff in front of her. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't kill these individuals. A drunk, middle-aged man swung his sword at her; she dodged while hitting him hard in the stomach with her staff. The first shot having been fired, the townspeople lunged at her, but she dodged them nimbly, countering with a smart whap wherever they were exposed. Within one minute, almost all of the people were on the ground moaning or in their houses cowering in fear. She walked away from the fallen group confidently, as if she had had a good workout.
"You were holding back," said a soft voice from the shadows. Akara turned around and saw nothing.
"You held back, ignoring the fact that these people, if given the chance, would kill you," said the voice again, but from a different direction this time.
"Who are you? Show yourself!" growled Akara, her eyes piercing into the darkness, trying to find even the shadow of the person. She hated the fact that this person was mocking her inability to kill humans.
"You shouldn't hold back. Someday it'll get you... killed," uttered the strange voice. A shot rang out, echoing throughout the town. Akara turned toward the place where the shot came from. A dent was now in the wall she had been facing, the bullet having missed her by a few inches. At the end of the alleyway where all the people had collapsed – but who where gone now, thankfully – was a man of about twenty-five, dressed in a brown cloak, his short blue-black hair blowing in the soft breeze, a smoking pistol in his hand.
Akara clutched her staff tightly, and an eighteen inch long blade appeared on the end of her staff. The blade was curved kinda like a half heart, sharp and deadly. But her opponent didn't even flinch as the long blade appeared. He more rather... smirked. "So, that is your chosen weapon. Incredibly deadly, that staff, but not the best weapon against a pistol."
He aimed and shot again, maybe testing her reflexes, maybe just being incredibly idiotic and seeing if she was careless enough to get killed. Akara moved her staff so that the bullet ricocheted off the blade of her staff. "Impressive. But you aren't the first to do that move," he commented.
"What, are you testing me or something?" asked Akara, her eyes glaring at the figure.
"It's up to you to find that out. Can you defend... this?" he disappeared as he spoke, and Akara went into a defensive position. The man appeared behind her silently, and Akara turned around quickly, and jumped a few feet away from him. He sneered at her move. "Wrong move," he said simply, and shot. A fire ignited in her right shoulder, her main arm now disabled. She was pretty much defenseless now.
"Not as well-trained as I thought. I thought you could've avoided that attack, being one of the famed warrior monks of Tabonia and all," he said venemously. "I guess that means you've failed. Your life is mine now." He appeared beside her hopeless form, Akara on her knees, her left arm clutching her right shoulder, and her staff lying uselessly by her side. The man cocked his pistol, and Akara closed her eyes, knowing death was imminent.
"Darkblade, stop," said a casual voice from the sidelines. "You know she's a member of the monks, you said so yourself. They'd be after you for months if you killed this girl."
"You're too compassionate, Nightfox."
"Let your little 'test' go. She's a failure anyway." The man reluctantly lowered his pistol, and walked away. As the other passed Akara, they stopped. "Worthless bitch," they hissed, and walked in the same direction of the other. Akara got up after she was sure they were gone, and summoned her staff into her hand. She was personally glad it was dark. No one could see the blood that slowly dripped down her arm, and the tears that fell down her face at failing.
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"Did you see them?" asked the healer Kylia as she wrapped Akara's shoulder in some linen cloth bandages.
"Only the man. He had blue-black hair, dark eyes, and was thin and gaunt, very confident in himself." Akara winced as Kylia put some more herbs on the bullet wound.
"He had a good reason to be, too. Catching a monk off-guard and even having the chance to kill her. Only weapons masters or other monks can do that, last time I checked," Kylia said as she wrapped more bandages on the wound.
"I guess it's settled then. I have to leave this city, maybe even this world," said Akara sadly. "I can't keep on dealing with these threats and prejudices."
"People have two choices when dealing with something different. Ignore it, or destroy it," said Kylia wisely, pounding her fist into her open palm when she said, "destroy." "And anyway, how are you going to get away? You know the rules. 'Whoever comes into the city of Tabonia may leave, unless they were given a pass at the gates for a certain day amount.' Your pass expired years ago. The only way to get out is to..."
"Kill yourself?"
"Exactly! Wait, is that what you're going to do?" asked Kylia, stopping bandaging for a moment.
"No! I have more than enough tricks up my sleeve. I can get out of this city," said Akara.
Kylia was a healer – well, yeah, that was said in the first paragraph of this part – and was Akara's best friend. Other than those two traits, she was a normal Tabonian. The dark brownish black hair,the tanned skin, the deep crimson eyes. Yes, crimson. I didn't say she was normal on our accounts, just on their accounts. This being the normal person, Akara stood out like a sore thumb. Her silver hair was noticeable from a mile away, and her pale skin was just as eye-catching. Along with her eyes and scar, she was the most abnormal person in the world of Tabonia.
"Why do you even go into the city?" asked Kylia.
"Oh, just to please those poor townspeople. If they don't see me every other month or so, then they start getting afraid that I died in my bed or something, and are incredibly disheartened when they realize they can't kill me," said Akara in a light-hearted, sarcastic tone. "So I go there to assure them I'm not dead." Akara got up and smiled, then walked out the door.
But they don't realize... that you can't kill them. Kylia thought sadly. They won't rest until your body is found dead.
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Saphire's notes: Well, here's installment one of 'Of red and yellow.' It's basically a recreation of 'Akara's Story,' my first ever story published on I bet youhave some questions right now.Why can't Akara kill townspeople? Who are the mysterious people who are trying to kill her? Why does everybody hate her? Well, these questions will be answered in the following chapters. And yes, I know this has absolutely nothing to do with Kingdom Hearts yet. But don't you think that I would have a reason for posting this story on Fanfiction in Kingdom Hearts?
