The Aeon and the Star
GoldenEagle
Author's Notes: Ah, it's been a while since I've written! Writer's block? Plain personal stress? All of the above, I imagine, but I'm also brainstorming up a book. Inspired by a dream I had. I guess it's gonna be some kinda horror, or something of the sort, if I can even WRITE horror. But it's original, and if I can get if off the ground, I may try to get it published. *sigh* but for now, here's the next part of The Aeon and the Star. Kinda weird how I wrote it, but I guess that's because I felt like doing it that way. Sorry if it's confusing!
Chapter Two
*Fire. Glass. Blood. Crimson grass, crumpled metal... What's going on?*
Tears had clung to the girl's cheeks. She brushed them away angrily, only to hiss out in pain as her soft hands brushed harshly against the newly received cuts and bruises. She threw a murderous glance back at the door that had just been slammed in her face. *Damn him. Damn the fucker.* And still she seethed with pain at his rejection. How could she have imagined love with someone so shallow? Had she been a fool, despite herself? The biggest bump in their relationship had risen up, and now he wished to try no longer to get things right. And so she had stood, her ebony black hair falling in long strands down to the small of her back. Deep, jungle green eyes stared out from the dark head of hair, one of those eyes swelling. He had beat her... The damn boy had beat her! She bubbled with a hellish rage, a murderous, dangerous rage. She could remember how enraged she had been. How she had wanted, no, *planned* to kill him. He had left her when she needed him the most. She remembered stepping into the car, swerving out of the driveway. Remembered turning the radio up, screaming voices and loud guitars swallowing her whole, matching her feelings-
*Mom! Help me! I can't move. I can't breath without pain! What's wrong with me?!*
Going home. Mom had moved all the way from Japan to Texas, Houston, to be more precise. The girl remembered very little of Japan, very little indeed. All her memories of that place were broken and distorted by a toddler's sense of reality. She had looked up, looked up to the darkening sky, frowning. What time was it now? Already six fifteen? She had tensed her jaw. Curfew began at seven for the Texas coast, and violators were punished harshly. Not just arrested, charged for a misdemeanor, but sometimes beaten... Sometimes raped. The police force had been replaced by soldiers, as had everyone else, it seemed. World War III had come to a close only a few years back, and a fourth seemed on its way. She pushed the thoughts from her mind. She was only fifteen, mind you, and sometimes the American government resorted to call on young, strong teens, whether male or female. She had avoided one summoning already, but she could not avoid a second. The sun sunk below the horizon and she cursed. A light, slightly sea tainted breeze blew harshly against her as her red convertible sped on, well past eighty miles an hour. She cursed again as a slight fog began to roll in on the empty road around her. Everyone knew to be inside by seven. Before seven. And she was still an hour away. The fog (or was it smog?) thickened around her and she growled out in frustration, her annoyed plea not heard over the radio. It only enraged her when she found she couldn't see too far, couldn't see past the veil of grey substance. She put her foot on the gas, bringing the car up, past what the dial could read. *Damn this!* Faster, faster... Something in the road, flickering, like an apparition. A cat, huge cat- No, no, a man, hunched over, standing, looking at her oncoming form. No, he was a cat, he was a man, snow white, flickering, apparition... An Acid trip? Gods, she had only taken the damn drug a few times- No, he was still there, in the road, staring at her, tale twitching, human hands clutched. This was no dream! She was going to hit him! Her eyes grew wide, the car swerved, the ghost flickered out and-
*Cold. It's so cold. Mother! Mother, save me, I'm not supposed to bleed like this! Why? Why?! Surely, I'm not so... human?*
She had hit the concrete divider, her scream actually piercing over the radio, metal pushing in. She had hit at over a hundred miles an hour, no seat belt, and the world around her had shattered. Shattered to a million pieces. There had been spinning, like the tilt-o-whirl she had once ridden on and thrown up after. And then she had flown. Flown for a long while, through glass at first, the sharp strands digging into her arms. There was that feeling, as she was falling, of utter, hopeless horror, the kind you get when your snow skiing and you can't stop yourself from going over the edge of the trail, or when you have a baby in your arms and you trip forward. And then she had hit, and the reality had surrounded her, and she had let out a loose, broken cry. Her head was on its side, her arms twisted around her, along with her legs, as the radio continued to play, even as the twisted metal lay next to her. Even worse than the fall was the realization that no one would find her until dawn, no one except maybe the curfew patrol teams, and who knew what they'd do to her? Then there had been light, bright and clean and blinding. Had someone found her? She didn't have the energy to care. Were those ambulance lights flashing? No. There was no siren. And there was only the blue and white tint of the light. Oh, gods, she was dying. She could feel herself being pulled from her body, from the ground, into the air. And just as quickly as it had happened, she could feel herself being laid down gently, on soft, tall grass. The air smelled different, much more clean. No smog, only wood and flowers. She opened her eyes, her head now facing up, her broken and torn body sprawled on its back. Darkness, darkness, and light... Stars, the moons, the... The *moons*?
*The moons, staring down at me... Momma? Momma! Where... Where am I?!*
*************
A woman in her mid-thirties paced nervously, intertwining her hands. Where was the damn girl? Curfew had come and gone a few hours ago, and her daughter had not returned in. Dark, ruby hair, cut short and molded around her ears, flows ever so slightly as the pacing increases speed. She listened to the thuds of her footsteps on the carpet. Her heart pounded with worry, filling her ears with the internal sound-
No, no, it wasn't her heart any longer. The door frame seemed to rattle as it was shaken again, two heavy poundings reaching inside. The woman paused, her dark eyes filling with distress. That was not the sound of her daughter. Not the sound of her confident and characteristic knock. She hesitated before stepping forward, her hands brushing lightly against the brass knob a moment and then clamping down on it, turning it. She opened the door swiftly, drawing off her reserve of hidden strength just to do so. A tall form filled her doorway, another wide one behind it. They wore the crisp, red uniforms of the police and military squads. The man looked back at her gravely, his sharp features swimming and blurring before her eyes as she realized something was terribly wrong. Something was horribly askew.
"You are the mother of Cassiel Yunami, am I correct?" She could only nod, his deep baritone voice rustling her senses, destroying her line of thought. "There's been an accident-"
"What do you mean, an accident?" She had suddenly found her voice, loud and panicked and strangely pathetic compared to its usual, strong self.
"Miss Yunami, try to relax. We found your daughter's car. It had been badly damaged. But we are yet to find where she is at. Do you have any idea where she may be? Ma'am? Miss Yunami?" She didn't reply, her face going pale, going blank. The man in the doorway sighed and threw a cautious glance back at the man behind him. "Yukari Yunami, if you'd just follow us. We'd like to ask you a few questions about your daughter." Yukari could do nothing but nod and follow the man outside, into the dimming twilight.
**************
"Gods, Nod, did you *see* that? It was like a bold of lightening or something! Quit giving me that look. We'll be back by the time they wake- Oh, gods, Nod, oh gods, what happened? What *happened*?!"
*Voices. Voices, I hear voices.*
"What happened to her?" A feminine voice, strangely liquid and lithe, almost inhuman in its grace of syllable and tone.
"I don't care, Tanara, just leave the damn thing there. We don't need anymore of *their* kind among our party." A voice growled, literally *growled*, out.
A pause insued, a disapproving pause. "Surely, Nodin... Surely your heart has not grown so cold and hard so soon? She will die without our help."
Another growl, more like a hiss. "My heart is not cold to most, but it has grown cold to them."
A sigh, wistful, strangely beautiful within itself. "You hate them because they have made us slaves. But I do not hate them. At least, not this one. Please, Nodin, if not for the child, then for me?" A pause, as if the plea had gone on deaf ears, and then a huff of resignation.
"All right, Tanara, all right. But I'm not cleaning up after the filthy thing."
Author's Note: It was shorter than most of mine. How does everyone get the itallics and stuff? I download as text documents, but I can never figure out how to do itallics, whether through the program or through html. I could have really used it in this chapter, since all the *stuff* was supposed to be italicized... Ah, well, I could really use some help, though! Read and review! Thankees!
GoldenEagle
Author's Notes: Ah, it's been a while since I've written! Writer's block? Plain personal stress? All of the above, I imagine, but I'm also brainstorming up a book. Inspired by a dream I had. I guess it's gonna be some kinda horror, or something of the sort, if I can even WRITE horror. But it's original, and if I can get if off the ground, I may try to get it published. *sigh* but for now, here's the next part of The Aeon and the Star. Kinda weird how I wrote it, but I guess that's because I felt like doing it that way. Sorry if it's confusing!
Chapter Two
*Fire. Glass. Blood. Crimson grass, crumpled metal... What's going on?*
Tears had clung to the girl's cheeks. She brushed them away angrily, only to hiss out in pain as her soft hands brushed harshly against the newly received cuts and bruises. She threw a murderous glance back at the door that had just been slammed in her face. *Damn him. Damn the fucker.* And still she seethed with pain at his rejection. How could she have imagined love with someone so shallow? Had she been a fool, despite herself? The biggest bump in their relationship had risen up, and now he wished to try no longer to get things right. And so she had stood, her ebony black hair falling in long strands down to the small of her back. Deep, jungle green eyes stared out from the dark head of hair, one of those eyes swelling. He had beat her... The damn boy had beat her! She bubbled with a hellish rage, a murderous, dangerous rage. She could remember how enraged she had been. How she had wanted, no, *planned* to kill him. He had left her when she needed him the most. She remembered stepping into the car, swerving out of the driveway. Remembered turning the radio up, screaming voices and loud guitars swallowing her whole, matching her feelings-
*Mom! Help me! I can't move. I can't breath without pain! What's wrong with me?!*
Going home. Mom had moved all the way from Japan to Texas, Houston, to be more precise. The girl remembered very little of Japan, very little indeed. All her memories of that place were broken and distorted by a toddler's sense of reality. She had looked up, looked up to the darkening sky, frowning. What time was it now? Already six fifteen? She had tensed her jaw. Curfew began at seven for the Texas coast, and violators were punished harshly. Not just arrested, charged for a misdemeanor, but sometimes beaten... Sometimes raped. The police force had been replaced by soldiers, as had everyone else, it seemed. World War III had come to a close only a few years back, and a fourth seemed on its way. She pushed the thoughts from her mind. She was only fifteen, mind you, and sometimes the American government resorted to call on young, strong teens, whether male or female. She had avoided one summoning already, but she could not avoid a second. The sun sunk below the horizon and she cursed. A light, slightly sea tainted breeze blew harshly against her as her red convertible sped on, well past eighty miles an hour. She cursed again as a slight fog began to roll in on the empty road around her. Everyone knew to be inside by seven. Before seven. And she was still an hour away. The fog (or was it smog?) thickened around her and she growled out in frustration, her annoyed plea not heard over the radio. It only enraged her when she found she couldn't see too far, couldn't see past the veil of grey substance. She put her foot on the gas, bringing the car up, past what the dial could read. *Damn this!* Faster, faster... Something in the road, flickering, like an apparition. A cat, huge cat- No, no, a man, hunched over, standing, looking at her oncoming form. No, he was a cat, he was a man, snow white, flickering, apparition... An Acid trip? Gods, she had only taken the damn drug a few times- No, he was still there, in the road, staring at her, tale twitching, human hands clutched. This was no dream! She was going to hit him! Her eyes grew wide, the car swerved, the ghost flickered out and-
*Cold. It's so cold. Mother! Mother, save me, I'm not supposed to bleed like this! Why? Why?! Surely, I'm not so... human?*
She had hit the concrete divider, her scream actually piercing over the radio, metal pushing in. She had hit at over a hundred miles an hour, no seat belt, and the world around her had shattered. Shattered to a million pieces. There had been spinning, like the tilt-o-whirl she had once ridden on and thrown up after. And then she had flown. Flown for a long while, through glass at first, the sharp strands digging into her arms. There was that feeling, as she was falling, of utter, hopeless horror, the kind you get when your snow skiing and you can't stop yourself from going over the edge of the trail, or when you have a baby in your arms and you trip forward. And then she had hit, and the reality had surrounded her, and she had let out a loose, broken cry. Her head was on its side, her arms twisted around her, along with her legs, as the radio continued to play, even as the twisted metal lay next to her. Even worse than the fall was the realization that no one would find her until dawn, no one except maybe the curfew patrol teams, and who knew what they'd do to her? Then there had been light, bright and clean and blinding. Had someone found her? She didn't have the energy to care. Were those ambulance lights flashing? No. There was no siren. And there was only the blue and white tint of the light. Oh, gods, she was dying. She could feel herself being pulled from her body, from the ground, into the air. And just as quickly as it had happened, she could feel herself being laid down gently, on soft, tall grass. The air smelled different, much more clean. No smog, only wood and flowers. She opened her eyes, her head now facing up, her broken and torn body sprawled on its back. Darkness, darkness, and light... Stars, the moons, the... The *moons*?
*The moons, staring down at me... Momma? Momma! Where... Where am I?!*
*************
A woman in her mid-thirties paced nervously, intertwining her hands. Where was the damn girl? Curfew had come and gone a few hours ago, and her daughter had not returned in. Dark, ruby hair, cut short and molded around her ears, flows ever so slightly as the pacing increases speed. She listened to the thuds of her footsteps on the carpet. Her heart pounded with worry, filling her ears with the internal sound-
No, no, it wasn't her heart any longer. The door frame seemed to rattle as it was shaken again, two heavy poundings reaching inside. The woman paused, her dark eyes filling with distress. That was not the sound of her daughter. Not the sound of her confident and characteristic knock. She hesitated before stepping forward, her hands brushing lightly against the brass knob a moment and then clamping down on it, turning it. She opened the door swiftly, drawing off her reserve of hidden strength just to do so. A tall form filled her doorway, another wide one behind it. They wore the crisp, red uniforms of the police and military squads. The man looked back at her gravely, his sharp features swimming and blurring before her eyes as she realized something was terribly wrong. Something was horribly askew.
"You are the mother of Cassiel Yunami, am I correct?" She could only nod, his deep baritone voice rustling her senses, destroying her line of thought. "There's been an accident-"
"What do you mean, an accident?" She had suddenly found her voice, loud and panicked and strangely pathetic compared to its usual, strong self.
"Miss Yunami, try to relax. We found your daughter's car. It had been badly damaged. But we are yet to find where she is at. Do you have any idea where she may be? Ma'am? Miss Yunami?" She didn't reply, her face going pale, going blank. The man in the doorway sighed and threw a cautious glance back at the man behind him. "Yukari Yunami, if you'd just follow us. We'd like to ask you a few questions about your daughter." Yukari could do nothing but nod and follow the man outside, into the dimming twilight.
**************
"Gods, Nod, did you *see* that? It was like a bold of lightening or something! Quit giving me that look. We'll be back by the time they wake- Oh, gods, Nod, oh gods, what happened? What *happened*?!"
*Voices. Voices, I hear voices.*
"What happened to her?" A feminine voice, strangely liquid and lithe, almost inhuman in its grace of syllable and tone.
"I don't care, Tanara, just leave the damn thing there. We don't need anymore of *their* kind among our party." A voice growled, literally *growled*, out.
A pause insued, a disapproving pause. "Surely, Nodin... Surely your heart has not grown so cold and hard so soon? She will die without our help."
Another growl, more like a hiss. "My heart is not cold to most, but it has grown cold to them."
A sigh, wistful, strangely beautiful within itself. "You hate them because they have made us slaves. But I do not hate them. At least, not this one. Please, Nodin, if not for the child, then for me?" A pause, as if the plea had gone on deaf ears, and then a huff of resignation.
"All right, Tanara, all right. But I'm not cleaning up after the filthy thing."
Author's Note: It was shorter than most of mine. How does everyone get the itallics and stuff? I download as text documents, but I can never figure out how to do itallics, whether through the program or through html. I could have really used it in this chapter, since all the *stuff* was supposed to be italicized... Ah, well, I could really use some help, though! Read and review! Thankees!
