Disclaimer: Hi. It isn't mine, though.
Warning: This might be a little angst and kawaii, but you have nothing to fear.
Little Blog: You'll have to forgive me on the lateness of this chapter, but the medication I'm on right now makes me very tired and fuzzy-feeling, so it's generally hard to think, even type. Hopefully I'll get this done and it won't sound mediocre. ^-^'
The sky opens its eyes, revealing an ocean of cloudless blue mirrors, reflecting the light of the sun onto the green tranquility of the wood. Trickling through the gaps in the pines, rays of the sun illuminating the path we have chosen to take, faeries dancing betwixt the realm of reality and nonexistence, swirling into a faded memory. I smile at their presence; it is comforting to my unquiet heart, knowing that they follow me even in the company of other human beings. A confidence, a secret we share, though the world around me sees them not.
"There is a mountain pass not far from here," I lean heavily upon my walking stick; as young as I am, my body…feels worn, tired. I feel it in my lungs, a metallic liquid splashing against the interior of them when I breathe. I struggle often to draw in deeply a clean drink of air, yet it is desperation, for I will loose breath even as I attempt to bring it in to me. Sweat is beaded on my forehead lightly, though the wind is bitterly cold. I wonder if I shall be able to lead them the entire way without my body falling prey to fatigue and weakness.
Tamahome's lady, whose name, I am told, is Miaka, begins humming a strange yet lovely tune, one I am sure I've heard before, but am unable to place…where…
At midday we reach the mountain pass, sun grown harsh in it's luminosity, a blinding flash across the sky.
"Mage," Tamahome's eyes press into my own in all seriousness, "If you be too weary to carry on, I am sure that my lady and I can make the pass on our own." His hands rest on my shoulders, a smile playing on his lips, one that permeates gratitude.
"I would it that I could show you the way, Sir," I respond quickly, "If you would permit me. For it is I who directed you here; I must see it through, that you are not injured on your way."
"Your heart amazes me. How can it be so good?" gazing up at the rocky course which is afore us, "How can anyone's heart…be so good…" There is something like the sound of a hollow wind in his voice; the sound of my chimes in the early spring, when the snow is still suffocating the life of the frail grasses. I know he is deeply troubled, that there is something else, stirring his emotions thus, yet I cannot ask it of him. He grasps the reigns of his steed tightly, his breath a soft puff of smoke in the hazy autumnal air.
The path is lined with scraggly, barren trees, all supplicating to the brilliant sun, reaching out with gnarled arms, clawing, bleeding oozing amber colored blood. Dried, grayish leaves crackle beneath our feet, a carpet of decay, and my mind wanders. Should my dark aelf awaken, and find me gone…?
I hear the wind sweep through the mountains, violently, carrying with it a thousand, no, much more than that, rustling gray leaves, dancing airborne, in a melodic harmony, pattern. I follow them with my eye, smiling to myself. They catch a hold of the passing leaves, riding on them, laughter echoing through the vacant rocks. Glancing back cautiously, I see Tamahome has stopped, looking about , an expression of confusion spread thickly across his features. "A strange feeling passes over me…" his voice is slightly tense, but hard, so as not to frighten his beloved.
"Do not fear." I offer to him a gentle, persuading smile, for I know the feeling well; the spirits of this mountain are surrounding us, peeping through the cracks in the stones, hanging from the desolate trees, eyes filled with curiosity, intrigue. One small little being, green in color, runs across the path before me, watching us, nearly stumbling in his terror. His wings are tiny, glittering in the faint light, bluish-purple, remarkable.
They are everywhere, inhabiting the sky, the earth, the seas below. My heart sings with joy.
"I surely heard laughter…like that of a babe…" Miaka speaks softly to her companion, her love, in warm tones laced with uncertainty.
"Are these mountain haunted, mage?"
I laugh, perhaps to their surprise. "No, no…" They swarm around me, giggling lightly, landing upon my shoulders, brushing their gossamer wings against my face and hair. "Not haunted."
They suddenly fly upwards, towards the vast heavens, the sun which, now overcast by darkening clouds, sheds not its brilliance to convey a hopeful path. Leaving behind only their essence, which envelopes me, I feel an undeterminable strength, deeply rooted into my soul, extensions reaching through my thin body. They have bestowed upon me something I cannot hope to repay in my lifetime, nor in many; a strength, inhuman, perfect, I walk briskly on, quickening my pace, praying in my heart thanks which no words can express. Perhaps it is strength enough just to see Sir Tamahome's safe arrival at the mountain village; perhaps it is a blessing for the rest of my days. Whatever it may be, it means this:
I cannot give up in my trials to comprehend these beings. I must continue to live among them, no matter what I must endure.
A cold wind sears through my flesh, I shudder; I feel movement in the air, in the space betwixt the trees. Glancing sideways, surreptitiously, I see a dark figure running through the air, hidden partially by the branches, his pace hastening and slowing with my own, his eyes, blood-red, meeting mine in a shattering silence. I hear a trickle of sound, that like a bell ringing; I know it is his voice, whispering through the trees, permeating the pass, a queer tune that sends a flash of color before my eye.
I pretend not to notice him, walking at a steady pace, so as not to lose my guests, yet I cannot keep myself from sneaking a glance in his direction. Aware of my knowledge, he laughs, delighted, the very clouds swirling in his mirth as he raises his arms heavenward, dancing and running simultaneously. Unable to prevent it, I giggle excitedly, quietly.
He would not leave me…even if I were to…
"Mage, I see smoke billowing up ahead! Have we reached the village already?" He comes up beside me, gripping my shoulder. Indeed, we have come to parting. I see the wooden gates, carved with symbols of old, and the roof of the monastery. We pass through the worn entrance, I feel the dread of sorrow well up inside of me.
"I would it we should not part," I grieve, clasping Tamahome's hand gently, kneeling before him. "Yet I know our paths are brief, and here you should remain, where I cannot." Our eyes meet, I see his relief, his weariness. "Know that I am forever your servant, for you have a strength unknown to all of man, that you would risk everything to love…" Turning away, hiding the tears so readily springing into my eye, I rise slowly, feeling the energy drain from me.
An aged monk, donned in brown robes, confronts us, asking our query. "Please, good monk, wise one, permit these travelers comfort within your sanctuary for a time. They are weary with trekking, and as I am unable to provide the sustenance they require, I beg of you…" I prostrate myself before him, lowering my eye to the bleak wintry ground.
He takes my sleeve, and pulls me up to face him. "Well I know of you, mage. I pray you safe return to your abode, and we shall harbor the passing ones for you." His face is a bundle of wrinkles, grinning widely.
Tamahome embraces me, "Thank you, mage. I say," He holds me in front of him, to get a more accurate view of my countenance. I turn my head slightly, unable to meet his gaze completely; it must dishearten him, to see my deformity.
Yet he presses me closer, kissing my cheek, trembling. "I say, mage," he breathes, "What is your name? I never had come to know it."
"It is Chichiri, and as I would be your servant, know well to use it when you are in fear," nodding towards his lady, "Or when times of darkness obscure your visage of love."
I watch them walk away towards the monastery, and a deep sadness wraps itself around me, a gloom which I haven't felt since I was a child. I begin my way down the pass, tears sliding down my face, so cold against my skin.
Arms around me, suddenly, behind me, a tinkling laugh in my ear, I know it is him. He untangles himself from me, then begins to run, laughing, his hair whipping about in the cold air like flames. I follow him, running as fast as my infirmity allows me, crying and laughing at the same time, trying desperately to catch up, but he is always just a little bit ahead of me. I see him look back, then stop so abruptly that I smack into him, we tumble down the pass, entangled , hysterical at our circumstance, holding onto one another as we roll to the bottom of the peak.
We tussle, laughing all the while, I put my long arms around his waist pinning him underneath me. Breath spurting out in frosty glimmering, we stare at each other, he smiles happily, his hands on my face.
"Amin mela lle," he whispers, stroking my neck affectionately.
"What…does it mean…" I whisper in return, eye wide, trying to understand. He sits up, pulling me close to his lithe body, pushing my hand heavily on his heart. It feels so good, the warm beating against my palm. Then, gently, he places his hand over my heart, nuzzles my neck, lips moving softly: "Amin mela lle."
What…? Could he be saying…?
Taking his face in my hands, "Amin mela lle?"
Smiling in ecstasy, he encircles me with his arms, holding me so close, a permeating warmth I can truly say, I've never experienced before. "What does it mean, what does it mean…"
"Chi…Chiri…Amin mela lle…" And, I see something strange, blood-colored tears well up in his beautiful eyes, glide down hi smooth cheeks, yet he smiles, his pearl white fangs lining his pink lip. Presses his head against my chest, listening to the rhythm of my decrepit heart, closes his eyes, sighing…
Could it be…that he feels…?
Does he….?
I hold him closer, weeping silently.
^-^ You guys are so coot!
Chichiri: I know, no da! *Smiles*
Tasuki: I ain't coot! I'm handsome *wink*
Well, well…review!