Well, this is the first fic i've done in a rather long time. The idea came to me quite a while ago, but it never got off the ground until about a week ago when I had a huge inspiration. I hope you enjoy it, I tried hard on this one, all reviews are welcome and if you see anything that doesn't make sense and don't feel like putting it in the review, then please, e-mail me and i'll get back to you as soon as I can.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was a cold night in Autumn. Dark clouds passed through the sky, shillouetted by the full moon trying in moderate success to block it's light as they continued on their voyage through the night. The light that wasn't snagged by the unclear masses lit the tall cliff perfectly in some patches, causing the short green grass turned blue by the moon's shadowy lighton the top of the elevated land appear in a Dalmatian pattern. The waves from the sea below could be heard at the base of the cliff, rhythmically smashing, then withdrawing so as to smash again in a unending cycle.
Ryu approached the cliff from the vast green plains which led to it, his brown boots crushing the grass under them. His red cape was coiled around his thin body, helping to protect him from the piercing cold temperature. He stopped a foot short of the rocky edge of the cliff, his Cerulean eyes gazing down at the dark sea water below with a melancholy glow for a few moments, then fixated their gaze at the clouds in the sky and the silver moon, then back down to the ocean. A sharp wind blew through, rustling his long, straggly, dark blue hair. Ryu closed his eyes and pulled the cape tighter around himself until the wind died down, then released, the cape coming free to reveal a white tunic which shone with a tiny bit of reflection of a moon beam that had escaped a cloud. His left hand held a brown rectangular box crafted of unpolished black oak. It looked antiquated, splinters of the wood had long ago been chipped off a few of the corners and it appeared as though there had been some light scratches applied to the top and sides.
Ryu sighed and sat himself down on the cliff edge, his exposed legs tensing up for a second as they touched the cold rock on the cliff wall, then relaxed as the sensation passed. Another wind passed through, causing the cape to flutter like a flag to his side, then fall limp as the force passed. He placed the oaken box in the grass next to his left leg, his eyes glued to the ocean. The sound of the crashing waves, the movement of the sea and the feeling of the soft grass that his hands lay on top of was soothing. He enjoyed the serene scene which encompassed him, having grown tired of the troubles and constant attention by the townspeople of Dragnier. He had almost forgotten such places of beauty as this.
Ryu's hand slid over the smooth box at his side, then hoisted it onto his lap. Some moonlight struck at the top of it, illuminating the dark wood.
Ryu smiled, tracing his fingers over the scratches on the wood from top to side, then grasped the small indention on the long side and plied it open, the top easily sliding off. The inside was covered in a dark velvet cloth with gold lines zigzagging through it in random directions, a thin layer of cotton hidden under the cloth soften the inside. In the middle of the cloth lay a silver flute almost as long as the box itself, it was fixed in an indention made especially for it, parts of a engraving of a long serpent like dragon running from the mouthpiece to the end of it.
Ryu placed the top of the box on his bare leg, then tenderly picked up the flute in a delicate grasp, holding it in his outstretched palm. He looked at the engraving beginning at the top of the mouthpiece, seeing that it coiled around the flute itself, and so rolled it in his hand slowly, catching every detail of it as the silvery shaft completed it's rotation. The dragon was more like a snake than a dragon, a single majestic whisker on each side of it's snout flowed down to around it's first set of legs. In the middle of the beast lay two chicken sized wings extended in a flying motion, a little further down was a second pair of legs, the tail of the beast continuing to the end of the flute then wrapping around it like a ring. Slowly Ryu rolled the flute again, then grasped it in-between his fingers so that it was pointing to the ground. Directly below the bottom of the mouthpiece some words were sketched vertically.
A special gift
From Ryu
To Sara
Another year
of happy times
and sunshine!
As he read the inscription, a deep, resonating ping of sadness emanated throughout his heart, and tiny memories came creeping into his mind of a warm summer day from times long past. Ryu was much younger then, about six or seven years old and Sara was somewhere around eleven.
Ryu ran headlong into the elder of Dragnier's house, in which Sara had been studying for her priesthood of the light dragon. She stood in front of the ignited fireplace at the far end of the room, reading a large black hardcover book. She wasn't expecting him to come barging in, and so quickly turned to face him as he came running , giving a questioning glancing with her blue eyes.
"Sara, look what I bought you from a Manillo merchant! I saved up my gold coins for a month!"
Sara slowly reached down, her blue hair cascading over her shoulders and picked the box up with a smile on her innocent young face, then opened, a delighted expression sliding over her lips as she picked up the flute, which shined and glinted in the firelight.
"Ryu, that's so thoughtful. Thank you." Sara leaned down and gave the younger Ryu a loving bear hug. "Let me try it out." She lightly pressed her lips to the mouthpiece, took in a large breath and blew hard. The produced sound screeched through the air like a siren, Ryu instantly put his hands to his ears, and Sara quickly pulled away from it, laughing. "It looks like I need some practice, huh Ryu?"
Ryu gave a carefree laugh, nodding his head excitedly in agreement. "Yup!"
Ryu gave a sad smirk as the scene replayed in his mind repeatedly. The memory at one time was a happy one, but no longer, now it was like a dose of light snake venom in his veins, harming, but not killing him with each passing minute. He drove the thoughts from his mind as quickly as he could, trying not to dwell on them anymore. He told himself almost minutely that there was no sense living in the past, but through hell or high waters, his mind and heart refused to listen.
Another memory came then, a sadder one which only increased his pain. The day the Dark Dragon Army attacked. He refused to allow his mind to generate the picture, but the sounds of the day got by. The sounds of the beating wings of the dark dragons as they landed and spread out their troops, the sounds of the fire which had engulfed the village, and the words Sara had left him as she protected Ryu and the villagers by petrifying them.
"Be strong Ryu. I know....that one day, you will bring peace to the world. Never forget the mission of the light dragons....and let nothing stand in your way."
The remembrance brought forth both anger and despair at once, two very uninvited guests. He slammed his fist angrily into the hard ground beneath him, smashing grass down as it impacted with a loud thud.
Why did she do it? Why didn't she think he could fight the dark dragons then? If she hadn't done what she did that day, then she would never have...
Another memory came flying like a kamakazi plane into his mind then, a darker, far more sinister memory which he had tried so desperately to forget in the past months. The memory tore into him like claws of some ferocious monster, threatening to rip apart his sanity in one deadly slash. He fought to keep the memory away from his mind, his eyes closed tightly and his hands cupping over his torn face.
He could still feel the the tension as his sword pierced through her chest. How the blood slowly poured out of the wound, drenching her white robes in it, and he could still feel her as she brought his sad, shuddering form close to her and embraced him as her beloved brother, wiping the torrent of tears from his eyes as the life seeped out of her.
She would never have died.
Suddenly, he felt something warm and liquidy on his hands. It was a feeling he knew all to well from the numerous amount of monsters and men which he had killed when he crusaded with his companions against the Dark Dragons. Hesitantly, he pulled his hands away from his face, and saw, to his horror, that what he felt was what he thought it was. Dark blood covered his pale hands. Ryu quickly scrambled back away from the cliff in terror, as if trying to run from his own limbs, the box with the flute falling to the grass at his side. He tore the red cape from his back and rubbed his hands vigorously, but the blood wouldn't come off, it didn't even get smudged. No matter how much he tried to get rid of the life fluid, it wouldn't go away. Then, in a final attempt, he shut his eyes to try and strike the vision from his hands. He held them closed for a few seconds, then hesitantly opened them, bringing his hands to his face. To his relief, the blood had disappeared.
He leaned back, a hand behind him for support while the other stuck soundly to his face. He felt alone in the darkness, like the only person in the whole unforgiving world. He sat for a time there, unable to speak or think. Finally, he got to his feet. He stalked slowly over to the flute and it's case, grimly picking up the case, then the flute. He stood there, staring blankly at the silver instrument. From the corner of his right eye formed a tear and quickly fell to the waiting ground.
"Sara..."
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was a cold night in Autumn. Dark clouds passed through the sky, shillouetted by the full moon trying in moderate success to block it's light as they continued on their voyage through the night. The light that wasn't snagged by the unclear masses lit the tall cliff perfectly in some patches, causing the short green grass turned blue by the moon's shadowy lighton the top of the elevated land appear in a Dalmatian pattern. The waves from the sea below could be heard at the base of the cliff, rhythmically smashing, then withdrawing so as to smash again in a unending cycle.
Ryu approached the cliff from the vast green plains which led to it, his brown boots crushing the grass under them. His red cape was coiled around his thin body, helping to protect him from the piercing cold temperature. He stopped a foot short of the rocky edge of the cliff, his Cerulean eyes gazing down at the dark sea water below with a melancholy glow for a few moments, then fixated their gaze at the clouds in the sky and the silver moon, then back down to the ocean. A sharp wind blew through, rustling his long, straggly, dark blue hair. Ryu closed his eyes and pulled the cape tighter around himself until the wind died down, then released, the cape coming free to reveal a white tunic which shone with a tiny bit of reflection of a moon beam that had escaped a cloud. His left hand held a brown rectangular box crafted of unpolished black oak. It looked antiquated, splinters of the wood had long ago been chipped off a few of the corners and it appeared as though there had been some light scratches applied to the top and sides.
Ryu sighed and sat himself down on the cliff edge, his exposed legs tensing up for a second as they touched the cold rock on the cliff wall, then relaxed as the sensation passed. Another wind passed through, causing the cape to flutter like a flag to his side, then fall limp as the force passed. He placed the oaken box in the grass next to his left leg, his eyes glued to the ocean. The sound of the crashing waves, the movement of the sea and the feeling of the soft grass that his hands lay on top of was soothing. He enjoyed the serene scene which encompassed him, having grown tired of the troubles and constant attention by the townspeople of Dragnier. He had almost forgotten such places of beauty as this.
Ryu's hand slid over the smooth box at his side, then hoisted it onto his lap. Some moonlight struck at the top of it, illuminating the dark wood.
Ryu smiled, tracing his fingers over the scratches on the wood from top to side, then grasped the small indention on the long side and plied it open, the top easily sliding off. The inside was covered in a dark velvet cloth with gold lines zigzagging through it in random directions, a thin layer of cotton hidden under the cloth soften the inside. In the middle of the cloth lay a silver flute almost as long as the box itself, it was fixed in an indention made especially for it, parts of a engraving of a long serpent like dragon running from the mouthpiece to the end of it.
Ryu placed the top of the box on his bare leg, then tenderly picked up the flute in a delicate grasp, holding it in his outstretched palm. He looked at the engraving beginning at the top of the mouthpiece, seeing that it coiled around the flute itself, and so rolled it in his hand slowly, catching every detail of it as the silvery shaft completed it's rotation. The dragon was more like a snake than a dragon, a single majestic whisker on each side of it's snout flowed down to around it's first set of legs. In the middle of the beast lay two chicken sized wings extended in a flying motion, a little further down was a second pair of legs, the tail of the beast continuing to the end of the flute then wrapping around it like a ring. Slowly Ryu rolled the flute again, then grasped it in-between his fingers so that it was pointing to the ground. Directly below the bottom of the mouthpiece some words were sketched vertically.
A special gift
From Ryu
To Sara
Another year
of happy times
and sunshine!
As he read the inscription, a deep, resonating ping of sadness emanated throughout his heart, and tiny memories came creeping into his mind of a warm summer day from times long past. Ryu was much younger then, about six or seven years old and Sara was somewhere around eleven.
Ryu ran headlong into the elder of Dragnier's house, in which Sara had been studying for her priesthood of the light dragon. She stood in front of the ignited fireplace at the far end of the room, reading a large black hardcover book. She wasn't expecting him to come barging in, and so quickly turned to face him as he came running , giving a questioning glancing with her blue eyes.
"Sara, look what I bought you from a Manillo merchant! I saved up my gold coins for a month!"
Sara slowly reached down, her blue hair cascading over her shoulders and picked the box up with a smile on her innocent young face, then opened, a delighted expression sliding over her lips as she picked up the flute, which shined and glinted in the firelight.
"Ryu, that's so thoughtful. Thank you." Sara leaned down and gave the younger Ryu a loving bear hug. "Let me try it out." She lightly pressed her lips to the mouthpiece, took in a large breath and blew hard. The produced sound screeched through the air like a siren, Ryu instantly put his hands to his ears, and Sara quickly pulled away from it, laughing. "It looks like I need some practice, huh Ryu?"
Ryu gave a carefree laugh, nodding his head excitedly in agreement. "Yup!"
Ryu gave a sad smirk as the scene replayed in his mind repeatedly. The memory at one time was a happy one, but no longer, now it was like a dose of light snake venom in his veins, harming, but not killing him with each passing minute. He drove the thoughts from his mind as quickly as he could, trying not to dwell on them anymore. He told himself almost minutely that there was no sense living in the past, but through hell or high waters, his mind and heart refused to listen.
Another memory came then, a sadder one which only increased his pain. The day the Dark Dragon Army attacked. He refused to allow his mind to generate the picture, but the sounds of the day got by. The sounds of the beating wings of the dark dragons as they landed and spread out their troops, the sounds of the fire which had engulfed the village, and the words Sara had left him as she protected Ryu and the villagers by petrifying them.
"Be strong Ryu. I know....that one day, you will bring peace to the world. Never forget the mission of the light dragons....and let nothing stand in your way."
The remembrance brought forth both anger and despair at once, two very uninvited guests. He slammed his fist angrily into the hard ground beneath him, smashing grass down as it impacted with a loud thud.
Why did she do it? Why didn't she think he could fight the dark dragons then? If she hadn't done what she did that day, then she would never have...
Another memory came flying like a kamakazi plane into his mind then, a darker, far more sinister memory which he had tried so desperately to forget in the past months. The memory tore into him like claws of some ferocious monster, threatening to rip apart his sanity in one deadly slash. He fought to keep the memory away from his mind, his eyes closed tightly and his hands cupping over his torn face.
He could still feel the the tension as his sword pierced through her chest. How the blood slowly poured out of the wound, drenching her white robes in it, and he could still feel her as she brought his sad, shuddering form close to her and embraced him as her beloved brother, wiping the torrent of tears from his eyes as the life seeped out of her.
She would never have died.
Suddenly, he felt something warm and liquidy on his hands. It was a feeling he knew all to well from the numerous amount of monsters and men which he had killed when he crusaded with his companions against the Dark Dragons. Hesitantly, he pulled his hands away from his face, and saw, to his horror, that what he felt was what he thought it was. Dark blood covered his pale hands. Ryu quickly scrambled back away from the cliff in terror, as if trying to run from his own limbs, the box with the flute falling to the grass at his side. He tore the red cape from his back and rubbed his hands vigorously, but the blood wouldn't come off, it didn't even get smudged. No matter how much he tried to get rid of the life fluid, it wouldn't go away. Then, in a final attempt, he shut his eyes to try and strike the vision from his hands. He held them closed for a few seconds, then hesitantly opened them, bringing his hands to his face. To his relief, the blood had disappeared.
He leaned back, a hand behind him for support while the other stuck soundly to his face. He felt alone in the darkness, like the only person in the whole unforgiving world. He sat for a time there, unable to speak or think. Finally, he got to his feet. He stalked slowly over to the flute and it's case, grimly picking up the case, then the flute. He stood there, staring blankly at the silver instrument. From the corner of his right eye formed a tear and quickly fell to the waiting ground.
"Sara..."
