Haunted
Chapter One: Nowhere to be Seen
Kel sat in her rooms, giggling as Neal and Merric had a pillow war. It was quite funny to watch the two knights do this.
Suddenly, a knock sounded on the door. She pulled it open, and smiled to herself as the boys continued to fight behind her, oblivious to the other person.
A rather tired looking messenger stood at the door. "Lady Knight, I regret to inform you that your fiance, Sergeant Domitian of Masbolle of Third Company, was slain in battle June 12, 463 H.E. He was killed while leading his men into attack against a large party of Scanra troops."
Her face was blank, void of all emotion. She felt blank. Empty.
She heard her friends behind her go silent; she heard Neal's pillow drop to the floor. The room was perfectly quiet, and the noise, soft as it may be normally, was deafening.
The messenger left with a bow. Kel, however, couldn't move. She felt frozen in time, and all she could think of was his last words to her. "I will never leave you."
Arms wrapped themselves around her, and she was pulled back into Neal's warm chest. They stood that way for long minutes. Something hot hit her arm and rolled down to her hand. Neal was crying. Something she could not do. Corpses didn't cry. And that's what she felt like. A hollow body, empty of the soul it had once carried.
She jolted awake. Even five years later, that memory stood plain in her mind, haunting her. The pain she had felt that day was still as sharp as it had been. It felt like a knife forever embedded in her heart.
It was almost an hour before dawn, she knew. This was the time she was awoken every morning by that memory. That nightmare. As she had become accustomed to it, she had begun to get up about that time each morning to practice her glaive. Her day began like that every morning, and had all those long years. Every day followed a specific pattern, a pattern that she refused to break. It was like that if she broke her routine, she herself would collapse. One thing in her life had to be orderly to keep her together, and that was it. It had to be the same every day.
After doing the complicated twists and turns of her pattern dance, she made her way down the familiar path to the mess hall. Though several people were already in the hallway, she greeted no one. They didn't acknowledge her either. Since his death, she had become emotionless and cold. She had hid inside herself, and no one wanted to be around her. Her friends stuck by her, however. A lot of times, they would get frustrated, angry, with her. Yet they were still there, talking with her, joking with her, hoping to see some shadow the person she used to be. But it had never come. They waited, day after day. It wasn't there. Year after year. It was still nowhere to be seen.
Yes, I know, very short. Expect it from this story. However, I shall soon have the next chapter up. And it will actually include some conversation. And yes, Nolee, most likely some Joren.