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Series: A Widows Veil
Title: Darkest before Dawn
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Prologue: Starless Nights
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He remained on his perch, unfazed by cold, bitter wind dancing spirals around him, nipping at any unprotected flesh, tugging at his pale hair, forcing it to waver like banner.
His hands hung limp over his knees, his body perfectly balanced on his solid perch, black haori flapping unmercifully as another gust of wind flew by. With that gust the figure inhaled deeply taking in the scent carried along with the wind. The air itself was cool and clear, whipping away the foulness of everything with each burst, replacing it with something that he had almost forgotten... life.
It was on nights like this he was free... even if only in his mind. On nights like this the air itself called to his blood, his skin tingled with each bashing the wind threw at him. On nights like this death seemed like something that could be excepted, as long as it was at this very moment... On nights like this his heart pounded, his pulse jumped, his breath caught, on nights like this, he was alive, and on nights like this he willing to live...
The branches of his perch, barren of any form of life, crackled and bent at the force of the wind pressing on their tired, hollow forms. The highest of the branches swaying when hit with great enough force, only to swing back to be hit again. The cycle was systematically wearing at the strength of the once proud tree, tearing it apart, layer by layer. All were tired, all were worn...
All except the strong fortress towering above, dominating, tips so close to sky it was rumored they had scratched the moon. strong, unyielding, unforgiving, it reeked of power, fear, heartbreak and sorrow, which seemed so thick around the walls, that you could almost brush them away from your face. All were affected, and any around the castle for a substantial amount of time felt its toll, as the light in their eyes faded, their complexion paled, and movements became slow and lifeless.
The world outside the castle was was silent, beyond the cries of an aching tree. Guards manned their posts, awake and alert, as there life training came into effect of following orders, without doubt, without question, and later without guilt. Beyond the castle in the homes of the citizens, the last embers in the fires sparked, still fighting, unwilling to lay down and die. The people minds were laced with thoughts of peace, contentment, unaware of anything beyond that of their daily lives and routines.
Around the castle the land was as empty as the sky, except for his old oak, which remained the last grown structure on the premises.
The oak had lost it color slowly, from at first being slightly jaded, till becoming bleached dry . It was covered in intercede designs, why thin dead vines weaved their way through the trunk of the ash blended tree. Its branches, and twigs reached for the sky in gray desperation, as if trying to touch something just out of its reach.
Golden eyes to a faced drowned by shadow focused on a single window, the only remaining source of light at this late hour by the candle set in front of it, flickering like a beacon drawing to it, moths and fire flies that aimlessly tapped the window in their attempt to reach it.
Looking down at his hands he stared not at them, but at the horrors they had caused, that they would cause again. Slowly they clenched into fists as his nails dug into his palms tearing though the skin. Looking closer he watched as blood poured into his hands covering a tattoo of a black widow in the center of his palm. Covering what he had always been, what he would always be, even if only for a moment, covering it.
He knew that blood could not erase what he was. If it could he would have been a new man a hundred times over. But it couldn't.
Nothing could.
With the next gust of wind he leapt of his perch, hitting the ground without a sound, and taking off with the wind following close behind him. Adrenaline began to pump into his ears, its quickening beat making his skin hum. Without pause he bounded of trees, skimming rocks, feeling only a hint of pain from the snagging branches, as the pounding in his head grew to further heights.
The winds song soon became nothing more then a high scream, his ears flattening to his head, it was too much, it wasn't enough.
He continued on, sprinting under the naked black sky, ignoring the ache that began to settle form around his muscle, the hitching in his breath, he continued on.
Nothing could be heard, nothing could been seen. The pounding of his blood had taken control, there was no plan, it wasn't enough...
With another leap, he bounded off another tree, going to the extremes, were there was nothing, nothing to be had..so more importantly nothing to be taken, or wanted. His feet left bloody imprints on the trees, but he was too far gone to even feel the pain.
His frantic dash to nothing continued, feet torn beyond recognition, hands cut and bleeding, he was free, he was alive.
Finally Landing with a sickening thud on a single bolder in a cleared valley did he stop. Panting from the rush of blood rather then the run itself, his golden eyes remained un focused and wild. Nails digging into the bolder he threw his head back, white hair streaming over the pale bolder, and howled.
His voice was raw, torn, his cry echoing off the emptiness os the valley, cutting through the night, leaving it stiller if possible as all froze with the hearing of such a cry.
The silence that followed was disrupted by his flowing ragged breaths, eyes now closed, not wanting to see anything, knowing there was nothing to be seen. yet even with his eyes closed did he see the red, the blazing orange. Even know he could hear the crackle of flames as they tore through the sky, lighting up night. Such a pretty sight
Slowly his breaths calmed, his heart beat returning to normal, the pounding fading away. Inside, in the darkest places of his existence, his soul cried out at the abandonment of the drive, of the only emotion that he still had left to feel, of what had kept him alive. Leaving him empty, dry as the tree he had sat upon nothing less then a life time ago.
With a snap amber eyes opened, it was back. Closing around him, cutting off all the freedom, and peace he had held for less then a moment. Ripping away his moment of silence. With a strangled gasp, he step back into reality. A reality that cold not be changed, a reality that could not be escaped.
A reality that could be outrun, even if only for a moment.
This is what he was, this is what he was made. Something sickening, frightening, twisted beyond all recognition. He was a monster, who embraced chaos, and hated himself for loving it. Nothing could have spawned something such as him. Nothing.
With a sound resembling a sob, the figure huddled down on the bolder, and curled into a tight ball. Shivering as the wind caught up to him, forcing him to press further into the hard matt of stone.
It would be a matter of moments before the pain finally caught up to him. Till then he would remain here. He would be expected back later, He couldn't outrun the inevitable.
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