Marissa watched the golden stain of light splash against the body of water. It shimmered, shaking as if from the artic cold, limbs unstable and horribly distorted, a pool of confusion. Warm streams of light and heat began to die at the back of her neck, trickling slowly away from her like a sifting, slow-set wave. Light winds caused currents to lightly tap at her ankles, the murky green waters freezing the rusty fingers of the gate faraway, black metal trembling at its presence. Breezes fingered her hair playfully, toying with it as if she didn't mind. The uncomfortable prickling of the cragged rock she sat on remain unchanged, thorny edges poking into her skin like knives of discipline. Her eyes were sadly cross, her one unclothed arm freezing in the dying afternoon.
Her eyes began to dye a certain orange in their azure innocence as they watched the restless golden light dance about before her, wanting to entertain her, wanting to turn her saddened feelings over like a frying pan did to a pancake. Hearing light, weak steps behind her, Marissa did not seem to notice. No, it was more like, she didn't want to notice. The steps neared, crunching grass into crooked fingers, pointing, accusing towards the never-working sound Minor. She didn't breathe. She didn't think. She didn't move. All she did was stare, and feel sad. That was all.
"You know, you didn't have to jump in front of me," Marissa muttered to pull the footsteps to a halt. A shadow fell over her and replaced the least comfy feeling of sunlight on her. Emptiness began to take place. The shadow was unmoving, unfeeling of her, blank, with no answer. Marissa continued her non-breathing, unthinking status. Her skin was beginning to get as cold as ice, hidden warmth beneath that blanket of frosty outer shell. However, she did not know of this warmth that so sneakily hid itself into secretion beneath her. So, she had nothing to look forward to.
"But," a voice right behind her began. She was somewhat surprised of the fact of how close the voice seemed to be, of how near the shadow was, the presence. "I wanted to," Rick's familiar voice explained. His voice seemed unsure, indecisive. Marissa felt like sighing, however, she had no air to exhale. "I felt obliged to. If anything happened to you, then -" Rick was suddenly cut off. It shocked him, causing him to somewhat back up.
"Then where does that leave me?" Marissa demanded loudly, as loudly as she meant it to be. Light breezes became tense ones, anxiously playing with her golden, brazen strands of hair, washing away their innocence more and more as the hands of the clock swayed impatiently past. Rick found himself speechless, voice lost. "What does that make me, huh?" she demanded once more, louder this time with further intention. Rick found himself even more speechless now, if possible. "A precious treasure that just needs to be watched after every second of my life? Am I an urn? Do I hold something of importance worth protecting?!"
"Marissa…" was all Rick could find in himself to say. Why was it so hard to speak?
"No…" Marissa stopped him right then and there. "What am I of use for? What do I provide all ready that makes me so worthwhile protecting?" she asked. Total, complete silence. She had her answer. "Nothing," she repeated the words of the gossiping winds. "Nothing at all. Nothing!" she had to say over and over again, louder and louder each time. The words seemed to seep into Rick's mind slowly and carefully, taking them all in as if they themselves were a fragile urn ready to break and fall apart any second. His goldenrod eyes began to broaden in realization. "The weeks and months we've been Minors…. Nothing!" she said once more. Marissa clenched her fist at the boulder's side. The stony edges scraped against her soft, delicate fingers. "What have I done to prove that I am strong; that I am worth something?"
Rick continued to stand, now even thoughtless. He swallowed hard, trying to gather up the thoughts closest inside him, searching for him, wanting to feel of what was really there. "Marissa… you know what you -" Once again, the blonde, unknowing boy was cut off.
"No!" she demanded. No eye contact had been made for a while, increasing tension into the air. "That was back then. This is now. Tell me, what have I done?" she demanded uproariously that even people miles away could hear. "What?!" The Lightning Minor swallowed hard. No words could help at this point. He was too late. All he could do now was listen, and listen, and pay attention, and take her words into consideration, or in other words…listen. "If things keep going like this, you'll just end up dying," Marissa said, lower this time. "…and I'll be the one left wishing that I had protected you from the start."
Rick thought hard, the best he could, in fact. Was what she was saying right? Had he, been all this time, blinded from the start? Confused thoughts were all around. It seemed to fill and deposit into the air, making banks very, very rich and wealthy. "I wish I can change that fact," Marissa went on, forcing her best friend to listen. "The truth is, I'm just too weak. I'm nothing special… just like our last opponent said." Rick didn't have to even look at Marissa's face, but he could tell that tears were beginning to stroll for her bluish eyes. They glimmered brightly and caught his attention, shimmering orange, elderly sunlight.
"Marissa," was the only thing Rick could find himself to sway. His sympathetic eyes wished for something more of his mouth, something more of his voice, the wind lightly filtering through his spiky blonde grass. He had always thought he was of great use, but now, finally figuring it out, by doing that, he had made others he held so dearly feel useless. So useless, in fact, that it was now worth tears.
"Just… leave me alone," Marissa begged through a cracking voice. "For now, just… just..." Marissa didn't even know how to end that sentence. More tears came down. Her cracking voice refused to repair. She sounded like an old witch now.
Rick nodded, and knew that she didn't know of his acknowledgment. But what could he do, really? All he could do, for now, just like she wished, was to go away. He sighed lightly as to not disturb Marissa or catch her acute sensitivity, and began to walk away. Now, for once, the crunching of grass seemed to fade farther away, instead of becoming louder and louder. Marissa, knowing he was leaving, continued to cry harder anyway, even though he was trying his best to complete her wishes. Both sides were left unsaid, both persons lost in a jumbled puzzle of their own jigsaw thoughts – and neither one cared to get themselves out of it, because both of them thought that they couldn't themselves.
From far away, Lance watched from the distance. He stood against the body of a tree, watching the same shimmering silhouette of gold on top of the lake, floating on it with the lowest density existing. His eyes were somewhat crinkled, hard to tell from face value if they were open or not. His long, silver hair fell at his sides, arms crossed tightly and defensively, anxiously almost. Through slit eyes, he watched the blonde, disappointed boy slump up the steep hill, leaving things he wanted to say but just couldn't behind. So, Lance thought, half sympathetically. I wasn't the only one feeling this way about her. But… if she has the power to change all that she had just said, she may not be a "loser" anymore like I had called her long ago. I'd take back those words if she changes.
Lance looked up at the orange clouds and tainted, purple skies. He breathed in a whisk of cool air, breathed it back out. Crinkled eyes seemed to half stare for a long time as he heard the crunching blades of green approach slowly and unsurely. Aside from all this, Lance began. It's getting dark. The week is almost over… the Metal Minor sighed in relief and tiredness. I can't wait to get back to painting, he thought in leisure.
PoVS
Trees wanted to whisper away ever so slightly and sneakily, rooted feet unable to move. Disappointed, their bodies remained still, yet their determined arms continued to reach out for the skies, the growing specks of stars, their dreams, their goals. They wanted to reach up and drag the clouds, drag them back in reverse, take the sun and grasp it, grasp it in their wasteful hands and reverse everything – reverse time, and by doing so, giving themselves more time to move, more time to try. Was that such a bad thing? To want to try?
The last bits and wisps of smoke cleared away, finally knowing that they were unwanted, unneeded by society and its people. Fuming with anger, they stormed out as fast as they could, hoping to become one with clouds one day and then, finally, being big and white, noticed by society. Teresa sat against a tree, comforting it with her presence, making it more worthwhile to be stuck in its monotony forever until its death. The violet-haired girl solemnly fingered ointment onto her wounded cheeks. Last drops of blood waved goodbye as they plummeted to the floor, unnoticed, starting its new journey. Now, knowing its new journey from face value of the unacknowledged, it wished to return to the wound, unable to reverse time as well, wanting to take the sun and pull it back, back, back.
The cool ointment was refreshing almost, tingly in fact, to her skin. It lifted her spirits up somewhat as she recapped the medicine and put it away. She continued to spread out the solution on her face. Wisps of purple hair seemed to tickle it now and then, like adult, cragged fingers tickling the abdominals of a newborn baby.
Barely feet away, Daniel brought his right hand to his tired places and wounds. His fingers were traced in a holy yellow, flustering themselves over and over against patches of skin. He felt the energy pour into him and felt the wounds and cuts disperse themselves back into normal tan. He seemed pleased. Kenneth sat away from Daniel and Teresa as well, sculpting with a rusty old, newfound knife a tiny sculpture of ice. He seemed pleased just like his two teammates. He couldn't help but force a crooked grin as the ice slowly came to life, the blue-haired boy giving it shoulders, legs, arms that were stiff at their sides. Oh, how great it was to create something from your own hands! Slivers of unneeded ice fell to the floor and began to melt to its doom. Leftover parts of the ice were happy to remain seated.
"It seems that I don't make myself lose years of my life when I heal my own wounds," Daniel noticed as he finished up "cleaning" the last cuts and slits throughout his body. He took in a deep breath, feeling the coolness wash in his lungs and give him a refreshing feeling. How great it was to have such a feeling now, now at the end of the week as the final day ended. The light hum and glow of his energy continued holily.
"Daniel…" Kenneth called out to his brother. His icy eyes kept on the tiny, tiny person of the ice sculpture. He quickly caught his attention. The humming and glowing stopped. "Thank you."
Daniel looked at his brother strangely, weirdly, as if suspecting him of another being, a traitor. "For saving me," Kenneth explained. The Life Minor's expression quickly changed, bringing his stare down to the floor, as if in shame. "I was lost in some frightened trance but you were the one that protected me while I was lost, isn't that right? You sure are amazing, brother," Kenneth complimented him with a sure smile that seemed to take up half his face.
"No," Daniel muttered solemnly. His eyes were still heavy against the ground. It was Kenneth's turn to make a confused expression. Teresa's attention was caught, looking up from her place on the tree in a weird expression. Kenneth shared the same one. "I may have blocked a few attacks, but I can never have defeated the enemy myself," Daniel explained. His glasses seemed to slump down on the slope of his nose. "I was too…" Everyone waited for the last bit of the sentence. Their expressions became sympathetic, wondrous, in fact. Daniel completed the sentence in his thoughts. He seemed too humiliated at the fact of the last word. I promised Shintenmaru as well as myself that I would never feel that way again. "Teresa was the real one who destroyed the opponent, not me."
"But… you still…" Kenneth wanted to hand his brother some credit.
"No!" Daniel denied, refusing even the tiniest sliver of praise. "It was Teresa! I did nothing!" the Life Minor demanded once more.
"No," Teresa interrupted. Daniel looked up. His glasses seemed to jump up frantically. Kenneth looked up as well, and the two siblings found Teresa's solemn stare, hers as well as on the ground now. She replaced Daniel's motion so he didn't have to do it any longer. Everyone except her thought the same thing. What did she mean? "If it weren't for you, I would have never realized… just how great bonds with other people are." She seemed into increase in solemnity. This was a time of great realization. Winds whispered in gossip to the press, director trees cried at their masterpiece moment. Silence filled the air; soft, delicate winds carried fallen leaves back up, a ladder of hope.
Why does everything seem so tense? Daniel asked himself, gulping hard. It was even hard to swallow now. Amazing was this.
PoVS
"We'll leave when the moon rises," Hanabikai instructed. He got up to his feet and stared at the dying, withering sun. Half of its body remained, crying out to the horizon at the other end, desperately telling it to wait, wait for its return, then it will finally come and meet it once more with much, much more stories to tell.
"Yeah," Eric agreed, standing up the same way as Hanabikai. They both watched the sun seep down below, examining it, observing it, absorbing it as if it were their only source of energy. They had the straightest backs, proud of whom they were, proud of what they could do, yet sad of the past, but willing to take and change everything. The orange death spilt on their faces like sad tears unshed.
"Really, I can't believe I couldn't do anything in the last fight. I'm really sorry," Mark began to insist, sitting comfortably on the ground with his legs crossed leisurely. His expression was a mix of worry and pleading for forgiveness.
"It's okay," Eric chuckled. He turned his head to meet gazes with Mark. The Earth Minor suddenly felt all the more comfortable. "You can make it up later," he joked. Mark somewhat frowned, but that frown turned inside out later. Walter sat by the three of them, cross-legged just like Mark, but keeping to himself, eyes cross and narrow, mean. He peered past the metal gates that took in what little sunlight it could left. He stared off into the road away, and thought, thought hard, too.
Now that the week is over, what comes from beyond the horizon? He thought insightfully. What does the rising moon hold for me? Suddenly, he thought of Eric. He thought of Eric's words and the promises and purposes he made, he had sworn to follow. Then, Walter imaged his aunt, his uncle, and other shaded people in the background, smiling their crescents of deviance, eyes crinkled in pleasure of torture. Hate fell into the picture as Walter felt it build up inside him just by imaging the two demons. How I detest those two and the rest of whom they work for, god damn it! Walter thought in grudge.
Once again, a sign of his hate and goal, his astral inner self appeared in his images, whispering into its body form with its green, constantly flowing energy. Emerald wisps and shoulders blocked half of the outlined face. The eyes stared past the jade shoulders, bold and green and daring, accusing, deadly. Hateful brows crinkled and narrowed, slanted in a prepared grudge and action. Wisps of astral green faded from tickling hair against air. The green energy seemed to hiss, and this time, the inner self said nothing. Its stair did all the talking. Walter suddenly twitched in hate. A hand was subconsciously brought over his heart, as if he were about to perform a pledge. His teeth grit and ground tightly, hatefully, detestation filling his cavities, churning his molars, sharpening his fangs. Damn it…! he thought from immense emotion.
Then, the Water Minor noticed Eric, who continued to stare at the sun with his Council Counterpart. He has his own goals as well, Walter thought as he set his gaze long on the character, which did not seem to notice his stare. Teeth continued to grind. Cool wind brushed hair and flustered it into unorganized manners. I see.
PoVS
The eight remaining councils gathered in the dark, roomy realm of the Inner World, watching their once beloved find go into further despair, lost forever in a sea of forgotten memories. Darkness piled against darkness inside, and rusty, cylindrical metal barred against absent prisoners, only one to watch over. They stared with cross eyes, their presences hidden, their bodies disappeared. "Can you believe that he's been like this for the past seven days?" a council's voice spoke, unnoticed. Its voice echoed through the hallway inside the room. What a strange thing to have in a room, wouldn't you rather think?
"At least he's calmed down," a voice answered. Darkness echoed.
"Yes," a new voice entered as well. "However, he can start his outburst any time, and anywhere once again. It seems that he's gotten some control over the past few days, however his eyes remain dark and coal-like as ever. We must keep on watch out and make sure he does not go overboard."
"On top of that he is only ten years of age. His mind is naturally unstable right now. He is vulnerable to any type of thing, especially that – that thing inside him. We must approach with caution."
"Yes," agreement went all around. Eyes nodded in acknowledgment.
"We may have to get them once more for assistance. Do you guys agree?" a new, different voice echoed. Indifference and uncertainty went around the wide, longest room. Indecisiveness was the only emotion now.
"Yes…" a final decision was made. "It should be about time we asked for their help once more."
"We should be expecting the Minors soon from the Swamp of Mystery," a fresh voice started. Walls echoed everywhere, confusion filled the air. "Minoa, Hanabikai, Madasora, and Raikettei formed a team to retrieve them."
"Yeah." Agreement once more went all around in the eternal darkness. Heavy breathing was the only sound Jeremy gave in his imprisonment. Growls every now and then of hate, anger, detestation? No one knew. Just why did he go so crazy all of a sudden? What was he hiding? If he even knew that he was hiding such a thing?