Pasts never Spoken 7
Emily was all clad in black a few days later. A midnight veil covered her face, and her body looked white with the black dress bound tightly around her. Jayden was glad for the veil, because all the life and fire had been lost from her hazels when he died. Losing Wesley was taking its toll on the team. But it had affected his baby sister the most.
She couldn't even cry anymore. All she did was stare up at the ceiling, her hazel moon eyes just staring lifelessly at space. Now the Samurai were headed to the funeral with heavy hearts. She lagged back, not looking up. When they reached the church, she twirled a ring around her finger as the preacher talked. One by one, the Samurai came up and talked about him. All of them, even Jayden, choked up.
When it was Emily's turn, she paused by his open coffin first. There he was, lifeless in the casket. She fully wished he'd open his eyes and be mad that everyone was staring at him. But he didn't, and that just seemed to kill her inside a little more. She walked up with lead feet to the podium and spoke.
"Wesley was the best big brother ever," he voice trembled, "he died saving me and the world. I wish I could have taken that hit. He never deserved to be killed so young or to try and protect the weak link. I miss him everyday."
Lowering her eyes, she trudged off into the garden. She watched through the mist as they lowered him into the ground, alone with tears on her red cheeks.
"It was never your fault," two arms wrapped around her.
"Yes it was," she blinked a tear free, "if I hadn't fallen, that Earth piece would have never hit and murdered him."
"You couldn't control it," he squeezed her hands gently, "he just wants you to be happy. That's why he died for you."
"Wesley, you ole' softly," she sighed, "but you're right." She put on a weak, basically invisible smile.
But it was a start.
The couple walked back to The Shiba House, the others waiting for them, already there. Emily changed and went for a walk, leaving a note. She laid in the sunlight, letting night creep around her. Darkness had been Wesley's element, and this just panged her heart. She closed her eyes, the cold air luring her to sleep.
She was woken up by something wet on her cheek. It was rain, and soon she was hiding away from it beneath a large tree. Sneezing, she curled into a wet ball. She knew nobody was around, but she didn't want to take off her clothes in the open like that. And what would she change into?
Suddenly, something silver cut across the night sky she was staring up into. Startled, she backed away, stumbling to her feet as a form pinned her to a tree. Warm, quick breaths hit her frozen cheeks as it shoved something into her arms.
"Change," a male's voice ordered, which belonged to the form.
"O-Okay," she slunk behind the trunk. She was shaking all over as she pulled on a large deer t-shirt and baggy jeans.
Who was this guy, and why did he order her? Was he a Nilock, preserving her life for a limited time? Or was this some wild guy with problems? She was debating on whether or not to run when something grabbed her shoulder. She gave a cry of pain as she was yanked to the ground by the figure.
"Come on," he demanded sharply, turning with his back to her and headed off to the north.
Gulping in fear, she followed him, knowing he would know if she ran. He'd probably kill her early if she made a break for it, anyway. They soon stopped, looking into the pitch blackness of a yawning cave. The figure grabbed her wrist painfully tight, and she was yanked off her feet as he dragged her inside. A fire was soon crackling, and she was ordered to sit by it. The warmth got her on the outside, but inside she felt like ice from fear.
When he moved close, the dim light lite up his face. It was older with wavy chocolate hair, slightly shaggy brown hair curving around his cunning dark hazel-blue eyes. His chest was bare, but the cold chill didn't seem to bother him. His skin was covered in bumps, scars, and bruises, which also didn't seem to annoy or worry him. He had a shaggy goatee, and his pants were large blue jeans, yanked around his waist with a leather belt. He was barefoot, and he studied her face.
"Sleep now," he rumbled.
"Who…" her voice was a squeak, "who are you?"
"You'll know soon," he bared his teeth like a wild animal, "now SLEEP!"
She curled into a tight ball. The strangest thing, though, was when he touched face for a brief moment. His touch and eyes on her…it was almost like she knew him…