of life and death

Subject: of life and death Wed Dec 03, 2008 6:37 pm

Sun dappled the earth below in bright patches that the green twilight couldn’t diminish, bird calls in the distance echoing softly beneath the canopy. Peace. Serenity reigned supreme in this place, the ground below hugged in a blanket of quiet complacency. Yet far above, nestled in those sturdy boughs there dwelled a controlled chaos.

Humanity. Humans dwelled far above the forest floor, houses built upon the thick limbs and about the wide trunks like flowers. Bridges spanned the distance between trees like vines, connecting each home and life within in a communal whole.

And in that chattering hive she hid. Shadows clung to the small figure as it hunkered behind one of the numerous rain barrels, tiny fingers gripping the side firmly to support the odd angle in which she leaned. Dark eyes flickered with mischief as legs flashed past, a moment of tensed waiting and she bolted forth. Small arms were flung wide to clutch the nearest leg that had the misfortune of not moving fast enough, causing the body to which it was attached to falter a moment.

The small head would tilt back, lips pulled into a grin of joy despite the spot of sunlight that obscured the target’s face. Suddenly arms descended to clasp the girl under the arms and heave her up and into the air. This brought forth an ear splitting squeal of pleasure before the slight body was tucked against the figure’s side. One cherubic cheek was rubbed against the bristle of that face no longer in shadow, the warm brown eyes watching her with suppressed happiness.

“And what has my little shadeling been up to lately that has her leaping from shadows like a tree cat?” The voice was rich and melodious, deep enough to immerse oneself in completely. Strong fingers would lift to brush a few rebellious locks from the girl’s face before tweaking her nose lightly. He was a large man, broad shoulders suggesting a laborer in occupation though the keen intellect in those earth toned orbs made it clear he was no simpleton. Dark chestnut hair fell to those shoulders, tied together with a leather thong and keeping it from that open face.

Laughter burbled forth before the child actually responded. “I was bored 'cause Belial wouldn’t let me go play with him and his friends, even though I said I wouldn’t be in the way…he’s so mean to me!” The words were soft and plaintive, the slight of her older brother seeming like the end of the word in a child’s mind. A hand lifted to scrub across those dark eyes before resting on her father’s shoulder, the head followed swiftly after.

Her father made a rumbling chuckle, holding her close a moment before moving across the tree limb, the distant house the initial destination before the minor leg tackling incident. “Now Zillah you know how Belial is, he thinks he’s too old to hang around with you. Maybe you can let him spend time with his friends for a while, I’m sure he’ll play with you later.”

This suggestion elicited a small frown from the girl, “but it’s not fair!” But the protest was cut short as the bridge swaying beneath caught her attention. Pulling away slightly the slim shoulders would lean to gaze at the earth far below. There was no fear, for children of the trees were taught from birth how to navigate the canopy with ease. Rarely were there deaths by falling.

Movement ceased as father and daughter entered the airy tree house, light filling the main room where upper branches had been removed to allow illumination of the interior. At the sound of scuffing feet a small woman would turn, grey blue eyes flashing at the sight of them. Thick locks swirled about the plain but pretty face, light catching on the ash brown and giving it depth, as slim hands were placed lightly upon her waist. “So that’s where my wayward youngling is,” the words flowed honey smooth from plump lips, yet despite the attempt to appear severe the expression was ruined. Her mother never had been good at acting angry.

Another rumbling chuckle escaped as the girl was tossed over one shoulder. “Youngling? What youngling? My dearest Liv there is only myself and this oddly wiggly sack of potatoes.” And with that he would dip to place a kiss on the woman’s cheek, passing off the giggling bundle in one easy motion.

The transfer was a much practiced occurrence and the small hands were soon buried in the shining hair. “Daddy I’m not a sack of potatoes! “ Dark eyes moved to her mother, awaiting the much used response.

Hefting the child Liv would smile lightly, “oh but my darling Kennard, whatever shall we do with this youngling of ours? She’s as wild as a tree cat and just as quiet. Maybe we should give her to them, a fine cub she’d make any mother cat”

More happy squeals would spill forth causing the woman’s head to tilt back, laughing. Routine finished the girl was set down and allowed to scamper off as the couple embraced finally. “Whatever have we done to deserve such children,” Kennard grumbled happily as his wife rest lightly to his chest. “The god’s must favor us.”

***

Dark. Night had fallen upon the tree top settlement, blanketing those who dwelled within it in heavy slumber. Yet for all sleep was not well received and even as the moon rose high and full a scream echoed through that small house on the edge of the village.

Candle light bloomed into life beside the small bed, placed gently to the table so that strong arms might cradle the panicked girl to the muscled chest. “Shh…it’s alright my shadeling. Don’t fear the dark, I’m here. I’ll always be here for you…” and under the soothing magic of that voice the last of the nightmare was eased.

Dark, damp eyes were lifted to take in the peaceful features of her father, the gentle rumble easing her back into dreams as the last of the night terrors fled.

Easing the child back, covers tugged to her chin and a gentle kiss placed on the forehead, Kennard would slide from the small room. A puff of breath sent the candle guttering before sliding in beside Liv, the brief disturbance in the night repaired.

Yet even as slumber was returned to things prowled were they shouldn’t have been. Death stalked along the village on velvet paws seeking blood.

***

Dawn approached, the same as any other morning, and the faint rustling of life began in that little house. As the children slept the parent began the daily routine of rising and dressing before moving toward the kitchen to ready breakfast for the voracious beings that would rise all too soon.

Soft words would filter from the room and light upon those round ears that flicked back and forth. Blood shot golden eyes were riveted to the thin curtain that separated the cat from the pair that moved along in blissful ignorance. Slinking closer the crazed tree cat would freeze, readying the pounce that would end the prey that lurked just out of sight. A breeze of passage rippled the cloth, the signal it had waited for. Coiled muscles released sending the large feline hurtling toward the closest target, paws wide to wrap around and entrap.

Claws sank blissfully into soft flesh, the stimulating scent of blood filling its nostrils and driving the already crazed beast further into madness. Jaws opened wide to snap around its target’s neck but a shriek of fear and rage brought the snarling muzzle around sharply. The woman didn’t have a chance to fight back before the cat leapt and fangs sank into the tender flesh of her throat, changing the scream to a wet hiss. The mouthful of meat that it had managed to rend from the female was swallowed, head dipping down for the next.

Dark eyes watched from the shadows as the cat moved to feast upon what had been her mother even as the blooded form of her father sought to close with the cat, kitchen knife in hand. Fear and horror froze muscles and choked off sound, leaving her with nothing to do but watch the scene unfold before her in all its grisly terror.

The cat shrieked in pain and rage as the knife was slammed into its side, the deafening sound faltering and fading into a wheezing burble. A lung had been punctured, blood already seeking to fill the void that had been created by a lucky strike. But death did not claim the beast before its claws were raked through the weakened man, but finally it would fall and move no more.

Hours seemed to pass before the girl moved, though the sun as barely peeking above the horizon, trembling to the form of her father. He was propped up in a sitting position against one wall, his wife’s head resting on one thigh as the corresponding hand stroked the blood matted hair. Hesitantly she’d near the gruesome scene, eyes as wide as possible. No tears threatened, shock still held them at bay. The remaining few feet were made at a run and despite the flow of blood from his wounds she would clamber into his lap, small hands clutching at the tatters of his shirt.

Pain fogged eyes fell to the child and out of relief for her safety the corner of his lips would quirk into a smile. It didn’t last long but it didn’t need to. The hand not resting on his wife would lift to curl protectively about the trembling shoulders, words rumbling forth in agonized exhaustion, “my shadeling, be strong for me? I don’t want to see any tears in those beautiful eyes, you hear me? Just remember I will always be with you. Always.”

Subject: Re: of life and death Wed Dec 03, 2008 6:40 pm

Large eyes blinked rapidly to keep the moisture that threatened to fall at bay, the back of one small hand scrubbing against her nose. “I’ll be strong. I promise…” the words were small and quavering but already they held strength no child that age should have. Resolve squared those slight shoulders, jaw set stubbornly. Even as the light left her father’s eyes no tears fell, she wouldn’t allow it even as the other villagers gathered round.

The mask had formed the first layer that would hide away the emotions that threatened to spill forth. She would be strong, had to be.

***

Time passed, slow and uneventful for the most part, and before anyone knew it months had passed since the death of her parents. Yet still the girl never seemed to mourn their passing, remaining in placid silence as the days seeped away like water through a crack. This lack of emotion disturbed many of the villagers but none so much as her older brother.

Jaws clenched tightly as he watched her, simply sitting there in the higher branches looking over the canopy. Resentment hung heavy, clouding thoughts and emotions. How dare a simple four year old act so casual about their parent’s demise while he suffered so. Even worse was how the other villagers coddled her, bowing to every sniveling whim because they pitied her while at the same time looking at him with aggrieved humor. As if his mourning was over done! The gall of her to look at him with those empty eyes, the shape and color so like their father’s, after all he had done to take care of her. Ingrate. Leech. Parasite.

Oh what he wouldn’t do to be rid of the little wretch, to no longer suffer under that cold scrutiny. Wheels began to turn in that hate filled mind, gears clicking into motion along a path one would never suspect a sibling to follow. There was a way, a way to dump the little brat where no one would find her. It would be as if she’d died that day too.

***

“Do you have the money?” The voice practically oozed from the deep recesses of the hood, the darkness beneath concealing the face from which it issued.

Belial shifted uneasily, broad hands wringing together. The words would come out breathy, “no, but I have something else, something worth just as much”

The expression wasn’t visible but the gaze was so intense as to be palpable. “And what do you offer to pay off your debt?”

Jaw muscles clenched moment before a hand snapped behind the closest tree, the small and rather battered girl yanked into view of the hooded being. Roughly Belial would shove his sister foreword, no regard or compassion for her well being.

Zillah stumbled, bare feet catching on an upraised root sending the poor girl sprawling on her face painfully. Suddenly hands jerked her upright, tugging aside her clothes until she stood there naked and shivering. Moon light filtered through the leaves highlighting the pale complexion and flashing off the brunette locks. Dark eyes lifted to watch the figure intently, no fear showing despite the seriousness of her situation.

Cold appraisal traveled from head to toe and finally the feeling of detached approval. “She is acceptable; your debt is now paid.” And with that the girl was gripped tightly about the waist and wrenched from the ground.

As she was being taken a small hand would dart toward Belial, fingers closing firmly about the white bone handle of the curved blade at his belt. The force of her removal made the acquisition of the knife simple and gave no chance for it to be reclaimed.

***

Smooth steps moved Zillah and her unknown assailant through the dark forest and deep into the night. Time and distance seemed to flow past in a dizzying blurry. As quickly as the abduction began it halted, at least for a time, with the supporting arm about her releasing suddenly. Gravity took over quickly, drawing the girl to the earth with a heavy thump.

Still clutching the odd curved blade the girl would glare coldly at the cloaked being but despite the circumstances there was no anger or hate to be found, simply icy consideration. The wind chose that moment to pick up and trail cool fingers across the bare skin and call forth involuntary shivering.

More silent assessment on both parts and then she would receive the first shock of the night. As the tremors continued to wrack the thin body the dark cloak was flourished and dropped over her shoulders, encasing her in inky warmth. The cloying hood was pushed off to allow her to finally view her captor and give her the next shock.

He was, in a word, beautiful. Thick golden locks were pulled back into a simple tail that was allowed to trail down his back, star light catching and reflecting in what seemed a halo. Electric blue eyes blazed from that angelic face, catching on her’s almost ferociously. Shapely lips pulled into a smile even if the expression didn’t reach his eyes. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m not going to hurt you,” lids fell half closed over those searing orbs, “that is unless you behave stupidly.” The threat was practically gentle but very real.

A normal four year old would have been cowering in terror yet that one simply viewed him with mild detachment. “What are you going to do with me then?”

Another comely smile was given. “My, aren’t you just a surprise all around. “ Long, slender fingers would grip her chin, tilting it upward toward his. “What do they call you girl?”

“Zillah,” the word was rather sharp. She didn’t outright dislike him, but given the situation she was less than forth coming with information. Remaining still in that grasp she’d focus on those bright oculars; they were quite mesmerizing.

The lanky form would bend, one knee dropping to the earth before her, bringing them eye to eye. “I am Vidar, but you can call me Dusk.” His face loomed dangerously close to her own till she could feel the warm breath on her cheek. “You will do as you are told, or you will pay. Do you understand?”

Lips were wet, allowing her a brief moment before responding. “Yes, as long as I can keep this,” the blade was lifted for his inspection.

Laughter, dark but obviously amused, spilled from those lips while that face drew even closer. “As you say my little Shade.” And with that a kiss would be placed upon her forehead, almost lovingly.

***

Time passed, years flowing by like the river to the sea, and with it the girl grew. Growing up in the academy, if such a place could hold that title, shaping her through each trail into the woman she would one day become. Many children began each ‘semester’ yet at the completion only a handful remained; those unlucky who failed never lived long enough to regret it. Infighting was common, each child looking out for their own well being even to the extent of killing those who were the greatest threat and in the end only the best were left standing. Compassion and trust had no place there and each day her mask grew thicker.

***

Smooth grey fabric pressed to her face as the scarf was expertly wrapped so that only those dark eyes were left exposed. From that scarf to the kidskin boots each stitch of clothing was simple cotton or rough silk dyed in various shades of grey, the end resulting in her appearing to be a deeper part of the shadows. A gloved hand would lift a moment to tug the fabric away from her face, revealing the faint frown beneath.

“I don’t need you for this job, I’m not a child any longer,” but despite the smooth tone she felt nothing more than a petulant youngling pretending to be grown.

The quirk of Vidar’s lips showed he felt much the same though he had enough self control to remain silent on that point. “That may be but I’m still going with you. Can’t have my little Shade getting herself into trouble now can I?”

Suppressing the much aggrieved sigh she would tug the scarf back into place, recheck the placement of each blade and place a hooded grey cloak over the entire ensemble. The flowing gait that was adopted created the illusion of a ghost whisking silently over the ground, a darker shadow flowing in its wake. They were well matched in so many ways.

***

Subject: Re: of life and death Wed Dec 03, 2008 6:40 pm

It bloomed crimson under the cold gleam of steel, welling and over flowing to drip upon the mattress below. Sliding the blade free allowed the blood to flood from the opening, draining the gurgling man of his life force in moments. Wiping the knife clean; only the soft hiss of metal against leather as it was slid home could be heard. Twin shadows moved and converged a few feet off, the larger pressing against the other, near the nearest wall.

He held her there, her back to the wall and arms pinned at her sides with his body. Breath caught in her throat refusing to continue it’s habitual in and out motion, hearth thumping loudly. Hands were lifted to flick her hood back, strong fingers tugging the scarf free.

Slowly he leaned in, what little light there was glinting off those vivid blue eyes. Something lurked in that normally obscure gaze and it left her feeling a bit weak in the knees. “All these years I’ve watched you,” the words were soft, not a whisper since those caught more attention than the fain murmur of words he spoke. “And until now I’ve been able to restrain myself.” One hand cupped her cheek lightly, the other snaking beneath the folds of her cloak to rest at her waist.

No words escaped, the shock of his touch keeping her still. There had been no indication in all that time that he harbored any feelings toward her other than mild curiosity and possibly amusement. Never would she have guessed this would happen. Lips parted yet speech faltered under that gaze.

Taking advantage of the paralysis that had swept her form his face would slide closer, slow and yet all too quickly. Lips brushed against hers; lightly after first, almost hesitantly, before more force was added. The hand at her cheek slide until it held the back of her head, fingers twining in the tight coil of dark locks.

She didn’t resist, couldn’t, nor did she really want to. Arms lifted to coil about his neck pulling her away from the wall and further into that embrace. The first tugs of longing rippled through her body making her dare to slide her tongue past his lips and into his mouth. The action was well received and reciprocated as his caressed over hers while at the same time the hand at her waist moved to cup her rear.

Finally he pulled back, breath actually coming in ragged pants. “You have become quite a woman my little Shade.” Another deep kiss, “Zillah.”

It was apparent he would have taken her then and there, and she would have complied readily, but common sense overruled. Stepping away allowed them both to regain the lost composure, hoods to be drawn forward, and an exit to be made.

***

Dawn approached, bright and warm even under the canopy of the forest; golden light spreading over the pair that slept curled about each other. Dark tresses mixed with light, arms and legs entwined so that it was difficult to tell where one began and the other ended. Faint stirrings announced the rise from slumber even as lids slid upwards, practically simultaneously.

The soft, pleased mur rumbled from his throat and through her body calling forth a satisfied groan from her. “You really are something,” his words seemed to hold a faint tinge of awe, as if the notion were slightly unsettling to the mind.

Slim fingers traced across his stomach, the sharp intake of breath at the sensation causing the corners of her mouth to quirk upward. “I had a good teacher,” the words were spoken softly against the sensitive skin at his throat before teeth grazed lightly.

Disentangling his limbs from hers Vidar stood and slowly pulled on the previously forgotten clothing, watching as she followed suit. Shirt held loosely in one hand he’d simply watch for a moment, marveling at the play of light over her skin and hair. Something flickered through those electric blue eyes, dark and ominous.

Straightening up dark brown orbs would meet azure, a brow quirking enquiringly. “See something you like?” The smile couldn’t be suppressed even as silent steps brought them close once more. Thin arms would rise to wrap about the narrow waist, forehead resting to his chest. “Who would have thought you’d be the best thing to happen to me”

A pained expression would flash at the top of her head, missed completely due to her face being buried. Perhaps it was for the best that she didn’t know, for it might have darkened that glorious mood.

***

Blood flowed hot and thick over the sharp steel blade, seeping into the dirt and staining once opulent garments. The hovering shadow flowed away silently a moment later, disappearing back into the night once more.

Miles and hours later would find her crouched beside a small stream, finger tips trailing in the cool water lightly. Hood up, head down, there would be no indication she noted his appearance behind her, nor that it pleased her greatly, until the words rippled forth. “Still worrying about me after all this time?”

Silence, for a time, no move made to close the remaining foot between them. “I will always worry about you.” But something almost sad tinged the words.

Catching the odd tone she’d stand, gloved hands shoving back the hood and tugging the concealing scarf off to reveal her face. Brows furrowed, lips curved into a frown, Zillah would face him. “What is it?” Dread coiled in her gut, laying cold and heavy.

His hand would lift, reaching out toward one of those slender shoulders. “My Shade…” teeth captured his bottom lip, a rare moment of weakness shown. The hand fell lightly on her right shoulder, fingers squeezing before pulling the unresisting woman closer. As the distance was lessened moon light would catch on the odd curved blade that she had stolen so long ago, the white bone hilt adding to the rather ghastly sight of the knife. Lines of pain etched across his face even as the sharp edge sliced through cloth and flesh, dangerously close to her heart. “I’m sorry…”

Realization dawned too late, the wicked edge separating muscle easily and allowed blood to well up. Pain followed a moment later and sizzled across nerves. Her brain had shut down at his attack, the very idea he’d betray her sending her into a type of shock that had never been felt. Luckily reflexes took over where thought failed; her left hand gripped his right wrist as her right moved, blade in hand, swiftly toward his neck. Disbelief and anguish washed through her entire body, the whole horrid scene slowing to a crawl even as her knife settled heavily into the side of his neck.

Fingers tightened about the hilt of the curved blade, tendons pressing into her fingers, before falling limp. The light of life slowly began fading from those bright blue orbs even as blood flowed freely. Knees were weak, giving way, gravity tugging at the larger form until she was forced to let go or be taken down as well.

Blade still lodged in her chest for the time being she couldn’t help sinking to her knees beside him. Tears were already cutting tracks down her cheeks, dripping from her chin and onto his chest. “Why? Vidar, why?”

He wouldn’t meet that penetrating, entreating, gaze. Coughs were wracking that perfect body, blood flecking those beautiful lips. Only minutes remained as life continued to ooze from the neck would around the buried blade. Finally he’d speak, the words soft and breathy, “for the money.” He wouldn’t, no couldn’t, tell her the truth; it would be better for her to hate him forever than mourn his death. No, he’d take that secret to his grave.

With a half strangled snarl of pain the knife was ripped from his neck, leaving the gaping wound bleeding even more freely. A few more breaths before the final exhalation, those once striking blue eyes turning dull. He was gone. Wiping the blade clean on that familiar black cloak only the soft snick as if returned to its sheath would betray her movements. Rising heavily, hand holding the curved blade steady in her chest the grisly scene would be left behind, swallowed by the night even as the darkness in her mind rose to blanket the damaged psyche. Now was not the time to mourn or reflect, now was the time to heal and move on. She’d done it before, it could be done again.

Yet unbidden came the welling moisture. But for whom did they fall? For the one who lay upon the earth or the one left to pick up the pieces?

***