JadeStorm
06-24-07, 08:23 PM
Solo
Six Days
Eremophobia
Sun Zu Shang (http://www.althanas.com/world/showpost.php?p=69977&postcount=1)
Aiden Darkstorm (http://www.althanas.com/world/showpost.php?p=69393&postcount=1)
"Eremophobia-
The Fear of being oneself,
Or the fear of being alone.”
She sat beneath the starless night sky, bruised clouds alluding to the rainfall that was to come, sooner or later. The air was thick, humid. Suffocating warmth pressed against her from all sides as she gazed up at the broiling vista that stretched away to the tree line further down the hill. That distant copse had been her goal for the night, but now seemed unreachable, as it faded away into the horizon.
Blood soiled the grass at her side, and her ribs ached with a dull throbbing pain that spoke of her condition even through the numb tingling that had been spreading out across her paling flesh. She had tried to ignore the growing feeling of weakness and forget the worry that gnawed now at her from the dark corners of her repressed consciousness. She had fought back her fears, had determined that she would stay alive despite the ghastly wound that left scarlet rivulets snaking down her smooth side. The strap of torn cloth she had tied around herself seemed to be loosening, but she knew better than to untying it as a precursor to attempting to retie it. She tried to deny it, even to herself, but she could hardly move her left arm now. It hung limp and useless at her side, palm pointing toward the sky as it lay on the ground. She couldn’t feel the grass that certainly rubbed against the back of her hand. The faint bluish cast to the skin of her arm worried her immensely, and caused her eyebrows to draw down in a apprehensive scowl.
Blood trickled slowly from the wound at her side, and she could see a glint of white beyond the turned up jags of torn flesh. The daunting injury didn’t scare her as it would have so many months ago. She had been inured to the fear of physical anguish. Blood had become an old friend, mischievous, returning to greet her when she least expected it. Fear? Why fear an inevitable? All it did was waste energy. Energy she needed to stave off the pain and regret that had continually assailed her these last hours.
A gust of wind blew from behind her, sweeping her jaw length reddish pink hair forward. The grassy plain that sloped down and away in front of her swelled and shimmered with the wind-directed movement, and the distant trees fluttered in tandem. The breeze faded, failed. Stillness rushed to fill the gap, and in that empty silence, Sun could feel a foreboding that made her cringe in anxiety.
She still wasn’t sure how she had lived. She was experienced enough to know that the arrow that had penetrated her ribs had been a man-killer. The arrowhead had been cast from rigid crystal, strong enough to cut skin, but too weak to withstand contact with her the bones of her ribs. Such an arrow was commonly called a Shatterhead. She had used them before. But when she used them, her target went down and stayed down. How she had survived the crystalline fragments bursting in her ribs, she couldn’t fathom. The archer that had put the arrow in her knew what he had been doing; the shot had been precise beyond imagining. She hadn’t even known there was another life form near, before the arrow had found its way into her.
Overhead, the clouds began to release their burden. It started slowly, sounding of paper rubbing together softly. The first drops to hit Sun’s skin made her gasp in surprise. Occupied as she was with her fearful thoughts, she had not anticipated the touch of those cold droplets. After the initial shock had faded, she turned her jaw up, exposing her pale face to the calming, cleansing rain. Without warning, the pain of the wound in her side flared up. Her tears of agony were quickly washed away amid the rivulets of rain.
The soft pattering of the raindrops hitting her jadeite armor kept her lucid, if only slightly. The fog of pain tried to lure her into a sleep that she desperately needed, but she refused its alluring supplication. What need had she of sleep? The dead had all the sleep they could ever need. She could sleep when she was dead. She had no intention of dying yet.
Her memory had begun to cloud, but she remembered the village her trek had started at. It wasn’t far now, and if she could make it there, she would be safe, and would be able to seek Sister Alise’s help. She wasn’t sure if the woman would be able to heal so severe a wound, but if she made it back at all, she could at least die in comfort if she couldn’t be healed.
Gritting her teeth, Sun Zu Shang leaned to her right side, and used her good arm to push herself to her feet. Slightly disheartened by the way her left arm hung limp and swayed lightly as she regained her footing, the Ranger looked off down the slope awaiting her. It would have been tricky to navigate without falling. Now, with the rain turning dirt to slippery mud, it would be a death trap. In response to her own unspoken question, she shook her head. Her hair fanned, spraying a few droplets from the soaked chestnut locks. She couldn’t afford to wait. Every second she squandered now was a dance with death, and with every passing second, her steps grew more clumsy. Weighed against the ever-graceful movements of Death, she couldn’t hope to out dance him. Her only hope now was to outrun him.
She started down the slope.
Seconds turned to minutes, minutes to hours, as she carefully picked her way down the declivity. Several times already she’d had to frantically snatch out at nearby rocks or shrubs in an attempt to stabilize herself after her boot had turned up a patch of grass, only to find a perilously slick track of mud beneath. With her left arm all but dead, it was a mix of extreme effort and pure luck that kept her from losing her balance and tumbling away down the muddy hill.
A glimpse of white beside her tore her eyes away from the ground under her hands and feet. For several moments, all Sun could do was blink in astonishment. The sky lit with a sharp jag of lightning, and thunder rumbled through the sloped clearing, rumbled in her chest and ribs. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing, despite the unquestionable reality. The young girl that stood beside her couldn’t have been an illusion; she was far too real to have been imagined.
Although she only would have stood as high as Sun’s waist on solid ground, she was on a level that left her eye to eye with the Ranger. The young girls icy, sapphire eyes locked Sun’s rich bistre gaze. It was an electrifying connection, holding her like a prison. In her peripheral vision, she took in all of the details of this little girl. A pure white dress covered her slim, short body. Unadorned by useless ornaments, and unsullied by the rain that continually lashed down on Sun, the dress was certainly the most elegant garment she had ever seen, and made the Ranger feel ungainly in her masterfully crafted jadeite armor. Blonde hair ran down the girls neck and shoulders, twisting around itself in enviable, curly locks, and framed her soft, delicate face. Even so young, the girl couldn’t be described with any word short of beautiful. Silhouetted by the forking lightning, and the barely visible streaks of pouring rain, the girl exuded an air of confidence and compassion that seemed so bizarre it was nearly alien.
“You’re hurt, Sun.” The girl said, her tiny voice filled with concern. “Come with me.”
Instinctively, reflexively, Sun took a step backwards.
Confusion.
The landscape spun, the ground throttled her, smashing into her from all sides as she descended. Her wound flared in agony, and her vision blotted out in a black flash.
Six Days
Eremophobia
Sun Zu Shang (http://www.althanas.com/world/showpost.php?p=69977&postcount=1)
Aiden Darkstorm (http://www.althanas.com/world/showpost.php?p=69393&postcount=1)
"Eremophobia-
The Fear of being oneself,
Or the fear of being alone.”
She sat beneath the starless night sky, bruised clouds alluding to the rainfall that was to come, sooner or later. The air was thick, humid. Suffocating warmth pressed against her from all sides as she gazed up at the broiling vista that stretched away to the tree line further down the hill. That distant copse had been her goal for the night, but now seemed unreachable, as it faded away into the horizon.
Blood soiled the grass at her side, and her ribs ached with a dull throbbing pain that spoke of her condition even through the numb tingling that had been spreading out across her paling flesh. She had tried to ignore the growing feeling of weakness and forget the worry that gnawed now at her from the dark corners of her repressed consciousness. She had fought back her fears, had determined that she would stay alive despite the ghastly wound that left scarlet rivulets snaking down her smooth side. The strap of torn cloth she had tied around herself seemed to be loosening, but she knew better than to untying it as a precursor to attempting to retie it. She tried to deny it, even to herself, but she could hardly move her left arm now. It hung limp and useless at her side, palm pointing toward the sky as it lay on the ground. She couldn’t feel the grass that certainly rubbed against the back of her hand. The faint bluish cast to the skin of her arm worried her immensely, and caused her eyebrows to draw down in a apprehensive scowl.
Blood trickled slowly from the wound at her side, and she could see a glint of white beyond the turned up jags of torn flesh. The daunting injury didn’t scare her as it would have so many months ago. She had been inured to the fear of physical anguish. Blood had become an old friend, mischievous, returning to greet her when she least expected it. Fear? Why fear an inevitable? All it did was waste energy. Energy she needed to stave off the pain and regret that had continually assailed her these last hours.
A gust of wind blew from behind her, sweeping her jaw length reddish pink hair forward. The grassy plain that sloped down and away in front of her swelled and shimmered with the wind-directed movement, and the distant trees fluttered in tandem. The breeze faded, failed. Stillness rushed to fill the gap, and in that empty silence, Sun could feel a foreboding that made her cringe in anxiety.
She still wasn’t sure how she had lived. She was experienced enough to know that the arrow that had penetrated her ribs had been a man-killer. The arrowhead had been cast from rigid crystal, strong enough to cut skin, but too weak to withstand contact with her the bones of her ribs. Such an arrow was commonly called a Shatterhead. She had used them before. But when she used them, her target went down and stayed down. How she had survived the crystalline fragments bursting in her ribs, she couldn’t fathom. The archer that had put the arrow in her knew what he had been doing; the shot had been precise beyond imagining. She hadn’t even known there was another life form near, before the arrow had found its way into her.
Overhead, the clouds began to release their burden. It started slowly, sounding of paper rubbing together softly. The first drops to hit Sun’s skin made her gasp in surprise. Occupied as she was with her fearful thoughts, she had not anticipated the touch of those cold droplets. After the initial shock had faded, she turned her jaw up, exposing her pale face to the calming, cleansing rain. Without warning, the pain of the wound in her side flared up. Her tears of agony were quickly washed away amid the rivulets of rain.
The soft pattering of the raindrops hitting her jadeite armor kept her lucid, if only slightly. The fog of pain tried to lure her into a sleep that she desperately needed, but she refused its alluring supplication. What need had she of sleep? The dead had all the sleep they could ever need. She could sleep when she was dead. She had no intention of dying yet.
Her memory had begun to cloud, but she remembered the village her trek had started at. It wasn’t far now, and if she could make it there, she would be safe, and would be able to seek Sister Alise’s help. She wasn’t sure if the woman would be able to heal so severe a wound, but if she made it back at all, she could at least die in comfort if she couldn’t be healed.
Gritting her teeth, Sun Zu Shang leaned to her right side, and used her good arm to push herself to her feet. Slightly disheartened by the way her left arm hung limp and swayed lightly as she regained her footing, the Ranger looked off down the slope awaiting her. It would have been tricky to navigate without falling. Now, with the rain turning dirt to slippery mud, it would be a death trap. In response to her own unspoken question, she shook her head. Her hair fanned, spraying a few droplets from the soaked chestnut locks. She couldn’t afford to wait. Every second she squandered now was a dance with death, and with every passing second, her steps grew more clumsy. Weighed against the ever-graceful movements of Death, she couldn’t hope to out dance him. Her only hope now was to outrun him.
She started down the slope.
Seconds turned to minutes, minutes to hours, as she carefully picked her way down the declivity. Several times already she’d had to frantically snatch out at nearby rocks or shrubs in an attempt to stabilize herself after her boot had turned up a patch of grass, only to find a perilously slick track of mud beneath. With her left arm all but dead, it was a mix of extreme effort and pure luck that kept her from losing her balance and tumbling away down the muddy hill.
A glimpse of white beside her tore her eyes away from the ground under her hands and feet. For several moments, all Sun could do was blink in astonishment. The sky lit with a sharp jag of lightning, and thunder rumbled through the sloped clearing, rumbled in her chest and ribs. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing, despite the unquestionable reality. The young girl that stood beside her couldn’t have been an illusion; she was far too real to have been imagined.
Although she only would have stood as high as Sun’s waist on solid ground, she was on a level that left her eye to eye with the Ranger. The young girls icy, sapphire eyes locked Sun’s rich bistre gaze. It was an electrifying connection, holding her like a prison. In her peripheral vision, she took in all of the details of this little girl. A pure white dress covered her slim, short body. Unadorned by useless ornaments, and unsullied by the rain that continually lashed down on Sun, the dress was certainly the most elegant garment she had ever seen, and made the Ranger feel ungainly in her masterfully crafted jadeite armor. Blonde hair ran down the girls neck and shoulders, twisting around itself in enviable, curly locks, and framed her soft, delicate face. Even so young, the girl couldn’t be described with any word short of beautiful. Silhouetted by the forking lightning, and the barely visible streaks of pouring rain, the girl exuded an air of confidence and compassion that seemed so bizarre it was nearly alien.
“You’re hurt, Sun.” The girl said, her tiny voice filled with concern. “Come with me.”
Instinctively, reflexively, Sun took a step backwards.
Confusion.
The landscape spun, the ground throttled her, smashing into her from all sides as she descended. Her wound flared in agony, and her vision blotted out in a black flash.