And here we are: the last post for 2016. Been sick for the past couple of days, so much so I couldn't do much of anything - and this morning I thought I'd have to cancel tonight's plans because I felt like that much crap. Well, kinda cleared, and though I'm not feeling great, I'm at the least feeling functional. I can type, which says enough XD (seriously, yesterday I couldn't even game - you know you're really sick when you're a gamer who can't game <<).
So, as I still have lots to do, I'll just share what I came here to share XD happy new year y'all, and welcome 2017! Be good @.@
She
could not quite define 'it', which bothered her ever-clear mind. This 'it', something
between a sentiment and a certainty, something neither defined as thought or feeling
but almost possessing its qualities, was a perturbing element to someone who
did not perceive emotions. Perhaps a mortal, specifically of the easily
frightened race of Humans, might have defined this fleeting sentiment as that
feeling in a dark alleyway that makes you turn your head around to ascertain no
one is following you.
Well,
something was following her all right; something had been following her and her
unacknowledged kin for some time now – several centuries, judging by the
passing of mortal generations. But only recently, in the last few generations,
had that something become almost… tangible.
Like
a Human, as much in appearance as in sudden appreciation, she looked over her
shoulder and paused. The day was clear, the wooded road dense yet bright with sunlight.
A couple of birds were chattering away on their high branches. Roots slowly
drained prolific underground streams, bark cracked and leaves rustled, water
filling their veins. Insects scampered before larger rodents or erected rows of
tiny needles on their plated backs. Fungi, plants and flowers took of the
streams and smallest of insects. The forest was alive. There was no trace of
corruption. She narrowed her eyes and walked on.
What
she had come for lied rotting beneath a broken wagon wheel some way off the
road. Aggressive plants had crawled in to hog the remains of the dead wanderer
and the carcass of his horse, which had been crushed by the weight of the wagon
itself. Their souls were still intact.
The
horse proved unchallenging to sever; the mortal, however – a father of two and
husband to one – pleaded with her not to tear him away from this already
obsolete life. She obeyed only her own code of conduct; over the generations,
she had come to understand that granting the mortals their last wishes allowed
her to reap their souls far more effectively than were she to force oblivion
upon them. Nonetheless, her stoic expression would show a trace of exasperation
when the man, a farmer by tradition, beseeched her to bring his family the aur
he'd won in a dubious game of dice. She understood at once why the wagon's
front axles were partially smooth where they'd snapped in half. How he had not
been robbed yet, however, was made clear by the man's explanation: he had
simply swallowed the auren coins to carry them safely back home. It was sensible
reasoning, she reckoned.
Her
word given, the man accepted to abandon the semblance of life remaining in his
soul. She retrieved the auren coins after the complete disintegration of the
rotting corpse, which took but moments in her presence. Not a speck of blackened
meat remained.
And
at the moment she would leave death's scene she paused, and looked over her
shoulder. It was unbecoming of her rank to react as Humans would in states of
paranoia. She did not understand why she felt so… watched. More so now than
ever, even though she knew those immaterial eyes to be the same ones that had
been following her for generations. There was something… more. But it was not in her nature to feel fear or experience
weakness. So she looked away, her gaze straight forward, and evaporated in a
billowing cloud of dark smoke.
Death
was seen no more.
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