13. Death of Lykos by Rook

Tuesday Sep 18, 2018 08:43

rook

It was not supposed to turn out this way.

On dark raven’s wings I made my way through the frigid air over the Sea of the Serpent. Winter’s currents made the water under me a cold black; the air was ripe with frozen rain. Cold and lifeless, like my mood.

Eventually my eyes fell upon a tiny island, just large enough for three small palm trees. Upon the white sand I landed, taking on my real form.

Earlier, I spoke with Sericea and made sure she was fine. She assured me that the wolf had attacked first, without provocation. Considering my own dealings with the savage, I didn’t doubt her. Then, I took flight. I had not even paused to bathe, so as feathers turned into flesh, the cold air burned as it drifted over my skin, still blood-slick.

At my feet, the shadows melted by my mental will, releasing the dead body of the strange savage that had preoccupied my thoughts of late.

I tried to not look at the wounds inflicted upon his torso; they had been extensive and brutally created by my own hand. A pang of guilt tightened my heart; I really did not want this youth’s death. But I could not allow him to terrorize my Family either.

Another touch of guilt brought me to my knees beside the lifeless body. Sericea. She had nearly died because I was careless. I had not tried to find the savage after Thorne had mistakenly released him.

My silver cigarette case made its way into my hand. I withdrew the final two joints inside and sent the case away. One of them got tucked behind my ear, the other I rolled around in my fingers as I considered for a moment not smoking it. The time I had spent in ground had cured me of any physical need for this substance. A gentle push of the molecules at the tip of the joint sent the first sharp wisps into my mouth, a deep breath pulled the relaxing and sweet smoke into my lungs. Oh well, here is to emotional need.

After the fragrant herb started to work its magic, I could speak to the body. “Why did you hate me so much?” I asked, half expecting a reply. Of course, I got none.

Lykos was his name. I had insulted him somehow. But the worst part was, I couldn’t remember how. I barely recalled speaking to him at all. He was frequently around, lurking in the garden or in the back of the room. After all, I would never be the one to miss a beautiful, scantly clad young man wandering around away from the crowd. But anything more than casual conversation with him went unremembered. Proof, I suppose that I’m so self-centered that I barely remember talking with people. Either that, or I smoke way to much.

“Well, you have my undivided attention now, even though it’s too late.”

Attention, it could be the only thing the boy wanted. My thoughts turned to my own cries for attention from my fiancé and lover Tempest. I so wanted his every waking moment to be trained on me and only me, so much so that I acted out in strange ways. Every day I tried to dress even more extravagant, in hopes that he would take notice. But, as I am sitting on his island alone, it was obvious that nothing I could do would keep him from spending anything more than an hour every other day with me.

The wind picked up, sending a spray of salty air and moist ice over my bare chest and into the hair of the savage. His dark hair whipped about, the only movement he would share with me. My eyes trained downward, to the pendant caught around his neck. Suddenly, I recalled in the battle that the trinket would pulse and tighten. Somehow it was a symbol of Lykos’ captivity, perhaps. Or I was putting my own history upon the dead body, as I had nothing else to go by. Thinking that there might be a connection with his soul, I reached forward and slipped the thing off over his head. Thankfully it came without resistance, I had no ability to dispel magic or remove curses.

Now, I had the body to dispose of. In a land of magic, remains had to be disposed of completely, for should only a bone survive, it would be enough for a Cleric to question the soul about who killed it. The life of the Masque Family would become uncomfortable then, at best.

I would normally use fire to dispose of evidence, but considering this youth’s connection to fire, it might just end up resurrecting him, like some damn phoenix. I actually considered at that moment, giving it a try. Maybe it would heal him, and then the guilt over his death could be unborn from my shoulders. But, Lykos had shown he was perfectly willing to attack any of my Family, and should one of them perish in his place, I would never forgive myself.

So that left the other option, and my gaze swept out toward the dark waves. Fish, currents, and hopefully time would dispose of the remains for me.

Flicking the end of the first joint out into the crashing waves, I put the other one to my lips and lit it as well. The fresh draw gave me enough strength to stand and complete my task. It was gruesome work, but by the time I was done, the body had been cut up and sent seaward. A quick mental touch to any sea life in the area, gave them the compulsion to arrive and discover fresh food.

There, it was done.

Standing in the salty, icy air, I looked out toward the dark sea once more. I had hardly stopped to notice how cold I felt, how my long white hair was soaked with blood and ice. I threw the final stub of my joint out into the waves, and whispered a quiet farewell, “It was not supposed to turn out this way, Lykos. I hope your soul can find peace.”

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It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us.
~Marionne Williamson

Tues, Jan 20th – 4:32PM

days in the dark
sericea

In the passed few days, Sericea had stayed in her room. The doors were always closed, if not locked on occasion. So much had happened and so quickly. Noises had filled the hallways, shallow echoes of passing events, but it had been so distant. Mostly she had been comfortable just laying on her bed, staring aimlessly off as her thoughts picked over the details of it all. Sometimes a knock would come at the door, disturbing her concentration, but it was always the same, her family was concerned. Though she didn’t mean to be so cold in her replies, she had tried to end the communication quickly. Reutrning to her thoughts, she dreamt… and sometimes slept. Morning, evening, and the approach of dawn; they were all the same to her. The drapes were always closed.

Sitting at her vanity on this particular night she was quietly reflecting. Each time she brought the brush through her hair, she arrived at some conclusion about herself, about others. In the end, it really is your family, the only real thing you can count on in this world. Without a stronghold how can anything stand the test of time through life…. even through death. It is those we can depend on, and for those worth saving that we endure such difficult times.

Setting her brush down, the gleam off the silver pendant caught her eye. With a small sigh she let her shoulders fall a bit. As beautiful as the necklace seemed, it was a constant reminder. As the candle light danced and the gleam slid down the chain, her gaze fell to the brush resting on her vanity. Life was full of hard lessons; it always would be.

With a deep breath, she sets back her shoulders. Standing at last, she smiles faintly. Though it still seemed to only be the shell of a face once worn, she could not, would not forget it. Snatching the necklace from her mirror, she tucked it away in her pocket. With one last attempt to find a smiling gaze in the mirror, she snuffed out the twin candles.

~ Private thoughts of Sericea Masque

Who am I to the world?
One lost little girl.

But who am I to you?
A passing face in shadow