The girl's eyes were red, the proof that she was the only one with Mori blood to have escaped the destruction of the land she was born into. Proof of the spideresque blood that coursed through her veins and the reason for her black widow hourglass symbol. The blood dripped from an open wound. Old scars criss crossed her arms and legs as badges of honor, her proof that she had fought and survived. She was motionless, watching the sunset. Tomorrow would be another battle, another test for the strength of her heart.
Her hair was a dark blue, unnatural, but then who could call the feral child natural? Not born under a clear sky, the girl had been born under the third full moon of a four full moon cycle. In her veins was the history of many wars, different cultures, all somehow blended and meshed into a rather short and scrawny creature. She was like the water, many different parts all combined and flowing naturally, mixing and never the same pattern twice.
A white rose hung limply from her hand. She'd spent days scouring the land to procure the precious gift, the snow having been a hindrance but not enough for the flower to elude her. Pure, innocent love was what she had found, and a pure, innocent representation was her response, the dove flying overhead seemingly confirming that. Her albino skin was well suited to this wintery wasteland known as the North, her Northerner heritage coming in handy. Nightfall came early in this unforgiving land, and the girl could not help but admire the stars above, her beacons in the sky to guide her to where he would be in hiding, awaiting her arrival, the irony of two star crossed lovers, she thought silently.
The sky was midnight black, save for the stars which would guide her to him. His dark eyes sought her out in the snow, seeking the familiar hair and glowing eyes. The cawing of his crow heralded her approach, and his smile was visible beneath his beard. The boy had escaped the dark castle where he was in training to become a knight. She was his world, and he would sooner death take him than their love be put asunder, the war between their factions be darned. Finally, he could see a shadow, hear the crunch of boots on snow. He left his hiding place, the world going dark as a sword pierced his heart and the words "Death to traitors" fell on dying ears.
You are a good narrator, Amanda--I can tell that you are a reader from the way you put your sentences together and move the action along. So many rich, vivid details here. I especially like the way you suggest the history of many cultures and times running through her veins and the "stars which would guide her to him."
ReplyDeleteHi, Amanda! Whoa, did the girl kill her lover? He can’t die, not if she is his everything! Why would she want to kill him? This is such a brilliant story that is full of beautiful imagery, and a maddening plot twist at the end. It had a certain “Romeo and Juliet” vibe when you were talking about star-crossed lovers, and the boy “sooner death take him than their love be put asunder.” Your imagery in this piece was absolutely beautiful, and it made it easy to picture what was going on in the story. I especially liked when you were describing how the girl found the white rose, despite the snow. It was as if the rose was waiting for the girl to find it, so she could be reminded of her lover one more time before he dies (or did she kill him?). This was a fascinating story that left me wanting to keep reading more!
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