Chapter Four: Beginning of the storm of despair.

Blaire, now at age four:

Ever since that day it felt like something had change in Blaire, I don’t know what they said or did to her, but that curious look in her eyes was gone. She looked like one who was about swallowed by grief, despondent, some one that has lost all reason to live. It sound much like an exaggeration but that how it looks like. She was out of her ‘energy’.

How do I know this? How do I know what she is feeling? Two reasons.

First, I had been through this in the early stages of finding out what ‘life’ is through the many cycles. A few time trapped in utter despair of what was around. Having to accept the inevitable like all have. Seeing the carnage and death before, having to know things you should not at an early age. The very sight and thought of it feels like you soul is being torn apart.

Second, call it an innate feeling from one that has held a blade. Knowing the intent behind a person is something one must be familiar with. Finding the emotion behind every action, the wildness and calmness of the one behind the weapon which is reflected on the weapon, basic psychology.

She was distant from everyone, me as well. She did though, watch from a distance but that curious look she had had in her eyes were no more. The feeling I got from looking at her is that she had buried everything so as to not conflict two ideals; one that Caela and Varden imposed on her and that of her own. And the backlash made her lack the drive for anything.

When it comes down to it, it feels like I’m the cause.

Her very own suffering.

I wonder what effect this would bring have on her along the line of her life. That event may have been an awakener that will make her know how the world will be in the future. Or the boundary she had put around herself is her safety mechanism for ignoring the world she will grow into.

Either way all I can do is watch from the sidelines. I am still forbidden from coming close, to help anchor her. She did me that one favour that I had hoped to return but should I make any contact, things would be worse…

After that they had blame me for her current countenance. To the point I had overheard them wanting to have me thrown out and out of this town as people are not favorable of my existence. Though, I wasn’t sure why they didn’t go through with it. I had no qualms if they decided to, because to me that’s how the flow of my life in this lifetime was going.

These two years was even harder. The abuse from everyone that got the chance, basically telling me to die or give back the Blaire they knew. Much tougher chores.

And I did the usual and not care. I had by regiments to go by and that was all I needed to pass the time.

I was still on the blind about what exactly to do in this world. I still had no information on currents and knowledge. But I do know one thing if the story didn’t start by the time I came of age—whatever age that was—or the time they saw fit to throw me out I would still have the opportunity to know about this world.

Why haven’t I left myself? It pointless.

I will only move to the flow of the world. If they are fed up of my existence they can either put me down or send me away, it doesn’t matter to me in the least…

Ever since that day the night became even colder. I felt myself drown in the silence of darkness before into the crowd of consciousness I call experiences of past lives.

The effects were still minimal as the bar still feels intact, but it just felt to noisy and the tiredness I felt piled up. Yet I still moved through the days, waiting for the storms of despair to come. And for some reason it feels so close, like a guillotine hanging overhead to the ignorant people of this town.

*

Prelude: Showtime, The story begins.

*

Prelude:

The beginning of a story. It is an important role as is the rest of the story.

The tempo, the mood, setting, and stunning visual all start at that point. In comparison to a human structure it is the very foothold, the foundation in which the story holds firm.

An awe inspiring Prelude is just what one needs in an epic or loft story. One that draws the audience—

Tonight I find myself unable to sleep. Something feels different from the usual of the day.

I sit up, one right knee up, the right hand bridged over, the other leg angled on the floor and left arm to the hay.

I know melancholy follows like a cloud of smoke encompassed around me in my daily life but, this is different.

The door creaked open and coming in from the stairs I see a familiar figure. It’s been so long since she came down here. Why now of all times? It’s really faint but I feel her ooze restlessness. I may be overthinking this but could she have unconsciously felt the impending chaos in the air. No… Not unless it is a reaction borne from a forgotten lifetime of hers.

Her being down here will only cause me more hurt come the morning. Even so I don’t plan on stopping her, the only one who gave me warmth, as she drew closer. The reason being the feeling I have now. And… well…

As usual, without a word she came to my side, where my leg is to the hay and sat. Seconds later she lowered herself to the side unto my leg and fell even more silent, only the faints of her breath was heard….

There is a stillness in the air which is only felt when—

Ah, I see. So it begins, it seems. I had wondered how long it would take but it came sooner.

How would this play out?

Would my time finally come? Or/and will an endless suffering continue?

The prospect of the possibilities almost brings a sadistic smile, a tendency in a few of my lifetimes.

Let there be chaos and bloodshed…!

The night was cold and eerily silent. The moons had bid their farewells and were resting in the darkness of the sky, bringing darkness to the nightscapes below. Even the stars seemed to reflect the eeriness of the town below.

The guards on the wall strained their eyes under the light of the burning flames of their torches to see into the thick darkness, though, still as carefree as they had always been.

“Where are the damn next shift? It’s hell as difficult keeping my eyes opened.” Yawned a guard.

“Are you sure it’s not your fatty of a wife calling?” Teased the one beside him.

“Even better, at least I got one to go to. I’m not the one whose beautiful wife left him for a hairless traveling merchant, not forgetting his lifesavings.” Relied the sleepy looking guard.

“I swear, should I see that bitch’s face again I’ll rip her apart. And that merchant I’ll make him a eunuch and stuff his dick into his mouth. He’ll forever suck on it never to blow his load. That cuck.” That retort for the sleepy man clearly struck a nerve, a painful memory, making him runt on.

“You’re the ‘cuck’” said sleepy looking man under his breath, slightly exasperated.

“The hell did you just say?”

“Nothing…!”

In dark of a forest, calmed, not a single night creature stirred. The forest had an eeriness to it which stared back at you trying to draw you into its depth, as if it knew that something was yet to happen.

A few moment later the sounds of twigs and dried leaves, clearly, being trudge upon drew closer, though soft, because of the quiet in the dark forest it traveled far.

Not long the bushes shook and figures clad in black moved.

Their sights the small walled town surrounded by the verdant.

The figures stopped at the edge of the forest, Droff woods, hidden behind the extra blanket of darkness the canopied trees gave.

After a moment of observation, the one at the front, who was obviously the leader, raised his hand and with a gesturing wave signaled the crew to move.

They splitted into three—one larger than the rest, which would split again so as to cover the four directions of the walled town. Due to its positioning, the town sat encompassed by tall vegetation at three cardinal points leaving half the town in an open space of patches of dirt and green use for farmlands.

The leader looked to the gate ahead, the torches hanged at the top of the wall right above the gate shining an orange hue to where its glow touched, only a few feet in distance. And the few guards walking atop keeping watching.

He moved and his people followed behind. Down the trudged paths coming closer. As they were dressed in black their figures were hidden in the darkness of the moonless night.

Closer to the destination they angled away so the light would not hit them and be discovered by the nightwatch.

Stopping a distance from the gate where the light did not reach they readied themselves.

From that blindspot, now free of any passing guard.

One of the men held out a rope and attached at its end a claw hook. He swung it around before letting it loose. It flew up and with a clang fell to the floor on top of the wall, a tug back the hook clinged sturdily into a gap on the side of the wall. Giving the distance away from the patrol barely any sound was heard by them.

After checking that it safely latched he turned to their leader and gave a nod.

“Move.” Ordered the leader to the others.

One by one they scaled the wall.

Setting upon the wall the first batched didn’t waste time and moved closing in on the nearest person who was moving in their direction.

Speedily the quad reached the first man and before he could react the one at the front passed by—in a synchronized move standing right behind him as shield from prying eyes and before the guard could alarm the others the one following after the first took out a long dagger and slashed at the guard’s neck.

“Ahk—”

Quickly the third grabbed the touch before the man fell. A nod to the two he backed away as a decoy and the two moved towards the gate.

The second batch had also set to work going down into the town taking out the patrol within at their given sectors.

The same went for the other teams.

They plunged their daggers into guts and chest, some slashing at them or decapitating them together…

Sneakily they trio drew in and quickly dispatched the guard situated on the wall above the gate before they could react, only grunts escaped they lips as the fell lifeless to the floor, one falling of to the floor with a heavy thud.

One of the men grabbed a torch turned facing the buildings and gave the torch a wave. In the distance he saw torches, at their respective cardinals and subs being waved back at him, signaled the success of their mission.

The one waving the torch ceased his actions and looked below to the group gathered below. Giving them a nod two below stepped forward and moved to the dual gate, one behind each and gave a push, opening it up.

The gate creaked open to a sizable army, in full platemail, clamour to a halt.

The one that stood before the army was no different from the others, probably a stand in for the real commander.

He turned to his men.

“Men! Tonight we rain carnage, leave no one alive.”

“Hyah!!”

They gave a loud warcry as they shuffled into the town spreading out across.