02-23-2008, 07:04 PM
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Poe. This is really long, because I'm building some character here. Don't feel pressured to match it, of course. XD You don't even have to read the italicized part, really.
Despite the fact that his mother had been the supposed Diviner for their pack, Ari had never been very sure about the supernatural. Spirits. Ghosts. Things one cannot explain through means of this world. He had never believed that his mother's powers had been true, because he saw no reason why. But perhaps he had picked the wrong thing to think of, because the previous night he had been visited by a dream that was so vivid, he couldn't get it out of his head.
It was inside of a small house, the air thick with the smell of incense and smoke. It must have been night, because the only light was flickering candlelight. There were two others in the building other than Ari (though he seemed to be nothing more than a bystander), and they were two others he knew quite well. Even through the sparse light, he could see his mother's long, matted hair and crazed eyes. She sat on a platform, legs crossed, with her hands out in front of her. Her eyes were fixated with maddened anger on the other one in the room, who was Ari's dark and stoic brother, Nikolaos. Both seemed to be having a match of silence, battling with stares. Finally, his mother spoke.
It was the voice he had always remembered — one that was vaguely reminiscent of nails on chalk boards, and hoarse by smoking far too much.
Their mother laughed, a shaking her filthy head.
He had woken in a cold sweat, with the thick smell of incense and smoke still in his nose. He had sluggishly tried to cope with what he had seen — wondering if his imagination was simply fooling with him in dreams, or he was really having visions — and eventually wandered away from his den, and ultimately away from Jaded Shadows. He wandered west, eventually losing himself in the mists and tall, skeletal trees of the Haunted Forest. He knew he could find his way out, but, for now, he was pleased to lose himself.
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Despite the fact that his mother had been the supposed Diviner for their pack, Ari had never been very sure about the supernatural. Spirits. Ghosts. Things one cannot explain through means of this world. He had never believed that his mother's powers had been true, because he saw no reason why. But perhaps he had picked the wrong thing to think of, because the previous night he had been visited by a dream that was so vivid, he couldn't get it out of his head.
It was inside of a small house, the air thick with the smell of incense and smoke. It must have been night, because the only light was flickering candlelight. There were two others in the building other than Ari (though he seemed to be nothing more than a bystander), and they were two others he knew quite well. Even through the sparse light, he could see his mother's long, matted hair and crazed eyes. She sat on a platform, legs crossed, with her hands out in front of her. Her eyes were fixated with maddened anger on the other one in the room, who was Ari's dark and stoic brother, Nikolaos. Both seemed to be having a match of silence, battling with stares. Finally, his mother spoke.
It was the voice he had always remembered — one that was vaguely reminiscent of nails on chalk boards, and hoarse by smoking far too much.
You mean to tell me,she hissed, lowering her head minutely,
That you didn't kill him.Ari remembered his stomach plummeting. He knew she meant him. Nikolaos continued to hold his ground, though Ari knew he was resisting squirming under Melantha's gaze.
He's as good as dead. I took him far southeast, to the coast. There's no way he'll last a week.He paused, giving a chilling laugh.
Besides, I'm not as heartless to kill him in cold blood, by my own hand.
Their mother laughed, a shaking her filthy head.
Stupid, stupid boy,she muttered under her breath.
Don't try to justify your actions. He still yet might live, but you had abandoned him. You are no better than us. If you had truly wanted to protect him, you would have taken him somewhere and kept him alive yourself. If you wanted to pity him, you should have killed him like I asked.She lifted a hand to her lips, taking a deep drag off of a wooden pipe, before exhaling the noxious gas. Anger flashed across Nikolaos' dark face.
You never did tell me why you wanted him dead, dear mother,he said, straining not to shout.
So tell me, why? He never did anything to trouble us! What was wrong with him?Melantha shook her head once more, continuing to smoke.
He was cursed,she replied after a few moments had passed.
When he was born, it was the night of the full moon, and as I looked on his face the clouds passed over the glorious moon. It had been a clear night. Owls called outside. It could have been no clearer of an omen. I had the right of mind to kill him then, but I didn't. I was soft. But if he had remained here any longer, doom would have visited our pack. After we have survived for so long...
You're a fool!Nikolaos had shouted, taking an aggressive step forward,
Truly believing in that. He never did anything wrong, and in all those months he lived here with us, nothing had happened. Why did you choose that—He didn't have the time to continue, because Melantha had lurched forward so fast. Ari had never thought his decrepit mother could move so swiftly, but there she was, one hand holding her pipe to her lips and the other clenched like a vice over his brother's throat. Nikolaos' hands went to his mother's, trying to pry her fingers off. She hung on in a death grip, though.
Such speak is treason,she hissed, pressing him down to the ground. Nikolaos was very tall compared to her, but as he sank to his knees, she could look down on him.
Pray to the spirits that you can continue to live here.She then let go, striking him across the face so that he fell, crumpled, to the dirty floor. She then stormed out, possibly going to the Council to see what she could do against him. Ari had tried to move to his brother's side, but the rays of the morning had called him from his dream...
He had woken in a cold sweat, with the thick smell of incense and smoke still in his nose. He had sluggishly tried to cope with what he had seen — wondering if his imagination was simply fooling with him in dreams, or he was really having visions — and eventually wandered away from his den, and ultimately away from Jaded Shadows. He wandered west, eventually losing himself in the mists and tall, skeletal trees of the Haunted Forest. He knew he could find his way out, but, for now, he was pleased to lose himself.