Ashes.
That was all that I saw around me as I opened bleary
eyes and propped myself up on one elbow. The world spun dizzyingly and I held
in a breath in the hopes it would make my nausea go away. My fingers and
clothes were a soft, dusty grey where they had touched the ground. Chalky.
There were ashes on my tongue. I spat and wiped my mouth on my previously black
sleeve.
Disoriented, I tried to recall exactly what had happened before I
landed here, on my butt, in a most undignified sprawl in a world full of
nothing but ashes. In the dim light I could barely discern several moving
shapes. I opened my mouth to call out then stopped short.
What if they were
enemies?
I had always had an obsessive fear of being assassinated although I
think being fried by my mother or Felice was a more frightening way to die.
Felice.
Her name flared in my memory and a dull, ache began at the nape of my
neck that slowly spread throughout my spine. Really ironic, I thought to
myself. The boy with the fear of assassins had gone out into the underground
den of thieves, murderers and unlicensed mages and asking for the help of one.
I clicked my tongue against my teeth and began a sort of half-crawl, half
scooting motion which hopefully would go unnoticed. The shapes turned to me. I
registered part of its features before they began to howl in an unearthly
chorus.
Banshees. Why were there banshees here in the Citadel of Time? I swear
I almost saw shock register on their faces as I began to howl along. Oh well,
if you can’t beat them, join them right?
~Rei Shiori
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