Silver and Cold

Sins were disgraces marked from the Gods. Any mortal or creature that displeased them would be paid with misfortune and pain. Each sin committed would be left there until begged of forgiveness. It was a deep black scar within the heart that eventually controlled the living. It controlled everything from their thoughts, their life and emotions.

If left unresolved, they bounded as one into a massive cage. Into this cage lied the overwhelming fears of mortals. Into this cage, the sinners were trapped for all eternity. The Gods granted that they never may pass into the next world of peace or reincarnation. These sinners were to be left in that cage wallowing in shadows, the hate and cold fear that lingered in their souls. Forever haunted they were, forever ghosts upon those they hated, the sinners were in turmoil. They were in anguish, agony and sorrow. Their wails and sobs could be heard, as the loud winds would roar by in the nights. They cry for mercy, they cry for forgiveness, they cry for they want to move on and be accepted.

Death for a sinner was not something to be taken lightly. As life ended, the light would melt away like the snow in the spring. Slowly, slowly, the light became dim. The last of all things were sensed. The area surrounding them, the taste on their tongues, the feeling of emotion and physical attributes and the sound of their last breaths would slowly escape. Souls do not vanish quickly; the sinner is given the last chances to cherish this life. And then, darkness consumed them. Frightening silence rushed into their clearing and the darkness one could feel and taste. Instantly, the sinner would know they were alone even though nothing was certain. Their eyes were open to the darkness and foreboding fear lingered. No thought lingered into their souls but only death.

Sinners felt only fear as they scream in terror.
But no voice was made and no shrieks they hear from their selves. And yet they were heard to those who still lived and seen to those they still loathed.

Just cruel, cold darkness and grave silence were there to comfort and torture.
Solitude for all of eternity and beyond.
For the sins of the mortal.
The sinner.

Slave. Rebellion. Freedom. Confusion. Run. Fall. Darkness. Blue Light. Corpses. Debris. Broken. Memory. Captured. Arrested. Hatred. Blank. Orange. Violet. Comfort. Friendship. Escape. Freedom. Trapped. Murder. Sorrow. Promise. Rain. Beginning. Acquainting. Rescue. Team. Violence. Insults. Fight. Colors. Jewels. Shimmer. Sparkle. Twirl. Dance. Blood. Murder. Massacre. Stab. Shot. Names. Orange. Red. Ebony. Violet.

Black. Darkness.
Fear. Terror. Silence.

White.

White like the snow.

There was a soft light. It was small but was clearly seen in the veil of the shadows. Slowly it fell, floating gently until it stopped. The light continued to glow and flicker in the darkness when it dimmed. It was a feather, pure and clean. The feather lay, slowly swaying to an unseen force.

And then, it started to glow again. It was blinding. Its rays touched the shadows and rippled before the darkness swallowed it whole again. But the feather remained untouched as it floated again. It began to twirl in a tedious pace. It looked like it was dancing to an unheard beat.

It waltzed and its rotation started to quicken the pace.

One, two, three. One, two, three. And one, two, three.
One, two, three.

It spun wildly and the rays from it began to grow and touch the walls of death yet again.
Wings sprouted on either sides and a dove resurrected from it. The flutter of wings echoed as it flew to the top of a no exit cage. The echo reverberated around and around. It grew loud and all attention was to the dove. It continued to fly with it’s light fading.

The dove was followed.

The warmth had tingled back into the sinner’s lips. It was pressed against lightly and the flap of the wing had brought them to another place. It was still dark but images began to flash in the soul.

He reached for her and she didn’t move away. The flower petals were blossoming and ascending to the ground. His warm, soft hand rested on her cheek. The deep gray eyes stared into hers with innocence and warmth as he wrapped his arms around her. Never had she felt such feelings as she closed her eyes and his lips brushed against hers. Stroking, massaging, dancing in synchronization. Just like that she felt herself melt and her heart swelled. The whisper of his name resounded into his lips as their kiss was pure and eternal. This was love that she had heard of and they sunk into each other’s arms.

“I’ll love you forever,” he promised.

Until…

…Pain.

STOP IT-
STOP, PLEASE.
SERYALE, PLEASE, STOP IT-

SERYALE!

Red. Screams.
Broken.

Pain and betrayal broke loose and the world shattered.
Sorrow and tears. The darkness rumbled and the light shrunk but the sinner continued to follow.

“I’m Miraye.”
“Tic…”
“I’ll get you out of here, Tic, I promise.”
Violet eyes peered back at her in the cold dungeons. He was a frail-looking boy that had reminded her of when she was found by Seryale. It was then she vowed to always take care of him. Whoever he was, she knew he would be trusted. He would a companion, a friend. Someone who would finally understand her. They were both lost and misunderstood.

Just don’t break me like he did.

“Please help me.”
Full of tears, she was helped by a soft smile and clear, hazel eyes.

“Matty.”
“Pinky.”
Insults that were humorous at the most.
Unseen eyes and blue hair.

Black wings and a teddy bear. The flapping of demonic angel wings.
She was lost and distant.

Sparkling lights and the mixture of colors.
A loud chorus band with music.

He took me by the hands.

“Age before beauty!”

“Fucker.”

“So be it.”
Orange eyes in a glaring manner. “So be it,” he said and he pulled the trigger. His hair was dark and graceful.

Pain…

“I’m sorry.”

“I’ll haunt you.”

The dove stopped and flew down to the sinner who held out a pale hand. She kissed the top of its head and it cooed in response. Its light blinding.

The darkness was gone.

The thunder boomed.

Miraye’s eyes shot open and she gasped for breath. It stung as the air entered her lungs and she clutched her left breast now beating rapidly. Her eyes moved as the trees swayed and a lighting flash struck across the sky. The rain roared around her in a violent storm. Weakly she sat up, trembling in shock. The blood pumped and it hurt her and she shrilly inhaled the sweet air that continued to enter her. She placed her head in her hands and reasonless tears began to flow from her eyes. She shut them in hopes they would cease but they continued to streak down her face. She was paler than ever and seemed to glow in the dark night. Her head hurt, she was dizzy and her body was in an extreme amount of pain. It felt as though she had been ripped apart from the inside.

Placing her hands on a tree, she forced herself up. She leaned on it and continued to gasp for air and some raindrops slipped down the front of her dress. She could feel the coldness cross in between her breasts and her body reacted as her arms were covered in goose bumps. Miraye wrapped her arms around herself and took sight of everything around her. She shivered and recognized the trees. The castle was still in majestic views even though they were far away but all was silent except for the storm.

Why was she here?
Did she really die? Miraye looked down at her left breast and saw the hole and the black ebony stains gracing the white. It did happen. She murdered many but still no guilt came.

She took a step forward and stopped. She had stepped on something. Her eyes peered down upon another figure in white, hunched and frail. She recognized who this was. Miraye sunk to her knees and rolled the body over. Tic’s eyes were slightly closed and he looked tired and drained. He was still breathing though. It all came clear that he saved her. The seven Gods gave him the power to heal. A cleric, she thought, how amazing. She brushed the bangs from his eyes and kissed his forehead in silent thanks. She couldn’t leave now, she promised to take care of him. And so, she gently lifted his head and placed it on her lap and closed his eyes. Miraye watched the storm continue to rage and the castle’s lights turned a melancholy red. Larkin was still alive.

The sorceress slowly raised her arms and placed her forefingers together. She closed her eyes and thanked Hisheme as she uttered a spell that made their surroundings invisible and impossible to sense.

“I’ve been given a second chance,” she whispered and leaned back against the tree, stroking Tic’s wet hair. “I promise that this one will be promising.”

Miraye looked up at the dark sky. She touched her cold, chapped lips.
“Seryale…”