Reflecting
Ayrania had been seeking out solitude lately. She couldn't stand the people around her, whether she knew them or not. In fact, she seemed to hate the very thought of being around other living beings. So she would frequently head to her own little place of hiding, a place of escape.
There once was a time when she knew the city well, when she could navigate through it with ease. But now it seemed so alien to her that she couldn't recognize it. It used to be her terrain, but now it was a place she wanted to stay away from. Because of this, it would be expected that her hiding place would be far from the city, in the Silver Dale.
She sat under an oak tree, staring at the ground around her. Her sword was at her side as it usually was, though a knife was in her hand tonight. She traced the blade around her wrists, wondering blandly how long it would take to bleed to death.
"Oh I've been through this before," she said to herself. "No matter how hard I try, I can't allow myself to die in such a way..."
She attempted to cut her skin, but the small bit of pain that crept through her forced her to stop. She couldn't do this to herself no matter how much she wanted to. With a sigh, she threw the weapon, not caring where it went in the darkness around her. The moon was her only light, but tonight it was hidden behind clouds. No matter, she liked the dark. No one could see her in it, and she didn't have to worry about what they would say if they did.
"How'd my life end up like this?" she said to herself. But as soon as the words escaped her lips she let out a small laugh. She knew the answer to that. No need to keep reminding herself of it. She was total life failure, a screw up. Unable to change it no matter how much she wanted to make things right.
With a sigh, she wondered blandly where the knife went and if she would ever be able to cut her own skin...
Zaigar wandered about in the darkness of Silver Dale. It had been a while since she came here. She remembered her first hunt was here with her dad.
"Keep your eyes focused. Do not give in to the terror of the dark," that's what her father always said. Zaigar nodded to herself, as if agreeing to her father's words. She trudged slowly in the darkness, her golden eyes glowing, giving her more vision.
That's when she suddenly heard the sound of metal. It rolled towards her feet and she realized that it was a small knife. Shimmering under the moonlight. She picked it up and took a look at it. It was the knife commonly used by Sword Dancers. What is a Sword Dancer doing here? She smelt it. Blood. Someone had used this to hurt or kill someone tonight. Who? Sword Dancers are not known for hunting. But whose knife could this be?
Then she heard that distant muttering and a small laugh. Who could it be? Who could be suicidal enough to be wandering around in Silver Dale, unless its for hunting? Curiosity got the better of her.
When she walked up a little further, that's when she noticed the Sword Dancer sitting there, looking so helpless and woe-begone. She held out the knife to her and said coldly, "I believe this is yours."
Ayrania heard the footsteps but didn't care. She didn't even place her hand on her sword. At the moment, she would almost welcome someone to try to sneak up on her and possibly kill her.
"You can keep that," she said, not even sparing the woman a glance. "I have no real need for it."
She leaned her head back and sighed, staring at the treebranches above her.
"What brings you out here?" she asked, not even afraid or worried about the stranger. "Or are you just like the rest of us in this damned city? No special purpose or meaning... just wandering..."
Wandering... she once loved the word, but now it filled her with a sense of dread. She now hated everything it meant. She said the word with an icy tone as if it were the name of an enemy.
"Please let me know you at least have some sort of goal or objective for being out here..."
The owner of the sword didn't seemed too happy about getting the sword back. Since she was running out of weapons, why not? She clean the knife off the blood, pocketed it and replied, "I'm here to hunt, if you please, unlike you who is the one doing all the wandering. I happen to find most of the beings in this place rather tastier than food in The Lotus or any other place. You're a Sword Dancer, I believe?"
The woman nodded.
"Judging by the sword, you seem to fit the criteria. I haven't seen one up close and personal yet."
The woman didn't seem to be listening to her or anything, so Zaigar didn't want to waste anymore time. She was hungry and need to feed herself fast. Her appetite is no different than her gargoyle roots and she need supplements before she can get by the rest of the day.
That's when she smelt something bloody on the Sword Dancer. Was she hurt? She didn't seem like she was. She came closer and saw the cut on her wrist. It smelt of the same blood as the one she smelt on the blade of the knife she picked up. Then she understood why she looked so woe-begone when she saw her the first time. She came closer and laid her finger on the bloody cut.
"What's your story, Sword Dancer?"
Ayrania cringed away when the woman placed her fingers on her wounds.
"My story is my own business," she said, her icy blue eyes glaring up at the woman. Everything about her seemed so incredibly cold, and even her skin was that way. With a sigh, she stood.
At her side was a long silvery-blue sword, and it too seemed to radiate cold. The elf's body temperature was just barely above freezing, though she appeared to be perfectly healthy. The sword was cold enough to freeze if it cut one's skin, and by the aura that she and the weapon gave, it was obvious that she had killed many people that way.
"Oh what the hell," she said suddenly. "I've got nothing to lose by telling you... unless of course you're like many who wish to kill me..."
Zaigar put her hand down as gently as she could. She didn't want to admit it, but the hand where she touched the Sword Dancer's wound was very cold, almost more than a lifeless body could radiate. She could tell that she's an elf, of course, like the cursed man she had fallen in love with, but he was never as cold as her, not in body temperature, though.
"I have no intention to kill you," she replied. "I'm just a hunter, and will only kill for food or if you really piss me off, which I hope you're not going to. And I'm no cannibal."
The elf seemed unconvinced. That is to be expected. How could anyone if they've only just met, and in this god forsaken world nontheless? Zaigar decided to strike a deal, "Listen. I may not be someone who likes to pry into other people's business and wouldn't want to waste my time doing so, but I am a good listener. How's about you tell me your story and I'll tell you mine, and after everything's off our chest we'll just go separate ways and pretend nothing happened."
She wasn't sure if she did convince the elf or not, but since she had gone this far as to strike a conversation with her, she might as well get something back in return.
"The name's Zaigar, half-gargoyle. So what's your story...and you don't happen to have something to eat while I listen, do you?"
The elf was quiet for a moment.
"My name's Ayrania," she said eventually. "Pure elf. Nothing special. And as for food... well, I hope you like vegetables and fruit."
She picked up a small pack to her left and opened it. Searching inside for a moment, she eventually withdrew an apple.
"I don't have any sort of meat," she said. "Can't get near fires to cook it..."
She sighed sadly and sat back down again, leaning against the tree again.
"My story is kinda long," she said slowly. "I guess I'll start from the beginning...
"Years ago, when I was fifteen, I killed my father, Xanthos. He was beating me and my mother every day." She pointed to the long scar on her left cheek. "I got that when I killed him. He was about to slice my neck open, but was so drunk that he missed entirely. After he died, my mum and I moved to Ariath and tried to start a new life... But a few years later, she was killed when some bastard robbed our house. For two years after I'd been living on the streets, making money mostly by killing."
She paused for a moment, then continued.
"Up until recently, a few events made my life change drastically. A few people helped me, and I tried to give up my art of murder. It failed miserably. Long story short, after a few betrayals and a lost friend, my life has gone downhill yet again."
The tone in her voice expressed that she didn't want to elaborate.
"So now I'm here, wishing my life was over yet wanted it to continue... how about you?"
"A lost friend, huh? That makes 2 of us..."
Zaigar chewed absentmindedly at the apple the elf offered. Sounds rather sad, but not as sad as what she was about to tell.
"I'm a halfie, a half-gargoyle from my mother's side. Mother fell in love with Dad while he nursed her back to health after a terrible accident and her clan killed her for being pregnant of me. Dad looked after me and died a few years back in hunting.
"I had a friend once...An elf like you. Just some typical normal elf with an eldritch's blood, I suppose. I used to have a crush on him, but he couldn't accept my love. Said his parents were against halfies, I guess, but we agreed to be friends.
"Somehow his friend took on his prejudice for halfies on me and made him believe I killed his brother. He locked me up in an underground chamber and tortured me and forced me to confess..."
Zaigar removed her shin pads, knee pads and ribbons around her wrists and ankles, showing her the scars, "He knew where gargoyles hurt the most and he did this to me. When he couldn't get it out of me, he burned his dagger with his eldritch powers and stabbed me, right here," she showed the elf the scar on her chest, "and dumped me into the river. I barely survived. An old thief saved me and nursed me back to health, and I came back to kill him..."
Zaigar shook her head. She couldn't bear the horrible memories of killing the person she had loved and lost at the same time. She finished her apple and wore back the stuf she took off to show Ayrania. The Sword Dancer seemed to want to know something more about the elf she was talking about.
"His name was Ormack. You don't by chance know who he was, do you?"
Ayrania listened, all of her attention and interest in the story. She winced when Zaigar showed her the scars.
"Every scar has its story," she muttered, still wincing. She could only imagine how bad that must've been. Ayrania had her own scars, but never fron torture. Mostly from stab wounds and bullet wounds.
"Sorry, never heard of a man called Ormack," she said. "Ever heard of a man named Xanthos? That was my father. Almost anyone who's dealt with gangs and the black market knows who he is."
Anger flashed in her eyes for a moment, but disappeared soon after.
Zaigar caught a glimpse of the anger in Ayrania's eyes. Though brief, but she still saw it. She was trained to catch for any slight move their enemies make. She could tell that she had terrible anger and hatred for the father that caused her so much pain.
"Xanthos...? Sounds familiar," Zaigar replied. "I've never met him face to face, but I believe my father had a few dealings with him regarding purchases of cheap weapons for hunting. I guess if my father was still alive, I could get to know Xanthos..."
She saw Ayrania's face full of doubt. She could tell.
"But you don't think knowing your father is such a good idea now, is it?"
Suddenly, she recalled a distant memory. Something she had seen back when she and her father were out hunting. They saw a couple of robbers invading a home and they heard screams. She had wanted to help, but her father forbade her for she was too young. He told her to stay where she was while he handle the lot. There were loads of clashes of swords and stuff and she was a bit disappointed to miss all the action. When everything had quietened down, she took a peek and saw a dying woman handing something to her father...
She recalled the woman saying, "Give...this...to my daughter...My little Sword Dancer..."
She then fished out a pendant she had been carrying in her pouch for all these years, given to her after her father died. The pendant was bright blue in colour, like the colour of a clear blue sky she once caught a glimpse of when she traveled high up into the atmosphere and breaking through just to catch a glimpse of the sun. On the pendant, carved the initial of Ayriana's name in ancient language. She wound the pendant around Ayriana's neck and half-smiled.
"Finally, after all these years, I've found you, Sword Dancer. I believe your mother wanted you to have this."
The shock in Ayriana's eyes was expected.
"My father was the worst man to ever walk through the streets of Darken Weste," Ayrania said in reply to Zaigar's first few comments.
She seemed quite angry after this, but when her eyes fell on the pendant, everything changed. The handiwork on the small pendant was unmistakable. As a child, Ayrania had recieved many small trinkets her mother made for her, and she treasured every last one. All of them had been stolen, however, the day her mother died. On top of her mother's death, she had nothing of emotional value to remember her.
"Where...? How...? What...!?" Ayrania babble for a moment or two, but eventually she seemed unable to breathe. When she did catch her breath, however, it came in short gasps. For once in her life she had some sort of concrete memory of her mother, somehing she could actually hold on to.
"Th- Thanks..." she eventually muttered in a small voice.
"Don't mention it. I just want to get this stuff off my shoulder so that we can get on with our lives."
Time seemed to stretch as Zaigar looked at Ayrania looking at the pendant with such tenderness and happiness she had long since forgotten. Ever since Ormack's death, she had never once indulge herself into anything that might give her happiness. Looking at the elf made her feel a little jealous for she had a pendant to remember by yet she herself have scars to be reminded of everything painful in her past.
"I guess I better be going. I need to continue my hunt. I don't know if this could make you feel any better to continue living your life you claim to be worthless, but if you need any help in dying, I won't be far."
Zaigar quickly disappeared into the shadows before Ayriana could look up to make her stay.
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