“Another one?”
A wisp of dust. The stench of burnt flesh. In the ashes pooled a swirl of feathers, figments of shadows which took substance as the wind settled. What was once nothing became something, in the space of mere moments after a distant explosion: too distant to hear here, yet the ripples were felt nonetheless. Encased in grey, crowned with leaves, laid the inanimate figure of a crow.
Delicately unfolding one stiff wing between his gloved forefinger and thumb a confirmation at last hummed through his throat in response. “But the first crow. At least, the first for a long time. Burnt alive it would seem.”
“What a mess,” His companion huffed. With a scowl of frustration he folded his arms and glowered at their surroundings: the ‘Dead Zone’, as it was called on the lips of many. A vast expanse a hundred kilometres long and twenty wide covered in nothing but a thick sheet of dry, warm ash. Rain didn’t touch here. Nor did unfettered sunshine. Clouds, lethargic and thin hung constantly above, casting shadows of grim depression from the veil of their ragged, drawn faces: dark enough to smother the sun but too weak to become pregnant with moisture and storms. Even the air was still, oppressive. The only winds which touched here occurred when a life had been taken. Taken and then restored.
And yet for every life restored - as it all was eventually in the endless cycle of the Kingfisher Forest - the Dead Zone grew, manifested, a plague that seeped forth, crept forwards, expanding its territory inch by inch, second by second. You never noticed its progress until it was too late - too major a lurch.
“If only they knew.” He growled, sickened by the sight after a mere glance. With another irritated grumble he raised a hand to massage out the headache brewing at the bridge of his nose. It didn’t work of course, but habits died hard.
“Hmm~, now now, you know we can’t exactly go around telling people about this.” Chastised the Knight kneeling in the ash, wing still in hand. He was holding it not with delicacy but with masked disgust, like one would a soiled nappy.
“Tch. It never crosses your mind that maybe we should?”
A lilting laugh, like the tinkling chime of small bells, sung from the Knight’s throat. He was smiling. No. Grinning. A whole set of pearly whites parting his lips, but the handsome dazzle was lost on his long-term companion. He knew well that this man’s smiles were duplicitous - venomous. Full of ice. Immediately he regretted letting that thought slip out. “Hrm, then maybe we should after all?” The Knight proposed with mischievous delight.
“You find this funny? Seriously?” He didn't like the way the man's amber eyes sparked with excitement.
The Knight shrugged. Suddenly bored of the bird he dropped its wing and rose to his feet, ignoring the creature as the first flutters of its renewed heartbeat pulsed twitches of warm blood through its wings. First a convulsion. Then a squawking gasp. Moments later it stumbled upright and took flight back into the forest’s heart from whence it came.
“You don’t find me funny?” The Knight rebuked, aghast and pressing his gloved hand against his chest in mock horror. The uniform he wore was as crisp and impeccable as his acting, all clean lines and finely-measured cuts and folds. “How deeply you wound me, Sir.”
“This is a serious problem!”
“Oh yes, it really is. Keep scowling like that and you’re sure to never be as pretty as I.” The Knight tutted and moved to playfully poke at his companion’s furrowed brow. Yet the fellow soldier was either too quick or the Knight too lazy. Perhaps both.
“Go sort it out!” He snapped, rearing his head away with unmasked disgust.
“Ah. Mean. You’re sending me out all alone?”
“I’ll join you later. Probably. There’s-” A pause. They both sensed another wisp of disturbed air, distant but noticeable in the plumes of ash from which it arose. “-There’s more work here to be done and recorded.” He sighed.
“Oh that’s true. I hate paperwork. I retract my earlier remark, you’re incredibly noble, dear.”
“Ugh. I preferred Sir.”
“Well then, my dearest Sir. I shall miss you deeply! 'Distance makes the heart grow fonder' is such bullshit, so be sure to find me before I forget about my duty altogether! HAHA!”
With a snap of his gloved fingers the Knight vanished, spirited away in a swirling gale with a teasing wink and a thrilled laugh that echoed. A laugh that still haunted the begrudged soldier left behind to wade through the ankle-deep grey. It irked him almost as much as the task of discovering the reanimating corpse of whatever else had died next.
A wisp of dust. The stench of burnt flesh. In the ashes pooled a swirl of feathers, figments of shadows which took substance as the wind settled. What was once nothing became something, in the space of mere moments after a distant explosion: too distant to hear here, yet the ripples were felt nonetheless. Encased in grey, crowned with leaves, laid the inanimate figure of a crow.
Delicately unfolding one stiff wing between his gloved forefinger and thumb a confirmation at last hummed through his throat in response. “But the first crow. At least, the first for a long time. Burnt alive it would seem.”
“What a mess,” His companion huffed. With a scowl of frustration he folded his arms and glowered at their surroundings: the ‘Dead Zone’, as it was called on the lips of many. A vast expanse a hundred kilometres long and twenty wide covered in nothing but a thick sheet of dry, warm ash. Rain didn’t touch here. Nor did unfettered sunshine. Clouds, lethargic and thin hung constantly above, casting shadows of grim depression from the veil of their ragged, drawn faces: dark enough to smother the sun but too weak to become pregnant with moisture and storms. Even the air was still, oppressive. The only winds which touched here occurred when a life had been taken. Taken and then restored.
And yet for every life restored - as it all was eventually in the endless cycle of the Kingfisher Forest - the Dead Zone grew, manifested, a plague that seeped forth, crept forwards, expanding its territory inch by inch, second by second. You never noticed its progress until it was too late - too major a lurch.
“If only they knew.” He growled, sickened by the sight after a mere glance. With another irritated grumble he raised a hand to massage out the headache brewing at the bridge of his nose. It didn’t work of course, but habits died hard.
“Hmm~, now now, you know we can’t exactly go around telling people about this.” Chastised the Knight kneeling in the ash, wing still in hand. He was holding it not with delicacy but with masked disgust, like one would a soiled nappy.
“Tch. It never crosses your mind that maybe we should?”
A lilting laugh, like the tinkling chime of small bells, sung from the Knight’s throat. He was smiling. No. Grinning. A whole set of pearly whites parting his lips, but the handsome dazzle was lost on his long-term companion. He knew well that this man’s smiles were duplicitous - venomous. Full of ice. Immediately he regretted letting that thought slip out. “Hrm, then maybe we should after all?” The Knight proposed with mischievous delight.
“You find this funny? Seriously?” He didn't like the way the man's amber eyes sparked with excitement.
The Knight shrugged. Suddenly bored of the bird he dropped its wing and rose to his feet, ignoring the creature as the first flutters of its renewed heartbeat pulsed twitches of warm blood through its wings. First a convulsion. Then a squawking gasp. Moments later it stumbled upright and took flight back into the forest’s heart from whence it came.
“You don’t find me funny?” The Knight rebuked, aghast and pressing his gloved hand against his chest in mock horror. The uniform he wore was as crisp and impeccable as his acting, all clean lines and finely-measured cuts and folds. “How deeply you wound me, Sir.”
“This is a serious problem!”
“Oh yes, it really is. Keep scowling like that and you’re sure to never be as pretty as I.” The Knight tutted and moved to playfully poke at his companion’s furrowed brow. Yet the fellow soldier was either too quick or the Knight too lazy. Perhaps both.
“Go sort it out!” He snapped, rearing his head away with unmasked disgust.
“Ah. Mean. You’re sending me out all alone?”
“I’ll join you later. Probably. There’s-” A pause. They both sensed another wisp of disturbed air, distant but noticeable in the plumes of ash from which it arose. “-There’s more work here to be done and recorded.” He sighed.
“Oh that’s true. I hate paperwork. I retract my earlier remark, you’re incredibly noble, dear.”
“Ugh. I preferred Sir.”
“Well then, my dearest Sir. I shall miss you deeply! 'Distance makes the heart grow fonder' is such bullshit, so be sure to find me before I forget about my duty altogether! HAHA!”
With a snap of his gloved fingers the Knight vanished, spirited away in a swirling gale with a teasing wink and a thrilled laugh that echoed. A laugh that still haunted the begrudged soldier left behind to wade through the ankle-deep grey. It irked him almost as much as the task of discovering the reanimating corpse of whatever else had died next.
). Getting involved in a new community is always a lil' awkward but hey, here I am