An Omen Granted

[Malocchio 983]

 

 

Outside a keep located in the remote, distant north, a storm brewed alongside its vacant port.

 

A young woman tossed and turned in her slumber.

 

“Come to me, child, we’ve much to discuss.”

 

Standing atop a withering cobblestone bridge, an aging, decrepit nomad outstretched his hand, an amiable grin carved into his pale features. He appeared beyond friendly, warm yet occult all at once, slender, wrinkled digits wriggling in invitation. Before him stood a girl, obsidian locks over her shoulders, nearly five decades younger than the wilting figure clothed in tattered cloth and leather.

 

“Do you remember the woman?” he’d inquire gently, seeking to ensnare the attention of the nameless youth. In response, she bobbed her head thrice, wringing her hands in front of her figure - a gesture for him to continue. He obliged, nodding on. “I tasked you awhile back. What has deterred you? Are you not devoted to me?”

 

“I am sorry, my Lord, I-”

“There’s no excuse.”

“You must understand, my Lord, I… there were people in my-”

“No excuses. Now, look at me.”

 

The raven-haired devotee balled a fist at her side, listening intently as the shriveling man chided her with ease, bony fingers coiling around the oaken cane used to support his frame. “You believe you know many things, do you not?”

 

Silence ensued.

 

“Awfully quiet, dear child,” he said with a sigh, clearly disappointed, “There are many things you do not know. I’ve observed your habits since you were a fledgling. A radiant, blossoming youth. I chose you for a reason, my darling girl, you understand your purpose in this life. Now, tell me- what do you do to the woman?”

 

The evening hours brought a restless girl mild distress, helplessly stirring in her wordless rest, anemic lips parting to emit a muted whine of disquietude. She clutched the bulky cloth covering the lowermost portion of her lithe form, reeling it towards her in hopes to shield and warm her torso as the midnight visions advanced.

 

“I slain the woman, my Lord- I did as you requested in our last meet. I wouldn’t disobey your orders.”

 

Amusement riddled itself into twisted, aged features as the ancient man surveyed the noticeably distraught young woman who involuntarily fidgeted, dubiously averting her gaze. “Excellent,” he praised her soothingly, etching a cordial smile into his countenance, eloquently urging, “Do tell- how did the woman respond, my dear?”

 

Inhaling sharply, the feeble girl reluctantly began, expressing the happenings in a thoughtful, empty tone.

 

“We had met in the tavern, established near the very center of Felsen; a paltry target for sure, seated in her lonesome, far in the back room, tankard clenched in her hands. She stood out from most of the drunkards, quiet, contently absorbed in the literature laid out upon the table… There was an obscure vacancy in her fixation, luring me in to seat myself in the chair across from her. We spoke for awhile, she offered me a drink and I politely declined, expressing my distaste for most alcoholic beverages after retiring from an idle job.

 

That’s when I led her outside of the establishment, appearing genuine in my desire to further the exchange I had started between the two of us. We walked for a while, to the port of Felsen, seating ourselves, grins mimicking each other as we momentarily enjoyed the sea’s ambience. She had around twenty years on her person, readable by meager wrinkles ‘pon her forehead and shaded circles tainting the skin under her eyes. I questioned about family.

 

Rainfall began- a sign and affirmation from.. you, my Lord. The woman didn’t want to go inside, claiming the sound of the rain and sea reminded her of home. I had to strike, then, when she was relaxed and without stress. I smiled a calm smile, bobbing my head in agreement to her statement, only to wordlessly slither a hand towards a broken, lonely piece of brick which decayed from a surrounding wall. I smashed it over the back of her head. She fell into darkness without a single mumble or blink. Sudden blackness..”

 

Discomfort was evident in the youth’s expression, thin fingers lacing betwixt each other as she grudgingly carried on with the recollection, the audience being the man and him alone.

 

“It’s rare to see a single soul lingering near the docks. That’s why I chose it, my Lord- I heaved her unconscious form into a nearby boat, paddles resting at its side. I picked them up and travelled off from the port itself, seeking out the far shore of Killeen, struggling to pull the body from the oaken structure. I laid her upon the beach and moments after such, she woke. I didn’t wish her to wake but unfortunately she had done so.

 

I brought a hand down to comb through her tangled, subtly stained locks and unsheathed my blade, speaking to her as gently and reassuringly as possible. I apologized, then, climbing atop her form. She screamed. She screamed for someone to help but she was miles away from anyone else but myself. I simply put the hand over her mouth, my Lord, took the knife and carved your sigil into the flesh of her torso. Then I drowned her.

 

She lacked the energy to fight back. She was weak. All I had to do was reel her into the shore’s surf and hold her down by her shoulders, under the surface. It didn’t take much time, my Lord- her life escaped quickly. I watched her as she passed, up until her last moments and I apologized, for it had to be done. I closed her eyes, tugged her back into the boat and heaved two stones in. I keep rope with me often. I paddled out back into the ocean, tied the stones to her ankles and pushed her off. I watched as she sunk to the depths- then I left. I went back home.

 

It had been done.”

 

The young woman arose expressionless as she concluded the occurrence, exhaling a rigid, bitter sigh as she clasped her hands, awaiting the response of the elder without further speech. He gifted her a paternal, sincere grin, ambling forth to place his own hands atop her shoulders, the archaic soul presenting ashen, colourless orbs. “You’ve done well, my dear. You will be rewarded accordingly. In a year’s time, your blessing will show itself true. Remember, my dearest girl- be patient. I haven’t failed you or the boy, have I?”

 

Reticence emanated inside the outlandish, heretical cave the duo stood within, a noiseless dip of her head providing an appropriate response to the aging fellow’s query. With the meet concluded, the onyx-haired girl departed from the familiar residence with a confident, level-headed gait, humming a foreign, melodic tune to aid her leave.

 

“A horrible dream,” she murmured to nobody in particular, scanning the candle-lit room she rested within, turning back on her side to doze off back into the land of fragile, fabricated visions.

 

[Amduscias 1]

The wintry air that blew through the Savoyard estate of Candilan penetrated a sullen youth to his core. He mulled over the circumstance of the eve, forlorn and cheerless with but the presence of a tall flagon of sanguine liquor to afford him only fleeting respite from the languish that he found himself mired in. She’s been gone for days.. weeks; Another errand, no doubt,  he mused inwardly, a breathless sigh escaping betwixt craggy, dried lips. The man’s gaze fell to the earthenware cup he nursed in his grasp, staring into the crimson substance it bore with an expression reflecting pensive contemplation. He drank himself to bed that night, naught but a lone thought clouding his mind.

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Moved to the Archive. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.