Bough's Roses

[MakeshiftFoxxo 182]

 

 

~x~

 

"Euleriphis Bough.."

A voice called out to the seated elf. A rustle heard before the elf's eyes opened. Around him was a warm forest, a path not too many meters to the right. The sun bore down upon his features as he took the scenery in around him. He had stopped questioning this shift in scenery. As he turned his head to the familiar voice; furthermore, one voice that had stayed familiar after so many years. As he turned, he noticed his hair was shorter, and this discovery lead to him gazing at his arm. It was smaller, less defined. His thoughts were then disrupted.

 

"What are you doing out here?"

 

The voice held it's usual soft tone. The young elf had come to enjoy the tone, as he figured the old man could not hold any anger in his wise tone. The elf spoke in a higher voice than he had heard himself in awhile, standing as he did so.

 

"I'm jus' enjoyin' the weather, papa. Rain's on th' horizon, ya know?"

 

He'd note that he had been sitting with his legs crossed, hands resting on his knees. He'd heard of people that did that for hours at a time, but could never understand why. Perhaps he would know many years down the line. He'd turn his head in just enough time to see the elderly human make his way to him. "I know, Little Bough. Rain's comin', and we need to be on our way." His hand had extended as he spoke, to which the young elf would take the hand. They had been on the road for many years, and always stopped in any town they could for a night in the tavern. Their refreshment night is what they called it.

 

The elderly man took the elf's hand; having already packed, thus they didn't need to go back to their makeshift camp of the morning. Their walking had been something they were used to, and they found many ways to make it a rather fun trip, even if the walk or weather was unpleasant. Today, they were in more of a hurry. They did not wish to be rained on.

 

Though as they walked, and the world above them began to grey, things would become silent. The silence before the storm, the young elf figured. He began to feel his arm become wet. Perhaps the rain had started. He looked up to the sky and spoke, a twinge of excitement in his voice. The young elf loved the rain, and could often be found frolicking in the rain.

 

"Papa, it's rainin'!" He spoke, a grin on his features.

 

There was no response. And the young elf's features twisted in confusion as he turned his gaze to the ground.

 

No sign of rain was on the ground they walked. He shook his head, swearing he was able to hear the drip of rain. The silence of any lack of response hung heavy in the air.

 

"Papa?"

 

He spoke again, beginning to turn towards his father. His gaze moved from the ground, to his father's feet. They weren't moving anymore, and without realizing it, he had stopped moving as well. He took a deep breathe, and his face began to pale. The world began to feel heavy as he heard the source of the 'rain' he had heard earlier. At his father's feet, between himself and his son, was a trail of a dark liquid that no human wished to see. He felt his world begin to disperse, as he turned his gaze up. All he could see was his own bloodied arm, having been connected to his father's by the holding of their hand. The blood shared between their arms, originating from somewhere the elf didn't know. It could be his, or it could be his father's. His head had began to hurt and his world blurring as he couldn't help but let out a blood curdling scream.

 

~x~

 

"Papa!"

Roui had screamed as he felt the world he had found himself in to dissipate. He stared, blurry eyed at the world infront of him. It had gone dark for a moment, as the elf found himself back in the position he had been in. Sitting on the ground, legs crossed and hands resting down on his knees. He would finally be able to see again as the flame of the St. Amyas Hospital's fireplace. He would close his eyes, the tears falling down to his lap. He shook his head, letting his head hang. He could smell the iron of blood upon his nose, his blood. And when he opened his eyes for a brief moment, he saw that the blood was upon his lap. But when he bat his clothing to try to clean himself, the blood didn't come off nor onto his hands.

 

With a blurry gaze, he would stand and depart from the clinic. His face was pale, and the world around him tinted with the drips of random blood. From walls, to the surfaces and the sky, everything seemed to hold this tint that nobody else could see.

 

"Why..?"

 

Spoiler

Hello to you, dear reader. If you're reading this, then you've either scrolled past my story or have already read through it. For now, I'm going to give just a small explanation on the context of this post, and further posts in this thread.

 

Roui de Melphestaus, my character, has been through quite a bit. Some of it hasn't been truly fleshed out and some of it has. Through these stories, I wish to just delve into some creative writing's of his hallucinations, his dreams, and such like that. He's gotten into meditation and such, so this is going to be a bunch of mini-stories and things to explain and flesh out my characters.

 

Love you all! <3