[Flashback] The Spark (Solo)

by **Aello** on February 4th, 2012, 3:00 am

Summer 63, 507 AV

Lucien stepped through the sweltering heat. The wavering tendrils of steam which seemed to rise from the world's earthen bed. The stone which seemed to litter the side of his path, closest to the sea. In his large hands, grown rough with the work he carried out on a day to day basis, was a large glass jar, which contained a nearly clear liquid. As he moved, it would slosh up against the side of the jar, threatening to break loose, if only the lid had not been put in place. "Petching liar down at the docks," Lucien groaned through grit teeth. "Never said anything about it being this petching heavy," he muttered, as he pushed up against the bottom of the jar with his hands, easing it a little higher. Leaning into it a little, so he could use his chest to help support its weight.

But then again, it's a long ways from there. This bloody thing must only seem heavy now in the heat. With the time that has passed, Lucien thought, as he caught sight of his family's cottage up ahead. Relieved, he was surprised to find that he could quicken his pace, with Syna's light pushing down on him with all of its force. All of its intensity, causing his face to redden a bit as his brow became soaked by his salty sweat. As he moved, he could hear the waves crashing into the coast, gulls calling overhead as he crossed the expanse to his front door. When he got there, he eased the jar down onto the ground, careful not to let it fall and break as he forced the door open, and then picked it up. He moved through the threshold into the cottage, only to kick the door shut behind him before walking over to the kitchen, ignoring his wife's calls, which seemed little more than shrill laughter, or perhaps the shrieking of some strange monster of late.

Lucien crossed his home in a few strides, reaching the curled strip of kitchen counters easily. He dropped the jar on the counter and turned to his wife, realizing that she could no longer be ignored. "A surprise for you," Lucien replied, to her question about the contents of his jar. The man's eyes sparkling as he crossed the room to his wife, and stopped behind her. His arms trailing about her waist. As he rested his big hands on her hip bones, her favorite place, he thought he could hear a sharp inhalation of breath as her body grew somewhat stiff. Rigid as a board. His wife was always getting like that when she was surprised, and it had always bothered him. As he drew his chest close, and let it rest against her back, he pressed his hands more firmly into her sides, thinking that her flesh gave way too much, and despite the sweltering heat of the season, she had grown too cold. As cold as they were.

Lucien could feel his hot breath bouncing off the back of Myrrh's neck, and buffeting his lips. His nostrils, carrying the scent of his lunch. It disgusted him, for his lunch smelled like fish. Of rotting flesh. Of death. Uneasy with himself, the hunter leaned forward, and brushed his wife's hair away with his nose. Slowly, he trailed kisses down the length of her neck, to the top of her shoulder. The way she had always liked. The way he had always done throughout life, to please her. But now her body curled away, tore away as though she knew. Her heart seemingly growing as cold as her flesh. As uninviting as he found it now.

"Lucien!" Myrrh purred as he pulled his head away, releasing her from his hold, in part. To him it sounded more like a hiss, but he knew, his wife was trying to show him something. Her heart; what was left of it.

"What is it my love?" Lucien whispered, his voice sounding nearly breathless. So very hot.

"Can we continue this... a little later?" Myrrh asked, as she bit her bottom lip.

"Of course," Lucien replied, as he withdrew his hands, and moved back to his jar. "I have to work on your surprise anyway." Myrrh merely nodded in response. Lucien was thankful, he hated when she spoke. He hated how, once upon a time, he had enjoyed it. But now, every word that left her mouth seemed like a hiss. Seemed like it dripped with disdain, with a spider's venom.

Swiftly, Lucien crossed the kitchen to the counter. He raised his hands and pressed them against the side of the jar, and then, pushed it towards, him, off the counter. He heard it scrape just before he took a step back, and watched it tumble away. Swirling through the air, silently until it made impact with the hard wood floor. The glass shattering into what seemed hundreds of pieces. The liquid dripping off the jagged ends, oozing out of the openings, and seeping into the floor. To himself, Lucien smiled as he heard his wife jump.

"Everything alright?" Myrrh asked, as she turned to look at her husband.

Lucien nodded. "Yeah, it must have just slipped," he said with a shrug, as Myrrh began to move away from her things, and over to him. Lucien waved her away. "Don't worry about this honey, you're busy. Just finish your baking and I'll tend to this." Myrrh nodded, as Lucien grabbed a towel off the rack, and slipped it into his pocket, before picking up all the glass shards and depositing them into the bin. He thought he had gotten them all, or at the very least, most of the shards. Shrugging, he pulled the towel out of his pocket, and lowered it onto the floor. He pressed his palm against the worn fabric, as he swept it across the wood, pushing the liquid around. Forcing it to slip through the cracks, spread across the floor.

After a time, Lucien straightened himself out, and deposited the towel on the counter, before moving off, into other portions of the house, leaving his wife alone, to bake.

by **Aello** on February 4th, 2012, 3:23 am

Lucien's feet pounded across the hard wood floor as he moved out of the kitchen and into the hallway, which connected each of the bedrooms within the cottage. First, the man came to Aello's room. The only room in the house with no lock on the door. The only one that could ever prove to be a problem.

Quickly, thinking his step too great, the hunter forced himself to quiet down as he approached the room and extended his hand towards the knob. He turned it all the way to the right, before pushing it open slowly. He could hear it creaking. Inwardly, Lucien cringed, his eyes shutting tightly, before he forced them open again, to see if his daughter had noticed.

From the narrow slit he had created, a window into his daughter's word, Lucien could see that she hadn't. That in fact, she was asleep, making this far easier on him, for he wouldn't have to find a way to get around the lack of a lock. For her slumber, for Nysel and her blankets, would keep her trapped. Smiling to himself, he watched his daughter a moment, her chest rising and falling. His green gaze settling on her lips. Slightly parted in slumber. Her closed eyes, fluttering as though she were having a bad dream. Her hands bunched about the top of her blankets, pulling them closer to her chin, as though that would protect her.

She is growing up too be far too dangerous, Lucien's mind whispered as he backed away from the door, and eased it shut, almost inaudibly, behind him. Certain that she would not wake up, Lucien moved down the hall to his son's room. He knew he was inside, without having to so much as open the door, for he could hear Leon shouting. Screaming several things about how feared he would be. Laughing silently to himself, Lucien's eyes couldn't help but sparkle, for he knew, of his children, Leon was the least dangerous, and the least likely to ever become so. Aello simply had too much more sense on her shoulders. Too much grace, in comparison to his son. Clumsy. Never listening, never really respecting him.

But it didn't matter now, none of it mattered now.

Shaking his head lightly to himself, Lucien extended his hand towards the doorknob, and slowly, twisted the small metal strip that rested in the middle, locking his son's door from the outside. There was a soft click as the lock fell into place, bracing the door. His smile widened, that should do, he thought as he slipped away, almost certain his son hadn't noticed. He rarely did when his thoughts swept him away. And now... there is only you...

Lucien crossed the hall with ease, backing into his room, practically running over to his bed side table, and pulling open the drawer. There was only one thing inside, a small box, which he swept up in an instant, and tucked into his pocket. Patting it into place, the man moved back out of his room, and headed down the hall, towards the front door. He opened it easily, and slipped outside, circling his house until he hung over the kitchen window.

There Lucien would lay in wait, until the opportune moment.

by **Aello** on February 4th, 2012, 6:12 pm

Lucien waited for several chimes, thinking simply, of where his things were, that little split in a nearby tree. Everything was there, everything he needed. Everything he could ever need. Thinking that it'd be all too easy to disappear into the darkness, the chaos cast by sheer insanity, he chuckled to himself, his eyes flashing as he waited, only to find that the scent of smoke had begun to reach his nostrils, and if he listened, he could hear the roar of a fire.

The first flame has been lit, Lucien thought as he fished the small box out of his pocket, and tore off the lid. His large fingers fumbling against the short wooden sticks as he ripped one away, and walked towards the back of his house. At that point, his eyes seemed to catch fire as he pushed the rounded knob against the rough paper, lighting the match and flicking it, nonchalantly, towards his house, before rounding a bend, and doing the same, watching as these areas too, caught fire.

Lucien's eyes reflected the fire as it stretched towards the sky. Roaring as it grew, begging to be fed. Pillars of smoke rose out of the windows, spiraling towards the sky. Marking his old cottage as condemned, and anyone still caught inside. Anyone still alive. A satisfied smirk crossed his lips as he whispered his farewell to his trouble-making family, and backed away from his house, disappearing into a thin line of trees, one of which hid his things, his key to a new life.

Little did he know however, that he had failed. That his daughter, Aello, had already made her way outside with one of his bows, and his quiver filled with arrows. Little did Lucien know that she lay out front, losing consciousness. Her mind dancing as her fingers wove through the thick green grass. The undersides of her palm tickled by the fronds, wet by the thin bed of dew that still clung to them for dear life. Little did he know that her nostrils flared with the stink of smoke, and the thick, summer air. The heat. The grass and dirt beneath her.

Little did Lucien know that Aello had lived.

by **Aello** on February 5th, 2012, 1:18 am

Aello's nails dug into the warm earth. The terrain seemed to sink beneath her touch. The ground rising to meet her only in that the dirt she displaced became lodged in her fingernails. Blackening them, as her fingers wove between blade upon blade of bright green grass. The edges tickled, but she could scarcely feel it, as her head swam, as her eyes grew heavier. She pushed her feet lightly against the ground, and moved her arms a little, willing herself onward, and away from the fire. But she seemed to gain no ground.

Just...

The world went black as the ghosts came, running out of the smoke. Their misty tendrils of white curling into the blackness as they floated over to the world beyond. Into the light, for the first time in their new life. "Aello!" Leon screamed as he spotted his older sister unconscious, seemingly cold. "Get up!" Leon yelled, his eyes growing wide as he stared down at her. "Get up! You can't let the fire get you!"

The young ghost stomped his feet and simply stared at his sister, waiting for her to stir. But Aello did not wake. "Come on Aello!" Leon screamed. "You can't die too!" As the words left the ghost's lips, Leon lifted his leg and thrust it at his sister's side, hoping to rouse and annoy her, as he had done plenty of times before, in life. But his leg went right through her flesh. The chill of it, going unnoticed in her absence from herself.

Startled, Leon pulled his leg back, and then pushed it towards his older sister again, as though testing his eyes. But the same thing happened, his body went right through hers, and off in the distance, the fire still crackled. Still threatened to come closer. "Come on Aello, wake up," Leon pleaded, as Myrrh came to a halt behind him, and stared lovingly down at her daughter. Marveling at the pale nature of her features, how she seemed to be at peace. Asleep.

Not noticing his mother in his fright, Leon backed up a few paces, and then ran for his sister, his arms swinging, until his body glided right through her. Startled, as he put his foot down and came to a halt, Leon turned around to face his sister; his mother. "What do we do?" Leon asked. "She'll die if she stays here." Myrrh simply shook her head, she didn't know.

by **Aello** on February 5th, 2012, 3:23 am

Fred stood silently in the attic, his hands folded behind his back as he surveyed his domain. His home, which those living had come to know. Which those living would soon come to haunt as well, if it pleased them. It did not come as a surprise to him, everything that had come to pass. A part of him had already known. Could see the darkness that had seeped into Lucien's heart. The thundering clouds. He could see the insecurity that had taken hold, insecurity his presence had contributed to. But, although that may have been the case, there was nothing he could have done, or could do to change the cottage's fate. The family's fate. It was simply, too late.

The present was pressing onward, slinking silently into the future as Fred watched it unfold. As he viewed, idly, Lucien's form receding into a patch of trees, as Aello's form came to a halt on the other side of the house. She had fallen, overcome by the smoke and flame that billowed out around him. Encompassing his form as it swallowed his house, slowly but surely. Licking its lips, the soft painted edges. The icing, before it went in for another bite. For something far more substantial. All the more meaningful to them all.

Shaking his head lightly, the old ghost sighed. The sound of it, the gentle release of some of his essence, being lost past the crackling of the fire. Its deafening roar as a wooden beam from the roof collapsed, falling through him in a silent whoosh, before it smashed with a monumental thud across the floor. Shattering into several charred bits. Wisps of ash, broken black wings, falling into the corners of the room, to be burnt away along with the family's belongings. Mountains of dust.

When will the heart of a human prove more than weak? Fred wondered, as he floated over to the far end of the attic. When will one stay pure even when darkness sets in around it? When will darkness overcome those that have not seen?

Shaking his head even more furiously, Fred peered at Aello on the ground. At the two ghosts which had come to stand by her. He thought he recognized them, from his occasional venture into the lower portions of the cottage, but he wasn't absolutely sure. "It must be them... the new ones," he whispered, as he floated through the crumbling wall, and then sank down, towards the ground, in front of the house. He landed with an inaudible sigh. His mist billowing angrily out about him, as the boy asked his mother something. Something the ghost couldn't quite hear.

Shrugging, he floated closer and glanced down at the girl. "There must be something we can do," Leon pleaded, as Fred stopped beside Myrrh. "Something that can be done to save her." Again Myrrh shook her head, as the ghost's gaze passed from one to the other.

Fred cleared his throat, causing both Leon and his mother to turn to him. "Who are you?" Leon asked.

"It doesn't matter," Fred replied, as he glided forward, and knelt down over Aello, before lowering his head, allowing his body to fall into hers. Slowly, he forced her eyes open. They seemed heavy, for they didn't want to budge, causing the ghost to wonder if she'd truly see anything. If she'd remember this moment, forever and for always, just as he would do. Shaking her head out, the ghost pushed up against her hands, bringing Aello onto her knees. He could no longer see the other ghosts, as he bothered to look around, as he reached for the bow and arrows she had taken, knowing she wouldn't want to lose them, despite everything.

After he brought them closer, and held them in her hands, Fred brought Aello to her feet, and like a master pulling the strings of his puppet, raised her right leg high, before placing it back down, and then raised her left leg, before putting it back down. Her body wobbled awkwardly, as though she had broken at the ankles, as Fred repeated this process over and over again. But he didn't care how unstable she seemed. All that mattered to him as that one of them, was kept alive, and Aello was the only one with a chance.

So Fred kept her going, as tiring as he found it, until he had brought her beneath the shade of a younger oak tree. Once there, he dropped her things in a neat pile, against a section of gnarled roots, and slowly, lowered her form. Curled it into a crescent, the shape of a cat in slumber. He tucked her arms beneath her head, and closed her eyes, before stepping away. Sleep well little one, Fred thought. You never deserved this...

The ghost remained, standing over the girl for a time watching her chest rising and falling, her face growing all the more pale, and perhaps a little green, until the others found their way to him. Knowing that they would show themselves to him again, the ghost could only smile as he looked up into the face of Aello's mother, and her brother. There was such a startling resemblance between them all, that it took his breath away.

"Thank you," Myrrh told him, as Leon knelt beside his sister, running his ghostly hand over her hair, unable to touch it. To feel the strands brush up against him. How soft and smooth they were. How frail, and easily plucked away from her head.

Fred said nothing as he watched her, as he watched the boy, for several chimes, as the fire grew, the house sinking in on itself. Heaving with pain as the fire kept on going. "Look after her for me," the ghost said after a time, as he took a step back. "She'll awaken soon," he added, as he took another step away from the madness. I hope she never knows, he thought, as he tilted his head back, and burst into thousands of sparkling lights. Shards of the sun.

"What happened to the other ghost mama?" Leon asked, as he turned away from his sister.

"I don't know baby," Myrrh replied, as she came to kneel beside her son. "All I know is that I hope your father is ok. I didn't see him anywhere..."

"Dad will be fine, he's strong," Leon insisted, bringing a small smile to his mother's paling lips. The smile made Leon smile, as he turned back to his sister. "Mama, lets watch her until she gets up, ok?"

Myrrh chuckled. "We'll watch her until the day she joins us," she replied, her voice soft. Lost in the relentless caw of a crow.

by **Paragon** on February 6th, 2012, 1:26 am

Aello :

Beautiful. We can't blame Aello for her sometimes... unusual personality now, can we? I hope the lore's are sufficiently epic, I wanted them to be something Aello can keep to remember this pivotal moment in her life. Good job - if you have ANY questions or concerns about this grading, don't hesitate to PM me.