Defining Moments 4rd of Spring AV 511 In life, there are hundreds of moments that define who we become. Moments that we live for and moments that haunt our dreams eternally. Some say a man is more than the sum of his actions. However, that rarely rings true when one is honest with their own heart. No tragedy leaves us without scars, and the taste of victory is not easily washed from our mouths. It is not always momentous occasions that stay with us. It can be a simple act of kindness from an unsuspected stranger, or a biting remark from the closest of friends. It is not hard to see why some would view life simply as an attempt to survive. Few wish to face the events of their past, but for some, there is no choice. Ronin awoke from his slumber in a cold sweat. His arms and legs were shaking beyond his control, and a small trickle of blood ran from his nose. His face was whiter than the sheet on his bed. He had relived it again. At first, the dreams had been nightly. For almost a year he had lived like this, barely sleeping, barely functioning. Then, by the kindness of a total stranger, he had been made to come to terms with what had happened. Since then, Ronin had only had this dream twice. Tonight made three times. He sat up and slid his feet onto the floor. The cold contact made them shake even worse, and he reached for the Bryda he had left on the floor nearby the night before. Ronin got dressed and threw on his Katinu, not because he was going outside, but for the warmth. With a quiet petter-patter, Ronin shuffled out the door and down the hall. He didn't know where he was going or even why, but he knew he had to go somewhere. He could not face sleep again tonight, he had lost the battle with his dreams one too many times. Ronin had not been paying attention to where he was going, and eventually he ended up in the Courtyard of the Sky. From here he could see that the moon was directly above him. He knew he should be in bed, because he had work to do the next day, but he ignored his better judgement and stayed. Looking across the room, he noticed the bench were he had spent that first day of clarity with Raiyari after the incident. He knew the place was not what had cured his of his nightmares before, but he was out of options. He shuffled to the bench and sat down. Maybe it was because it was night, or maybe the past year had not been good to the courtyard, but as Ronin sat there he could not help but feel different from the last time he had been on that bench. His surroundings were no longer calming, but rather they seemed sinister and ominous. The pale light reflecting off the moon was barely enough to see twenty paces in front of oneself. Ronin finally noticed the blood dripping from his nose as a drop cascaded off his lip and landed in the palm of his hand. He stared into the crimson dot that is in such sharp contrast with the pale skin around it. When the moonlight hit his eyes, Ronin could see their reflection in the tiny pool of blood. He stared into it in a almost hypnotic trance. Slowly, his eyes fluttered closed and he slumped forward, asleep. The momentum of falling forward carried him to the cold floor, which he hit with a crack and a dull thump. Even this did not wake him. He had already been transported back to the prison his mind kept waiting for him; His single most defining moment, his crystal clear memories of Maisa. |