writing
Fara stormed towards Narcus with a small dagger in her hand, pretending she had the courage to use it. As soon as she crossed the threshold into the lit hallway he uttered one arcane word and instantly her body was paralyzed by the magical weave that laced every syllable. The dagger clattered to the floor in front of Narcus. He was an elf with a thin face and short slicked back hair. Everything about him was sharp, his mustache, the pointed goatee and the wide lapels of his tailored suit. His curling lips and cutting eyes made her feel like she was being held at the point of a sword.
«So you are the one that’s been causing my friends such a headache…» Narcus laughed. «But you’re just a child!»
Fara tried to move, but her body was no longer hers to control. She felt a tear run down her cheek as she lost control of her emotions as well. Narcus wore a dangerous smile and behind him stood a hooded man covered in tattoos.
«It is quite fitting, you know, that we do the same thing to animals as we do to criminals. Well at least we used to do it, but you seem like the type to honour tradition so I think you’ll appreciate what I have in mind.” Narcus spoke in a perfectly calm and pleasant voice as he grabbed her chin and tilted her head upwards.
“A brand, to show the world just what kind of person you are.» In a rough motion he pushed her head to the side and motioned for the hooded man.
What followed was an hour of blinding pain as the hooded man tattooed something beneath her right eye. Narcus spent the whole time leaning against a wall flipping through a book, completely unmoved by the sound of Fara’s paralyzed screams. When the hooded man was done, Narcus broke concentration on the spell and Fara regained control of her body and collapsed to the floor. A drop of blood from the fresh tattoo fell from her cheek, she looked at it through swollen eyes before an expensive boot covered the stain.
«Now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?» His voice was condescendingly caring. «Sit up.»
The words were a command she had no choice but to obey. Narcus crouched down in front of her, a sickening smile on his face. Then he pulled out a small mirror and held it up in front of her, she saw herself as he saw her. A scared girl and a captured animal. Her right eye was swollen, the needle had pierced too deep and a dark purple bruise was already beginning to form. In the middle of the bruise was the unmistakable shape of a black cat.
«You might be too young to remember this, but the black cat was a mark reserved for burglars and thieves. Criminals of the worst kind, just like you. Quite suitable as well that it is a symbol of bad luck, because I don't imagine yours will improve.» He chuckled and let the smile fall from his face. «Now, get in the cage, lock it and give me the key.»
Her body did as he commanded while her mind screamed to disobey, but she had no willpower to refuse his magical influence. From inside the cage she watched them leave without a second glance in her direction. As the iron door closed behind him, she was cast into darkness once more.
Jerico ran their hands through their silver hair and struggled to fasten it with a leather cord. Small strands of hair that were neither long nor short kept sliding out as they attempted to weave them back in. They observed the hallway with narrowed eyes as a loose strand of hair tickled their nose, they blew it away with an annoyed puff of air.
“You should cut it.” Kastor said. The topic of Jericho’s hair was not new between them.
“Stop it. You know I’m growing it out,” They sighed as they tried to force loose strands back into submission ”And you know it’s tradition to not cut your hair after you get married.”
“It’s a stupid tradition,” Kastor mumbled, “and besides, your wife cuts her hair all the time.”
“Well she’s impossible. No one has ever been able to tell her what to do. Not me, nor the thousands of years of deeply rooted traditions.” Jericho finished their point and the anxious mood from before felt lighter as the two friends refocused on the task at hand.
Doctor Jarna cuts a striking figure. She has a lean frame that almost borders on malnourished and a pale face with piercing red eyes that observe the world with an analytic gaze that dissect everything around her. She exudes authority, which in moments of distress can offer comfort to patients seeking her help, or can be a reminder that she knows the most efficient ways to kill you. Despite this intimidating presence she does not meet people with malice. You can expect to see a polite smile crinkle her paper thin skin, a well practiced courtesy that you should not mistake as kindness.
It was a cold wet night as I came back to life screaming. I looked out into a pitch black night and didn’t know why I was there. My throat was raw and my mouth remained agape long after I had stopped producing a sound. Through the canopy of dark trees I saw the sky turned blue and as light illuminated the forest, I took in my surroundings for the first time. Dry eyes scratched against their sockets and my body was heavy from the weight of wet leaves that had fallen on me. I was alone in a dense forest of impossibly tall trees. A creeping panic began to spread as I realized I could not recall why I was here. My mind was a blank expanse. All I knew for certain was that I was alive, I could feel it in the creaking corners of my body. Yet without memories I had no reason to stand, I knew nothing, so I did nothing. I stayed in that place for a long time, not moving as the leaves piled ever higher, their wet earthy smell seeping into me. I didn’t think I would ever bother to move, I would die here again without ever knowing why.
What a waste of life...
That simple though settled within me, what a waste of life, and I stood up. The leaves fell away in wet flakes. To the east, long rays of sun were peaking through the trees, stretching their golden fingers into the woods like a warm hand. It was beautiful. Then, on shaky legs I took my first steps.
I walked. At some point the trees had parted, making way for a dirt road. I walked along it, the muddy surface pulling my feet deeper and deeper into it. Until suddenly, it swallowed me and with a wet impact I was back on the ground. Lying in a roadside ditch, covered in mud. I looked inwards at the infinite void of my mind and felt the vacant blackness stare back. Daring me to dig deeper, laughing at me to see if I could find even a sliver of who I was before. Abandoned by myself I felt nothing. No sadness and no hope, only the familiar scent of wet earth. My first familiar feeling.