#solo drabble
BUT OH, to carry the weight of an age-old wrath, sorrow and ache upon shoulders as small as her own.
she remembered.
she remembered it all far too well for those bittersweet memories which she tried to accept as necessary and yet, at the same time, wished she could simply forget. Lips were parted, but nothing came out of them: not a sound, nor a breath.
andnot even a pained whimper at the way the seven h̶o̶l̶y̶ crosses on her forehead burned on her skin, more and more, the deeper she fell into that subconsciousness she both despised and adored.
the first times weren’t as bad as some would describe; or so she thought: repetitive nightmares, which stuck to this day with her, suddenly took over nights that soon enough, became sleepless in an attempt to avoid looking atIT in its hollow eyes. Little did she know at the time, though, that to force herself to stay awake over and over and over again, would prove itself to do more harm than good.
her body, however, pulled merciless pranks on her by throwing her back against her will when it could no longer withstand the lack of rest ━
━ and into that dark void of a world, DEVOID of sensation and DEVOID of reality was she again, and back was the feeling of choking on her own breath and tears, back was the soulless creature holding her by her neck and screaming at her in a tongue she couldn’t grasp, nor understand, before it carved on her flesh, with its own bare fingers, seven crosses across her forehead.
alas, the Dreams refused to dream. With all her might, but it was to no avail: for if it couldn’t disarm her and show her the reality of this world while she was unconscious, then it would shove it down her throat, in the material plane.
and so, hallucinations didn’t take too long to haunt her: A look in the mirror was unbearable, to catch but a glimpse of her reflection, distorted and faceless, was akin to bloodied knuckles and shattered glass, yet another attempt to escape a fate that was inevitable, unavoidable, impeding.
voices filled her ears and rang within an exhausted mind, come to us, they called, come back, they pleaded, and she ignored, despite the sharp pain and the feeling of restlessness that followed suit.
DON’T IGNORE US, they ordered once she didn’t listen, and if at first those vocals only sounded desperate, then as time went by they got angrier, then furious, then livid; much like a rabid dog, foaming at the mouth, living within the confines of her skull and barking to be released from its prison.
delusions of a sleep deprived heart, for sure ━ or so she tried to convince herself, right until the very last moments.
and until then, until she could close her eyes and lay in the arms of acceptance, this girl would have a long, treacherous path to cross: for the first nights were, now that she could face the abyss within her in the eyes, THE EASIEST PART.
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he truly doesn’t remember, does he?ah, the million dollar question … it did cross her fleeting mind, in the dead of the night, as navy hues observed the unfolding scene from afar. And if the ponderation itself HURT, then the answer, that promptly came, wasDESPAIRING:hedid not , for a fact.
andoh,she knew so, but that didn’t ease the weight on her chest, nor the way her heartclenched everytime she saw him; the ghost of the man he once had been.Mana was no longer, or at least, not in the way she remembered him as. And now, what else could she do but wait? for days, weeks, months and years, all that the ninth, the SHEEP THAT WIELDED THE DREAMS OF NOAH, could do, waswaitfor the inevitable to happen: for him to rememberwho he was and what was his purpose.
the gene always awakened, eventually. And they always remembered.
NOAH DOESN’T SLEEP FOR TOO LONG WITHIN HIS HOSTS.
theMILLENIUM EARL. the one who would bring this world to its demise, the one who’s done it once and who’ll do it again, inescapably. The one who devouredhis own other half. ❝ Don’t stop, keep walking, ❞ he had said, before his life was stolen from him. And he didn’t stop, but he also didn’t recall his past; because the blood that stained his hands was so unbearable (and so desired, at the same wicked time) that he forced himself to forget what he had done. Destroyed the face of ❝ Mana ❞ and replaced it. Destroyed the memories. REPRESSED THE GENE.
ah, the courageit must’ve taken him to go as far as erasing his own identity impressed her greatly, and she couldn’t say she blamed him, really ━ how could she? ━ for the weight of his brother’s death in his shoulders was far too heavy in comparison to the mental torture the pierrot, who lived in a faux state of peace, put himself through all over again.
if only she could ease his nightmaresor the unsettlingsensation that something important was lacking or the shadows that seemed to watch over him at night, creeping, lurking, waiting FOR A CHANCE TO STRIKE … if she could ease all that, she would.
BUT SHE COULD NOT. NOT UNTIL HE REMEMBERED.
until then, there was nothing she could do. It’d be useless, anyway; nothing but a waste of energy. All she could do was checking on him every once in a while to see if there was any evolution on his awakening. And that was preciselywhat had brought her, at such ungodlyhour in the night, to the outskirts of the campsite of the GARVEY CIRCUS TROUPE.
what had motivated Mana to join a circus as a pierrot, she did not know: but it’d be a lie to say that it wasn’t ironic. A sad, lunatic clown that ingenuously lives in his own reality; as though in a limbo between what’s realand what’s not quite. It’d also be a blatant lie to say that it didn’t take her a great ammount of time to discover his whereabouts after he vanished without a trace, and not only because of how his features had drastically changed, but theBOND between hosts ran far too deep in their veins.
another thought that left a bitter taste in her mouth and caused a frown to form itself upon delicate features and a shiver to trickle down her spine: that had been why Nea couldn’t hide for long, after all.
andsometimes, the ninth apostle couldn’t help but wonder( for her heart did not only ache for one, but for BOTH) if he had fulfilled his promise of returning. She liked to believe he did, or that he would, but there wasn’t a trace of the fourteenth anywhere.
nor in her DREAM, nor in the physical realm.
life is made of uncertainty, though, is it not? And thus, no matter how the perspective of being reunited with Nea once again caused a torrent of feelings to wash over her, Road Kamelot didn’t waste too much time dwelling on that idea. The world, to her knowing eyes, was nothing but an endless chain of action and reaction; where free willandfate constantly clashed and waltzed together, trying to escape and contradict each other in an endless loop that she had seen far too many times.
and far too many times had she been awfully amused by the choices humans made and by the mistakes they kept falling into. Just like she was on that moment, heeled shoes clacking softly against a ground that had been cleaned from the snow that covered it a few hours before, as she made her slow way towards the tall and mighty circus tent.
one thing was for sure; he hadn’t lost the kindness that had always been part of him, not yet, at least. Sometimes he was alone, with a dog that went by ❝ allen ❞;other times, gradually more often than not, he was accompanied by a kid that had, most likely, been bought by the ringmaster. Red was the name she had heard others calling him, out of spite and out of sheer rage, and while she knew how to recognize INNOCENCE when she saw it, this one didn’t seem to want anything to do with its bearer.
which was, as far as she had been concerned, good and bad ━ it couldn’t hurt Mana, on the one hand, but on the other, it also confirmed that she’d still have a long time to wait until she could bring him back.
Mana didn’t seem to be bothered by it, either; for there wasn’t any sort of adverse reaction to the present of such a thing so close. And this despite the beaten up child’s protests against his attempts of affection ( did he know anything else other than ireandhatredtossed his way? ) and how particularly fond he seemed to be growing of him.
he seemed genuinely happy with the kid’s company.
AND SHE WOULDN’T BE THE ONE STEALING THAT JOY FROM HIM.
not when life would do that, sooner than later, she thought to herself, as she halted her march and adjusted the thick cloak closer around her petite bodice.
seen from up close, it was impressive how HUGE the circus actually was: beyond the main pavillion, the one where the shows were presented and repeated to death almost every night, a quick look around put into evidence the three smaller tents that surrounded it, as well as the lion’s cages. Other than her lonely steps, there was barely any other sound in the air; apart from the ocasional snore from inside any of the make-do cots or the cutting, bone chilling wind that whistled by and recklessly agitated trees and fabric with its passage.
she was alone, then. The one she sought wasn’t in sight, so she could only assume he’d be sleeping ( or trying to ) inside one of those tents with his precious, loyal companion. This had been the first time she had been so close to him, since thirty five years ago,hadn’t it? Despite being on her own, and despite how he ignored her existence ( AS HE SHOULD ), being there, running a dainty appendage through the shelter, brought a sense of peace to her errantheart.
HE WAS STILLFAMILY.
regardless of how she’d like to ( mayhaps ) stay for longer, she had already seen what she needed to and put her mind to a rest. So she figured she should be on her way back; it had already been a risk to get so close ( what if he was risen from his slumber by her presence? what if she triggered his memory earlier than what it was supposed to? ) but curiositynever killed this cat before.
who could have guessed that it’d be this onetime?as a sigh escaped past pale chasms, Road’s hand slowly slipped down the dusty fabric and she gracefully spun on her heels. And as she did, she realised thatsheWASN’Ton her own, after all. Although a glimpse of surprise might have been noticed upon her visage and posture, which tensed up momentarily, such a look was immediately replaced by a rather soft, almostgentle, simper across her lips.
what a child was doing up at that hour, she didn’t know, but she wasn’t asking either. A few feet away from her, staring at her with an emotion she couldn’t quite grasp ( was it fear? confusion? curiosity? ),stoodRed, silent.
It would have been easier to simply vanishwithout a word; it would have been easierto write it off in the youngster’s mind as their little secret, and yet, maybe because of HOW this child had been treated his entire life, maybe because he seemed so upset by her presence, Road decided to instead approach him.
and when she was close enough to crouch in front of him, she held out to him a colorful lollipop. It was all she had on her, at the moment, so a sugary treat would have to suffice to at least ease him.
━ ❝here,❞ she said, dulcet tones soft and barely louder than a whisper. ━ ❝ do you like candy? ❞
