| Blind devotion, empty notions. Like a roaring ocean slowing motion, we'll merge into the masses. At once all race and classes. Return me to stardust, we'll burn ourselves to ashes, flare up in gleaming flashes 'cause smoke lingers after fire. Fading, breaking down, but we'll rendezvous at: the end, my friend and light. The darkness left behind. Return me to stardust.. Smoke lingers after fire. Lay down your troubled mind..>/div> we'll kindly cease to be. As we intertwine with the universe;Return me to stardust.. Smoke lingers after fire |
Tranquil, this location named ‘peace village’—Serenity and sympathy sung throughout this village, it felt eternal and quite profound, the pleasantness. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the atmosphere that ‘summoned’ her here, it was something more vigor, it was an.. Ambition. A goal.. A possible dream? An elderly figure desired that of a story, a book of her past and the memories that barely kept narrowly escaping her wits—So familiar, but quite undistinguished. It must’ve been ages. Clung to remote pieces, the words escaped and only the fragments of an appearance of an object was left; the clue a gold spine and a child’s fairytale—Perception change with generations, thus the past is left unearth, however, some older books are classic for a reason, maybe, this book was a classical?
Worn, rustic and yet warm, the exterior held itself well-aged, welcoming, yet it felt so forgotten, or atleast, quiet.. Such a wondrous library—An Interior held held mostly to wooden floors, window ceilings, the sun was the light and to add, plants and flowers added an atmosphere almost unearthly, the sound of streaming water.. That was different. Indepth, beyond the entrance to such a place, out of sight and no doubt, out of mind, where books laid forgotten and possibly a myth—Hiding away, possibly lost, titles from the eons found themselves stacked, left to collect dust, to some, decay with time. However, with time, things are left to change and to these shelves. Beyond the thousand, books of the past coated in dust, sat in a sleep, or awhile in wait to be needed, to be discovered again... Between these shelves, within this row that held itself dimly lit, a sole spirit wandered, lingered.
To look upon this figure, it was female and to this, her name was simple, Aioai, to the night she walked, with the the home she didn’t have, her surname Nightstray—Once a star in the sky, a spirit bound to earth and with her, she had a key and to a past, beyond this earth, she had forgot.. She was only left to wander aimlessly, or atleast, she felt that way. So many things, she could say she didn’t know and to who and what she was, surely that was one; she hid herself like a human, however, she knew she was far different from that. Strings colored white with a hint of vanilla, these strings called hair found themselves tied to a huge braid down her back, but kept to her right shoulder for comfort against the wooden frame. Attired in a traditional mage fashion, she wore a robe of some type, along with ebony stained white wraps, found both along her arms and legs, her feet being bare, yet her base food to heel were wrapped, but to all wrap, was a glitter residue and quite a weird one; almost like dried blood?
Aside from her fingers and toes, along with her face, she kept herself completely covered—Twinkling from the shades, the shadows, casually, sparkles by the dozen danced, almost like the stars in a night’s sky, something else shined from this figure in the shadow.. A visor, almost, if not the shape of a crown, it held itself a type of silver, but it twinkled like glitter under a light, clear stones of an unknown origin found themselves embedded into this unique unearthly metal—Even within the shadows, it seemed to gleam. Must like everything on her body, it masked majority of her face, leaving only the nose and mouth exposed. How weird, surely she wasn’t blind? A blind in the library? Little to those known, circled around this figure, around Aioai, magic lingered and sometimes, it felt unpleasant and most avoided her, corruption followed her, but within this feeling, there was something pure in it’s own rite; not all dark lead to evil, as not all light leads to good.
As the time passed, the shelves of this row found themselves being empty, book by book slowly stacked, littering the floor and to the air, dust danced ever blissfully. Books stacked waist high, some in shorter stacks than those around it, all in common, each book held a golden spine; various wear and tear, some new, some old. To this spirit, unbeknownst to this figure, someone else happened to be on the same quest, and not even two rows away from them. Reposed against a hazel-wooden frame, the figure leaned, both quiet and concentrated, gripped within her elegant fingers of her right hand, her palm balanced a book as she simply read—“To you. Do not concern, ever-on. Even without my stead, to the touch forever gone. I beg. Never cease, never lose, never forget your smile.” Using an inside voice, she spoke as if she was reading to someone, or to something, a voice of a female held enchanting in it’s own way, a simple elegant way and yet, her tone was smooth as silk; sadness molded into brilliance—To each word she spoke, it was as if she, herself, was saying these words as a final goodbye. The soft-speaking voice echoed, carried like a whisper in the wind, gentle and soft. Her left index and middle finger pressed to her near temple, pressed against the visor, as if she was holding it. Her soft rosy lips murmur once more. Right index finger placed itself against page, her pinky and thumb closing the book as she looked to the front cover“A heartfelt good-bye.. It doesn’t feel like the book.. She was looking for..” She said. it was the name of the cover, it seemed rather ‘mature’ for a fairy tale book.. But maybe.. This was the one? No.. It lacked something... She didn't feel anything special... Like all the books she read, to the hundreds laid along the floor. She could only murmur once more.
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Health: ?? •
Mana: ?? •
Theme: Link •
Aioai:
Link •
Picture: Link