who's to know if your soul will fade at all

the one you sold to fool the world

There was no sound of impact from far below, even long after the Thief had tossed his rock over the edge of the island. The harsh whisper of the wind drowned out any distant noise that might have reached him from so high up, and the rush of water at his side was far too loud to allow for the smallest of notes to find their way through its discourse. Even so, Roland retrieved another rock from the lip of the river, curling his lips around its smooth sides as he leaned as far into the open air as he dared. Beneath him swam a void of darkness, broken only occasionally by the thin, ghostly whisps of cloud as they tangled around the curve of the island. Beneath it all was shadow.

Before he could release the stone into the waiting darkness, the heavy thud of footfalls rose above the sound of water and drew the stallion from his foolish sport. He turned to scrutinize the horizon, and rather than a menacing beast or nefarious predator, his gaze fell upon the blue scythe of a glowing horn, thrust out before its wielder as they found their way towards him. Roland stiffened as a young, pale creature came into view. Even in the darkness, gilt in a silver wash of moonlight, she was distinctly familiar. Especially in the darkness, he might add, for when he had seen her last it had also been under the cover of night.

The child that stood before him had been a wraith, like so many others; confident in their own grotesque capacities, demonic and possessed by an infernal instinct to corrupt. Roland could have stared into the gaping claws of her ribcage, seen the flesh and heart beating behind its blood stained bars. He could still recall the taunting of their voices, the stench of rot and disease. A discreet once over revealed those ribs protruding from the skin of her barrel even now, though they no longer pierced the meat of her sides. There was no evidence of hatred in her eyes, and the shadow that had lurked upon every breath of those creatures no longer leaked from her lungs, nor did it cling to the pale champagne of her hide. The glow of her horn did not lessen as it sliced through the twilight, and Roland was finally forced to meet her affable gaze.

The rock that the Thief held between his teeth now seemed a silly accessory, and so he dropped it immediately. It tumbled off the bank and into the water with a deep splash, no doubt following the current over the edge of the earth and into oblivion. Rather than make his bewilderment apparent to the yearling, for she was clearly healed of that wrathful infliction- Lena had spoken of curing methods before- he recovered and shifted away from the brink; miniscule steps, in case she still possessed some ill intent and might have wished an easy riddance in the form of pushing him over the edge. Roland had stood at far too many a precipice and wondered if his company was weighing the merits of acquainting him with the uncompromising force of gravity. “I’m well,” he grated out quietly, and the gentle cadence of his voice was almost lost upon the breeze, which still carried the fragrance of wildflowers, the crisp scent of fresh water, but was no longer as soothing as he had found it just moments before.

“Are you?” He prompted with a curious tilt of his head, as if hoping her motives would be revealed with a simple change of angle. Moonlight slid across her cheek, interrupted by the shadow in the hollows of her bones, and yet even with the world shifted upon its side the slant confessed nothing more than what he had seen at first glance. “Do you remember me?” He ventured then, growing bolder as he waited for her response, patient and tense and upon the edge of a very dangerous slope.

( @[Sikeax] Not at all! <3)