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The Grove was full of idiots, lustful idiots who pet and smile at each other with faked and forced affection. Either that, or they were so dense that they believed the words falling from their mouths, coating the bodies of others, lavishing them with lies until they too believed in the feeling of love between one who is not kin nor your friend, just a bastard of the two claiming romantic intentions. I wish they would just admit the truth - they wanted nothing more than to purge the flame between their legs, and were shamefully lying to themselves and those around them.
I myself had never been lied to, but my two children born were of either a forced nature or one of necessity, in the case of Onni. Regardless, my beloved daughter was one that I had grown to appreciate more and more over the passing months as her leader. The Tome Guardian had never given me my magic, but he had given me something greater, something I had been missing for years: true family.
Still, you might be wondering why I, Kri, am currently standing in the Secret Grove among a bunch of mindless rabble. I will give you your answer, and it comes down to Rishima. My dark eyes scan the oppressive fog for a vision of her, trying to see through the dull gray hues for her dichotomy of coloring - pearlescent silver and inky black. When I catch sight, I pounce from where I stand, rushing forward with a twirl of my wings to leave intricate patterns forced in the dense air behind me. I stop short, though, for Rishima is not my enemy. This duel is not one for serious injury.
Instead, I swing my head back in an altogether overly dramatic fashion, calling upon the wind caressing the trees above, the only true lover in this god foresaken land, and send it rushing down toward her figure, a wall of fog proceeding the fast gust of wind. It tears through, making a hollow whistling noise, invisible threads of power growing in intensity until suddenly a flicking them off and away like a light switch. Was it impressive, the hurricane force winds made to return back to a light autumn breeze in less than a second? I thought so, but few would understand the erroding power of wind. Had there been loose dust, it could have been like sand paper across her skin. Instead, it would be nothing more than a hair dryer set on cool.
[1/2 - 423 words. ]
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