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09-04-2016, 03:20 PM
Receive the erased memories
And broken heart on the palm of my hand.
And broken heart on the palm of my hand.
A haggard reflection gazes back to me, a man mired with dirt and grime. The weight of my travels shows easily in the dust collected over the once pristine white of my wing and leg, with a myriad of small items clinging to my mane and tail. Like a strange creature caked and coated with the earth, I stand on the edge of a strange realm. Only the mirrored image of my eyes rings forward a memory of my own face, though they look lifeless now despite the familiarity.
I drift my eyes upward, looking over the flatland with a detached sort of interest. I am not tempted to explore, to get lost in the waters which reflected the sky. Instead, I think of the way the horizon becomes invisible here, how the world shifts about its axis constantly. It is a nauseating feeling, one I do not appreciate.
The smell of salt fills my senses, knowing these waters to be filled with the substance, a small outlet of the sea not far from here. The lack of greenery, even in the budding season of autumn, attests to the fact that the earth, weighed down by salt, has been poisoned beyond repair. A similar tactic had been used in Eikkahn, choking the food supply of our enemies and starving many, driving some into the open where they met their promised death before getting one mouthful of grass.
A bitter memory, one that reinforces the nausea in the back of my throat. Caustic and violent, my past haunts me often these days. Though, it is unusual that I feel this strange sort of regret.
The entry into Helovia had sparked many things I care not to think about. First, the near death experience brought a ghost into my visions, her sweet voice tugging on what few strings still bound my heart in place. Next, permeating my very soul, a sadness. Years passed silently since I mourned, yet here they were, old scars festering in a new land. The frown deepens on my lips as I stand on the precipice of the salt mirror, gazing into myself with reproach.
I hated it.
I drift my eyes upward, looking over the flatland with a detached sort of interest. I am not tempted to explore, to get lost in the waters which reflected the sky. Instead, I think of the way the horizon becomes invisible here, how the world shifts about its axis constantly. It is a nauseating feeling, one I do not appreciate.
The smell of salt fills my senses, knowing these waters to be filled with the substance, a small outlet of the sea not far from here. The lack of greenery, even in the budding season of autumn, attests to the fact that the earth, weighed down by salt, has been poisoned beyond repair. A similar tactic had been used in Eikkahn, choking the food supply of our enemies and starving many, driving some into the open where they met their promised death before getting one mouthful of grass.
A bitter memory, one that reinforces the nausea in the back of my throat. Caustic and violent, my past haunts me often these days. Though, it is unusual that I feel this strange sort of regret.
The entry into Helovia had sparked many things I care not to think about. First, the near death experience brought a ghost into my visions, her sweet voice tugging on what few strings still bound my heart in place. Next, permeating my very soul, a sadness. Years passed silently since I mourned, yet here they were, old scars festering in a new land. The frown deepens on my lips as I stand on the precipice of the salt mirror, gazing into myself with reproach.
I hated it.
良克
RYOUTA
@Aelfwine
