smolpandao

[smolpandao]

He reached out, his fingers stopping just before the walls. They couldn’t be seen, mental barriers of protection, of fear, of pain.

Pain of memories long passed, of getting hit for not listening, of being torn away while calling for them. Of being held by someone you didn’t want to be held by.

Fear of what could have happened, what still can. The wall reaches into my pockets, where a knife and pepper spray sit just in case, where my hand wraps around the car keys into a fist, ready to fight.

Of protection, from what I’m unsure anymore. The people I used to fear? That used to cause pain? That might do either or both? This is the wall that will fall first.

He is safe, that wall has no use with him. Next falls the wall of fear. He won’t hurt me, nor will he hurt others I care for. He won’t disappear on me randomly. Finally the wall for pain falls. Why should I hide? He’s there, begging me to tell him what happened in that field, on the playground, while pressed against a fence.

I find another wall after, but this one has a door. It protects me from myself, he is the guard to it.

I could have used this wall before, but who would have held the key, defended it, if not him?

[smolpandao]

The stream ran through the woods, slowly making its way through then old and knotted trees. The roots reached into the sandy bed, and towered above me as I sat at the waters edge, letting the water run through my fingers on my right hand while my left ran through the cool grass blades. The sun was still raising, turning the water golden to my curious eyes. The trees swayed slightly in the breeze, making the leafs in the colors of fire fall like snow. Some landed in growing piles, others on the water, gently going along. Mushrooms grew on an old tree trunk that had fallen, it now acted as a bridge over the water for the squirrels and chipmunks brave enough to use it. Small fish in the water came close enough to brush my hand, their soft scales tickle slightly. I stand up, with water dripping from my finger tips, plopping back into the water then onto the grass silently. My shoes get wet from the morning dew as I shuffle through the grass. A squirrel skitters up a tree as I pass. The stump of the tree that that had fallen over the stream now was rotting, fungi and lichen sit on it now.

I’ll use it to rest my legs for a bit longer.

[smolpandao]

The walls reflected the Fire and Water, making the room glow. Night sky shown through where the roof had been blown off. Inside the room a perfect display of destruction. The once perfect memorial sat in ruin.

Water covered the floor up to 20cm in some areas, fire burned where it wasn’t. Trees that had fallen acted as bridges for the flames to spread, the tapestry was all but cinders left to the wind.

The intensity of the fire meant just standing in the doorway felt like being burned to a crisp, but still I walked inside, unable to believe the damage.

Winds ruffled the flames, making them higher for a bit before going back down. It looked like waves on a beach. The pools of water rippled and shown the stars their mirror image perfectly, framed by the roaring flames.

The moon hun in the sky, just a sliver. Like the moon itself couldn’t look at the destruction below.

[smolpandao]

The rain pounds on the roof, and thunder rumbles overhead. Thankfully the thick curtains block out the flashes of lighting.

I lay in bed, hugging a couple stuffys while listening to the storm raging overhead. Impossible to fall asleep now, I’ll have to wait it out.

May morning wait for me…

[smolpandao]

The candle flickers while I write on the scroll. The letters glow, then float off- keeping the message secret unless it is seen by whom it was written to. The raven watches, curiosity making their black eyes seem to shine, and they fidget with the ink pot to entertain themself. I hand them a treat of raw squirrel, which they eagerly grab and take off with. I'm alone then... I addressed the letter and set it to wait in the room. The floating letters should catch their interest even a few centuries from now.

[smolpandao]

Power swirls around them, tightening slowly. A slow and painful death, what people thought they deserved. They held the book that damned then to their chest, and looks forward with tears streaming down their face.

“I’m coming home… wait for me momma…”

[smolpandao]

The fire crackles in the warm house, the snow outside acts as insulation. The two children lay on the bed, cozy under a blanket, a raccoon sleeps with them. One child hugs the raccoon, who seems quite happy with their placement.

The small wolf they had been traveling with lays with me on the floor, as I tend to the fire. They give a small growl as I stop petting them to add a bit more wood, their head in my lap, a paw on my leg. They wag their tail as I go back to petting, happily closing their eyes again.

It’s peaceful, calm. Safe.

[smolpandao]

The wind attacks their skin, and they cling to the small fire that promises warmth. The small kids look half dead from the cold, their adult warm in a sleeping bag made for this weather.

I sit, a little distance away. The two kids with me are warm, being kept that way by the heat enchantments I put on their clothes. There’s a fire here too, but it’s to cook with. The twin cuts of pork sit on sticks above it, juicy and almost ready to eat.

It’ll be the first time in a while these kids ate, and I went out of the way to get pork, as they said they loved it. I hope it’s enjoyable for them.

For now I’ll let them rest, they had a long day after all.

[smolpandao]

A distant memory

“You ok?”

“Yeah why?”

They just looked down range, where my arrow had hit a 2 pointer. “Just seems you’re not paying attention today.”

I shrug, nocking the next one. The reason for my being off stood right behind me, and I listened as my instructor praised a good shot.

[smolpandao]

Melancholy - sadness

Noun

“She’s dead,” I repeat the words, but my mind can’t take it in. I look up at her father, “what?” I ask quietly. “She’s dead,” He says again, his voice melancholy. I turn to the book that she never finished with me. “No, she said we would finish the story tonight, she’ll be back soon.” He sighs, and starts to walk away, before stoping. “No bringing her back as a ghost, or demon.” He says, strictly. “No sir…” I reply quietly.

[smolpandao]

Convivial - socially eating or drinking

Adjective

The streets are covered in colored fabric, and not a horse in sight. I walk amazed at the sight- no rats, or mice in the corners. The ground isn’t covered in horse manure, and everyone seems to be in an endless dance. You can see blades everywhere, and coin purses aren’t hidden. So many invitations. So many chances. I walk slowly, looking at the different stalls. Also brightly colored, and no two are the same. If it sells the same things it’s colored and organized differently, like a competition of who looks best instead of who’s selling best. People are Convivaling everywhere. I take off my glasses and it goes back to the grayscale world I’m used to, one I’ve lived in since I left the lab. I put them back on to gape at some more colors. “New to color? I recognize one of the built anywhere.” And I’ve been spotted. I just wanted a moment of peace! I turn around, ready to fight if possible or run if needed. I stop dead. “Never seen another of you’re kind huh?” The man with manacles still attached says.

[smolpandao]

Ambiguous - having a double meaning

Adjective 

I walk into the room, quietly as per-usual. A small kid looks up at me as I pass, and I slow slightly. I hated meeting, one due to the people who brought kids to a war council. It was ambiguous, they had them to show how the wars affected them, and that there was no childcare anymore. Schools shut down around 3 years ago- when the first bullets went over our walls. Now they tremble and shake as we speak of killing hundreds of soldiers- people they might have once known.

[smolpandao]

A good day

Duck sits in a library, with a couple other kids. They are in a childrens section, happily pointing out this book and that to each other. Gall flies over to them, settling on Duck’s head. The children start to pamper the bird, before a raccoon walks in, and Ara. A goat follows, before headbutting the smallest of the children. The 3 kids and 4 creatures play together a form of tag, and Duck hides behind a large bookshelf while giggling. Gall tags her before flying off, as Duck runs to tag someone else.

Ara is next tagged, and runs after one of the other kids, who trips. The raccoon catches them, and the kid laughs. In the end all the kids are laughing, as the creatures sit beside them. Gall flies to a nearby bookshelf, watching over them.

[smolpandao]

A bad day

Duck walks in front of you, back bleeding from cuts. You know them, they ramain as scars now. Looking at her face it’s… blank. Her steps are that of a drunk. And she holds one hand with the other… the finger was just cut off. Her staggering sway shows the pain she’s in, the blood stain clothes that this isn’t the first time. Ghost floats beside her, more faded then usual. Gall sits on Duck’s head, and when Duck almost falls (Ghost catches her) Gall is moved enough to see they were covering yet another wound. The pair of ghosts frantically attempt to help the injured child.

Duck stops in a doorway, sitting on the front step. Once they settle Ghost hands them some bread, and starts bandaging them. They speak in Duck’s native language.

Ghost tells Duck they should have waited, that they were on their way with food as promised. Duck blinks slowly, and both Ghost and Gall freak out again. You are pulled back as Duck falls asleep.

[smolpandao]

Duck’s first revenge

“You took my fingers… I’ll take your life in trade.”

As Duck sleeps, Ara nudges you. They pull up your contract book, something you didn’t know they could do. They also pull up Duck’s contract book, flipping both to the protector contract. X grabs your hand and touches it to Duck’s book. “You wanted regenge on those who hurt her. Didn’t you? Just put your hand on your book. Duck has already aproved of this.”

As you touch the book you feel your stomach drop. Then, you are floating. Looking at your hands they’re mostly transparent. Looking up, you see Duck. She’s speaking to a cowering man, who is currently begging her for something. For the first time, her tone is harsh. “You took my fingers. You lashed my skin. You want mercy now? Simply because you can’t hurt me anymore?” Duck then raises their arm. A sword shines, the man cries for help. “Please! Anyone! The cursed one! They’ve transformed!”

Duck swings down. Again. And again. They don’t aim to kill, and you can see them cutting deep enough to scar. Duck is soon covered in their blood. Ghost shows beside you, “You don’t need to see this, and as long as you’re here Duck is dreaming about it.” Then you are back home, with Ara sitting to the side, and an angry Gall nearby.

[smolpandao]

A lonely bird

The Raven sits in their cage, awaiting their death. They look well fed, but their eyes are without hope.

Someone walks up, with a small package. It’s full of bird seeds, and they feed the bird through the bars… filling a makeshift water bowl make of clay with water from a bottle.

They then sit down, watching the bird. They pull out a copy of the lock on the cage, fiddling with it- once they unlock it they try to unlock the one on the cage itself.

The Raven watches, before lying down on the disgusting floor of their cage. The person gives up after some time, apologizing to the bird before leaving in defeat. The Raven attempts to thank them as they leave, but as they can’t understand the bird… nothing comes of their attempts.

So they lay there, awaiting death.

[smolpandao]

The owl waits, sitting in the pet store’s window.

As a child passes by they quickly put on a little costume, and the child smiles and points at the bird, presumably asking their parents to buy them.

The owl seems to deflate as they walk away, the child looks back sadly at the bird, before waving goodbye.

Someone walks up to the owl, picking up the cage they sit in they say softly, “someone bought you friend… or at least they bought your feathers…”