Jaeden's Return (Short One Piece)

Jaeden awoke from a bed of vines and other vegetation commonly found within Fiodh's care, lips gaped and sucking for breath. Each inhale seemed inadequate to the need aching in her lungs, and a thick sheen of perspiration made it impossible to make a clean get away; dirt became sticky and clung to her flustered flesh. Leaves and barbed stems hitched at her accoutrements with a possessive hold, and they provoked her to a more animated escape. Slender hands slapped for stable surfaced, latched, and white-knuckled effort purchased her freedom.

Flung supplicant, her arms outstretched with a faux embrace for the earth, the elf made an attenuate cry for Darian. There was no answer, and somehow she suspected there wouldn't be. The scents were too thick: grassy, humid enriched dirt (mud), foreign beasts. And the sounds! They were far too impertinent, and the fowls' songs dominated the air, the pleasant hum of insects underlied as harmony. She gave a final call for her companion, the weight of their relationship still wrapped tight on her ring finger.

And she knew she was alone.

Imagery twisted on itself, and though her eyes were opened, Jaeden saw little past the tip of her nose. She saw only the Sorcerer's face, a profile of a sharp featured man positioned on his back for slumber, his aristocratic nose pointed perpendicular to a marbled ceiling. She remembered how stiff his shoulder felt beneath her cheek and chin, remembered the texture of his sleeping wear as she rubbed her face to it with affection. The night's contrast claimed all of its subjugates with a midnight hue, and it had twisted with heated lightning. No longer was he sleeping, and no longer were they in their room. He was casting a spell, and it came between them. She was ripped from his side, tossed into a swirling vortex that swallowed her like the mocking mouth of a cheshire cat, and at the time it had been more important that Darian was wrenched from her view and obscured by a suffocating mass of nothing.

Something of a sob cracked dry from her lips. The sound startled her, and Fiodh was seen once more. It was blaringly familiar, existent to her eyes, and entirely unwanted because it was exactly where Darian wasn't. She recognized the dew on her jaw as her own tears, and she wiped it with a clammy hand. Loss. Loss, loss, loss. In her grief, she had little time to contemplate the gaping hole within herself, and that an unnamed thing had gone missing in her absence. A mystery feeling, a sense of security; it was rent from her, and she had no idea how to distinguish it from the shock of finding herself in this position. From determining what had happened. Where she had been. And when.

Time went by unnoticed. It wasn't hunger, but necessity that compelled her to move from her spot hours later. She had need to write a letter--to someone, anyone, and her fingers wrote a numb script to several individuals when she had the means to do so. The messages were sedated by pleasantries, and she waited at Uladh's altars for their return letters, and hopefully presence, shaken to the core by awkwardly exuberant waiting.

<<This was sad.. QQ. Poor girl!>>

That made me go

You guys could always cheer her up by running dungeons with her and giving her company. You see, I'm emotionally blackmailing RPsociety into being my dungeon slaves.

It's a good thing my characters typically don't give a crap about others emotional issues, huh. :p

((D: i feel so bad for her..))

Just a thought, wouldn't this be better for Story Board Topic?

Yeah, what Glacia said.

Yes... --Well..

Erm.

I didn't know there was a Story Board when I wrote this. 'Short Stories' had always gone in the creativity board. So.. So...

So there!

In the Creativity Board..... 's Story Board, yes.