Was I so easy to give up? by Deku_Face
A creative project
Wandering Bard
Crumpled parchment, with frayed creases, worn from the repeated act of folding, unfolding, folding, unfolding… Like unruly veins, they crept across the page, warping the ink blotted words left from many separate occasions. The varying shades of black and gray betrayed the ages of each line.
I skimmed the previous entries, as if almost expecting their form to have changed since having left them. My eyes traced their meanings, confirming they remained unaltered, before I raised my quill to the paper, beginning to ink a fresh streak of slick onyx onto the page.
The words felt dull, monochrome even. They had long since lost their luster, but that didn't stop me from writing them. Terms such as "wayward" and "remember," "forgiveness" and "cherish" escaped my pen countless times. But what did it matter? For whose eyes were these texts destined for? Whose lips would deliver these feelings once trapped by my solitude? The endless poems of our tales, the travesty that befell us, the spirit maiden… the knight. I was all that was left; these words would be wasted should they fall to the ears of anyone now remaining in this world.
I lost count of how many decades have passed since that night, and yet the rain still feels fresh on my skin. I still remember the weight of his small body, limp and broken on my shoulders; he whose own shoulders were meant to carry the world. Sometimes my mind revisits that night.
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03 Sep, 2019, 7:25 am
The panic of rushing through the field during the darkest moment of our kingdom. My regrets trailed behind me like the blood of an open wound, begging the goddess for the chance, just one chance to make amends. Be the fault mine, or his, I cared not. All I asked was the chance to ease that regret.
I learned soon that waiting for that opportunity to come would be a fruitless endeavor. Long I waited by his side, waiting for him to emerge from his slumber, so I could embrace him and mend the rift wedged between us. To no avail.
I was lost for a long time, aside myself with the shock over my realization. I took to all I knew to do, solidifying the flurry of emotions swirling inside of me, giving them shape and diction. When at last the howling beast inside me had lost it's voice, I knew there was more to my task than self pity.
The director once told me before I left that it's needless to waste energy by dwelling on what was. "One day, he will awaken," she promised me repeatedly. "It will all be moot when he does." But I don't feel convinced it will ever be in my lifetime. This body of mine, designed to reach ripened ages the his people could never dream of… it doesn't wield the promise to maintain the will to live for that long.
But regardless of how she denounced these useless emotions, the director entrusted me with something precious, claiming it would support my sanity: the still image of them, extracted from the slate itself before being sealed away. I had almost forgotten their faces by the time it was given to me, and so out of fear of it meeting the same fate as my notes, I only took it out to set eyes on it in my darkest moments. And many days, that felt like a constant state I lived in. But it only drove me to the task I set off to do.
Often, my eyes would drift to those ruined towers at the center of all things. Even now, she remained there, staying her ground. How, I wondered, could she withstand it? Her eyes I had once looked upon with such admiration and allure. No longer did I hold her in the highest regard for myself, but it was as if I carried now the love for her for both of us; she whom he had summoned the courage to live, and even die for, was precious to me. Yet there was nothing I could do to help her.
I had decided, that for them, I would carry on. Whatever was in my power to leave behind for him when he returned, I swore to carry through, and my vow drew me across the land, as it had so nostalgically done before. From the crashing waves of the east, to the rolling hills in the northwest.
My thoughts were interrupted by a bellowing gust, bursting through the shutters of my cabin window, scattering the pages laid out before me. "Kass…" I grumbled under my breath, speculating the perpetrator of the unfastened window latch.
Kneeling to the floor, I gathered the contents of not only my current writings, but alike piles, once left carelessy beside the desk, collecting dust. I numbly avoided gazing too closely among the piles, concentrating only on cleaning the array of poems, notes, studies and compositions. However, it couldn't be helped when my eyes landed on one piece that stood out among the rest; though I recognized it immediately, my heart spent a moment, refusing to acknowledge the aged image. A charcoal etched horizon, cradled by a crescent bay. In the middle of the water stood an hourglass shaped rock, surrounded by an archipelago of smaller rocks. Crossed over it was an "X" followed by a string of scribbled out words, one I could make out as the word "cache."
At first, it was just a small, bittersweet sensation, squeezing my chest. But the more I looked at the drawing, the larger the pain grew, tearing through my breath and threatening to strangle my heart. Small fractions of the page were blotched and ruined, alerting me to my flowing tears. I had long since given up the idea of having any tears left
03 Sep, 2019, 7:32 am
"Why?" Was the only thought in my head I could make out amidst the chaos. Though I had thought myself better than to place any blame on others for my own regret, I couldn't help but feel a burning rage flare back up inside me. The familiar flare of betrayal, and broken love for one whom I had once considered a brother. "You fool… Damn you, you fool. Why did you have to act the way you did?"
05 Sep, 2019, 3:23 am
DEKU! AY
i love this writing & pic! (dat hair)
man i miss your posts, what site(s) have you moved to?