In Shades of Black and Gray (DISCONTUINED)

Hurt, I can't shake

A few miles from Mo Village 

The world was just as Daiyu had left it sixteen years ago.

Nothing had changed, not physically at least, yet she felt nothing would ever be the same again.

Memories of blood-soaked desperation flashed through her mind, fast and cutting like a whip. She grimaced, her dirt-coated nails struggling to find purchase in the dew-soaked grass. A ragged breath escaped her dry lips, air rushing in to fill her lungs. Daiyu gasped at the sensation, the sound coming out strangled. It felt strange to breathe again.

From her position on the ground, she could see her breath fanning out in front of her. She watched as the mist swirled around in the air for a moment before dissipating as if it had never existed in the first place. A shudder racked her body. She was cold. Which should be impossible. Dead people didn't get cold. And the last time Daiyu had checked, she had most definitely died. Rather painfully, she might add. 

With a soft grunt, she placed her palms flat on the ground, using whatever strength she had to push herself into a sitting position, marveling at the feel of frost under her fingertips. Methodically, she began to inspect her body, running her hands over her limbs to ensure she was really here and intact, and not broken like before. 

Her body felt solid beneath her explorative hands. Solid and warm.

The night air was silent around her, the unusual stillness only amplifying her ragged breathing. 

This wasn't possible. It felt practically blasphemous, almost as if by her being alive she was committing some great grievance against the universe. She felt filthy, the type of dirty that felt more spiritual than physical. Another tremor racked her body. Everything about the situation felt wrong. 

She tried to remember why she was here. Or more importantly, how she came to be here.

A wave of deep-seated revulsion washed over her and she fought the urge to vomit. 

A ringing filled her ears and black dots developed at the corner of her vision. She knew, could practically feel, without a shadow of a doubt, that remembering would be an impossibility. Skin pricking with unease at her own mind's apparent betrayal, Daiyu tilted her head back, her eyes focusing on the sky above her.  

The moon was full tonight. 

Just like it had been on that night all those years ago. 

Daiyu frowned.

Too bad her amnesia didn't include her own demise. It would seem she wouldn't be offered the luxury of forgetting that particular event.

A cloud briefly passed over the moon, casting her in darkness. Daiyu narrowed her eyes, resolved. With a soft grunt, she pushed herself to her feet, surprised to find that she stood steady. She certainly didn't feel steady at the moment. She felt like she was going to collapse and sink into the earth at any moment. She hadn't felt this unsteady since she was a child, when she had picked up a sword for the first time and nearly tipped over from the weight. She could feel the phantom weight of it in her hands now, recall how her arms had shaken from the strain of keeping the weapon upright. She really should be shaking now, she concluded. But much like the crisp night air around her, her body remained still. 

The scratchy feeling of dried mud on her skin returned her focus and Daiyu absentmindedly picked off a patch of dirt from her cheek, her nose wrinkling in distaste. Had she crawled forth from the earth itself? Taking into account the dirt under her nails and the soil that caked her robes it wasn't exactly a far stretched notion.