𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓 • 𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐑

09. Serenity of Storms

——[～Æ～]——

——[～Æ～]——

[A/N] ~ Things are a little bit intense in the first part of this chapter. If you're triggered by blood or survivor's guilt please skip to the end of the italics. All you'll miss is a little bit of character background.  

     She was covered in blood. Elf blood, Man blood, her sisters' blood, orc blood, her own blood. No matter how many times she scrubbed her hands  and face raw in a puddle that was more mud than water there was still blood staining her hands, even when they were cleaned. With a rattling breath she inspected her shaking hands again before thrusting them back into the puddle, splashing brown water everywhere. 

     She failed. She failed her father, she failed her sisters, she failed herself. She was a failure. She should have done better, done more, done something to keep them all alive. A flash of light and a roar of thunder as she scratched and clawed and rubbed at her hands as the memories resurfaced in a tidal wave. Blood. Screaming. The One Ring. The victorious cry of the enemy. Swords. Hunting horns. Sulfur. The broken sword that killed Sauron. The roar of bears. Fear.  Arrows. The Prince of Gondor. Pain. Death. 

     Soon the violent rubbing turned into hitting, and before Sazrat realized what she was doing she was beating the water fruitlessly, spitting curses at it as if being violent enough would bring her family back. Again and again she pounded against her innocent victim until a dagger materialized in her hand, and she was stabbing the stranger again and again, watching in grim delight as the life faded from his eyes. Even after he was dead she kept attacking him, finally finding an outlet for her anger and hurt. 

     Eventually she stopped, leaving his body in the deluge in the middle of the alleyway as she retrieved the soggy loaf he had kicked out of her hands. She slid down the wall and sat opposite him as she hungrily shoved the meager meal in her mouth, almost biting her own bloody fingers off in her haste and not caring about the blood that soaked into the bread she ate. The cry of the guards made her head shoot up like an animal in a hunter's sights. Not waiting to be caught, Sazrat scrambled to her feet and ran, leaving the half eaten loaf beside the body to soak up even more blood and rainwater.

     The roar of rain turned into the roar of fire as she ran, flames and wooden houses springing up around her where stone walls once were. Fire surrounded her, licking her skin and scorching her clothes. The towns people were screaming as they tried to escape in their small fishing boats with what little they had. There was a blazing gust of wind as the dragon swooped low again, fanning his inferno to even more destructive heights. The bell tower loomed above her. When she took a step she was there, the ground beneath her giving way to air as she dangled from the broken bell tower, her fingers slowly slipping as she inched closer and closer to a fatal fall. A hand wrapped around her wrist pulled her up and over the edge, beginning to slip when her weight became too much to pull.