Repent: Gwyllomay of the Darkness (1.5) (MANUSCRIPT)

(Arc 1) Chapter 1, I Confessed (re1)

           'Gwyllomay, the evergreen trees of this winter district remind me of our love.'

           That same voice had been running its course through my head for quite some time now. I couldn't get it out. That saccharine tone of an unconditional woman. 

         Running a hand down the back of my hair, I bit my lip. The familiar taste of my own flesh felt good. Licking the outer area of my cheek, I drew in a deep breath. The air around me had this aroma of fresh, yet stale. Open, yet closed. Free, yet trapped. 

          A little salty too, perhaps?

         "Oi, Gwyll! The train's departing. Get on, dude!" 

          Huh? 

          The loud wailing of a train, the roars of conductors with striped hats, and the hissing snap of steam all appeared in front of me. 

      "Oh, right. Sorry, Smithwell." I shake my head and turn.

      "Smithwell?" My friend shrugged his shoulders beneath that black, tight shirt of his. 

       He had a face the same shade as a chocolate-chip cookie. I admired this kind of tan. 

       "Why do you insist on callin' me by my last name so much, you flippin' weirdo! Haha. I'm-"

        "Daniel. I know." I shoved my hands into the pockets of my denim jeans, walking up the steps into a velvet, trolley-like vehicle. 

        Daniel laughed quietly as he trailed in front of me. "Well, old habits die hard I suppose. Heh. I mean- I guess. Ah. So! How's it feel?" 

         The two of us found a seat to the right of a window. Like this, we could see the countryside of Ruthberg. Tall trees, bushes, and other such greenery for as far as the eye could see. Quaint, peaceful, yet adventurous at the same time. 

         I sighed. 

        It stung to leave this land behind, and there was no avoiding that. My eyes rolled back to Smithwell, away from the view of nature. "How does it 'feel'? Well, strange! Foreign. In one sense, I'm a bit sad to leave the picture-esque 'kingdom' of Ruthberg, but I also am a little excited to see this new place."

        Smithwell nodded, his lips grinning as his tropical-orange hair frilled near the top. "Exactly! Though, I guess I'm a little more excited than you a- My cowlick is acting up again, isn't it? Bloody hell. Ugh, joy. Truly, it's the little things, as they say. Anyway, Ruthberg is such a relic. Great for a vacation, terrible place to actually live. Everything is so 19th century. Boring! Though that train station was hella cute, wasn't it?" 

        I thought back to the station. A bustling spot with all sorts of kiosks and people, centralized in a concrete-filled encasement which led out to the view of the kingdom. 

         Chuckling, I crossed my arms over the table which separated our acrostic seating-arrangements. 

         The white button-up I put on this morning makes me feel like a damn pirate, and I'm definitely not one of those. 

          Granted, the blue overcoat's a nice addition. Makes me feel like some soldier for some revolutionary war. Ha. 

          "It was nice, yes. I remember when they first built it." Uncrossing my arms, I rested my chin over my right hand. 

        "What? Dude, they made this train-stop like 120 years ago." Smithwell widened his eyes quickly, still smiling, and tossed his gaze out the window.