06 | "the monster"

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06
{ the monster. }

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' h e
w h o
f o r g e t s '

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(ESEN RIETVIELD'S LIFE WAS A RHAPSODY OF COLORS.)

Silence envelops everything as they make their way deeper into the forest, searching for the deer and Esen really needs it right now, because clarity is such a scarce thing in this planet and in her entire system. The rain still pelts the earth with its crystalline raindrops as they walk side by side, Esen grateful that the sound of the rain is washing away the awkward silence.

In the midst of the silence, Esen thinks of the color green. So many shades, apple, forest, moss, seafoam, emerald.

The forest canopy, leaves where raindrops tumble out, moss crawling on the surface of year old stones, Esen's eyes reflected in the puddles where grass adorned the rim.

Green.

For as long as she could remember, the color had embellished every waking moment of her life. It was the sign of stability, of permanence, for as long as she lived and bled and clutched her bosom overflowing with sorrow, green was there. It was permanence.

Goosebumps begin to rise from her skin because of the cold, but there are more pressing matters she must face first. Esen's heart is still hammering loudly in her chest, there are butterfly wings scratching the flesh of her stomach and she knows it is inevitable, but she has to try, she has to stop falling for him in this ridiculous pace, because she knows what's going to happen, she knows how this will end and how another cycle is looming over her.

The midnight sky, lily flowers growing on the side of the winding path, the grapefruit dangling from trees, the fabric of the clothes she wore.

Purple.

It was beauty. The rare occurences of beauty in a dark and dreary world, a tinge of blue in a sky covered with grey clouds. For as long as Esen could see the color, she'd surge forward.

Esen does not know what to do. There are memories tapping away on her skull and her brain is confused, her heart more so and she needs some semblance of clarity, but the erratic beating of the muscle in her chest is not helping at all.

How she wishes everything was as simple as black and white.

White.

The color of the cumulus clouds sailing in the vast ocean of blue above, the little lines in her wrist from where past cycles ripped it to shreds, the fabric of her lover which she clutched when she saw the snow white deer traipsing toward them with its glorious antlers and sharp eyes.

"Peculiar," Zeref murmured to himself.

"It is heading this way," Esen says, her eyes never leaving the figure of the magical creature.

Zeref's smile is thin and mirthless. "I can see that."

Esen shoots him a glare, but his only reaction is a small smile. How comfortable they have become with each other's presence.

While Esen is busy contemplating how far they have reached in their relationship, she wanders aimlessly toward the deer, surprised when it is in front of her and with its mesmerizing eyes looks into her own. She is hypnotized by the creature, a marionette to its bidding.

You and I are the same, child. Reminders of the bitter past.

A voice? It's deep like a man's, but silky soft like a woman's voice, it reminds her of a village elder spouting cautionary tales of witches in the forest that will lure you to the happiest moments of your life and the next you're a corpse rotting next to said witch. Esen blinks profusely, staring into the deer that may or may not have spoken.

CHAINED FLOWERS ( z. dragneel )Where stories live. Discover now