The Wilting Ballad

23

"This will be the story of your venture out here if you don't leave us now."

The words of Jejtsu Revenstar lingered on Neania's mind, repeating itself over, and over ever since she left the Shore in order to save her hide as well as Jlyn's.

She had always loathed it when characters took leave at the eve of a fight in the many stories she'd read over the years.

Running away, cowering while your friends get burned. But then again, she just met the poor Shīza. They weren't really what one would call friends now, are they? She tried to comfort her doubtful mind and carry on with what was now her liability.

If she didn't have questions to ask the bastard Faiyshal, she wouldn't necessarily have gone along with their plan of hanging the boy on her shoulder. Striding as fast as her feet allows her with his intense weight of weighing her.

Despite having insanely bright hair, she wasn't scorned by the people of Il-Zektes, quite the opposite, actually. She was always looked at like something of a prodigy by her trainers and elders of the Hidden City.

Modesty aside, she had enjoyed being looked at like that, she can always forget about her loneliness and unhappiness when she was around fellow students and trainers. But if there was one thing she never quite understood despite her being called 'prodigy' and all was how the people had the nerve to hate the Lady and Lord's daughter's son. Their grandson.

He was gifted enough in the arts of Leafsinging, so much so that he was the only one who Neania couldn't beat whilst training. Despite all that, the only person who didn't seem to hate Jlyn was his grandfather. For everybody else, he was the unwanted rat wreaking havoc in the basement. She was among those, and she now regretted her harsh words and her blind eyes when she saw the inconsiderate ways he gets treated.

I could've stopped those... did I enjoy seeing him like that? She asked herself, waving raucously at the twigs before her. She had been quick to save him before only so that she could gloat and ask favour of him when he woke. But now, she had learned of how he went out to Moss Island to find her father's killer, suffering great injuries as a result. He had been tortured no doubt, for... all for father.

Filling oneself with remorse and shame is very painful indeed. Neania had read somewhere that repenting for life is the only bargain for this disease. Life is long and short, it is unpredictable, full of stupefying astonishment and shocking revelation. We could die at any moment and time. So you better wake up soon, so I can start repenting for my wrongs.

Hordes of neon fireflies blocked her path when the earth shook to its core as an explosion rebounded on the forest road, causing them to scatter in fear. She slipped, missing her attempt to steady herself and Jlyn on the trunk of a tree towering nearest to her. She falls, narrowly clouding her face with her arms, thumping heavily on the ground. Jlyn's limped body falls on top of her.

Well, there goes my ribs, spine, and all the bones in my body. Fun while it lasts. She could hear the sounds of brown leaves hitting the ground in the wake of the thundering earthquake that ends as it starts.

The scream that follows it was so horrible to the ears that it woke even the comatose Jlyn. He jolted up awkwardly in his dizzy state and stepped on the solid figure lying under her.

"Argh!" He heard someone screamed, he steadied himself on the trunk of the tree and found that he was still very much shirtless. "Get off!" The voice screamed again. Everything was unclear but he knows the person to whom the voice belongs before the question 'Where am I?' dawned on him.

He turned his head slowly, so as to not accidentally fall, he fought off his drowsiness and had his eyes set on the figure he was standing on. He breathes from his mouth, testing if he was awake enough to talk.