Red Glass

Home

The darkness of home would be navigated with cautious strides to the lamps usually but even the darkest of corners appeared shaded in light. Water hissed in his ears. every droplet seemed to have its place as it ran red through his grasp. Catching the icy water in his palm he gargles and throws the cold against his face, closing his eyes to flashbacks of failure, fear and blood. Taking his Miswaak and openining his mouth his eyes catch the mirrors image - one staring back in judgement and scolding. Burning eyes of bright amber stood a stark contrast to his pale skin and dark dishevelled hair, elongated teeth and acute nails; a faded reflection from the face his wife knew.

Faris stared for a moment in disbelief, hoping the monster was just a manifestation of sleep deprivation and malnutrition, but darkness no longer wore mask.

He brushes the taste of death from teeth, washes his face. Picking up his ivory comb, he brushes the Knots from his beard and steps into the bath. The pot has not been boiled and the nights are cold but ablution was long overdue. Opening the tap, Ice cold water fills Faris's palms which he splashes against his chest yet it was not needles but a comfort of cold against his cold body. Something feels wrong but his mind suffocating beneath the crashing world and senses that overcrowd him. He dries, oils his skin and fixes his beard and hair. His nails length and thickness surprise him as he cuts them before trimming his moustache, applying fragrance and dressing in fresh white.

The prayer mat is un-rolled but how can one present themselves before the Creator as the blood of another fills a shamed heart? Faris had never drank alcohol or taken any form of intoxicant before but knew this was what it felt like. Adrenalin, power and joy ran through him, numbing the guilt and pains of a lost friend, a dead wife. Red rolls of vellum lay across the desk and praying without a straight mind disgraceful. Sunrise was hiding under the rain and life waits for no-one.

-

Daniella is awoken by the sound of a whetstone running up a dagger blade and light raindrops dancing atop her shelter.

"Ready?"
Rohain asks.

The air was cold, fresh and smells of home lingered along the path. Daniella smiled and gracefully nodded as she accepted she was ready to return where she belonged.

-

Veryth is awoken from a dream of happyness by the song of rain. Dreaming of her husbands arms only to find Schenade has crawled into her bed again. Finally asleep after another late night, this is the only time Veryth does not need to hide her fears and tears.

-

The rainfall hammers against steel and fur but cannot beat away the misery. The moon had fallen over the cracked crown of thousands, while the sun barely peaked through dark skies. Hooded frowns forged in loss wonder the streets attempting to live life as normal, as if ghost are stones unturned. The bakers baked, maids cleaned and guards stood watch of towers and gates. The clock watched over everyone, reminding them with each hour of how short life really is. Death shadows each soul with the fear of what is left behind; an unspoken word, a legacy, a dream, a family. It is easier to die than it is to lose.

Knocking at the wet western gate, Yuri opens to see two young boys; Faolin and Conor.

"Can I help you?"
Yuri asks, confused about why children would be travelling alone.

The elder of two boys presents a letter.
"We have to deliver this, sir."

"You are couriers? The road is a little too dangerous for you to be travelling alone."

"We don't have a choice, we need coin to eat on the road back home."
Replies Conner.

Yuri looks at the grey blanket covering the sky with concern.
"Where are you from? Where are your parents?"