STARS WERE AS WICKED AS FATES. They mourned the soul that yearns. It hold power to unleash a yielding force of life yet they succumb to being relics in the sky. They shine and lit from lightyears away, mocked the souls that failed to see what potential that lies within. They were cruel. They peered down and looked with nothing but disgust, a muck under their shoes.
Though as cruel and relentless as they were, they had their favourites.
Billowing gold hair and emerald eyes. A soul that yearned for something more, something powerful. She prayed and prayed— hoping for a deity to hear her pleads and seek pity of her innocent soul.
Drenched with a thirst for a win in a game that was never hers, Sophie seek by the moons end— a pathway out of the woods, and in search for the school of Good and Evil. She knew it existed, knew it was calling for her. No matter the whispers and rumours that claims of it is fiction, she decided to turn a blind eye and allowed faith to lead her on.
The woods was a mystery by the nights hand. Trees that branch out thick claws, roots that rise like gates of hell, all —forbidding the blonde to trespass. But she neglected it's warning, treading with a simple nudge and push through its treacherous path.
The owls hoot, the stars shine wickedly— brighter than nights before. Wind blew of an ominous echo. Even nature has its ways to express distress.
Her steps halted and her breath hitched as her gaze fell on the board with words carved 'leaving Gavaldon' in bold. Her decision to leave felt so heavy that her forehead creased with apprehension and her brow weighed with a burden she dreaded to carry.
Leaving would mean finding herself, finding happiness. But it also meant disappointing the only people she cared about.
Gnawing at her lip lightly, Sophie paused. She turned away from the sign— doubt starting to rise. The emotions was overflowing, she wanted to pull at her hair, sink her rage into something and let it die as her feeble emotion wilt into nothing.
Sophie felt tears pricked the corners of her eye, begging to cascade down and let her heart thrashed with a ripe sadness just so she could feel peace of letting it all go.
—
EVANGELINE'S LUCK HAD ALWAYS BEEN HER DOWNFALL. She had been late again, and being tardy in the Stark household means consequences awaits with mercy and pity being scarce.
