Alfinians Rise

I am ready

I leave the next morning, leather jacket wrapped around my thin body, boots laced up, and face hidden under my hood and scarf. My small bag thumps softly against my back as I walk through the deserted streets. The sky was still painted a sickly blueish black when I stepped out the front door and into the silent streets lined with unlit building structures where mere strangers continue to sleep. It wasn't until after about an hour or so of walking that the colors of purple and grey began to dance across the sky as the sun rose behind them. I walk alongside the howling wind, constantly muttering to myself underneath my breath as I tend to do when I find myself alone during my travels. 

I'd long ago abandoned the town where the sleeping lions lie, now surrounded by vast dying earth, I feel a pang of sorrow in my chest. I've heard stories of what places like this used to be... trees stretching up to the clouds, sweet, lush green grass as tall as I, and air so sweet you could taste it. A magnificent beauty to behold, however unappreciated it may have been while it lasted. 

I sigh, leaning over and dipping my hand into what was once brown soil, but now remains in the form of grey ash and sand. I watch, hypnotized almost, as the coarse particles strain through my fingers until the very last grain has been returned to the ground. 

My stomach growls as I push back onto my feet. Man, I'm hungry... maybe I should've stayed long enough to eat....No...It's good that I left unnoticed. Had I stayed I might have had to see him.

Almost instantly my cheeks begin to flush hard, his gorgeous face reappearing in my head. I don't understand it. There's just...something different about him... shaking the thought from my head as I push on. 

It's about midday when I finally stop to rest. I lay back, belly up, alongside a trickling creek with water as grey as the earth around it. Warmth floods me as the sunlight bathes over the red leather shielding me from the intense winds. I lift my hands, turning them over, observing them. On the surface, they're just hands. Underneath, however, lies a weapon. A powerful weapon. A weapon they would kill for. I shudder, curling my hands into fists, lowering them back to the ground in frustration. A weapon they have killed countless times.

Groaning, I replay the events in my head for the hundredth time. The marketplace where we had our first encounter. His green eyes meeting mine through the crowd. Wait.... green? I whip to a sitting position, a head rush from the sudden movement, blotting my vision for a moment.

"Green? But last night they were clearly purple...." I say aloud, scrambling to gather my thoughts. "Maybe my memory is off..." I mutter. However, something isn't sitting right with me. I push to my feet once more, forcing the unsettling feeling to the far depths of my mind. I continue walking with renewed tenacity along the cracked, rocky road that used to be a major highway.

The worst part about traveling alone is that those with weak minds go berserk. the human desire for companionship ravaging their minds until all sanity is lost. Lucky for me, I'm not one of such low mental capacity. Rather, I quite enjoy the time in isolation. It's the only time I can ever be myself anymore. The only time I can ever breathe. Sweat trickles down my back and forehead as the scorching sun beams overhead. 

I'm alone. Alone in the middle of absolutely nowhere to be exact. Still about a solid two days out from the next major town. What was it called again? It was Marsh something....or perhaps something V...Veal? No wait, that's food.

I ponder over a list of names in my head, unsure as to whether or not my memory really is failing me, or perhaps I never knew the name to begin with. It's recalling small details, such as the name of a city, that keeps things entertaining during the long days of travel. Heck, once I even put on a little play for myself starring me for an audience consisting of random sticks I found on the side of the road. Okay, maybe I am a bit crazy.