Helical Am No

1

  The memories glide out of my eyes and roll down my cheek towards the dancing flames, where its heat evaporates them into steam that caresses my cheek. I sit there staring bitterly at the blaze while others started to surround the bonfire as well. The black of their clothing seemed to illuminate the sea of flames even stronger, even hotter, the sound even more thundering - or it could have been the stacks of paper that they threw into the fire. The smell of burned paper and ink filled my nostrils, almost suffocating me, but all I could do was to stare down at my own painfully blank sheets. The edges were stained in a dark yellow and folded towards the center, dots of ink marked the left upper corner, some of them looked more like circles due to the lighter centers caused in reaction with the salty tears. The Celebration of Enlightenment is supposed to celebrate the death of the evil witch by burning all of the evil you have done that year, but what if you just can't let go? Helical pressed his body against my hand as if he could read my thoughts and I numbly stroked his fur. I barely felt the razor sharp edges of every hair slicing against my skin but I still made a mental note to comb him sometime soon. Helical - or Helical Am No which is his full name, a name so odd that even I couldn't think of that, just appeared one day in June.[Might need to change depending on backstory.] His red collar with bronze charm carried his name, which made me presume he had an owner. For some reason he decided to stay by my side and he has been with me ever since, always there when I need him the most. While still staring at the blank pages before me, I started to hear people giving voices to the regrets they had been able to put on paper, unlike myself, and from multiple places sobs could be heard. With every breath the air felt heavier, the fire's heat more oppressive and the world even more against me. My sight became blurry upon till the point that I could only see the yellow colors against the harsh black background and I promptly grabbed my black handkerchief and erased the tears from behind my thick brown round-glasses. A soft meow broke me from the trance and I noticed that I weren't staring at the fire but at his yellow eyes, shining almost like two moons in contrast to his black fur. A last glance at the fire returned the oppressive feeling and so I decided to pack my papers and ink into my purse, and slowly I walked away; towards the cozy clock-tower I called home.

The light of dawn shined through the face of the clock, glaring almost judgingly at Mabelle, like it was wondering when she would finally wake up to reality. She sat in a sideways position with her legs slowly kicking over the arm of her favorite reading chair, the book was still folded open in her lap, resting on the last page. Her tea had gotten cold when she finally closed the book and she put it on the hill of other well worn finished worlds, that gave the room a musky but nostalgic smell. It's been a long time since Mabelle saw the actual light of the sun, but since the moon seemed to change in brightness at different hours of the day, people started to call it morning around that time. The low bass of the abrupt ringing bell right above her ripped her out of her painful daydream and it echoed through Mabelle's body like a hundred tiny - but very heavy - spiders just walked over her. She strolled towards the face of the clock - that also happened to be a gigantic window, and looked down at the main street below her. A sea of white just washed over the dark, illuminated by as well as the sober street lanterns as the sparkling light of the moon. The people slowly made their way towards the town center where the wood of the bonfire from the night before still smoldered in a beautiful hue of red. People started to gather around it while vials filled with something bright were exchanged with one another. She tried to reach out towards them, but her hand only reached the cold glass. Mabelle averted her gaze towards the moon, she cried a silent tear of air. She never got a vial of moonlight before, only those who were able to confess their mistakes and be forgiven - as well as by themselves as by others - were able to get one. They would fill the house with bright light on the darkest nights, a reminder of the light they gained by owning up to their mistakes and so destroying the evil inside of them. Her house however was always dark, the moon would only occasionally reach the window, like it felt sorry for her. She forced herself to look down again, at the very thing she gave up so long ago and to the only thing that she had left. Helical rested his paws on the metal frame and eagerly followed the white dots with his eyes, while his tail curled up around Mabelle's leg. The bell rang again but this time it didn't catch her by surprise. The people all sat down on the same benches as they did the night before, but this time their gaze was locked upon an old man, standing at the edge of the still but barely smoldering fire. He started to speak and even though Mabelle couldn't hear the words coming out of his mouth, she knew exactly what he was going to tell, the same tale that has been told for as long as they did reside on this island - but for everyone down their it was like they heard it for the very first time. It was of course the tale of the defeat of the evil witch, a tale that still tormented her mind upon this very day. The old man down below told about a witch that wanted to steal all of the magic in the world and use it for evil, until one day a hero defeated her and she got banished to another realm. The crowd cheered and clapped when the elder had finished the story, like it was just the end of an everyday play. Like it was just another fairy tale.

When you look around Hazelpeak Island, the huge clock-tower is the first thing that will draw your attention. It will lure you to a small town called Hazelsfall. When you enter the town, you can hear a huge metal sign shrieking above you, the paint seemed to be peeled off mostly, trying to reveal another name that's long forgotten - and probably will be, since that paint is in even worse condition. Once you have overcome your fear of being crushed by that chunk of metal and walk past it, you see the broken pebbled streets, that could even make a fish seasick, and the dead trees that decorate them. They house old metal lanterns with a burning wick that refuses to reduce in size. When the fog finally slitters away from the streets, you will be able to identify the houses that decorate them. Their dark stone almost fades away against the blackened sky. Their roofs are pointy and spiky, but that doesn't seem to bother the crows that swarm around them. From the edge of town you have a beautiful view of the forest "The Wayward Woods" as the locals like to call it. It has dark trees and an ever breathing wind that makes the trees move in a ghostly unison. Their shadows always eerily looming over its denizens, like they could grab you any moment and drag you into the unknown.
When you stand still on an ordinary day in Hazelsfall and close your eyes, you can hear the houses and trees moaning in the wind. Crows caw and cackle, over the sounds of peopling babbling on the streets. You can hear the footsteps of the people passing you by and the wheels of carriages rumble as their wheels briefly get caught in the uneven roads. The shop signs creak rusty in the wind, as if it wants to join the trees outside.
The streets smell like any street does in this time period - like mud, rain, smoke - but not the fog. The fog smells deep earthly combined with the smell of melted metal, burned meat and gas instead of the fresh smell of the ocean. That's not so weird considering this island is floating on a sea of stars, Mabelle thought to herself. The people in white were now scattered through the town, almost dwelling in it like ghosts. As a blueberry fallen in a pack of snow, Mabelle walked through town. Her sigh filled the cold air with a thin layer of steam, even now nobody payed attention to her. A few cold drops land in her neck when she went to bow down to pet Helical on his little furry head. Frozen in shock but somehow still being able to shiver from the cold Mabelle jerked her head around to look at the sky above, but her eyes went back down in disappointment almost immediately. Well there was a cloud above her, but it didn't rain. The cloud-milker on top of it just managed to overfill his bottle of water and it just so happened to land on her neck. Behind her a woman started yelling in a voice that would scare even the bravest man: 'Do not spill any of that water Alan or you won't get any of it for dinner tonight!' Her jaws where still being hold together by the sheer force of her anger. Mabelle was surprised that the bellowing voice didn't shake the ladder she was holding, she was also surprised that she herself just walked under it without even noticing it. So just another cloud milker, they were quite common after all. The clouds floating above them didn't want to give their water for free; for unknown reasons it didn't want to rain at all. The thin bleak young man on top of the ladder was holding the bottle of water with one hand and a old dirty cloth in the other, while clasping his feet in between the small space left by the bars. By the time his lady expressed her feelings of his incompetence at him he had already exchanged the filled bottle with an empty one from his enormous backpack. He screamed something inaudible back before he started rubbing the bottle and the water just flew straight into it like magic - well of course it wasn't magic but static electricity comes pretty close. However if it was magic, surely it would have been something the young lad was terrible at. With some effort she was able to turn her gaze down wards toward Helical, but there was nothing left to be seen of the cat. A smile appeared on Mabelle's face as she continued her way through town.

The everlasting autumn wind felt cold against Mabelle's pale skin. She was leaning against an old metal fence, staring at the night sky. The sky was overflown with stars, which was still bewildering to her after all this time. However, she still missed the vibrant colors of the morning sky, how the rays of the sun could just warp clouds into the most warm of colors. 'Maybe one day I might see the sun set again and let it consume all of the darkness of the other day' she softly whispered. Like a spell she heard the creaking of the metal shop signs enter her ears and the wind started to jerk at her navy blue dress and and black cloak. She turned around, vague brown shapes were already gliding towards her like snakes. Before Mabelle even could do as much as blink, they were already curled around her ankles. The last thing she heard were the warped voices before she got swept away, laughing at her.