Her Love is Poison, but My Love is Pure

Alternatives

'A light upon my shining blue,
a lifetime of skies before you.
A friend or a foe? Who will know?
You'll just have to look beyond the truth.'

Revali placed the feather gently back into the ink holder. He shut his book in satisfaction of his new, authentic writing. He had been working on poetry for the last few months, and was becoming more and more comfortable with his writing style. His words formed curls and mazes of wondrous mystery.

"A strong concoction. A lovely arrangement," Revali sprawled with ease as the words slipped off his tongue. When he was alone, he liked to speak poetically to get comfortable with his vocabulary.

With a wave of his wing, his feathers fell onto the page like leaves falling in the dawn of autumn. He swiped the book and placed it in his desk.

Revali sat sprawled on his bed, meditating for a few moments.

Vivacious.

Illustrous.

Concoction.

Befuddled.

Velvet.

Pounding.

Screeching.

Whimpering.

Hiss.

whatisthatnoisewhatisthatnoisewhatisthatnoisewhatisthatnois-

Clairvoyant.

~

"Revali! Open up!" A pounding on the door as my velvet carpet shook. Illustrous rays of light shone through my window.

My vivacious friend, Zelda, came through the door. She looked mildly distressed and extremely befuddled.

"Zelda, what is your concern?" I asked her. Her hands clung to her face like a painting frozen in fear.

Her cerulean eyes shone through the gaps between her fingers. Her golden hair draped down her shoulders. Her entire appearance was in utter disarray.

"Revali... where are the others," she stated, digging her fingernails slightly into her forehead. A soft velvet tear rolled down her skin.

Her hands left her face after a moment. She made this strange concoction with her fingers that made an "O" with two fingers crossing through it. She then pulled her fingers down with a crack.

She made a screeching sound in agony. It seemed her fingers had snapped. I was scared, so I grabbed the nearest medical kit and wrapped her fingers up in bandages. I hope it helped.

She whimpered as I touched her skin, as though each small contact to her hand broke it more and more. After I had been done wrapping one arm, she grabbed my wrist tightly and squeezed. I look up into her eyes to find her wearing an oddly clairvoyant expression.

"You lied to her," she whispered so softly, her voice a winter breeze.

"I don't understand," I replied.

She dug her fingers deeper into my wing. The more she squeezed, the hotter my wing felt. The feathers were turning black. I could smell an aroma like roasted Cucco. At last, she released me, and my wing cooled down with a hiss.

"Heed my warning, Rito. Dangerous people are here to hurt you," she paused, taking a deep breath. "My hand hurts, because you hurt it. Even when you try to fix things, it never will be fixed completely."

I tried to figure out what she meant, but to no avail.