Reminiscing of the Predator
MUSIC
It was unexpected. In truth, a singular event that was so surprising it held me captive, and if I am, to be honest, still does. Lifetimes have come and gone since that moment. A fragment of memory from a different time and place. A world away and yet somehow not. The moment his bloody handprint was left upon my table.
You see, it had been but a single day and evening since the boughs of my prison had lifted. How long I had lingered in the winding paths of moss and dirt with nought a soul save the animals to keep me company? I do not know. It seemed like forever. The moment my foot touched the cobblestone path, I knew I would never again be imprisoned. Yet I confess, I held such ire for man that I could hardly control myself. I didn’t know what I know now of course. All I knew was hunger, rage, vengeance and the uncontrolled want to see them all suffer. Suffer and turn to ash for their complacency and blindness. Even the one who freed me I found no love or compassion for.
Then I saw it. The city rising from the earth to twist and shape upon the sky. I could smell them. The sweat of their skin, the blood rushed beneath it, and their aether… Ohh their aether what sweet temptations the were. Yet I was no fool. Never a fool. Long had I waited and knew nothing of this world, nor the souls in it. For all, I knew I was not the predator but easily the prey. Of course, I wasn’t the prey at all.
The sweet scent of tea held familiarity to it. It was that scent alone that made me choose the tavern that I walked into. Barefoot and dressed in torn gossamer rags, none took too much attention to me, save the pale and ethereal cast of skin. That alone seemed enough to draw suspicion, but not courage. No, they were afraid, almost instantly. Their fear churned in their blood and the aether that wafted off their souls smelt so much sweeter than that of the tea. Still, I watched, waited and was ever so patient. There was no need to rush. After all, I had already waited twice as long as they would ever live.
Then it happened. As the steam rose and twisted from my cup, the shouting began to erupt from around me. It seemed a few men had scores to settle and one among them, had no patience. In fact, he seemed eager to have them kill him. At least at first, it seemed that way. I would have ignored it, had they not bumped my table and caused my tea to spill. My ire was invoked enough to pay attention to which one I would choose to kill. Needless to say, I was easy to anger and fits of violence then.
The fight continued and as I watch, the man who I had thought happy to die, was in fact much faster than the others. His fighting was sloppy, almost comical and yet he didn’t die. I swore I saw a blade or two slip past his armour. Pain in the flicker of eyes as fist and magic came to connect to his ribs and yet there seemed to be no injury. In fact, it seemed the men he was fighting were not learning of his missteps but instead, raging on and missing what I was seeing. They didn’t fight together either. Each wanting this man’s head for a prize? It didn’t matter. The more they fought, the more their aether surged, the more I became intoxicated by it. And then the moment came.
The fighting had stopped, and the man I had been watching, turned to leave. His crimson eyes found the silver soulless hues of my own and it was familiar. Not a word was said as he walked past my table and simply slammed his hand down before me, staring and then left. It was as if he knew I would know his blood and that it did not belong here either. The look of a predator finding the gaze of another.
No one died that day, because I had found my prey and yet something told me, he had found his as well. It has been a bloody, violent, beautiful dance since then...
@nanashiabeautifulmind
