concordia discors | prologue | open
Cliffside was a pleasant place to be, far moreso than the city. The breeze was fresh but feather-light in its touch, dancing across her skin and gently stirring the dark waves of her hair yet not tousling it. The sky was an endless azure summer haze that seemed to melt into the sea on the horizon. In the city the buildings seemed to swelter and bake in the embryonic stages of summer - here it was still spring, and her lungs felt clearer than they had been in months.
Yes, Kohana thought, hands folded tightly in front of her. Cliffside was quite a beautiful prison indeed.
She did not consider herself a cynic, but a realist. Looking back through the scrambled mist of her memory, each piece of this puzzle slotted snugly in place, just as definite and final as the closing of the gates, so much so that it was infuriating that she was only seeing now with the benefit of hindsight. Kohana remembered looking at the others, the fifteen of them waiting for the coach, and seeing not a single familiar face. How had she, the most sensible of all her class, been the one without the sense to avoid this?
Kohana dug her thumbnail into her palm to sharply reprimand herself. Having been snapped out of her self deprecation, she forced herself to think logically. She’d had several perfectly valid reasons for accepting the invitation; it would not do to dwell on the past. What was done was done, and despite her talent, she knew that it was only counterproductive to squander so much of one’s energy of what had been without looking forward to the future.
This was a prison: that she had accepted. Now all of her energies would have to be dedicated to finding a way out.
“Facilis descensus Averno,” She murmured. The Latin was familiar, one of the first lines she’d ever memorised by heart; it flowed easily from her mind and on her tongue, soothing in its familiarity. Yes, it would be quite improper of her to fret.
With that decided, Kohana primly took her bag and extracted herself from the group. For now, at least, their captors were giving them a brief period of calm respite. No doubt soon they would announce that they were being held ransom or something of the sort - for now, all she could hope to do was entertain herself until some drastic change came.
It was to that end that she ended up perched on a swing not far from the rest of the students, heels firmly dug into the ground to keep her stationary and hands neatly folded in her lap. She was watching the group, sea blue eyes cool and calm and face betraying not so much as a shred of concern. Her bag lay on the ground next to her.
She turned her head ever so slightly when she heard the sound of someone approaching, and her previously neutral mask changed to adopt a slight yet polite smile.
“Looking for peace and quiet too?”
