Post by Chani {♥} on Mar 11, 2008 6:27:09 GMT -5
"Yes, tea is often served hot," Kokomai said. "I apologize. I should have warned you." She took another sip of tea. "It tastes good?" She smiled. If Elai liked the tea now, Kokomai was sure she'd love it if they could find some sugar. Kokomai liked her tea plain, but she found that most liked it sweetened. She put another slab on the metal plate, as Elai hadn't answered whether or not she wanted more. Kokomai decided that, either way, it would be best. She wasn't going to waste meat; she didn't believe in the pointless killing of animals. She finished off eating her slab and drinking her cup of tea before pouring herself another one and stirring the fire. She took a sip, staring into the flames pensively.
Black, charred shambles of what had once been beautiful cottages and warm homesteads were all that was left of her village. Panic, a constricting snake of hopelessness, gripped Kokomai's chest. As the horrifying scene settled in her mind for what she did not yet realize would be forever, the putrid smell of things that had burned and been left to decay for days filled her nostrils. It couldn't happen to her, not again. Things this terrible could not happen to a person twice in a lifetime! It just couldn't be...
Finally, she breathed again, but it didn't feel like breathing. Her heart beat faster than ever, and so it was ironic that Kokomai felt something in her die. She ran down the main path of the village with all the speed her legs would lend her, but it didn't feel like she was going anywhere. Nothing she did, nothing that happened, meant anything. She had nothing left, and so was no one. She tried to yell for her mother, as if to call her from the threshold of death, but she couldn't form words. Words wouldn't mean anything.
She came to what had been her home and plunged herself into the mess of fractured pillars and charred beams lying prostrate over what could be her mother's body. She dug, stirring the ashes into the air so that breathing became even harder for her. Her throat burned, as did her arms after so much work, but those matters were obsolete. Her mother couldn't be dead. No, she was overreacting. She would find her mother in this rubble somewhere, still breathing, and heal her back into the vibrant being she had been before Kokomai's departure.
It must have been an hour later, but it had seemed as if she had been digging for weeks. Every movement had taken hours, seemingly, because every second could be her mother's last breath. She wouldn't accept that her mother had already taken it, without her dear daughter by her side. Kokomai ran into the street again and began searching houses of family friends where her mother might have been during the fight.
It was nightfall before she found the corpse under a scorched frame. Her skin had been burned, the skin had festered, distorted with decay... only Kokomai could have recognized her, with that silver necklace broken, but clutched in her hand. The metal had grown hot during the fire, her mother's partial hand had had the chain's impression burned into it.
Grandmother Salyra had once told Kokomai: "Revenge clouds the mind, weakens the heart, and, above all, can never be relinquished." Could it be that, in searching for vengeance, Kokomai had left her mother to this fate? That it was her fault? An acceptance that could have killed a weaker person, filled their soul with agony until it exploded and left the fragments to scatter in the winds, took hold of Kokomai. It seemed to fill her full and make her feel entirely empty at the same time. With the obliteration of so many things she thought would last forever, she let out a scream. What word she screamed was unrecognizable, as her voice was torn by unfathomable pain, anguish, and grief. It was loud and she carried it through until her lungs felt as if they would collapse. Then she inhaled and merely screamed again, forgetting that the acrid ashes in the air were searing her throat. Again and again her shrieks of pain filled the air as tears flowed down her cheeks. She yelled until her voice left her, and then she sobbed silently as she climbed to her feet and ran, again. She ran blindly until she fainted in the forest from exhaustion.
Black, charred shambles of what had once been beautiful cottages and warm homesteads were all that was left of her village. Panic, a constricting snake of hopelessness, gripped Kokomai's chest. As the horrifying scene settled in her mind for what she did not yet realize would be forever, the putrid smell of things that had burned and been left to decay for days filled her nostrils. It couldn't happen to her, not again. Things this terrible could not happen to a person twice in a lifetime! It just couldn't be...
Finally, she breathed again, but it didn't feel like breathing. Her heart beat faster than ever, and so it was ironic that Kokomai felt something in her die. She ran down the main path of the village with all the speed her legs would lend her, but it didn't feel like she was going anywhere. Nothing she did, nothing that happened, meant anything. She had nothing left, and so was no one. She tried to yell for her mother, as if to call her from the threshold of death, but she couldn't form words. Words wouldn't mean anything.
She came to what had been her home and plunged herself into the mess of fractured pillars and charred beams lying prostrate over what could be her mother's body. She dug, stirring the ashes into the air so that breathing became even harder for her. Her throat burned, as did her arms after so much work, but those matters were obsolete. Her mother couldn't be dead. No, she was overreacting. She would find her mother in this rubble somewhere, still breathing, and heal her back into the vibrant being she had been before Kokomai's departure.
It must have been an hour later, but it had seemed as if she had been digging for weeks. Every movement had taken hours, seemingly, because every second could be her mother's last breath. She wouldn't accept that her mother had already taken it, without her dear daughter by her side. Kokomai ran into the street again and began searching houses of family friends where her mother might have been during the fight.
It was nightfall before she found the corpse under a scorched frame. Her skin had been burned, the skin had festered, distorted with decay... only Kokomai could have recognized her, with that silver necklace broken, but clutched in her hand. The metal had grown hot during the fire, her mother's partial hand had had the chain's impression burned into it.
Grandmother Salyra had once told Kokomai: "Revenge clouds the mind, weakens the heart, and, above all, can never be relinquished." Could it be that, in searching for vengeance, Kokomai had left her mother to this fate? That it was her fault? An acceptance that could have killed a weaker person, filled their soul with agony until it exploded and left the fragments to scatter in the winds, took hold of Kokomai. It seemed to fill her full and make her feel entirely empty at the same time. With the obliteration of so many things she thought would last forever, she let out a scream. What word she screamed was unrecognizable, as her voice was torn by unfathomable pain, anguish, and grief. It was loud and she carried it through until her lungs felt as if they would collapse. Then she inhaled and merely screamed again, forgetting that the acrid ashes in the air were searing her throat. Again and again her shrieks of pain filled the air as tears flowed down her cheeks. She yelled until her voice left her, and then she sobbed silently as she climbed to her feet and ran, again. She ran blindly until she fainted in the forest from exhaustion.