[identity profile] julia-marshal.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] estdeus_innobis

Location: Road leading back into Excolo

Night of Friday, September 11th

 

 

I wonder at the pale shade of my skin in the moonlight.

 

It’s been a long day with promises of it being longer if I don’t hurry back to town. It started out innocent enough, running a few errands, bringing out a basket of goods baked in the Abbey to the home of one of our church going families. They know back at Notre Dame I’m in a tizzy to get out into the world again, so it’s been up to me to run a few places here and there visiting some of the sick in our congregation.

 

The way out there had been simple; a few farm folk in town had offered me a ride out to another home on their way back. I’d taken it gratefully and at face value. My goods delivered I should have started on the trek back, however, like always my chatting with the family seemed to have gotten away with me, and by the time I had turned to leave, the sun was going down.

 

Which leaves me on the road now, no sound around me except for my humming of a song I learned as a child at the Abbey about the goodness of Nanshe and of course the stubborn crickets that seem most intent on waiting out the coming fall with their small songs.

 

My sandaled feet trip along the path, every so often kicking a stone or small clod of dirt in tempo with my humming, a hand swishes a little at my waist directing the melody in my head, causing my robe’s sleeves which I had unbuttoned earlier in the day to the elbow, to thrash around with the movement. Showing the light blue tunic fabric that is underneath, stretched over my arms.

 

When I look out at my hand holding a small basket, the white light from the orb above plays off of it, making it soft cream instead of the crisp honey it is when I work under the sun. When I was younger I was never scared of the dark, for some it was tales their parents told them to keep bad children in line, others the bumps in the night are just that much more frightening…anything could be in the shadows. For me, and all of us at the Abbey it’s a chance to thank our goddess and invite her to commune with us, even as a girl that small bit of hope outweighed any imagined evil.

 

And though my bravery in the face of the unseen is true as ever, Excolo is not the place it was in my youth. Some say the night terrors now are as real as they’ve ever been.

 

I close my eyes for the moment, sure of my feet beneath me to take me back to town. My rush to return is pressed by a rule I dare not to break, which is no one can be out of the Abbey for an overnight without the Abbesses permission, which I most certainly didn’t have.

 

This thought puts a small amount of speed to my walk, as if trying to avoid an irate driver of a buggy when you cross in front of them. But for the most part those thoughts are out of my head and I enjoy my travel back.

 

There isn’t much to observe this way, other than my extreme relief that the farm I’d been visiting was in the opposite direction than the water tower that seemed to have a few people buzzing about around town. There is a vast openness I enjoy and the cool temperatures of an autumn evening. When I finally open my eyes I am only slightly closer to town than I was before, but it isn’t the terrain the blue orbs have fallen open for.

 

It’s a sound.

 

My long hair jumps with the sudden snap of my head, sending blonde waves and the swirling ends of a long blue ribbon that is caught up in it, sailing over my shoulder.

The crickets for the moment are quiet...and so am I.

[CLOSED]

January 2014

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