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Out of the Kettle, and Into the Fire

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Out of the Kettle, and Into the Fire

Post by Dorian Nightmist on Thu Oct 17, 2013 10:57 pm

Upon torn paper, in a dirty, disheveled, and long discarded book, there were etched the words of some unknown author.

Every day was torment. Every day was rife with pain. From the moment eyes opened, and the light of the world was glimpsed, the word 'killer' danced about me. I looked upon my supposed family, those that were deemed my kin, my blood, my own; hatred looked back at me. In time, that hatred found its way back to them. Before I could speak, I found hate. Before I knew its meaning, contempt burned within me.

For time feeling far longer than it was, I found disgust, hate, and a lack of want for me. The single beacon among these miscreants, was a single girl. She was called my sister; she was called Raina. Raina showed care, love, and desire for me. She wished me to be around. Perhaps for selfish reasons, for she too seemed to receive no love, but whether for selfish reasons or not, she showed herself to be a mother for me, in place of the one left dead at my birth, gone before I could know her, seemingly because of my ushering into this world. This was what earned me that contempt. But she, Raina, did not seem to blame me. She loved me, and I loved her.

Those long years, I shall not pain myself to write down. I dare not relive those memories, in full, yet again. But, at the age of 8, their torture stopped. My body, still to this day, bares the marks of such torture, but the whip has stopped. The voices are gone. The heat of fire no longer pains my own skin. And I can only hope, that Raina, no longer must feel that pain.

Where is she? I wish I knew. One might think it odd that in the care we held for each other, that nothing could part us. However, something did. Or, I should say someone did. My father and older brothers are all dead, charred in their final moments in the fires of my anger and contempt for them. Yet, they did not have her. Higashi no Ryu lays in waste in the "Ever-Autumn," but still, there lies no clue as to where she is. Did they have her? Was she there, and moved to some other hideout for father and his family? Or does my mother's family? Does grandmother lie to me, and have her hidden away somewhere?
The rest of the page is black char.
Dorian Nightmist

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Re: Out of the Kettle, and Into the Fire

Post by Dorian Nightmist on Fri Oct 18, 2013 1:53 am

A few pages were likewise charred completely, leaving nothing but jagged bits of black page between the last and the next readable entry.

The sensation etched into my flesh of the first was of fire eating away at my body, rendering my raw and sensitive to touch. The second was vile, as if poison coursed through my veins, bloating them till they split out of my skin. Looking upon myself afterward, however, all that was revealed as different, was the emblems of their organizations emblazoned upon my flesh. In the end, both were far more detestable than the original sensations.

Serpents twined themselves along my arms, with mouths open and fangs born for my neck : A Dragon with wings spread open, seemingly hovering in place : These are what sat upon my skin as a reminder, for as long as I lived, of my heritage. As if I needed a reminder of the horrid people I am associated with. As if I needed to, or even wanted to, remember who were my family. That lone voice, chastising me every day of my life, was seemingly not the only torture I would be forced to endure for the rest of my days.

Much knowledge has been gained, of magic, secrecy, intrigue, and combat. No knowledge has been gained of Raina's whereabouts. I learn more and more about both sides of my family, while more and more I wish to forget. This only brings more torture, as Jinnzou seems inclined to evermore remind me of how weak and pathetic I am. I do not deny him now. He is right, but no matter how much I try, I always end up in need of him to finish the tough jobs.

I hate him, and wish he would leave me be, but it does no good. No matter how vehemently I tell him to leave, it seems to only encourage him to come more often, or linger longer. I've even tried not talking to him at all and ignoring him completely. This only seems to anger him, and once more I am left with him lingering about me. Where he hides, I cannot tell. He seems to excel my skill at stealth, no matter how quickly I have learned and progress.
And once more, the rest of the page is burnt away.
Dorian Nightmist

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