---o---
❝ Their end is fixed to their beginning; as the flame is bound to the coal — And the embers to ash.
It is the curse of needing to know one’s past, and the curse of needing to run from it. I know it well, after all, that story is my own. ❞
---o---
Laden breaths feel sharply the icen mist clung to black hair contrasting pallid skin dampened by tears and blood. Bare feet ran upon mudded cobblestone, disregarding the blisters on heel. How long has she been running? The memory was as vague as the mist that toiled around her. Her eyes stung, but she deigned not to rub more dirt into them; the greyed orbs already reflected the sky and the fatigue clawing at her, but the hot thrill of fear kept her from resting.
She couldn’t remember what pursued her, nor did she know the foreign backdrop of dull blackness parting through the canopy of trees looming above. The faint iota of light gifted left her uneasy, not from its presence, but rather its source: Four moons hung yonder, crescent shades staggered their phases, all of them placed so that no matter what direction she ran, they beckoned her arrival and dogged her every step. Her foot slipped, almost falling to her rear, yet she staggered forward with no halt. The markings of rain fell upon her, droplets adding to the stark coldness and the puddles which rippled beneath her feet.
---o---
Ripples formed on the surface of water pooled in the cracks of brick-faced sandstone, reflecting the sun above. Petrichor hung on nose and tongue as the warmth of morning sun already produced dry heat. The scents and sounds of morning thrum swelled a strange mix of excitement and trepidation as step proceeded step, eyes locked on what lay beyond. Dirty pink locks danced with cyan eyes as her small frame slipped through narrow gaps, scanning the coloured backdrop. Boots dashed through the narrow streets, winding like a labyrinth, ducking and weaving through the detritus left in the back alleys, removed from the thrum of life that sang sweetly all around her.
With narrowed eyes and a turn of her heel, she broke through to the main pulse of the city with little care for those she bumped into or where her feet found themselves. Paying no mind as she leapt through a parasol and table—vaulting over stone partitions that separated the footpath from the canals that snaked through the city. Surely, she would land in cold water, yet her boots found themselves atop the bow of a gondola that dipped the moment her foot kicked off to reach the other side.
---o---
Eyes darted frantically to the dancing shadows causing her to slide to a halt only to change course down a narrowed path that only seemed to close in on her. Any mixture of emotions she felt made way for blind panic, moving on autopilot with little awareness of her surroundings, barely perceiving the crowded bushes she ran through, ignoring the cuts and scrapes traded for broken branches and trodden leaves.
Far too ensconced on her perusers, she took no heed to the encroaching drop that awaited her. By the time she did, the ground was far too slippery for her to stop in time. The feeling of her breath forced from her lungs as the ground gave way beneath her, accompanied by a whimper. Too late. It was a little too late for her to realise her mistake as her feet gave way to open air above a small break in a flowing stream of water where a bridge once lay.
---o---
A brief sense of panic passed as she felt herself drop, subsiding when her hand managed to grab hold of a draped sheet hanging over a balcony, which gave her the momentum to land on her feet on the ledge of a large open window. Right through a small window, she dove through in pursuit without realising the significant drop she now faced, and the slip of the figure who had scaled the outer walls of the residence.
She had no time to think, twisting herself around as her left arm reached under her right, the gloved hand splayed a thick rope from under her sleeve. It wrapped tightly around a protruding pipe, allowing her to reel herself back in and swing around to join the path leading to her charge. However, a slip of hand caused her to almost fall out but ended with a tumble into a line of potted plants and falling face-first as she tried to tuck and roll into them.
---o---
The taste of mud and grass was not pleasant, but it did temporarily mask the bitterness of the blood. The enticing weight of sleepiness held her down in arrest, almost enough to lull her into its waiting maw. Hands desperately reached out to grab onto the stone that was once a bridge, now a gap she hung above roiling waters. Her vision blurred, unsure of what direction she now faced, she reached out as if to grab hold of something that was not there. She could feel herself slipping; the tired whimpers broke, the wheezing coughs did not allow her the pleasure of letting go.
Fumbling for something solid to pry herself up, her hand found the splintered stake of a fence, disregarding the sharp sting as she pulled herself up. Once knelt upon splintered wood and nail, her hands clenched the meagre rags she wore until her knuckles were white, should they manage pallor beyond her ghostly shade.
---o---
Brows knitted and nose curled as she placed her thumb on one nostril, excavating the clump of dirt lodged inside. Unkept tresses shook the dust and dirt from shoulders as hands reached out to grab the rim of a large potted plant. Prying herself up onto her feet, she grunted while glancing down at her clothes, now torn and dirty, pulling the loosely fitted cloak tunic over her petite frame. She tugged the now-tangled rope a few times until it broke free and retracted as though on a reel. The clutter of a small weight at its end dragged across the ground until it rested in her hand. A pendant of sorts, the roughly hewn image of two birds shown on each side of the flat and roughly hewn chunk of metal now slipped under her sleeve.
A soundless whimper elicited from the sharp ache she felt that stopped her to a feeble limp. Staggering into the closest wall, she slumped into it, taking a moment not only to catch her breath, but to check whether or not it was broken. A sigh of relief indicated it wasn’t, but it was surely sprained, and that fact wasn’t lost on her. Her hands balled into fists; the urge to punch something floated to the surface but was pushed back down by the knowing sense of urgency. Thankfully, a door blocked her path.
---o---
Wanting so much to break down into a sobbing fit, she bit her already cut lip until it drew blood, once more using her brief reprieve not to hide, but to steel herself. Coughs fade as she slows shaky breaths, attempting to stop the trembling, not only a consequence of the cold. Dragging herself along the sodden path, the clammy cold mixed with exhaustion made her head spin and stagger.
The clouds parted to show the dimly lit path before her, and she wasted no time before setting off once more. She staggered again, feeling the sharp pain down her leg, which her eyes followed to a swollen ankle. If she spoke, no sound was audible, but it did not hinder her escape; instead, it made it easier for her pursuers. Smudged footprints left trace of her discordant path, so sure of herself that soon there would be another, and perhaps more to join them.
---o---
Distance was the boon of the hare and the wolf; its fuel was both elation and fear, something felt deep in her bones, familiar to her like a mother’s embrace. She bit her lip to stop it from shaking, leaning forward to step broken into a sprint, either forgetting or ignoring the pounding pain she felt. And thus she leapt and beelined for it, barging through the door of a small home. Once more pressing forward with feet bounding over shingled roof and wooden frames, her focus downward upon the busy streets below as she made use of the partitions and rooftop environment to meet them on the same level. There was no time for rest; the more time lost, the more distance gained.
The heat of adrenaline was wearing off on her, but she gave it no right to cease. She was closing in; she could taste it. Her feet now back in rhythm with her body, nimbly ducking and weaving through her environment, eyes locked on the hooded figure in the streets below. Her focus sharpened with her teeth; she wasn’t going to let this one escape. Not now, not ever! Her train of thought shattered as she ran right into someone, feeling her shoulder collide with another, completely winding her, almost resulting in her tasting dirt once more.
---o---
The rustling behind jolted her attention to face that which pursued her, closing in. She screamed, falling to the floor and grabbing her head as though it would save her. The sudden pressure change washed over her; the rain had now subsided, and the faint warmth of the sun was replaced by the sudden brightness, which made her squint. She looked upwards, her eyes darting around frantically in confusion. Before she had the time to speak, the force of another running into her pushed her back down with a thud.
---o---
Stunned, she staggered forward and briefly looked back toward the girl who now lay motionless. Hesitating, she kicked herself for not going back to help, but instead kept her pursuit. Not even noticing that she, too, was now soaked through as though she ran through a fountain. The cloying cold did creep on her, but much like everything else, it was pushed to the side for the moment. She glanced back one more time and regretted it ever since.
---o---
