Title of your work - Tentitivly titled 'Children of the Gods'
Genre - Fantasy ... like there's any surprise
Rating - R for blood and dead woman
There were many things Verdandi knew about herself. She knew her hair was long and a sort of rusty brown color. She knew her skin was pale and spattered with freckles. She knew she was a little short, that she was a few months shy of twenty, and that her eyes were a pale, milky blue color. She also knew that she was as blind as a bat. The things that Verdandi didn't know, while fewer in number, occupied her mind more than anything. She didn't quite understand how she'd lost her sight and she didn't know why her mother had been killed. The two had very much to do with each other, though. That was another known fact in her head that no one seemed to believe.
Nearly ten years ago, Verdandi had come home from school, joyously tossing her bag onto the living room couch while calling out for her mother. She'd started jabbering loudly about her day and was half way through explaining her math lesson when she realized her mother hadn't answered her. A tiny stab of fear had shot through her but she was sure her mother was simply busy and hadn't heard her. She slowly pushed the door to the kitchen open, calling out as she did so. There was no one there, which was odd since her mother was always in there when she came home. There was a strange red puddle on the floor slowly spreading from behind the island in the center of the kitchen, causing Verdandi's heart to lurch. She turned around, ready to run from the house to the neighbor's when she noticed a strange word splashed in red on the pristine white of the door. It wasn't in english or anything else she had ever seen, but somehow she'd known the word.
She'd mouthed the word as she stared at it in confusion. Suddenly the mark started glowing a violent red. She backed away from the door, her wide eyes glued to the door as angry red tendrils of light shot out toward her. Her foot slipped in the puddle on the floor and she was suddenly on her back. She must have cracked her head on the floor, for everything swam infront of her eyes as she stared up at the kitchen ceiling. Lifting her hand to touch her forehead, she saw her hand was covered in the red stuff and she had to stifle a scream. Her mind had registered it as blood when she first saw it, but she didn't want to believe it. Now she could smell the coppery scent of it and knew what had happened to her mother. She turned her head slowly to the right and saw her mother laying face down, her beautiful brown hair thick with congealing blood. Her mouth opened to scream but a slice of pain across her cheek snapped her attention back to the red things floating over her.
“Betrayer,” it hissed, barely louder than a whisper.
Whimpering in fear, she'd covered her eyes with her hands as they pierced her body, impaling her to the floor. Blinding pain raced along every nerve and she was sure she'd die like her mother. She had awoken in the hospital three weeks later, her body bandaged and her sight gone. No one believed her when she'd told them what happened. They thought it was just the imagination of a young girl unhinged by finding her dead mother. The doctors had decreed that she had been attacked by the same person who'd killed her mother and that had caused her to lose her sight. Feeling helpless and very afraid, she allowed herself to be swept up by the state and placed into a home.
That didn't last long, however. As soon as she'd hit sixteen, she turned into an absolute terror that no one wanted in their house. She might be blind but she could still raise bloody hell. That was when Axel had taken her in. From his voice, she determined that he was an old man, maybe in his mid-seventies. He walked with a cane, constantly smelled of pain rub, but he had an unusually sharp mind. He told her he'd heard her story and had believed what she'd told the investigators. When she asked him why, he'd said that he would tell her in time. In the three years she'd been living with him, he'd told her many things, but that still remained something he dangled over her head. She also had no idea what he looked like. Many people let her gently run her fingers over their face so she could get a mental picture of what they looked like. But Axel refused. It was the one time he'd snapped at her and stormed out of the room. She hadn't seen him for the rest of the day. When she brought it up again a few days later, he'd yelled at her with such anger that she never asked him again.
There were three heavy knocks on the door, breaking her from her reverie. As if on cue, Axel's raspy voice came drifting from the other side, “Dandi, are you awake in there? It's nearly nine.”
“Yes, I'm up,” she said as she sat up, “I'm just day dreaming.”
Axel snorted and she heard his cane thump against the wood floor, “I've got to run into town in an hour. If you're coming with, get yourself ready.”
“Yessir!” she replied, smiling as she rose from her bed.
He snorted once more and the repetitive thumps on the floor told her he was walking away. She slowly made her way around the room, gathering her clothes and getting ready for the day. She knew where everything was in the house and didn't really need her walking cane while she was home. There was an aide that came to the house three times a week to help out and she was very good at remembering not to move things around too much on her. Sometimes, though, she was sure Axel moved things to throw her off.
She snorted as she tugged her shirt over her head. Axel did a lot of strange things but he was the only person in the world she trusted. Her fingers lightly danced over the table next to her bed until she felt the cold metal of the folded cane. Humming quietly to herself, she made her way to the door and left the memories that were dancing through her head for a little while.
NOW IT'S OFF TO THE FAIR!