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Description
Chapter 4
R'ueka
He's standing there.
I watch the wind lift his hair. His mind always seems to be floating who-knows-where; never grounded, never where it should be. His eyes always take in a different world than everyone else's do. Some had said it means something is wrong with him. To me, it made him perfect.
Watching him from afar, I cannot help but analyze him. His maple hair is gleaming bronze in the sun. As the wind lifts the strands and tufts, I'm reminded of a field of grain. He's standing as still as a marble statue, which he very likely could be at times. He has a rough, sculpted face with a stern, yet faraway, expression carved into it. He always stands at a strange angle, leaning against the wall, indifferent. As the wind picks up, a corner of his faded blue vest flaps loudly. He does not even notice. He's not part of this world.
I just stand afar off, watching. I never have the courage enough to approach him. I'm thankful just to have these opportunities to admire him. I have wished so many times just to visit his world.
I turn away, but something shifts behind me. He is right there. I can feel it. Hesitantly, I turn back to him as his eyes bore into mine. His arm extends--
It's dark. I can hardly catch my breath. Sense returns to me ever so slowly.
I hadn't thought of Duun for so long, much less dreamed about him. My heart is still beating nippily, my breathing worsening, in fact. His name had been Duín, but because of my speech impediment when I was younger I would say Duun. He thought Duín sounded a bit too feminine anyway, and preferred my nickname more often than not.. I was the only one allowed to call him Duun, though. The name sends a pang thoughout my body. I cannot think of him. I have to get away. I rise from my scanty bedding of rags and packs, sparing a glance at out two newfound companions.
There is something wrong with him. I could feel it from the first moment of his existence with us. He is not sleeping, no doubt. He does not trust neither Galaden, nor me. Dually noted. It also occurs to me that he is huddled protectively close to Mar. I've yet to unravel the many layers of his mind, but I will undeniably see to it. His distrust is mutual. I don't like him at all. Cyeran – he is aptly named.
I turn my attention elsewhere. It's not worth getting riled up right now. I will just see how things turn about with him – and keep an even closer watch on Mar. My eyes wander over to Galaden. Even in his sleep he looks contemplative. His lips are moving slightly in unintelligible mutterings. He frequently talks in his sleep – mainly about the technical of weaponry and random facts of the Siphon machinery. Still, it is entertaining to listen. Because most of what he talks about is mumbled, I pick out only tiny bits. But what I do understand and hear correctly is fascinating. Like I said before – just to get into his head… He reminds me so much of Duun. I purge those thoughts immediately. Duun is no longer a significant part of my life. He's only a memory shoved into the back of my mind. He doesn't matter. All that matters is the hunt. All that matters is my training. All that matters is the next kill. That is my purpose. That is my—
"Rueka…" The small voice carries across the room.
"I'm here." I call back quietly. I hear a bit of shuffling before feeling someone at my side. "Can't sleep?" I ask, not even turning toward Mar.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch her head movements. She's fidgeting, too. I can hear it.
"I have a solution: Don't." With that, I head toward the door, Mar scrambling after me.
"I have to ask you something," she desperately states, rushing out of the door. Without turning, I beckon her to my side. She comes a bit timidly, it seems. I can still see the child in her. She's so vulnerable. But, like a rag, she's ready to soak up everything.
I speed up. I am not ready for people. I am not ready for questions. I need to be alone. That is the only way I can think clearly. I cannot—
"Rueka…" That small voice utters again.
Against my will, my feet stop moving. I urge them on, but for some reason, they will not react. I find myself turning toward her, ready to hear her question. There is something about this girl…
Her questions starts out haltingly. "Your friend mentioned Si—Siff—" She struggles with the strange word, then suddenly remembers. "Siphon. Are those what came after us? What are they?"
"Evil…" I snarl without hesitation. My life has been affected enough by Siphon: I've seen enough to know that that statement is true. Angrily, I finger the dagger tucked into my outfit. My hand itches to duel with another opponent. Mar watches my movements closely, gauging my reaction. She is so curious. It is going to get her killed one day. Shadows flicker just out of my sight. I turn to find the source, but only see the still darkness surrounding us. My mind is playing with me again. The grip on my dagger grows lighter. The creak of wood somewhere in the ruins sends me into a panic. My hand flies up, dagger included, as I swing my body around for the attack.
Nothing…
Angrily, I stuff my dagger into its rightful slot and turn to mar right as she opens her mouth to say something. "I'm fine." I retort to her unasked question, then begin to march off, disappointed with my lack of target.
Mar races after me. Apparently her curiosity is driving her again. I sprint away from her. I don't want her prying questions. Next thing I know, she'll be asking about Du— I sprint away, leaving those memories behind. The ruins blur around me as I speed forward. As my mind begins to clear again, I close my eyes and let my feet take me where they want. The movement is mechanical. Faster and faster I sprint, losing myself in the hunt. My head is clear. I am ready to face anything. All that lies before me is the next fight. The past straggles behind, unable to catch up. I am free. I am Rueka once more. Cold, emotionless Rueka without a past; only a future. My goal becomes clear again: my target sure. I heave a sigh of relief, keeping my same pace. I had almost lost myself there… "Rueka!"
That blasted voice again!
I whirl around, yelling, "What?" with a growl. There it is in her face: child-like fear. My stare is reflected in her eyes – fierce, primal, cold… I am forced to step back and calm myself. The shock freezes me. I collapse to the ground soon after; contemplating, yet not thinking. She quietly follows. I can feel her stare on the side of my face. The wind makes strands of my hair flutter in front of my face. They are clumped and dirty, stained with the blood from my many battles. Cold reminiscence flows through me. I easily forget Mar's presence as I begin to speak.
"My city – my country – was destroyed…" The screams of victims as they were dragged away to the Holes or burned in their houses replays in my ears. I can see the destruction on these very buildings. Familiar faces blur past in panic. I watch, apathetic, as the memories torture me. I have long since detached myself from them. These aren't my eyes I am looking through: they belong to flighty, frail girl. They are not mine. The whole memory, it seems, comes back in full detail. The caustic smoke swirls around me, sneaking into my nose and mouth, suffocating me. The stench of death blankets the town. I can even feel the utter panic of the viewer as she looks for someone. "Where are you?" I hear cried out. Then, I realize my own lips are moving. Of course, the call is lost in the chorus of screams around me. Another explosion drowns out all sound for a few seconds. It knocks me to the ground. The sweltering heat around me somehow makes the impact even more painful. I have been transposed into this very girl's body! "Help!" I slowly rise to my feet. Almost immediately, I feel myself running. I hardly know what I am doing. I am consumed by the necessity to find this person. Something nags at my brain like  unfinished business. There is something I must do, but I have no idea what. All I know is that I must find this person. I quickly push past any other, rounding the corner. The sound of my bare feet slapping the ground is all thatr matters. Faster and faster as the panic grows deeper, I run. I have to find them. I have to! Then, I see his face.
Immediately I am on my feet. "I shouldn't have even told you." I growl back at Mar. I catch a glance of her clueless face as I walk numbly back to the building we found to sleep in.
For the first time, I notice that it is dawn. I haven been out longer than I had intended. With a better view, I scan my surroundings. I believe it is a habit for me now.
I'm so lost in my ritual that I almost don't notice the figure heading my way. He looks just like— no, it is only Galaden .
I put my head down and keep heading forward, keeping my focus on  getting back and packing my things. I don't want to stay in this city anymore. We need to get out as soon as possible.
I can hear those brusque, yet almost absent-minded footsteps coming closer. I fear to look up. I might be facing a phantom. The building is not very far up ahead. I can make it.
"Well!" he states with a clap. I jump. The voice is  somewhere behind me. I realize I have passed him up. "It seems we have a need to push onward." Finally, I convince myself to turn around and look at him. I meet his eyes. Before I can freeze in trepidation, I see Galaden once more. A feeling of release flows through me. The past is gone. "What do you say, Rueka?" His direct question is the last jar I need to return to be my own self again. But soon enough, my eyes land on our fellow traveler, Cyeran. His face is hard and now I know full well we have a mutual feeling. His gaze bores into mine, building up that wall that will keep me from knowing his true thoughts. Irritated, he puffs at a strand of hair in front of his face and turns away.
"Rueka?" I hear. It is Mar this time, her stare more toward Cyeran than me. I suddenly feel a pang of remorse at the way I've treated her. I'll make it up later. I have much to teach this girl.
Galaden has already started back to our shelter, my answered not exactly necessary. Cyeran hovers toward Mar.
I'll keep my distance for now, but I'm always watching.

Description
Chapter 4
R'ueka
He's standing there.
I watch the wind lift his hair. His mind always seems to be floating who-knows-where; never grounded, never where it should be. His eyes always take in a different world than everyone else's do. Some had said it means something is wrong with him. To me, it made him perfect.
Watching him from afar, I cannot help but analyze him. His maple hair is gleaming bronze in the sun. As the wind lifts the strands and tufts, I'm reminded of a field of grain. He's standing as still as a marble statue, which he very likely could be at times. He has a rough, sculpted face with a stern, yet faraway, expression carved into it. He always stands at a strange angle, leaning against the wall, indifferent. As the wind picks up, a corner of his faded blue vest flaps loudly. He does not even notice. He's not part of this world.
I just stand afar off, watching. I never have the courage enough to approach him. I'm thankful just to have these opportunities to admire him. I have wished so many times just to visit his world.
I turn away, but something shifts behind me. He is right there. I can feel it. Hesitantly, I turn back to him as his eyes bore into mine. His arm extends--
It's dark. I can hardly catch my breath. Sense returns to me ever so slowly.
I hadn't thought of Duun for so long, much less dreamed about him. My heart is still beating nippily, my breathing worsening, in fact. His name had been Duín, but because of my speech impediment when I was younger I would say Duun. He thought Duín sounded a bit too feminine anyway, and preferred my nickname more often than not.. I was the only one allowed to call him Duun, though. The name sends a pang thoughout my body. I cannot think of him. I have to get away. I rise from my scanty bedding of rags and packs, sparing a glance at out two newfound companions.
There is something wrong with him. I could feel it from the first moment of his existence with us. He is not sleeping, no doubt. He does not trust neither Galaden, nor me. Dually noted. It also occurs to me that he is huddled protectively close to Mar. I've yet to unravel the many layers of his mind, but I will undeniably see to it. His distrust is mutual. I don't like him at all. Cyeran – he is aptly named.
I turn my attention elsewhere. It's not worth getting riled up right now. I will just see how things turn about with him – and keep an even closer watch on Mar. My eyes wander over to Galaden. Even in his sleep he looks contemplative. His lips are moving slightly in unintelligible mutterings. He frequently talks in his sleep – mainly about the technical of weaponry and random facts of the Siphon machinery. Still, it is entertaining to listen. Because most of what he talks about is mumbled, I pick out only tiny bits. But what I do understand and hear correctly is fascinating. Like I said before – just to get into his head… He reminds me so much of Duun. I purge those thoughts immediately. Duun is no longer a significant part of my life. He's only a memory shoved into the back of my mind. He doesn't matter. All that matters is the hunt. All that matters is my training. All that matters is the next kill. That is my purpose. That is my—
"Rueka…" The small voice carries across the room.
"I'm here." I call back quietly. I hear a bit of shuffling before feeling someone at my side. "Can't sleep?" I ask, not even turning toward Mar.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch her head movements. She's fidgeting, too. I can hear it.
"I have a solution: Don't." With that, I head toward the door, Mar scrambling after me.
"I have to ask you something," she desperately states, rushing out of the door. Without turning, I beckon her to my side. She comes a bit timidly, it seems. I can still see the child in her. She's so vulnerable. But, like a rag, she's ready to soak up everything.
I speed up. I am not ready for people. I am not ready for questions. I need to be alone. That is the only way I can think clearly. I cannot—
"Rueka…" That small voice utters again.
Against my will, my feet stop moving. I urge them on, but for some reason, they will not react. I find myself turning toward her, ready to hear her question. There is something about this girl…
Her questions starts out haltingly. "Your friend mentioned Si—Siff—" She struggles with the strange word, then suddenly remembers. "Siphon. Are those what came after us? What are they?"
"Evil…" I snarl without hesitation. My life has been affected enough by Siphon: I've seen enough to know that that statement is true. Angrily, I finger the dagger tucked into my outfit. My hand itches to duel with another opponent. Mar watches my movements closely, gauging my reaction. She is so curious. It is going to get her killed one day. Shadows flicker just out of my sight. I turn to find the source, but only see the still darkness surrounding us. My mind is playing with me again. The grip on my dagger grows lighter. The creak of wood somewhere in the ruins sends me into a panic. My hand flies up, dagger included, as I swing my body around for the attack.
Nothing…
Angrily, I stuff my dagger into its rightful slot and turn to mar right as she opens her mouth to say something. "I'm fine." I retort to her unasked question, then begin to march off, disappointed with my lack of target.
Mar races after me. Apparently her curiosity is driving her again. I sprint away from her. I don't want her prying questions. Next thing I know, she'll be asking about Du— I sprint away, leaving those memories behind. The ruins blur around me as I speed forward. As my mind begins to clear again, I close my eyes and let my feet take me where they want. The movement is mechanical. Faster and faster I sprint, losing myself in the hunt. My head is clear. I am ready to face anything. All that lies before me is the next fight. The past straggles behind, unable to catch up. I am free. I am Rueka once more. Cold, emotionless Rueka without a past; only a future. My goal becomes clear again: my target sure. I heave a sigh of relief, keeping my same pace. I had almost lost myself there… "Rueka!"
That blasted voice again!
I whirl around, yelling, "What?" with a growl. There it is in her face: child-like fear. My stare is reflected in her eyes – fierce, primal, cold… I am forced to step back and calm myself. The shock freezes me. I collapse to the ground soon after; contemplating, yet not thinking. She quietly follows. I can feel her stare on the side of my face. The wind makes strands of my hair flutter in front of my face. They are clumped and dirty, stained with the blood from my many battles. Cold reminiscence flows through me. I easily forget Mar's presence as I begin to speak.
"My city – my country – was destroyed…" The screams of victims as they were dragged away to the Holes or burned in their houses replays in my ears. I can see the destruction on these very buildings. Familiar faces blur past in panic. I watch, apathetic, as the memories torture me. I have long since detached myself from them. These aren't my eyes I am looking through: they belong to flighty, frail girl. They are not mine. The whole memory, it seems, comes back in full detail. The caustic smoke swirls around me, sneaking into my nose and mouth, suffocating me. The stench of death blankets the town. I can even feel the utter panic of the viewer as she looks for someone. "Where are you?" I hear cried out. Then, I realize my own lips are moving. Of course, the call is lost in the chorus of screams around me. Another explosion drowns out all sound for a few seconds. It knocks me to the ground. The sweltering heat around me somehow makes the impact even more painful. I have been transposed into this very girl's body! "Help!" I slowly rise to my feet. Almost immediately, I feel myself running. I hardly know what I am doing. I am consumed by the necessity to find this person. Something nags at my brain like  unfinished business. There is something I must do, but I have no idea what. All I know is that I must find this person. I quickly push past any other, rounding the corner. The sound of my bare feet slapping the ground is all thatr matters. Faster and faster as the panic grows deeper, I run. I have to find them. I have to! Then, I see his face.
Immediately I am on my feet. "I shouldn't have even told you." I growl back at Mar. I catch a glance of her clueless face as I walk numbly back to the building we found to sleep in.
For the first time, I notice that it is dawn. I haven been out longer than I had intended. With a better view, I scan my surroundings. I believe it is a habit for me now.
I'm so lost in my ritual that I almost don't notice the figure heading my way. He looks just like— no, it is only Galaden .
I put my head down and keep heading forward, keeping my focus on  getting back and packing my things. I don't want to stay in this city anymore. We need to get out as soon as possible.
I can hear those brusque, yet almost absent-minded footsteps coming closer. I fear to look up. I might be facing a phantom. The building is not very far up ahead. I can make it.
"Well!" he states with a clap. I jump. The voice is  somewhere behind me. I realize I have passed him up. "It seems we have a need to push onward." Finally, I convince myself to turn around and look at him. I meet his eyes. Before I can freeze in trepidation, I see Galaden once more. A feeling of release flows through me. The past is gone. "What do you say, Rueka?" His direct question is the last jar I need to return to be my own self again. But soon enough, my eyes land on our fellow traveler, Cyeran. His face is hard and now I know full well we have a mutual feeling. His gaze bores into mine, building up that wall that will keep me from knowing his true thoughts. Irritated, he puffs at a strand of hair in front of his face and turns away.
"Rueka?" I hear. It is Mar this time, her stare more toward Cyeran than me. I suddenly feel a pang of remorse at the way I've treated her. I'll make it up later. I have much to teach this girl.
Galaden has already started back to our shelter, my answered not exactly necessary. Cyeran hovers toward Mar.
I'll keep my distance for now, but I'm always watching.