“Fields of Lilac: Dusk”

2/10/01

By: Hikari

Site: http://www.geocities.com/hikari_nanase/

Notes: I’ve been going through a lot of things with my friends at school lately, and it really has influenced my mood. Thus, this fic offspringed from my mind. I hope you enjoy it- writing seems to be the only way to get my emotions out.

All disclaimers apply.

*****

Hoof beats galloped like drums, pounding against the muddy earth and splattering dense soil everywhere. The sky was tinted red and gray. Ominous and foreboding. The horses’ nostrils flared as it ran across the thicket. Clouds rolled against each other, causing thunder to roar and lighting to friction. Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum. Faster and faster it ran, looming over the chase like a giant.

It was happening again. The poor boy was being stalked down by the slaveholders. He ran barefoot, twigs and thorn embedding into his flesh and making it so difficult to move on. Coughing as he tried to clear the dried-up bush from his view, he ducked down when the horse backed and circled. The animal stood there- pompous, with eyes glaring in contrast to its dark coat. The horseman glanced around, and saw a shred of black cloth hanging on a stripped branch.

“He’s here!”

The child gasped and hastened to crawl backwards amongst the undergrowth. The sharp spikes of brush grazed across his face, back, and legs- drawing lines of bright blood all over his pale white skin. In consequence, he couldn’t help but whimper. Shocked by his own noise, he fastened his palms over his mouth.

The rider gave a very low laugh and threw his scythe. The heavy blade landed clear next to the boy, chucking at the wood and sending splinters flying. He rolled over on the ground and crawled as fast as he could further down the thicket. The blade was hooked onto the ground, only to be recoiled again and thrown a mere foot away from the child’s head. More splinters were flung through the air like darts. A few shot one-inch deep into the meat of his neck.

He moaned, but hastily pulled out the needles from his collar. Crimson droplets seeped through, blotching the surface as thickly as ink. Another throw, and the blade latched onto the boy’s thin leg. He screamed nightmarishly, feeling his skin being stripped off from his bone, along with flesh and vein. His little form whipped and quivered- hammering over and over so hard against the soil that dust particles went up in clouds.

The horseman pulled at the coil, which in turn, pulled at the hook. The child screamed harder. A very dreadful piercing scream. His cries were filled with incomprehensible anguish. Tears peeled from his eyes, and his fingers gripped onto the ground as he was literally being pulled from where he was, toward the one who hunted him.

Still, he gave all he could to protest. Weaving about, bucking on his back, lashing all around. Panting as he moved, the child paused just for air, then he continued in his tantrum. The reward was an even harder pull, and the scythe had already strained its way down his calf. Even worse, he could hear the very sound of his body tearing apart.

Tiring out, he lay limp and exhausted. The child’s chest heaved up and down so violently, that any one person would assume he was raised from drowning. His breathing went grated, and his efforts to scream faded into lost and almost soundless squeals.

Looking up, it seemed as though he had bled so much that even the skies were tainted. Thankfully, the clouds had covered over and began to let go clean drops of water.

“Unh… Unh…” Thin purple lips quivered as they tried to open and lap up the dew. When a trickle finally slipped into his dry throat- he closed his eyes and fell into a deep, dark sleep.

“Pick him up. Put him on the horse and lets’ bring him to the hold.”

“Yes.”

*****

The iron gate slammed in his face as it was drawn from end to end of the old walls of rock. Gray rock, it moist and smelling. Runoff rivered from the corners of the cell, and tiny waterfalls poured from the ceiling- frightening an enormous rat away. The boy eyed the creature scamper off to a hole in the wall and disappear into the shadows. He stood there, still weakened from what happened earlier. He blinked and thought of nothing in particular- no more than about how worn-out he was. He let go of a sigh he had been holding for hours. It didn’t help much. When he peered at his rags, the only thing he could do was sigh again and look sharply with indifference to his bedding made of straw and barely. A third sigh.

“That’s a very bad habit. You should drop it while you’re still young.”

He turned to his side, and his irises met a young girl, clothed in only a thin linen dress. It must have once been white, but now it was brown and patched with old crimson stains. She was lain on another bed of straw- her head bowed down to the floor, fiery hair blinding her eyes. Her legs where long and thin, but they appeared strong and healthy. Her arms were lean and clearly showed some muscle. As for her chest, they were vivacious and young, pulling at her garments to give off their shape. For a moment, she glanced up- revealing her wonderful blue orbs.

“Who are you?” The child asked.

Grunting, she shifted from her side to her back and stared at the ceiling. “That’s not important.” She said. “I don’t plan to be known in this place for long…”

Releasing the bars- he must have reached up them out of instinct- he walked to his designated area and sat down. Sitting in itself was an effort. It stung to sit on chaffy cushioning, and it hurt even more to use his throbbing aching muscles.

With interest, the other inspected her new roommate up and down. He was small, horribly thin, and scarred left and right. His face appeared washed over with cold, eyes deep-set, and lips cracked. Blood was caked on his larger wounds- forming scabs. His feet, they were bare and muddy. “What happened to you?”

Silence was the answer. Silence was always a good answer.

“I see- ”

“You talk too much.”

“What?” For this, she lift herself up partially- an eyebrow rising with her motion.

Finally assembling himself on the floor, he struggled to stretch… but winced.

“I said… You talk to much.”

“Huh’.” Pulling her arms behind her head, she smiled a little. Perhaps it was because it had been so long since she had company… Or Maybe… Maybe now she knew how to annoy the newcomer. At last, someone to talk to. However, judging by the little one’s attitude, it could be she would have better conversations with the rat… “So what’s your name?”

“Hn. Like you… I don’t plan to be known in this place for long either…”

Her grin tightened. “You learn quick… Too bad you’re a poser…”

The boy didn’t even flinch. He knew when to hold a diplomatic face when he needed to. Interesting. A trait like that was something highly uncommon with children his age. A normal kid would have retaliated foolishly and earned himself a good slap. It wasn’t so with this one…

“You can at least tell me your age.”

A reply was only granted after a long wait. It didn’t matter; in this place time wasn’t very important. “Six.”

“Ah… I thought you were four… Nice fact to know…”

Annoyance was building, and so he flipped to the wall. Slowly to prevent pain. “And your age?”

“Sixteen… I think… I suppose I’ve lost count.”

“Maybe you don’t know HOW to count…”

“You hold your tongue.” She snapped.

“Hn. Not until you hold yours…”

“You’re such a brat.”

“And you’re an idiot.”

They stopped there. It was hard to think of anything else to say, not that anything from either one of them was worth hearing in the first place. The girl yawned a little, then turned to her own wall, and waited for sweet sleep to befall her. The other, however, kept his eyes open and gazed blankly at the arm rested beside him. It looked as though it had been carved up- even his fingers appeared like a fishing line had severed them. He grunted at the idea his arm was rendered quite useless for the next few days. That was not even including the state of his left leg. He had to be patient in order for both extremities to be able to heal. All the same, he had no intention of staying in the hold any longer than he needed to.

“Tell me something Idiot…”

She grumbled with her response: “What Brat?”

“What time do the keepers let us out?”

“Dawn. Now close your damn eyes…”

Dawn. Five hours to recuperate, and then he had to plan from there. After a while, the quarters had darkened ten fold, and white light was peaking in from the single cell window- barred of course, in a criss-cross fashion and lined with barbed wire. The window was diminutive, but it was large enough for someone his age to escape through. Flipping to his stomach, he examined it. About a tad more than a foot wide, and a foot in length. If he sidled through it, he would fit with no problem. The real question was, how to remove all that guard from the pane… Glimpsing around, there didn’t seem to be anything useful in the room to use as a tool. Perhaps he would be able to steal something from the first and only meal. He thought it over. No, not likely. The sentinels kept count of the utensils and since he was new, it was very likely he would be caught. What then? Steal something from the job he was positioned?

“What do new ones like me do first?”

Now she was the one getting annoyed. “I know what you’re trying to do…”

The fiery-haired one paused for a dramatic affect. Yet, she could tell he had a sense of patience as she stopped herself from speaking onward. A pity to waste such a life in this place… Youthful, and he could obviously hold out on his own if he hadn’t so many welts. Fine. The girl would reply out of sympathy. “But I’ll tell you anyway since I’m so kind…”

This was the time to hold his tongue and wait for what he wanted.

“Trainees work in the dig-out mines first… But that’s only if you’re really small and weak… You don’t look that type… Small, sure… But not weak…”

Funny, he liked listening to that.

“For you… They would, almost certainly, place you in the slaughterhouse…”

“The one for beasts?”

“No, Brat, the one for old slaves…”

He blinked. “Old slaves?”

“Don’t repeat what I say… Yes, that one… You’re going to help execute the useless dogs from here…”

“I see-”

“Huh’ and you said that I talked too much…”

The boy didn’t hear that. He wasn’t all sure as to what he would find in an executionary either. Slaughterhouse… If that was what the prisoners called it… Then dying in the slave hold didn’t appear to be the best thing in the world. He fell upon his back again, and folded his arms. If he had been informed correctly about the rumors… In that case he would have twelve to fifteen hours of labor… The child could take it. He knew it too. So that left with him with around four to three hours of ‘self-time’. If he could only find a pick, or even better, a knife… The frame of the window was embedded into the wall… And surely, the guarding would be fastened beneath the frame. By slicing from under the frame, the barb would come loose. As for the bars… He could saw at it with whatever he could find… No… That would take too long. Melting the bars would save time… but unfortunately the temperature in the cell was too cold. There was no way he could summon enough power to melt the cylinders.

There was sound of rustling. His neighbor was already sleeping, and she had moved around on her straw. That was good… By not making a sound and working on the window, and with this girl being so lazy- he wouldn’t be caught. Keeping quiet was one of the boy’s fortes… Thank God for that…

*Better sleep now…* The child thought. *I can find something useful at my post and figure out what to do from there…*

It was his turn to yawn, and so he did. His eyelids batted rapidly, gradually sinking to blanket the boy in night. This felt good. To rest… Listen to water dripping… and the far away howls of the night…

The far away howls of the night… They were calling to him… Like whispers…

‘Follow the whispers…’