Landscape and the Fall of Icarus

A/N: Symbolical title yet again.

***

"I hold thy memory like glass.
Darling, let thee dream of you tonight.
Let thy ghost whisper sweet silence to thee.
For thy world is ignorant of people's sufferings."
----------

Until now she couldn’t fully understand it herself.

Failure happens to everyone. That was something common in this world. But no one ever prepared her for when she met it head on. She didn’t blame then. Didn’t blame them for the heart wrenching feeling that came with that helpless sinking sensation she felt within her.

But this... No one could ever move her to think that it wasn’t her fault.

The dark, ragged cloth around her form made her look like a wraith, a creature of the night that sat on the edge of the broken turret, watching... waiting for a time to strike down those seemingly unaware mortals rushing here and there like ants.

Oh, one could dream. But this wraith was nothing more but a woman in a young girl’s body, emotionally broken and unable to end her sufferings no matter what she did.

She felt lost. All around her everyone was caught up in the matters of repairing their homes, searching for family and friends, regaining their lives in this short-lived world. No one minded her. No one noticed her. But again, she didn’t blame them. It was better that way. Solitude was her only escape. Solitude was her only comfort.

Solitude was where the emotions hit the hardest.

As she placed a hand on her chest, soft footfalls signaled her to a presence. She turned her head, watching her uninvited guest reveal himself from the shadows of the collapsed doorway. Scarlet, apathetic eyes regarded her from under the fringe of messy green bangs, before their owner took a step forward. Then another, and another, until he was but talking distance from her. She never once parted her lips, nor had she taken her gaze off him.

Him. Prince of a dead, forgotten race. She hoped he would understand her sorrows, her despair. But that was wishful thinking. He was anything but sympathetic as far as she’d known him. And the young man never shared anything about himself, always avoiding anything that wasn’t related to the mission or the freedom of his world.

“Azrael did what he must.” The green haired youth spoke, ghosting a hand over his chest. She wanted to say, ‘Shut the hell up and go away.’ But she did not want to turn him away, did not want him to turn away because she was the one who caused it. It would only add more to the hurt even if he won’t feel the same. That was something she would never forgive of herself.

She offered him no reply, instead returning to her previous position. The scenery never changed. On any world, no matter how it looks on the outside, the scenery and the sky were always the same.

Where would she go? What would she do? This world was done with her. It did not need anything more from her now that its freedom was granted at the price of her own happiness. There was... absolutely nothing that she has to lose now.

In the end, she chose to sit by herself once again, pulling the shroud closer around her, faintly aware that the winds may take it from her. Soon, she heard her guest move away, his gait slow and calculated.

Unfeeling.

Her thoughts did not linger on the cold prince. She did not want to. She had to think of her plans for the future, set before her by the higher powers. There was no stopping. No breaks from the life she was living. The pain will never go away. She realized these a long time ago.

She let the tears flow, let her suck in a breath and scream at the top of lungs. In this moment in time, the glass walls of her soul fell in on itself. Azzy deserved these tears, deserved to have lived when she should have been in his place.

“I failed him...”

She was broken, in all sense of the word.

END ENTRY.

Waiting

Author's Notes: To you.

“The rain falls during the silence
of Monday’s dusk.
Perhaps the heavens are crying
in the place of my tears and feelings
that I cannot set free.”

----------

She was startled into reality by the feel of cold metal against her cheek. Instinctively, she slapped the offending item away, glaring at the man who had so much the gall to do that to her.

Azrael did not smile, did not show any sign that he was amused with what he did. Instead he tossed her the can of milk coffee, opening his own not a moment later. She caught the can with her hands, feeling the coldness seep pleasantly into her warmed palms.

“... Is he coming back, Haizek?” The long haired man asked her after taking a long sip. The young girl remained silent, eyeing him for just a moment before settling herself back into the settee she rested on whilst watching the rain fall outside. That was moments ago when it was still raining. Now the outside world was all but a realm of peace, softly blanketed in a light mist that stretched as far as her eyes could see.

“Is he coming back?” The man repeated his question.

He has his own life. He is his own man. The thought repeated in her head over and over, promising itself to turn into a chant. She brushed the thought away with a shake of her head, watching the world outside still.

“He can always come back.” She said, half defending the man she came to trust, to think of as a mutual companion during the long cold nights that Azrael had been gone from her life. But what is there to defend of the young fighter? Azrael did not dislike him. Nor can it be said that he likes him. It was... Azrael was not a man to feel defensive of.

The faux angel crossed his arms, looking out beyond the dark. “But if it’s not his will to come back, then why would he?”

“......”

“You know Luke to be like that.”

I’m not anything special to him. “I know.” She sounded offended, but for what reason, Azrael could only sigh. He opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated and slowly withdrew the topic for now.

For Haizek, she continued to find herself in her thoughts. She’d come to care for the male, much as they had disagreed many times in the past. Thousands of strings of thoughts ran through her head, all revolving around the mysterious fighter who had one day shown up and showed her what the world was like... and then helped her, though it was never his original intention to.

But in the end, it all fell into one thing.

Haizek didn’t know him. She didn’t know an ounce of Luke’s true self. It was all assumptions. All untested theories that she deluded herself into thinking that they were truths. They were lies, nothing but exaggerated, beautified lies she told herself and to anyone who asked. And yet...

She wanted to know him. She wanted to know more about him. Because when she was genuinely curious about someone, she—

“You let him go.” The faux angel looked at her, his face thinning into a contemplative expression.

She shrugged her shoulders. “He wanted to be let go.”

“You let him move away.”

“He wanted to move away.”

“You did not stop him.”

“I already told you it was his decision!” She snapped, fixing him with a steely glare. It did not stop the man however. He kept saying one thing,and Haizek countered with her own answer. Each round made them step closer to one another, closer and closer until there was barely a foot in between them. The verbal battle continued on and on until Azrael suddenly stopped, calmly averting his eyes from her. Haizek huffed, keeping her chin up at him defiantly as she kept her gaze steady on him.

Azrael never yielded without good reason, and so she firmly believed he would not walk away leaving this hanging.

“... You let him go.” Azrael repeated his first, though it was heavy with meaning, with an accusation he threw at her that she had never cared to accept until now.

Slowly, some of the fire in her eyes began to ebb away. “No one... no one is supposed to be left behind but me.” She spoke, her eyes flashing and steeling against what inner turmoil had chosen to assault her now. “Even if it’s that stubborn git.”

She did not know him. He did not want to be known. She wanted to reach out to him, and yet he constantly pulled away. And that one memory of seeing him turn his back, separating ways with but a simple farewell...

Something tore at her heart in that moment. But she did not yield to the tears.

Did not run up to him. Embrace him. Yell at him. Punch him—

... Insist that he stayed.

Luke never... Luke never tolerated weak people. Inwardly she smiled. Was that a lie? Or was that a truth? She could almost laugh at the thought. Haizek couldn’t tell the difference anymore.

But she will wait. Will always wait. No matter what Luke, or what anyone else says. Even when in the end, she would be the fool. She would take that chance. Even when her pleas fall on deaf ears, even when memories fail her someday, or when the years have chipped away the feelings that were so fresh and raw in this time and place...

This promise would be embedded in her. Never fully forget, never fully wash away those feelings she couldn’t deny forever. Even if she won’t understand the original purpose of ‘Why’ and ‘Who’, she will wait still.

Because really... people were such selfish creatures.

Azrael audibly sighed, reaching out to gently ruffle the head of the girl. “... Do as you wish then, Haizek.” And the angel left the room, making no noise and leaving no trace that he was there in the first place.

But know that we cannot stay behind ourselves. The world is ignorant of people's sufferings.

She turned her sights to the laptop sitting on the edge of her seat. For a long moment, she stared at it. Contemplation fleeted through her, and finally, she slowly returned to her seat. She reached out and took the portable device and placed it on her lap, allowing her fingers to hover over the keys for a fraction of a second.

And then the erratic sound of clicks and clacks broke the chain of silence.

...

end entry.