Post by Stargazer|| on Sept 8, 2006 7:46:06 GMT -5
The night had fallen. Silence here lay to rest. The whisper of the wind swirled throughout the open air. An eerie curtain of blackness hung over the huge body of water, only known as the Dark Lake of Aravaen. The lake seemed to glow with a strange, pale light, although that could have just been a trick of the mind. Invisible vapours rose from the polluted waters, black, bubbling, and nauseating. The moon was nowhere to be seen in the dark mass of sky. Neither were the stars showing their faces tonight. An aura hung over this place. An aura of fear. You could feel it spreading, spreading over the lake, over the still waters. Even the insects were quiet. Nothing was heard. Just silence. A figure sat by the lake, clothed in dark crimson. Glittering black crystal beads were braided into her hair, one gloved hand ran slightly over the surface of the lake, stroking the water. A few ripples ran through the lake as her finger made contact with the dark liquid.
In the murkiness of the lake the figure's face was shown. She wore a white mask with gaping holes for eyes, only showing darkness and blankness. The rest of the features were the same, all showing an eerie calm. The mask was expressionless, and the fearful black pits which were the mask's eyes seemed to follow you wherever you went. Like a ghost watching your every move. A sleek blade glimmered at the belt of the figure. Her other hand was poised calmly upon its hilt, as if ready to draw it at anytime and attack. She listened to the silence.
The trees seemed to whisper to her, stretching out their gnarled, dead branches, and the withered grass that surrounded the lake twisted painfully in the freezing wind. The crimson-clad figure stared into the still waters of the lake, looking at her reflection, yet bearing no emotion, for all was cloaked by her mask. She seemed like she was ressurected from death, a wispy, willowy form with a white face. She rose from her spot, and seemed to glide over to the trees, for her movements were graceful, like a dancing spirit. All these combined to create an essence of fear, that constantly drfited around this figure. She raised her hands to the blackness of the sky and whispered.
My Requiem. My soul.
Then her form seemed to shift, to change for a moment. A transparent figure arose slightly from this crimson-clad one. A spirit bearing the wings of an angel, except the pure white hue was now tinted black. A tattered white gown hung from the spirit's frame, stained with splatters of human blood, the crimson stains flowing down the seams of the gown, all the way to the hem, where they dried. The blood still looked fresh, somehow. The spirit's tangled black mass of hair fluttered over glowing red eyes, which stared out, glaring at the surroundings. The masked figure turned now to the spirit. She raised her hands, the spirit seemed to follow, bowing its head in submission.
My Requiem, return to me now.
The ghost's faint outline instantly faded, to nothing more but a wisp of white smoke, which seeped into the charm which the robed figure wore upon her chest, dangling from a chain. The beads of black crystal that lay within the glass charm clinked slightly as the smoke made a subtle whoosh as it passed through. The one who commanded the spirit bowed her head in reverence, looking at the surface of the black lake. Then she raised her head and looked at the equally black sky, with no silver stars that twinkled above. Then she began to sing, a strange song, with ghostly notes that seemed to resound around the lake.
Spirits wander...
The trees seemed to tremble at her voice, like the spirits within them were stirring, ready to wake. She enjoyed the nights at the lake, they made her calm, peaceful. Put her into a joyful state of mind, although most would run from it in fear...she continued her mournful tune.
Fear binds us all...[/size]
In the murkiness of the lake the figure's face was shown. She wore a white mask with gaping holes for eyes, only showing darkness and blankness. The rest of the features were the same, all showing an eerie calm. The mask was expressionless, and the fearful black pits which were the mask's eyes seemed to follow you wherever you went. Like a ghost watching your every move. A sleek blade glimmered at the belt of the figure. Her other hand was poised calmly upon its hilt, as if ready to draw it at anytime and attack. She listened to the silence.
The trees seemed to whisper to her, stretching out their gnarled, dead branches, and the withered grass that surrounded the lake twisted painfully in the freezing wind. The crimson-clad figure stared into the still waters of the lake, looking at her reflection, yet bearing no emotion, for all was cloaked by her mask. She seemed like she was ressurected from death, a wispy, willowy form with a white face. She rose from her spot, and seemed to glide over to the trees, for her movements were graceful, like a dancing spirit. All these combined to create an essence of fear, that constantly drfited around this figure. She raised her hands to the blackness of the sky and whispered.
My Requiem. My soul.
Then her form seemed to shift, to change for a moment. A transparent figure arose slightly from this crimson-clad one. A spirit bearing the wings of an angel, except the pure white hue was now tinted black. A tattered white gown hung from the spirit's frame, stained with splatters of human blood, the crimson stains flowing down the seams of the gown, all the way to the hem, where they dried. The blood still looked fresh, somehow. The spirit's tangled black mass of hair fluttered over glowing red eyes, which stared out, glaring at the surroundings. The masked figure turned now to the spirit. She raised her hands, the spirit seemed to follow, bowing its head in submission.
My Requiem, return to me now.
The ghost's faint outline instantly faded, to nothing more but a wisp of white smoke, which seeped into the charm which the robed figure wore upon her chest, dangling from a chain. The beads of black crystal that lay within the glass charm clinked slightly as the smoke made a subtle whoosh as it passed through. The one who commanded the spirit bowed her head in reverence, looking at the surface of the black lake. Then she raised her head and looked at the equally black sky, with no silver stars that twinkled above. Then she began to sing, a strange song, with ghostly notes that seemed to resound around the lake.
Spirits wander...
The trees seemed to tremble at her voice, like the spirits within them were stirring, ready to wake. She enjoyed the nights at the lake, they made her calm, peaceful. Put her into a joyful state of mind, although most would run from it in fear...she continued her mournful tune.
Fear binds us all...[/size]