myOtaku.com: TearlessGreyEyes

myO Still <3's You

Vitals

Birthday
• 1992-06-13
Gender
• Female
Location
• I am where I am. Where that is, is none of your concern. Thank you.
Member Since
• 2006-08-29
Occupation
• Philosopher of sorts.
Real Name
• Raine Sage if u may so kindly call me.

Personal

Achievements
• Achievements acknowledged by others countless, yet meaningless. Achievements my most cherished and I acknowledge are few, yet meaningful.
Anime Fan Since
• Who knows when I began.
Favorite Anime
• Loveless, Inuyasha, DNAngel, FLCL, Tsubasa, xxxHolic, Kamichama Karin, Chrono Crusade, Fullmetal Alchemist, Cardcaptor Sakura, etc.
Goals
• To become a doctor and to live my life fully, get married, have at least one child, and die in a honourable way rather than death by cowardice. Probably while protecting someone.
Hobbies
• play guitar, paint, draw, write, listen
Talents
• painting, drawing, writing stories, poetry, play guitar, and to listen

myOtaku.com: TearlessGreyEyes

Wednesday, August 30, 2006

Fallen Angel

Hey everyone. I like to write short stories, but there is the really long one I have been working on for two years. I want to post a part of it and if you're interested in the rest email me and put "I read ur story on otaku, wanna read the rest" as the subject and I'll email it back to you. I'd like any comments on it. Thanx.

Chapter 1: The Beginning

“Hey! Amaya!”
“Hey! Dagan! Up here!” yelled a young girl of about seventeen. She wore a red tank top with a pair of shorts. She had waist length, black hair tied back in a ponytail, and beneath her long bangs were two silver eyes, that caught the sun’s light. She was standing on a mound of rocks and stones that reached above twenty feet.
“What are you doing?” a boy, only two years older than the girl, balked at the foot of the mound and stared upward with royal blue eyes. He had unkempt dark brown hair, and he wore a black t-shirt and jeans.
“I got bored waiting for you to show up.”
“Be careful. Something could slip out of place,” said a concerned Dagan.
“Yeah right. This thing is as stubborn as my old man,” Amaya said as she kicked a pebble out of place. She suddenly lost her footing and slipped.
She began to slide down the mound and into the river at the foot of the mound next to where Dagan was standing. She hit the water and submersed entirely.
After a few seconds underwater, she resurfaced and nearly choked on the air.
“I hate to tell ya ‘I told ya so’ but I told ya so,” said Dagan, crouching down next to the river.
“I don’t really give a care of what you said.”
“Now what have we here. What are you two doing out here in forbidden territory?”
“Oh, hi, sir,” the two said sheepishly.

“You two know better than to travel in forbidden territory,” lectured Elder Wyke.
“Oh, Dad, lighten up. There really isn’t anything over there,” replied Amaya.
Dagan leaned over and whispered in Amaya’s ear, “Wrong answer.”
“Is there something you want to share with us, Dagan?” said the Elder.
“No,” he said tensely.
“You two will get a warning, but next time there will be consequences. I mean it.”
Amaya and Dagan ventured out of the village shrine and left Lorinia. It was a quaint, little town in the westernmost part of Kranya. They headed for the river that was not in forbidden territory.
“Amaya, you’re too carefree. One day that will be the death of you,” said Dagan.
“Whatever.”
BOOM!!
“What was that?” she asked.
“An explosion!”
They ran back to town to find it all in ruins. Some were severely wounded, but most had met their demise from the deadly explosion.
“Oh no. Dad!” said Amaya, concern plain in her voice.
She looked frantically for her father underneath the rubble and ruin of the shrine.
“Amaya,” said Dagan softly, “I . . . found him.”
Amaya walked slowly to the spot he pointed to. The sight that was set before her was too much for her to bear. Her father was still alive, but life was seeping away every second. She knelt before him.
“Amaya, you are now the protector of this town,” said the elder wincing in pain.
“Dad, don’t talk like that. You’ll be fine. Please, you don’t have to leave.”
“My child, fate has chosen now to be my end, and you to be the beginning. I leave my one possession to you,” the elder handed her a pendent, “Amaya, this was your mother’s. You will know when you are ready to accept the ancient power,” he smiled, “Do not cry.”
Rain began to pour as the man fell limp. It was as if the sky wept for the many who had died.
“I won’t, I promise,” she muttered.
She sat there silently, in the pouring rain.
A funeral was held the next day for the many people who died. She stayed at home until everyone left the graveyard. She walked slowly to the grave of her father and knelt before it.

Amaya secluded herself from others after the burial of her father and the others who passed away. As much as she wanted to, she promised to never shed a tear. The townspeople thought it cruel and heartless, but she was merely keeping a promise to her father.
Tired of sitting inside for days, Amaya ventured out of her house. She squinted when the sun hit her face as she sawDagan walking toward her.
“Dagan?”
“Amaya. Are you all right? You’ve been locked up in your room for so long,” Dagan replied.
Her eyes went soft when she saw his concern for her.
“Come on. The elder’s assistant told me to get you.”
“Why?”
“You’ll see,” he said as he grabbed her arm.
Dagan led Amaya to the elder’s assistant’s house. He opened the door and ushered her in.
“Amaya, you are now the one to fulfill the role of protecting the village. You must use the powers you have inherited to do so. This is what your father wished for. Are you ready?” said the elder’s assistant. She was an elderly woman. She looked to be frail, but had an old fighting spirit about her. Her long gray hair was tucked away in a bun, and she wore a long white cloak that hung from her shoulders to the floor.
“Yeah. I guess.”
“Dagan, please.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said as he left the room.

Within the home, there was a bed covered with red sheets. There were many candles, forming a circle around the bed.
“Amaya, lie down on the bed,” instructed the old woman.
Amaya obeyed the assistant’s instruction. The woman lit the candles and began the ceremony. The woman grabbed a bowl off of a nearby table. The bowl was filled with sweetest scent she had ever smelled. The smell was enchanting and eventually worked its way to Amaya’s mind. Soon enough, the scent had lulled her to sleep.
Amaya began dreaming. In the dream, she was able to feel the objects around her. She seemed to be on the ground, staring at the stars beyond the glass ceiling. She tried to sit up, but a shocking pain surged through her body. She cried out from the pain. She turned her head slightly to see a figure. It was a boy. He didn’t seem to be able to get to her. She thought it may have been a glass wall. He looked like he was yelling something, too. His eyes were concerned and were on the brink of shedding tears. His face seemed so familiar, yet the way he looked at her seemed so foreign. She knew exactly who it was, but his eyes were not something she knew. Her vision was beginning to blur and the last thing she saw was the boy’s eyes, finally shedding tears, and the last thing she heard was her name being called.
She awoke from the dream mumbling to herself, “Wha . . . Why was he crying? Why?

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