joy. -
record I: numinous sojourner.
In a world of mythical creatures and magical uprising, I exist.
The industrial uprising has come forth, and technology has advanced into the years of metal and gear.
In this advancing world, ancient clan leaders dwell, even among the modern inventions of the day.
Yes, five majestic clans watch over us with dignity and peace. They of no human root have become one with humankind and unity thrives between fae and man.
The Ekklesia and their stain-glassed cathedrals grow strong due to its positive influence on the clan leaders.
However, in this world where all is at peace, in this world where I exist...
A dark storm is on the horizon.
“Today is the day, isn’t it?” asked an old man. His cheerful wrinkles helped to form a smile that was as inviting as the warm fire in the hearth nearby.
“Yes, it is,” replied a red-haired girl. She spoke calmly, but the elderly man could tell by her shaking hands that she was very excited.
Today was the day of her first mission.
“I will miss you, my Dear Daisy,” said the elderly man as he shifted his glasses. The girl sighed shakily, a smile curling up her rosy cheeks.
“I’ll miss you too.”
The winter was always very cold in the country of Alileyo, but for today, the chill shared mixed with the warm sunrays that seeped through grey clouds.
The wind nymphs of the land sung into the brisk breeze, holding onto the firm trunks of leafless trees.
The young girl’s locks buffeted in the wind, and the fabrics of her favorite velvet dress flapped alongside it.
Not so far away from the place she, our heroine once called home, was a train station. It was a very random piece of construction, standing in the middle of untrimmed grass and winter flowers.
The train station’s building was a small and welcoming shack that had become covered in moss and foliage. A wrinkly old woman smoking an old pipe took our heroine’s ticket and kindly instructed her where to go next.
The train was a dusty crimson, much like the color of an old barn.
Inside, a currant-hued velvet warmed our heroine as she took her seat next to a window. As people gathered in, she put small wire earbuds in her ear. Attached to the headphones was a small mechanical machine made of cogs, gears and old metal.
The young girl gently took the machine and wound it up with a key she kept on a silver chain. In time, the train began to move our heroine, Evangelique De’Séjour, began to doze off to the sound of violins and a humble piano.
A little girl in a lacy white dress giggled while holding onto two hands she loved dearly.
She was content with her blessed life. She had a beautiful mother, a teacher with a gentle heart. She had a strong father who showed his love through the actions of protection.
Nothing could stop what joy the moment held for the little girl.
Until she blinked.
On a rainy summer day, the girl screamed and sobbed in agony. Warm blood oozed from where her legs once were and mixed with the surprisingly freezing rain.
She was stuck halfway under construction, her eyes staring in terror at the dark pools of lifelessness that were once her mother’s beautiful blue eyes.
Blood mixed like paint in water, swimming around the two of them as people shouted for the coming relief workers.
“Two prosthetic limbs,” said a grim doctor to the little girl. She stared monotonously at her new legs.
They made her little body seem as numb as her sinking heart.
That afternoon, in a grey midsummer, she watched her mother’s coffin descend into the dirt. The little girl wanted to scream and cry, but every time she thought of doing so, she looked at her grim-faced father who made no such acts of mourning.
Despite his almost lethargic expression, the girl knew that her father was the one suffering the most.
His big, sandpaper hands held onto nothing as if he was a marionette who lost its strings. His rough, unshaven face, was colorless and deprived of rest. The torments of ghosts danced in his coal-colored eyes and regretful thoughts weighed down his broad shoulders to make him slouch.
Oh, how that small child wanted to help her forlorn father.
Tears choked the little girl as she curled up in the dark corner of a cottage. Fire from a fallen candle licked up the ripped apart papers and butchered dolls.
The little girl’s father had disappeared one night without a word, and in a search for just one picture of her once happy family, her home turned into a burning disaster.
Unable to replace a photograph, she was left behind with only the memory of her father’s slouching shoulders in her head.
“I’m sorry, Papa...” she sobbed. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save Mama...”
Her once silent cries turned into desperate screams.
“I’m sorry, Papa! I’m sorry I lived!!”
The fire rose higher, licking up the fabric curtains. Glass shattered in the heat of it and the wooden banisters of it fell, yet the girl did not flee.
She only rocked back and forth, crying out to whatever air was left.
“I don’t want anything...no dolls, no dresses, no sweets...” she called out, as she looked to the flaming roof.
“I just want my family back!!”
Her desolate scream was the loudest the small, delicate girl had ever let out and it was the last thing she remembered of that night.
Evangelique woke up with a sudden jolt. The train had become slower. Rubbing her eyes, Eva turned off her musical device, looking at it with tenderness.
It was a gift from her adoptive father, Brenham Clark. He had found her when her home was on fire, and he took care of her as if she was his very own.
“To think of those memories again,” thought Eva, turning again to outside the train window.
She didn’t think about her childhood often, but for some reason, today she dreamt of it. Her eyes focused on what was beyond the glass window, in hopes that her head would clear of the past.
Her life of living alone had begun. Her biological father didn’t help her get there whatsoever, but...
She couldn’t help but wonder if he was still alive somewhere.
“We are nearing the Hanaryia Station in Mumei, Novah,” spoke the calm voice of an older man. As soon as Eva heard the man speak, she began to gather her things.
‘Fifteen hours of travel passes by when you sleep...’ thought Eva.
She looked out her window once again to see beautiful gothic buildings. They stood up tall, with boldness and pride in their intricate designs. In the sky, metal skyships flew, scraping the grey clouds that let quite a few golden rays through.
As a girl from a land that had little to no modern technology, she was fascinated by what lay before her.
The train soon came to its shrieking halt. Passengers flooded out quickly, and Eva’s boot-clad feet soon touched the concrete of Mumei.
The air was musty yet floral, to her surprise. A smile bloomed on Eva’s face as she walked away from the train. Flurries of snow that were illuminated by the beautiful light from the sky above welcomed her to Mumei in their delicate and pure way.
“Miss Evangelique De’ Sejour?” called a soft and welcoming voice.
Eva turned to see a man with blonde, slicked-back hair that went to the end of his neck. He was dressed in a black trenchcoat and slacks and wore a wide-brimmed hat on his head.
“Yes?” she replied shyly.
“My name is Augustine Adelfikos.” stated the man. “I’ve been instructed by Alethia Mission Organization to pick you up from the station so you can meet your team.”
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