The moon was bright.
Its light illuminated a vast, grassy field. In its midst stood a church, its old, weathered walls too stubborn to fall to the elements. Posted on the side of the structure was a sign that read simply ‘Orphanage’.
******************
Beds lined the walls of the dimly lit room. Children of all ages were restless, eager to begin “storytime”. At the far end of the room, with a book in hand, sat a woman dressed in all black. Her garb was that of a religious “sister”. A veil obscured her face. Atop her head sprouted antler-like protrusions that strangely completed her mysterious atmosphere.
Creaaaak~
The door to the room slowly opened revealing a girl, no older than 10 years of age. Her blonde hair stopped at shoulder length and her eyes shone gold.
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“Hey! She’s back!”
“Yay!”
Everyone looked back, beckoning her to hurry and come in.
“Hurry! She’s reading the ‘Hero Book’ for us tonight!”
As she closed the door, her focus was drawn not to the woman sitting, but rather the storybook in her hands. It was like a single star in the night sky, a candle in the dark. As the story began….she stood still and listened.
Her gold eyes sparkled….
“It was cold and dark that winter night.
The stars gleamed with solitude amidst a sea of darkness.
They pierced with a bright unfeeling light.
But….
Her eyes were brighter….
….so much brighter.
They burned with the light of a thousand suns….
In their reflection, the worn pages of a book.
Still the shadows lingered.
They spoke of regret,
Of concern,
Of doubt,
Of truth.
As it grew stronger, a single voice glimmered.
Was it from someone or was it from deep within herself?
It whispered.
It spoke.
It roared.
It broke through that cold dead room.
That pitch black room.
But the world was darker than that…
It was so much darker.”
As these words echo, a young woman looks upon the ruins of what was once an old church.
Her long, blonde hair flowing in the wind.
Her gold eyes, devoid of any light.