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Sayerel and Ashiikyu: ((The past))
Note: 04/03/08: Typed out first draft raw, unedited
Outcast was not a word Sayerel could take lightly. Though he had always been the 'abomination', the 'spawn of the kind that eats soquili', he still had within him the pride as a kalona. Since so young, his mother had tried to shelter him from the hideous reality, but it really had a way to turn things around him.
It wasn't that they had ostracised him, but that he had ostracised them. Though he had been thrown from herd, it was bound to happen sooner or later; sometimes they were too quiet for him. It was like a festering noise in his brain in his eyes in his ears, mouth, hooveslegsbody.
Veins. Blood.
He was half-monster and he knew that no matter how much he had tried to hide it back then, it was part of his very nature, very appearance, something he could not suppress. Though Sayerel had behaved kind enough, sometimes his angry outbursts, and form of violence had been blamed on because of his rotten blood. And, who would have considered siding with the bad blood, who would have thought it was not his fault? It was easier to remove the problem entirely then confront and dissect it.
The landscape had long changed to desert, shallow trees and yellowed grass blurring into sand and long winding hills. It was a void landscape, filled with nothing. A harsh blue sky filled the world above, silhouettes of large birds dotted between, wheeling in circles, hungrily.
However, he plodded on, cloven hooves catching the grit and sand. It spread and accumulated like a disease until Sayerel felt like he was breathing and tasting sand.
Hours and hours passed in the same fashion, shadows of birds pressed above him, waiting for him to give up. Waiting for his time to be up. And, as he walked, he felt his consciousness slipping in and out between the grits of sand and wind and harsh sun. Sometimes he couldn't tell if he was the prey, treading in the wrong territory waiting to die, or the bird, staring hungrily in the sky waiting for the fresh corpse.
Slowly after that, it didn't seem to matter at all. His knees shook, his hooves sank too deeply into the sand, and in a flash he lay like some straw doll on the raw dirt. It briefly occured to Sayerel's mind this world that come a few hours, the remains of his corpse would probably be buried in the sand, forgotten with time.
And that was the state Ashiikyu found Sayerel at. It would be considered their first meeting together, and more significant perhaps, had the latter not been half-conscious.
Sayerel could not give the other more than a cursory, if not disinterested half-glance. He snorted, and his tail flickered, and his tongue felt too heavy.
However, Ashiikyu had always been a verteran of the desert. She had navigated the sands since she could walk, and knew the signs of a disparaged traveller. The sand winds had long buffeted her wings, making them appear torn, broken, though in all honestly, she never did have a use for them.
At least the fallen stallion noted she was there. He was still conscious, that was a good sign. She walked a bit closer, nudging his back with her muzzle, encouraging him to get up. He didn't budge.
"Honestly," she said, not bothering to move him again. "If you do not want to get up, then I will not help you."
Sayerel's ears flickered, a sign of annoyance as if to say, 'I'm trying'.
And Ashiikyu caught the meaning of the gesture. She snorted. "If you call that trying, then you've already given up. I will help travellers who need my help, but I will not help those who are already dead." She looked up, the birds were still circling, in larger groups now, above them. "And I'm not the only one who thinks so."
The first thought that crossed his mind was an indignant anger. He was in pain, he could barely talk or breathe, and she expected him to get up like some pert young foal? She could for all her worth just leave him to pass away. God knows he'd get some peace that way. Sayerel turned his head, looking the other direction deliberately away from her.
But, after a pause, when he realised he could still hear the other's presence, his mind started rethinking. If she was serious about him being useless or dead, why didn't she leave? Maybe she had meant it to goad him. Maybe she was helping. Maybe, just.....maybe.....he was being selfish. Did it really take that much effort to try his hardest just one more time, exert that one extra bit of pressure to go beyond. The wind swayed past him, the birds circled lazily overhead. And it seemed to say to Sayerel, if they could fly free, why couldn't he?
The mare smiled a bit to herself as she watched the other struggle to get up, back on all fours, heaving heavily, but struggling with every breath to survive. He shook himself, bits of sand flying everywhere, revealing an exotic orange-red hue underneath the grit. Somehow, Ashiikyu knew the other would not give up so easily. It was why she had goaded him in the first place.
Slowly at first, then picking up when she saw the other matching her stride, showing no signs of falter, she trotted. There was a small break in the desert nearby, and oasis, where the other could drink and clean.
It was the first time Sayerel took a good look at this mare. Her black mane and tail seemed at odds with her environment, but they were braided so thickly, a practical style for seasoned travellers. Though he had been tired, though he could swear he was still tired, at this point, he was determined to be more than just lodged deep in a self-depreciating rut. There was still a future ahead of him, he was sure of it now.
"Where.... are we going?" It took a while for him to force those words out, and he knew he sounded ungrateful.
Ashiikyu didn't seem to mind at all. "There's a resting point nearby. At this rate we'll be there soon."
That seemed to comfort Sayerel. He simply sped up his pace a bit.
The mare chortled. "Why are you in such a rush. Are you headed somewhere after this?"
"Yes, actually." It had been a blur at first, but it was now suddenly so clear. "I'm heading towards my future."
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