The City of Rankoor – Part One

meadow

“Oh!” She exclaimed, raising a trembling hand to the broken, weeping skin on her left arm. The short knife fell from her grasp, bouncing off the ground a few times before coming to rest in the damp, overgrown grass.

He watched it fall and land, wishing he were lucky enough to be the knife, laying still and forgotten upon the fertile lands of Rankoor. But he couldn’t; had to instead take two shaky steps towards her and offer his comfort. He felt like one of the millions of meek devouts offering sacrifices to their Gods. Except he was sacrificing his own body and soul for a person he loved. He wrapped his arm around her petite shoulders but she didn’t seem to notice; continued to stare at the blood blossoming upon her tanned arm.

***

She had never been blooded in all her eight years. She had half expected – like a jester’s balloon – to deflate and wrinkle until she became a stooped elderly woman, yet there she still stood, completely whole but for the small loss of blood she would have to endure. She breathed in deeply, puffing out her chest and stiffening her arms.

***

He presumed she wished to look more powerful and well versed in shedding blood. Instead, she merely looked like a young child, eager to appear older than she was. Nonetheless, he squeezed her with his arm.

“I have seen no other of the fairer sex handle the sight of blood quite as well as you have.” A lie, but he had fed her far worse. Besides, he thought, how can it be wrong when she smiles so openly afterwards? Her face had lit up with glee, though she did her best to hide this too.

“Thank you.” A droplet of blood ran down her skin, looking like a warrior’s streak. But she did not wear this as proudly as a warrior would. Instead, she returned her gaze to the wound and arranged her features so that she appeared calm.

“Perhaps you are ready for the next phase.” This speech caused her to disengage from her previous activity. Her spine straightened as she replied.

“Of course.” Her voice was a half whisper, quieter than the breeze which rustled the grass surrounding them both.

Like this post? Read more here:

Part Two
Part Three
Part Four

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Author: Jasmine

Hi, my name's Jasmine, I'm 25 and I live in London. This blog is simply to note down my current thoughts - got any opinions on what I write about (or if you simply want to drop me a line), comment me :)!

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