... -- The Middle of Nowhere

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Date Posted: 22:28:37 01/14/03 Tue
Author: ...
Subject: ...

A cold form huddled inside a billowing black cloak as a winter wind swept up from behind. Burning eyes blazed out as the well-built, handsome man gazed into the night, rain driving in a constant battery at his back. His black hair was chin-length and cut in an eastern manner, shiny and straight, accenting his strong but refined features and dark teal eyes. It was cold that night, the rain nearly pinpoints of sharp ice, the wind harsh and biting, and the darkness was complete. But the man could see the distant city from where he stood upon a hill, with lower plains to his left and a gloomy, sodden forest to his right. He could see it all, and he gazed upon the city with inexplicable sadness. It was there she lived.

At the core I've forgotten
In the middle of my thoughts
Taken far from my safety
The picture is there
The memory won't escape me
But why should I care

It wasn't for a lover he grieved, nor for a sister, aunt, or mother. It was a surrogate daughter, one of his blood and his tendencies, born to humans and thus utterly separated from him. He remembered her as a baby, so small and frail. He had held her himself, when he had entered the darkened house while her parents slept. She had been so tiny, so fragile, but at the same time, full of promise and life. His dark, smooth fingers had caressed her soft cheeks, touched her black hair... which had changed since, adopting a more earthy hue.

It was for her, his daughter, that the tears slipped down his cheeks and mingled with the cold, icy rain. Concealed entirely in black, even his eyes couldn't be seen within the depths of his hood; and so he wept freely, cursing fate that had placed his brethen in human form. That stole her from him. She was his!

There's a place so dark you can't see the end
Skies cock back and shock that which can't defend
The rain then sends dripping an acidic question
Forcefully, the power of suggestion

Angry now, the man dashed tears from his face with a swift movement, then tucked his smooth-skinned hand back inside his cloak. It was fate that had given her to humans, a soul that had so long been housed in Koratian form. And it was fate that he twisted to adopt his own current human form, a far cry from the illustrious black he truly was. Teal eyes closed briefly, then squeezed shut, tears seeping between the lids and warming his cheeks once more.

Then with the eyes tightly shut
Looking through the rust and rot and dust
A spot of light floods the floor
And pours over the rusted world of pretend
The eyes ease open and it's dark again

Fingers clutching at the edges of his cloak as a gust of wind shook his tall, proud form, the man wrapped the expansive fabric around himself and looked down upon the city. Such a disgusting place. He knew of her struggles, oh he knew. He knew how hard it was for her to pull her roots away from the harsh reality of human life and look to the spiritual - something she'd always done, even as a Korat. It was easier for him to talk to her, though until recently she'd never realized how close he was to her. But then, he didn't let her know many things. Just enough to let her remember her other home, her other life.

The man sighed through pursed lips, watching as the steam was battered by raindrops. Another gust of wind hit, rippling his cloak like a pair of wings. A section of the city went dark, then flickered back on. Torn between reality and desire, he reached out one hand, palm upwards in supplication. "Return her to me..." But then he shook himself, and gathered his cloak closer to his toned frame. It was impossible. She was a human now... and perhaps her soul would continue to be bound in human form, life after life.

In the memory you'll find me
Eyes burning up
The darkness holding me tightly
Until the sun rises up

A spark of light touched the cold form, and the man looked upwards. The moon had sent a shaft of light through the clouds to soothe his pain. She, at least, knew his pain. She always did, and She knew Her daughter's pain equally well. It was odd, the Korat thought, that an individual from a religion-less species could adopt the concept of religion... but it was fast becoming his daughter's life, and if only to be closer to her, he had taken it as his own as well. Odd, but strangely comforting at times. But the moonlight vanished and rain continued to pour from the night sky, obscuring the city lights at times. With no aim other than to be physically nearer, the man started down the gravel road towards the city.

Moving all around
Screaming of the ups and downs
Pollution manifested in perpetual sound
The wheels go round and the sunset creeps past the
Street lamps, chain-link and concrete

It was cold, and dark, and utterly lifeless in the streets. Buildings loomed high, though smaller by far than Lavana's trees. The man looked about him, scorning what he saw, and at the same time hating it so passionately for stealing her from him.

A little piece of paper with a picture drawn
Floats on down the street till the wind is gone
The memory now is like the picture was then
When the paper's crumpled up it can't be perfect again

Hooded eyes stared at the filthy, littered streets, overflowing trash bins and clogged drains. A soft sound behind him startled him, but slow and dreary as his thoughts were, he turned to look. And he nearly cried out, but stifled the sound.

A young woman, still a cub but growing up quickly, walked towards him steadily. She had no coat, nor shoes, and it was plain she had rushed out the moment she saw him; all she wore was a baggy T-shirt and jeans, nothing to fend off the winter rain's chill. She bit her lip, looking him in the eye with teal eyes so like his, and reached out a trembling hand.

Now you got me caught in the act
You bring the thought back
I'm telling you that
I see it right through you

The man was stunned at the sight of his daughter, and in two steps had taken her hand and pulled her to him, enveloping her in his cloak. Unafraid, though she knew his power, the girl clung to him, burying her face in his shoulder and weeping silently. The man pressed her to him, stroking her curly hair and staring in mixed horror and shock over her head. She was not supposed to find him, ever. She was not supposed to know of him, that... But all thoughts were washed away as his daughter looked up to him, her radiant spirit shining despite the darkness and cold.

"...Atumi?"

Fresh tears started in the man's own eyes, and he hugged her fiercely, shielding her from the pelting rain with his own body and his cloak. But it only was for a moment that the Korat was stunned, and then he gripped her shoulders and held her at arm's-length. He took a good look, and was glad that, at least, she held power as a human in her body, not just her mind and heart. She bit her lip again, fighting the tears, and fighting what she knew would come. He was going to leave. The man gazed for a long moment at his daughter, then pulled her to him to kiss her forehead. Silently, without words, the young woman nodded, and let her hands fall to her sides.

The man turned and walked out of the city, back to his hill. And when the moonlight lit the hilltop this time... it was bare.

She looked after him, watching until she could no longer see his shadowy form. Then, shivering and soaked to the bone, she returned to her home... tears saturating her eyes once more as she shut the door and was returned to a normal existance.

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