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Ritual to a Bloody Love(Atherium)

Salvira Ava

Death is the Beauty of Life
In the town of Vera, sweet aroma of floral delight filled the stone streets. Streetlamps lit the way for civilians who were on their way to their next location. Building of stone matched the streets giving it a monochrome feel, yet the over growing population of floral plants and herbs gave color to the grey streets of Vera. The skies above were hues of midnight violets and blues, stars twinkled in the distance without their Luna in sight. An occasional cloud passed barely visible, stars disappeared then reappeared like magic. In the middle class section of town, there is a tea house known as Floral Sips that hosts nightly gatherings. Interior light seeps through vine covered windows, as a wooden door is left wide open for guests to join. Inside is decorated with marble tile and white finished tables with matching chairs. Like something you would see in perhaps France, or somewhere similar.


A large crowd gathered around a woman who spoke about her childhood stories. This woman was highly recognized by many especially men who would dream of having a spouse just like her. Frolinda was this beautiful maiden that all gathered around to listen, a woman of a kind heart yet bitter words. Frolinda was well known in her hometown of Vera, due to the fact that she was one of the most beautiful maidens there were. She may not have been royalty but the way she was treated may have fooled some. A man's every dream to be with such a beautiful maiden such as Frolinda could easily be turned into a nightmare. Except the nightmare wouldn't be theirs but hers. Tonight she would sing and laugh as she told stories of her childhood, those that gathered to listen would join her in laughter echoing past the open doorway. The sweet aroma from the towns overgrown habitats mingled with the warm sap of teas and honeydew milk, giving an aroma that could be unforgettable and delightful.


"Thus my mother decided to grow her own garden, however with only sunflowers. Sunflower! Could you imagine how bright it was to walk into a yard full of sunflowers? It was like they produced their own sunlight!"


Laughter continued to echo throughout the Floral Sips tea house. Before Frolinda as she say upon a white chair, flowers laid before her feet from men who have admired her. Lilies, roses, tulips and many more decorated the ground before her feet. Emerald eyes scanned each any everyone that sat near her, eyes glistening in the light and skin smoothest of them all. Curls of nature fell past her shoulder embracing the smile that sat upon Frolinda's face.Being as beautiful as Frolinda was attracted the love of many, though she was pleased by none. Though never meaning to, she broke the hearts of many which led to problems. However, no matter how broken a heart may be, it always comes back.
 
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The magnificent night, the stars. They watched over Vera, and whispered sweetly amongst themselves, glimmering in adoration. All the entities of the sky beyond watched the mortal realm, and smiled. Shadows played inbetween the lamps that lit the streets, and through the shadows, different persons passed. Some going away from their homes, and some returning. Oh, the sweet buzzing of such a summer night. But through all the crowd, a distinct form rose and fell. Guarded by the darkness, with features veiled by a hood carefully pulled over the head, this mysterious wanderer was making his way straight towards a special place. It wasn't the first time he went there, nor would it be the last. It was actually, as he recalled, a daily routine. Be it early in the morning, or late in the night, he was careful to pay the Floral Sips tea house a visit. But, unlike other visitors, who gathered to sit and listen to Frolinda's amazing stories, this stranger remained quiet and did not show himself.


First, there were doorbell rings. He rang her doorbell, then swiftly hid, watching with hunger in his eyes the moment when the beautiful Frolinda opened the door and peeked, startled and curious as to why no one was there. As childish as he seemed, however, his desires towards this woman were beyond reckoning. If only she knew how, after just a few times, he used to snap secret pictures of her as she went each time to open the door. Eventually, Frolinda was startled by it all, and decided not to open anymore, thus giving him the chance to move forward with his sickly act of stalking her. Tonight, in the pocket of his hoodie, a note was hidden. A note, vaguely announcing the beautiful woman that eyes were upon her.


The shadows provided great cover for him as he strolled upon the street, going mostly unnoticed by the other pedestrians. His form shifted through them and eventually dissapeared from the crowd, exitting the street on the side on which the tea house was located. Ah, yes, there it was, just a dozen of feet away. So much light invading it. So much laughter. And the sweet, sweet voice of Frolinda as she continued telling her magnificent stories to the people who listened. Men were all but sinking into the floor before her, watching her with adoring eyes and trying their best to make themselves noticed. The stranger stopped in the shadows for a moment, looking through the open door and wishing nothing more than to tear all those pretenders of her limb from limb. Jealousy was invading him and his fists were clenched as he tried his best to contain the rage. If only he could show himself to her. But she would never love him.


With careful, gloved hands, the secret admirer placed the note within her mailbox, watching out so that nobody would accidentally see him doing so. A smile curved his lips as he thought of the moment when Frolinda would open that note and read it. He had to be there. But what if she did not read it tonight? He couldn't risk trying to get her out with so many people inside and an open door now, could he? Sadness struck him slightly as he realized there was no way that he would be able to see her reaction. He had to leave, before somebody noticed. Hastily, he took a last glance at Frolinda, his adored muse, before making off into the night, heading back from whence he came.
 

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