The Brightest Days Form the Darkest Shadows- Chapter 1b. A Monotonous Existence

Not far from the spot where Maria had stood under the canopy of arching trees to shield herself from the steady rain, was a little abandoned farmhouse. It was a crusted old thing, with an overgrown garden and soot-blackened windows. Nobody bothered with the place anymore- it was almost worthless; ancient and crumbling, it stood silent, defending itself from the pouring rain. Only the mice and other forest-creature inhabitants appreciated the house for its shelter and solitude.
A particularly young mouse-buck, tired of being cooped up in the house and hungry for food, emerged from a small gap in the crumbling wall. He shivered at the freezing rain, skittered to the ground and paused under an upturned crate, before dashing towards the overgrown foliage that surrounded the abandoned cottage.
He didn’t get far.
Sudden, lightening fast foot-falls behind him caused the panya, kipanya to shoot off in an entirely new direction, blind panic clouding his senses. Like a blanket of night, a huge shadow dropped over him and he found himself scooped up in iron-hard hands and swept through the air, squeaking in distress.
“Gotcha!” cried a voice, high, harsh and triumphant. A single pinch of the little mouse’s throat followed kwa a high pitch call of laughter and the alabaster-skinned man dropped the limp corpse onto the muddy track.
“Daeht, will wewe quit messing around and do something useful!” A sekunde man suddenly stood behind the first. On first glance, the two appeared to be brothers; their skin was exactly the same bland white, their faces perfect, poised and defiantly beautiful. They even had the same eye colour, a colour that no human could possibly have: deep scarlet. However, subtle differences lined their features: slightly raised cheekbones au a zaidi prominent jaw. The sekunde was slightly taller than the first, his hair jet black as opposed to the lustrous brown silk of the first.
“Just a bit of fun-“ the one named Daeht protested, but the black-haired one shook his head.
“We know why we’re here, now help me search.” Daeht grumbled under his breath, but followed his kin-brother up the dirt track.
Eyran, for that was the sekunde man’s name, pushed on the wood of the low door set in the stone ukuta of the cottage. It was soggy and splintering with age; some of the edges had been nibbled away kwa the woodland inhabitants, and yet it would not budge. Eyran sighed, reached up and forcefully yanked the juu of the door. It splintered savagely, spraying the two men with numerous chunks of rotted wood.
Daeht casually flicked a splinter of his shoulder.
“You had to do that, didn’t you?”
Eyran merely responded with a low growl and entered the cottage. Daeht snickered and followed him.
Both men shot a quick glance at their surroundings in a nonchalant manner as if raiding abandoned cottages was something ordinary and uninteresting. The musty smell stung their nostrils, and the scuttling sounds of hundreds of creatures within the dank walls filled their powerful ears.
“I can smell her,” Daeht suddenly whispered. Eyran nodded.
“Yes, she was here. Let’s mgawanyiko, baidisha up and search.”
Both nodded once and vanished in different directions within the cottage, ransacking furniture and upsetting nests made kwa refuge-seeking animals, that quickly darted off into the further darkness to escape this sudden intrude into their home.
After an saa of furious hunting, Daeht and Eyran returned to the dim hallway. Daeht was seething.
“We were so close,” he spat and punched a wall. He pulled his fist back to reveal a small, cracking dent in the stone. Eyran laid a calming hand on his shoulder, which he shrugged off.
“At least we know she was here.” Daeht wasn’t having it.
“She could’ve hidden the damn thing anywhere,” he shrieked. “We could tafuta every single damn place on this god-forsaken island and still never find it.” He began to pace. “I don’t know whether she thought she was being clever- hiding it away where no-one could find it! I. Want. It. Now!”
With an almighty swing of his arm, Daeht slammed his fist into the ukuta for the sekunde time that afternoon. This time the ukuta shook with the blow and a dark crack formed up the stone, splitting and dividing like ice on a frozen pond. Eyran clapped a hand onto Daeht’s shoulder. Daeht ignored it, too stunned to speak.
“Well done, my brother,” alisema Eyran sarcastically. He gripped Daeht’s arm and yanked him out of the wrecked front door sekunde before the entire building collapsed with an enormous rumble and creak of timber.




bila mpangilio blah #1: Death
As I was uandishi this, I came to realise that the word 'death' can actually be an anagram of the word 'hated'. I don't know whether death is something to be hated and feared. To me, death is not so, death is the inayofuata step on each our own paths to our eternal homes. But don't think me superstitious, I don't follow nonsense about black Cats and four-leaf clovers. However, I feel that we all must accept our fates and do our utmost to excel in this life before we step to the next. ♥


IMPORTANT
If wewe would like to read the inayofuata 'chapter' in Brayarsha, then wewe will have to access it from my page -> activity. For some reason, 1c cannot be searched, and I have no idea why. Lina xx
wewe can also click this: