???A man in a cloak ran through the woods, trying not to have his cloak caught on a branch. His hood fell, his blond hair blowing behind him as he ran, his tan-ish skin looking pale in the moonlight, his blue eye and silver eye filled with panic. He turns his head towards those chasing him for a split second then he picks up his pace. He breaks through the forest, into a free area, only to end up in front of a cliff edge. He stops at the tip of it and looks at the edge. A fall straight to your watery grave. He turns back to the mob, then looks around quickly, panting a bit.
“Stop... Don't make me jump.” he pleads, not sure himself if he would do it.
The girl in front, the one with the empty eyes, raises her hand, slowly, pointing at him, telling the mob silently to execute him. The man with two differently colored eyes takes a step back then jumps off, backwards, to his death.
“Ame...” He looks at her piteously, falling as if in slow motion.
She knew she hated that look, but she doesn't know what it's supposed to feel like. All she has is her brain, full of useless knowledge, everything else is unknown to her. She has seen couples on the streets and wished she could feel the same thing, but not. She has seen families and knew she didn't understand how she felt like that before, felt anything before. She can feel, but her emotions are gone. She is nothing but an empty shell. Even a harlot selling her body has more emotions than her. Just as emotions well up, they stop. And she's once again an empty shell. Again. And again. And again. Forever.???
'Ah, quite the memory. At least I'm one of very few who can say they remember their death.' The man with one silver eye and one blue eye smiles a bit at the memory.
A warm, sunny afternoon, he's sitting under a tree in the shade with his wolf friend next to him, the wolfs head in his lap. He strokes the top of the wolfs head, only friends for the time being. Two days after seeing Ame, she didn't remember him at all, which wasn't shocking, but what was shocking what that how she seemed to know that the purple door was important, but also didn't seem to realize it just yet. Ame knew, but this new girl, this...
“Cayla...” He tires the name he heard Moon call her, the wolfs ear twitches slightly, “Odd name to call someone, let alone HER.” the wolf gives a slight grunt of sorts and continues to nap.
“Here you are!” A little, bell like voice chimes, the man turns in the direction of the voice, grinning.
“Here I am, Cerulean, need something?” He looks at the small fairy, a blue glow, long silver hair, little ocean eyes, and a little blue outfit.
“Yes! You need to find the others! Now!” She crosses her tiny arms impatiently.
“But I have found them, Cerulean.” He turns back and closes his eyes, relaxing.
“You... have? Then why aren't they with you!?” She shouts, though it sounds more like a squeak.
“Because they are not their usual selves, we must proceed with caution.”
“I don't care! I want to see Gem!”
“Besides, we both know I'm not Ethra, I'm just help. I'm not important.”
“That doesn't matter, you know that. You're helping because you want to! It's your choice. Now, where is GEM? I want to see her!!” Her voice rings out, the wolf growls a bit and she sticks her tongue out at it.
“And see her you will, I promise, but we have to be careful.”
“... I hate being careful.” The little blue fairy says, pouting, “It makes everything seem so slow.”
“Amanda.” Catherine starts, warning her with a look.
“Oh, come on! It's a once in a life time chance! You have to come with!” She pleas
“I don't 'have' to do anything.” Catherine glares at her friend.
Recently, as of this days morning, about a week after the whole ball charade, the main gossip has been the princes ball, being held at the castle in two days time. Everyone in the kingdom has been invited. Catherine has been with Amanda since noon, out in the market, looking for material that would look great on Catherine, though she protests this greatly, and loudly. Currently in the fabric shop, Amanda picks up and puts down variously colored fabrics, of completely different colors or just of shade, though some look exactly the same to Catherine, even with her well trained eyes.
“I'm thinking... a blue, maybe. A light blue that isn't sky blue... Much darker...” She picks up a fabric, and looks at the name, “Blueberry.” She holds it to Catherine and considers it. She gives it to Catherine to hold and she looks from a complimenting color.
“It looks more purple than blue.” Catherine states, looking at it.
“That's what the color of blueberries is.” Amanda picks up an ivory color then sets it down.
“Why are they even called blueberries? I mean, really, do they look blue to you?” Catherine decides to say, even though she already knows the answer.
“Who knows, who cares.” Amanda picks up a pure white color then sets it back down.
Amanda continues to pick up colors, gray, black, yellow, definite no to the yellow, but then she goes around to the other side, Catherine forced to follow, then she stops and stares at the man in front of her, blond hair, tan skin, looking at a royal blue color. She doesn't stop just because he looks handsome, but because of his eyes. One silver, the other blue.
“Catherine...” She backs up and moves around to hide behind her. The man looks up at them then smiles.
“Moon.” He starts, talking towards them, “Gem.” He bows once he is directly in front of them.
“Who are you guys? Why do you keep calling us by names that aren't ours?” Catherine asks, backing up a step, blueberry fabric in arms.
“My name, I cannot really say, for I don't know for sure what it is. But I do know that your names are Moon and Gem. This is a fact. And I have a gift for you Gem.” He opens his hands, which they both now notice were closed and a little blue ball of light, with wings like a dragonfly, darts to Catherine.
“Geeeem!-” It screams in a tiny, joyful voice. Out of reflex Catherine gets a better grip on the fabric and hits the light back to the man. It screams in pain and ends up back into the hands it darted out from. “Oooww...” It mumbles.
“What. The hell. Is THAT?” Catherine asks, annoyed/scared.
“Cerulean? Are you okay-” He starts, gently.
“OF COURSE I AM NOT OKAY! I WAS HITS WITH A HUGE ROLL OF FABRIC THAT LOOKS LIKE IT HAD A BUNCH OF BLUEBERRIES SQUASHED ON IT! AND BY A PERSON WHO CANNOT BE GEM!” The little light rants, loudly.
“The fabric is called 'Blueberry'.” Amanda says, meekly.
“I DON'T CARE!” The blue light flies over to Amanda's face, she gasps when she fully sees what the light is.
“You're a faery!” She, Amanda, says, pointing.
“DUH!” The faery throws her hands up in the air, obviously fed up with these girls.
“A very rude one too.” Amanda says, frowning.
“Gem- Catherine. You should remember Cerulean.” The man offers, sounding so sure of himself. Catherine looks at the fairy girl, trying to remember, but not really bothering.
“Hmm..... Nope.” She shrugs, Cerulean stares at her for a moment then turns around and starts fake sobbing, loudly.
“'Slow and steady win the race.'” He quotes the old proverb. He holds out his hand to the faery, who sadly floats into his hand. He turns around to the door then stops and turns back around and looks at them “Where is Ame--- Er, Cayla?”
“She wasn't feeling well this morning and has been home since. Resting and getting ready for the Princes Ball.” Catherine makes a face as she says 'The Princes Ball', for she doesn't want to go, she'd rather be at home, sleeping, like usual.
“The Princes Ball..... Does she... like... the prince?” He inquires.
“Does she like you?” Catherine snaps, sick of the game.
“She did... didn't... and now... It's hard to tell.” He gives up, shrugging, and turning back to the door.
“Do you like her?” Amanda pipes up, wanting to know. He answers in gibberish.
“Nah-quill ma.” He replies and walks through the store door and out into the busy streets. A brokenhearted faery in his hands.
“... What did he say?” Amanda asks.
“Nah-quill ma-” Catherine starts to answer.
“In NON-GIBBERISH. In ENGLISH. What did he say?” Amanda corrects herself.
“Oh... Then I don't know.” Catherine shrugs.
“YOU don't know or he doesn't know?”
“... He probably doesn't know either.” Amanda sighs.
“Probably.” They are silent for a moment.
“Alright. Perfect things to accompany 'Blueberry' colored fabric.” Amanda says, happily, clapping her hands together.
Catherine groans and feels sorely tempted to hit Amanda with the fabric color she chose, but does not. Instead she imagines many different ways to kill her, all of them including the fabric. But none of them bring as much joy to her as the moment when they finally exit the store, with out the fabric, but then her mood takes a 180 and she is completely annoyed again when they enter yet another fabric shop, still looking for that perfect color for Catherine. She was not a happy lady that day.