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Ilia's hands shook violently.
Her legs threatened to collapse from underneath herself.
She didn't know what to do. The light in her dear friend's eyes was leaving him very quickly, and it terrified her so. Was this true fear? She barely even noticed the warm, viscous liquid dripping off of her fingertips. Her friend's body was sprawled out on the cold ground; after a long moment of silence, she looked up wordlessly at the one who had caused such irreparable damage to Artemis.
Did Ilia even know this human? He did not look familiar to the young girl at all. He towered over her, and had to be at least seven feet tall. At the time, it was quite difficult to tell. Maybe he only seemed taller because the girl's fear was distorting her vision. He was breathing heavily with a crazed expression scratched painfully onto his face. Ilia could only see the whites of his eyes. As he took a lumbering step toward the girl, the words he whispered repeatedly were almost inaudible.
"You... n.... conscience.. nonexistan... left me.. die... You... no conscience..."
Something was not right.
As she unsheathed her worn but highly durable sword, Ilia took a step back and almost stumbled upon her own two feet. By the Gods, what a horrible time to be a klutz...
... No, it was not her feet that she had tripped upon. It was Artemis. A tiny gasp escaped her lips, for she had somehow failed to remember the fact that her friend now had a terribly deep wound from which protruded a short rusty knife. And he was dying. His life seeped out of his body so slowly, like a punctured ball, and no bit of healing method she had learned from mages in the past could ever repair such a wound. Her mind instantaneously blotted out every piece of unnecessary information and kept within itself only images and memories of Artemis, as well as thoughts of pure hatred for the man before her. She seriously wanted to murder the man. For the first time in so many years, she was beginning to see faint red spots appear and cloud up her vision.
This was so utterly wrong. This should never have happened to her. She was always good in these kinds of situations. She had regrettably killed plenty of people before, so why was she faltering right now? It was no problem for her in the past. It was simply something that had to be done, and there was no getting out of that. But this time...
Something was not right at all.
~ - ~ - ~ - ~
- by Colonel Asha |
- Fiction
- | Submitted on 12/07/2011 |
- Skip
![](https://graphics.gaiaonline.com/images/arena-images/ic_paper_corner_32x32.gif)
- Title: A Taste of Fear.
- Artist: Colonel Asha
-
Description:
'Tis very short, I know, but anyway...
This is what happens when I can't think of anything else to write.
My mind drifts off to other things. Like my Dragon Age's Rogue City Elf. : (
CURSE YOU, DRAGON AGE.
Oh, and don't mind the name "Artemis." From what I am aware of so far, there is no "Artemis" in Dragon Age. I just like the name. xD - Date: 12/07/2011
- Tags: taste fear dragonage
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