The Huntress of Silvermore

Life is but a mystery. A series of unanswerable questions, a journey to create an unquestionable answer.

Its all but a game of choices.

The little choices that we think don matter, that we believe wouldn affect us; they
e the ones that alter and determine our fate in the long run.

Fate, which we unquestionably accept as it is, something ordained by the Gods above us, is nothing but a road paved by the building blocks of these choices.

Over the years, Ive made thousands upon thousands of such seemingly trivial yet important choices, and theyve led me to where I am. Back then, I didn think of the consequences before making any of those choices. It was truly a blissful time.

But the bliss was short and transient. Before I even knew it, my frail shoulders, that once used to feel light with the wings of my dreams and passions, were loaded with a heavy responsibility that made it hard for me to breathe.

It was also a consequence of my choice, yet, even then, in all my youth and naivety, I kept on making those choices, the uncertain, hesitant ones, and as a result kept experiencing the impacts.

Although there definitely was a wave of realization that attempted to guide me through logic and reason, it never was as clear, as piercing as the one Im feeling right now.

Surrounded by lush greenery, I feel the calmness of the two picturesque streams crossing each other bordering the corners of my sight. I sit slouched, on a lone mountain peak with clouds caressing my face, the face that once used to be tender and naive, dripping with ample yearning for love.

Now, it is a tear-stained mess that appears to be on the verge of falling apart like crumbs of bread.

I kneel, embracing the cold body of a young girl that looks to be the pristine artwork God has given all his love and care to, taking His time to carve each of her features.

Just her alluring eyes are enough to draw the stares of both men and women into themselves, like an abyss that sucks all their attention. Innocence and virtue once used to radiate from them, enough for even the hardened criminals to feel a sense of shame and guilt upon making eye contact.

Her lustrous pink lips, adorable little nose, and perfectly symmetrical face had once made me feel inferior and imperfect for days.

This girl had once promised me a lot. Those words, which were seemingly uttered in pure naivety, led her onto a despairing road, one that she couldn escape from in the end.

It seems to be the magic of fate that even someone like me, a little human girl lost in the chaos of who-knows-how-many supernatural species, ended up becoming more familiar with her than those of her own.

As I embrace her tightly in my arms, crimson blood staining both of our light-pinkish skirts, Im reminded of everything weve been through together: the perilous journeys, the beautiful encounters, the enraptu