The moon appears from behind thick sheets of clouds, casting my thoughts in a new light of confusion and mistrust. What was more dangerous than doubting in one self’s thoughts? I make my way out of the temple and down the cobbled-stone pathway leading toward the secluded haven of the meditating fountain. Before disappearing behind trellises of nature, I give the imposing temple one last fleeting look. The tall columns that seem erected from the ground reach high into the sky, attempting to touch its creator: the moon, but falling short and into a game of light with the moonlight.
I disappear behind nature’s green mantle, its freshness caressing my sore skin delightfully. The Master had been harsh on me tonight but it didn’t matter anymore. It is not him that I have to endure now; it is Eliza’s glory that I have to fear. The scenery of green foliage entices me to stay blended with them, but I refuse. I need time to think, time to plan, and only one word comes to mind: revenge.
The rustling of grass comes to a halt when my bare feet makes contact with fine-grain sand. My toes dig deep into the pale, cold sand, searching for warm comfort in this restless night. This particular space appears suspended in time in a magnificent never-ending cycle of nature’s utmost perfection. The stream that feeds the fountain will never dry up and the trees and plants in this sanctuary never ages nor changes colour.
I walk slowly and respectfully to the base of the fountain, stooping down to look at the reflection in the slightly rippling clear water. The eyes that look back at me are lifeless and cynical. I touch the water with my forehead, a sense of cold running through my skin, pricking it faintly. I finally arrive to a conclusion with the most logical solution. I stand up and half prance to a low bush to the left, my knees sink deep into the sand and my fingers begin scooping sand away from the roots of the bush.
A veiled secret lies beneath the sacrosanct sands, a secret so dark that can stop the sun from materializing again. My fingers feel numb due to the cold, but it’s a worthy sacrifice for when they close around a carved and jeweled hilt, the future shines brightly. The untouched blade of the dagger reflects the wicked smile that forms in my face. Nobody can posses that much power within them and I am going to make sure that remains unchanged.