Hope

The homeless man turned out to be useless to helping her achieve her goal. Any information she asked for was rewarded with further begging. Pitiful creatures. In frustration, Celestia returned to the depths of the forest.

Rolling her neck to release tension, a groan of discomfort rose through her chest. A seven-inch-long, thick, needle, made from the rib of a newborn, kept her soft, red hair in a loose bun. Closing her eyes, and pursing her lips, she rested the palms of her hands on her knees. Her body was sat on the damp ground, old and new leaves beneath her, with her legs crossed. The cream dress continued to collect dirt, further giving the appeal of helplessness.

Tempus currit de Her internal clock ticking faster it seemed, with every passing second. The voice inside her head, echoing with brutality. There was only a week and a half left to find a soul with the purest of intentions. One that belonged to God. Her leather bag sat next to her, slumped from the weight of the flap keeping it shut. Its contents continuing to seek out the ruin of souls. It wasn’t like Celestia to take this long. Normally, it was easy to find someone so willing, so trusting, eager to please. The last time it took this long, she had to take a child’s life.

“Ignis.” Pure, sweet sounds, rolled off her tongue in an enchanting manner. A small pile of twigs that had sat in front of her, patiently waiting to serve their purpose, buckled under the intense heat that sprouted. Crackling of wood gave her comfort. Humming to herself, she stared into the flames, begging them to take on its surroundings.

Give me a hard kick when it’s my turn to take watch. “Quiescat.” Her face dimmed with the loss of light from the fire. Celestia’s heart began to beat faster, excitement for the possibility of terror to reign overcoming her. A twisted smile contorted her face to the point where her white pearls bared down. Abruptly standing, snatching the bag, her bare feet hit the ground in a full fledge sprint. She sprinted away from the voice she heard through the trees, and back towards the road that was traveled by only the breeze at this hour. Dirt, and rocks, scratched at her soles. Her feet meeting bare ground, no more leaves, no more sticks and rocks, she halted. Looking down at the road, and back towards the sounds of voices, her breathing heavy.

Turning in that direction, she began to walk slowly. Every tendon in her body relaxing, moving along the path. She was approximately a ½ mile from the voices location. Straightening her back, pushing her shoulders back, and aligning her head with the rest of her body, she walked. Her eyes darting back and forth, her lips slightly opened providing a pleasant shape. The hem of her dress collected dirt from the path, and the closer she got, the rounder she made her posture. The dryness of her throat forced an attempt to gather saliva to drink. Pulling the needle from her hair, and placing in her bag, her hair fell over her shoulders and provided volume to her petite frame.

She sang to herself softly, in hopes to attract some attention to the road. Now walking up to the side of the road, that would be directly next to the camp she could nearly spot through the trees, she stopped. Her neck craned to look through the forest, eyeing the figures- what seemed to be horses- with hopeful eyes.