Anastasia trudged along the concrete path, the sound of her shoes tapping against the ground echoing through the busy streets. Her eyes, which usually seemed lifeless and dull were now swollen and puffy from crying. She couldn't shake off the pain that Felicia had caused. As she walked, she felt a sense of relief slowly wash over her, knowing that she was leaving behind the tall building and all its formalities.
Although the spears that had burst through her meek body were long gone, she could still feel their presence. Even though her wounds had healed, she could still feel them opening up. She had never experienced anything like Felicia's attack before, let alone an attack from an immortal itself. In all the days she had spent working with papers and books, going through something so violent and painful was never something she envisioned to happen.
Her ears, long and pointed, stood tall as she gazed at the bustling street in front of her. The city was filled with immortals of all shapes and sizes, mingling like regular citizens. Some had wings, large and majestic, while others had horns sprouting from their heads. Some had tails that flicked back and forth, while others had sharp claws peeking out from under their sleeves and fingers. Some also appeared to be human with no fancy body parts, only to tell if they were immortal by their glowing eyes. Despite their differences, they all seemed to be enjoying themselves, laughing and chatting as they strolled through the parks and shops.
Lies behind the discrimination, some people couldn't rebel.
The fox wondered what were they like before they were bestowed, drifting to the point of their origins. How does nature provide such abilities and powers? How does nature know how to choose one?
Hugging herself, Anastasia strutted through the spotless streets of Eternal Afiat, cradling her tail with care to avoid any dust. As she gazed at the immortal city's grandeur, she couldn't help but wonder if it was truly her home or just a temporary haven for the immortals' never-ending duties.
She wondered if the city was going to be filled with more immortals. How many immortals does this world need? How many immortals does it need to balance out the world?
"The scale is not weighed correctly..." The voice spoke.
"Huh?" Yelped the fox.
"It looks like there are more immortals than the corrupts, wouldn't that be against the term of symmetry?"
The voice spoke in Anastasia's head, but she dismissed it as quickly as she could.
No, she was better than this. She will never succumb to the dark like Felicia, she can not.
"Come on, Ana. You're smarter than this."
"No... go away." She pleaded. She couldn't shake off the feeling that everything around her was on the verge of collapsing. The towering buildings seemed to loom over her, threatening to crumble and topple onto the pavement, while the hovering vehicles overhead appeared ready to malfunction and plummet down like deadly missiles.
The chaos around her only added to her unease. She felt as though the people were in a constant state of conflict, with sparks of magic and elemental energy crackling in every direction. It was as if everyone was armed and ready to unleash their powers at any moment, with the intention to harm rather than help. The air was thick with tension and danger, and she couldn't help but feel like a single wrong move could lead to disaster.
She fell to her knees, cradling her head as her glasses fell to the ground. She can't get corrupted, she can't. She must not.
She felt the sky turn red, like Felicia's hair. Her breathing became erratic, sweat formed on her forehead, and her ears rang.
YOU ARE READING
The Creator's Past | AnotherWorld: Original
Fantasy[ Another World: Original Story ] {{HEAVY EDITING}} Felicia, a creator who sought to escape her past, constructed a new realm to call her home. For 500 years she dwelt alone, battling to maintain her sanity as memories of a past wrongdoings consumed...
