(Completed)
Two assassins were set to kill a girl. No questions asked. Just kill her and claim their prize. That was their mission. Except one of them was not supposed to visit Volney, the land of the dead and the other fall in love with a girl and...
Hey, I'm back! Been too long since I saw you all again. Anyway, Enjoy.
A Perfect Birthday
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The unique silver outline of each tree was entrancing. Though the snow covered the backyard, the morning sun gave it a warm silver glow. She could hear the soft voices of the mockingbirds. The songbirds would always retire for the winter. Nevertheless, here they were, casting forth their melody. She shook her head at that thought.
It was quite a peaceful scene from the kitchen window. Chavva knew she had to go to the forest to collect all the herbs and the roots she needed for winter. Despite winter being the pride of Acracia, it literally froze everything on its way even people, had they not been motile.
Sighing, she turned her head towards the work at hand. The chocolate cake with vanilla frosting and no cherries looked fantastic. Amara despised full chocolate or vanilla.
The steam from the bronze kettle said the tea was ready. Humming to herself a random tune, Chavva poured the chamomile tea into a ceramic cup and made her way to Amara's room. She could do at least this much to her. It was, after all, Amara's birthday.
She had expected Amara to be screaming, as she always did because of her nightmares, which she refused to talk. What surprised her was, today, Amara was sleeping as if slumber was her long lost friend who had revisited her. So deep in sleep that she had not noticed the soft snowflakes which entered her room at night unannounced nor that her blanket was miles away from her. Not even when she was fatally wounded, had she slept soundly.
Even though Chavva did not have the heart to wake her friend, she knew she had to. Placing the tea on the table beside, she shook Amara awake.
Lazily opening her one eye, she looked at Chavva as if she was a celestial being. Then she closed her eyes again. Without a warning, she woke up with a scream. Chavva started laughing.
Rubbing her eyes, Amara squealed, "It's my birthday is it not? And you made my favourite cake! I can smell it. You are the best Chavva." She then placed her hand over her mouth not believing that she had squealed.
Chavva would have died from laughter, and she would not mind it. It was possible to miss the flash of sorrow in her lilac eyes, as the feeling of joy shone on her face. As a friend, she was happy about Amara's birthday, but as the one who trusted her instincts, she was not. She tried to change her friend's path of life, but all were proven vain.
"Yes, it is your birthday, Amara. You have done a good job of surviving for twenty years in life," she said dryly.
"Why thank you, Chavva. You might as well wished me with a slice of cake," the red-haired girl said in a disappointed tone.
"It may be your birthday. But if you do not go to bath you will not get food, much less your favourite cake." Chavva chided.
"Is it not too cold to take a bath? I think for one day I can get that excuse," Amara pleaded.
