#spread-thewings

     Time was falling, the clock spinning backwards. What was there to do when the poison of a l'Cie brand infected the purest of hearts? Serah didn't deserve this, no one did. Her eyes began to fill with an eruption of waterfalls. 

     "Snow. Lightning—Where are you?"

     Her mouth began to spill in the pleas of a branded l'Cie. Her throat clogged with a sensation of barbed wires. It was getting rather difficult to speak with countless fears thrown at such innocence. 

     Why was this happening? What could a fal'Cie want with an average person like me? What could my focus possibly be? Serah shook her head. She raised her slender fingers to the roots of her pinkish hair. She began to pull her hair stands in the opposite direction. Her mind spun in derangement. Her brand was like a sickness, the nature of diplosomia attached itself with the mark of black. "Can I wake up now?" No, silly Serah. You can't. She was left in utter solitude. There was no where to go but back in the chaos of her heart.

     Creamy white pellets began to fall from the heavens. Serah drew forth her arm to catch the gifts of the sky. Serah soon coughed a small chortle. "Hah. So the prophecy begins huh?" She slowly lowered her eyelashes, all sunk in blackness as she became blind for a moment. With her ability in sound and smell, Serah inhaled the flames of a foreign stench. She felt a presence lurking in the shadows of her blind spot. She couldn't curve her lips to a smile, she couldn't just break out into an affable manner. She was a l'Cie now, she were nothing but an enemy. She had to keep people away.