09-05-2016, 02:49 AM
The rush of battle ceased, and the birds resumed their chirping.
Erza allowed her skintight armor to dissipate, dropping the twinswords at her side as she surveyed her surroundings. There lay 6 mangled bodies, entrails strewn about the road and blood swirling together with settling clouds of ruddish brown dust. Regardless, the scent of the air was cleaner yet than any Erza had ever before experienced. Her nude body, caked in excrement and blood, hardly even recognizable as human, crumpled to the dirt at her feet.
She awoke, groggy, an unknown amount of time later, pulled out of a deep, exhausted slumber by the clattering of hooves and rattling of wagon wheels. Bolting awake, she scampered off the road into the deep grasses at its side, doing her best to conceal her crimson hair and brown-mattled body from the open thoroughfare.
Though she could not see it, Erza knew the instant the caravan turned the corner into view of the mess she'd made because of the gasps, retches, and single scream of panic. The wagons stopped, as did all noise but for the continued retching of those civilians unused to the horrors of death. Erza was surprised that the bodies were still present - she was sure hers, the time she died, had faded away to regenerate elsewhere. That's what death WAS, in this place, right? Temporary?
A very long hour passed, during which some members of the traveling party tended to the dead. Religious folk, maybe? Or just impractical? The wagons were then on their way, and Erza re-emerged from her hiding spot. The dirt road was heavily stained crimson, and small chunks of still-fresh flesh remained scattered about the area. Chips of wood, obsidian, and all manner of strange materials from her containment vessel were spread throughout the visible landscape - she could see small splinters of dark stone stuck into trees fifty feet away. She was lucky not to have stepped on any in her mad dash for cover.
The bodies were gone, but the general stench of the area wouldn't be gone for weeks.
Erza sighed heavily, allowing her armor to re-form on her body but quickly dismissing it. She remained caked in all manner of things unsanitary, and it felt sacrilegious to allow her prized Heart Kreuz armor to make contact with such filth. Idly kicking a chunk of disembodied liver, she began walking the same way her captors had been traveling. Need a bath. And to find out what the hell that was all about.
She didn't allow herself to think about it, but the power over life she'd held as she sliced the last man's throat open... It was unclean. It was uncalled for. It was unnecessary loss of life, an overreaction, just because of adrenaline, a strange fluke. It was evil.
It was the best she'd felt in years.
Erza allowed her skintight armor to dissipate, dropping the twinswords at her side as she surveyed her surroundings. There lay 6 mangled bodies, entrails strewn about the road and blood swirling together with settling clouds of ruddish brown dust. Regardless, the scent of the air was cleaner yet than any Erza had ever before experienced. Her nude body, caked in excrement and blood, hardly even recognizable as human, crumpled to the dirt at her feet.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
She awoke, groggy, an unknown amount of time later, pulled out of a deep, exhausted slumber by the clattering of hooves and rattling of wagon wheels. Bolting awake, she scampered off the road into the deep grasses at its side, doing her best to conceal her crimson hair and brown-mattled body from the open thoroughfare.
Though she could not see it, Erza knew the instant the caravan turned the corner into view of the mess she'd made because of the gasps, retches, and single scream of panic. The wagons stopped, as did all noise but for the continued retching of those civilians unused to the horrors of death. Erza was surprised that the bodies were still present - she was sure hers, the time she died, had faded away to regenerate elsewhere. That's what death WAS, in this place, right? Temporary?
A very long hour passed, during which some members of the traveling party tended to the dead. Religious folk, maybe? Or just impractical? The wagons were then on their way, and Erza re-emerged from her hiding spot. The dirt road was heavily stained crimson, and small chunks of still-fresh flesh remained scattered about the area. Chips of wood, obsidian, and all manner of strange materials from her containment vessel were spread throughout the visible landscape - she could see small splinters of dark stone stuck into trees fifty feet away. She was lucky not to have stepped on any in her mad dash for cover.
The bodies were gone, but the general stench of the area wouldn't be gone for weeks.
Erza sighed heavily, allowing her armor to re-form on her body but quickly dismissing it. She remained caked in all manner of things unsanitary, and it felt sacrilegious to allow her prized Heart Kreuz armor to make contact with such filth. Idly kicking a chunk of disembodied liver, she began walking the same way her captors had been traveling. Need a bath. And to find out what the hell that was all about.
She didn't allow herself to think about it, but the power over life she'd held as she sliced the last man's throat open... It was unclean. It was uncalled for. It was unnecessary loss of life, an overreaction, just because of adrenaline, a strange fluke. It was evil.
It was the best she'd felt in years.
![[Image: Erza_kicks_Happy.gif]](http://images4.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20121027120537/fairytail/images/e/ed/Erza_kicks_Happy.gif)