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Sme·ràl·do [Authors: Aysha Khan & Zohara Khan]
Sme·ràl·do [Authors: Aysha Khan & Zohara Khan]
Author: Zohara H. Khan

P R O L O G U E

Author: Zohara H. Khan
last update Last Updated: 2024-10-29 19:42:56

The hollow dark grey sky hovered over the lonely tower. The pitter-patter of rain echoed throughout the desolate and dark walls. Yet, the sky and its friends weren't the only ones who were gloomy. Inside the gloomy dark tower sat a man, his body perched over the window still. Hollow eyes staring only God knows where any passer-by would only think that he was probably dead with the way his eyes stared off into space, no emotion, no reaction, eyes completely passionless. 

The face of the man was covered with what was supposed to be a black ceramic mask. Only those restrained dark eyes were seen.  The downpour slowly coming to a stop, as a cloud of mist formed with the cold that the rain bought, causing chilly yet calming weather to take over.

However, nothing fazed the man who was still sitting at his usual state, the cold weather not causing any indifference although he was just in a light cotton cape, and a pair of soft trousers.

After what felt like an eternity, the man finally moved.

The black mask resting on his face was soon removed as the man cupped it out of his face. Slowly his eyes moved and there was something akin to regret and sadness suddenly appearing over his cold features. His stare lingering off towards a flower which was in a colour mixture of blue and purple. A flower which was bloomed in a garden of loneliness.

A flower that resembles her.

Watching as the flowers bloom into their full beauty with the sun finally rising over the distant mountains. Taking the mask in one hand he stares at it, with a sad smile stretching over his face. Soon, he crushed the poor mask, leaving only the crumbles behind.

There was nothing else left for him.

Left all alone in his tower, as he stared at the now broken mask.

-Aysha

----------------

One Year ago:

Yovanni released an exaggerated grunt before tossing the parchment away and slumping back on his armchair, resting his hand on his forehead.

“Another useless day.”

If Yovanni thought that his mutterings were going unheard, he was surely wrong. For at that very moment, Heronimo walked in, another parchment in his hands as he glanced at the blonde young man sprawled on the chair. “Now what has you in such a sour mood? You smell of rotting eggs.”

Yovanni turned to Heronimo with a glare, but the red head seemed barely fazed as he growled. “You find zero work to do for weeks and see if you don’t smell of rotten eggs.”

“Umm, the last time I checked, we all worked together right?” Jecopo suddenly appeared, holding a parchment as well. Yovanni only grunted in response. “Get out of here Hero.”

Heronimo shrugged, leaving the room while Jecopo further entered inside, watching the elder with curious doe eyes. “What’s wrong Yovi?”

But before the grumpy man can reply, a voice interrupts. “I will tell you what’s wrong. Our Yovanni here is workaholic and currently he is in risk of losing control to his beast because we haven’t had work to do in a week. Holy Moon Goddess! This piece is the most boring one I have ever read so far! Did you read yours Jecopo?” Came the deep and husky voice of Vittorio, his hairs tousled around in messy waves.

A low growl emitted from deep within Yovanni’s throat as he glared at Vittorio while the younger  made himself comfortable opposite Yovanni in an armchair without a care in the world. He tossed the parchment to the floor carelessly before grabbing the liquor on the table and filling a glass, waiting for Jecopo’s response that wasn’t the least bit surprised at the brunette’s words.

“No, I was going to read it. Is that why Yovi is pissed? Because this piece is horrible too?”

“As horrible as the previous ones Jecopo, don’t even waste your time reading them.” Vittorio replied, but as soon as he said that, his body stilled as another scent entered the room, the scent of forest wood but this time, it was mixed with an ugly scent, something like a rotten egg.

“Then maybe you try to come up with something that isn’t horrible like every other day Vit, if you think you are so smart.”

The room went deadly quite at Niccolo’s words as he slowly stepped in, his face a blank mask but the threat in his voice was clear. Vittorio quietly stood up, lowering his head in shame, while Jecopo gulped and Yovanni snorted.

The tension in the room was so thick that even a knife could cut through it, and someone might have, if Silas wouldn’t have stepped forward in time to save the day.

“Now now Niccolo, don’t go around glaring at everyone with that face, you will scare the pups to death.”

The cool demeanour of Niccolo suddenly changed to one of confusion as he tried to understand Silas’s words, wondering where one earth did he find ‘pups’. But before Niccolo could voice his opinions out, Silas walked forward and sauntered into the room, his soft cotton candy scent wafting around and providing positive energy at the same time he tossed his own parchment to the floor, looking around.

“Vittorio your rudeness cannot always be tolerated, apologise.”

“I was just jesting.”

“Apologize.”

“Apologies, brother Niccolo, I was merely jesting.”

“I know, and I apologize too. It’s not your fault you didn’t like it, No one did.” Niccolo replied with a sigh, calming his inner beast.

No one said anything for a long time, for no one knew what else to. The seven boys were now together in one room, Heronimo having had joined them including Jeronimus, who was now sitting beside his friend Vittorio with a gloomy look.

“What do we do now? We haven’t had a duet in weeks, and we are running low on income. We need to find a song fast Niccolo.” Jeronimus said softly, his voice filled with sadness.

Every eyes turned to the said man before he sighed, running his fingers through his hairs. At long last, he stared at his friends one by one before donning his coat. “I’m going to head out for a while.”

The market place was filled to the brim with chatter as buyers yelled their prices and the sellers tried to purchase. Niccolo walked leisurely among the people, until he felt a tiny tug at his over coat. Looking down, he found a tiny little girl looking up at him with doe eyes.

“Sir, if it’s not much of a bother to you, could you please take this and give it to that Lord going over there? He dropped this and passed by, I would give it myself but I can’t run, for my leg is injured.” Niccolo looked at the child’s said leg and indeed there was a bandage wrapped around. He turned to look at the passing man before nodding to the tiny girl with a tight smile. She handed him the object, which was actually a pocket watch.

With a heavy sigh, Niccolo followed after the man in order to get to him, but the man was just too fast and as the time passed, Niccolo found himself reaching an unfamiliar place, until he realized he was no longer in the market place, but a silent, lonely meadow.

“Why are you following me?” A voice suddenly growled from behind Niccolo, scaring the living daylights out of him. The man was huge and he towered over Niccolo, his eyes looking suspiciously at Niccolo. Niccolo straightened himself before saying in a confident voice. “I wasn’t following you sir, A villager said you dropped this and asked me to give it back to you. Is this yours?”

Showing his hand forward, the man noticed the pocket watch and his eyes turned into slits before he rudely snatched it from Niccolo’s hands, shoving it inside his pocket. “DID YOU SEE WHAT WAS INSIDE!?”

“N-No, I didn’t. Why? Is something inside?” Niccolo found himself foolishly questioning the fuming alpha. But when no reply came, Niccolo decided it was time for him to leave, as he bowed in farewell and begin walking away.

Until the man spoke up again.

“It has a photograph of the love of my life.”

Niccolo swiftly turned around; having a huge urge to ask what he just said to repeat it again, but a part of him knew the man wouldn’t repeat. So he quietly went back to the man, staring at his face which was no longer in a hard scowl, but a smile etched on his face.

It seemed like the man had a story to tell, and Niccolo had all the time in the world. So he did the one thing he thought he should.

“Would you like to talk about her?”

-Zohara

Comments (1)
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Asiya H. khan
Wow...so intriguing!!!
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