Alora's Lament pt.1

The mocking jeers of the gargoyles were softened by the spattering of rain on the leaf strewn ground. A slim cloaked figure flited between the headstones of the cemetery; a cascade of red hair visible underneath an ornately stitched hood.

"Ye look like a squished tomato ye lanky bastard!" a gargoyle with a partially smashed face barked at the figure as they passed through the arch it perched on. Beyond, white marbled benches made a half circle around a fountain that had long gone dry. A crow cocked it's head at the appearance of a visitor from atop a statue in the center of the fountain. The marble was dirty and worn from time, yet the beautifully carved nymph still seemed to follow you with it's eyes. The crow took on the appearance of wind-swept hair crowning the nymph briefly, before it flew off to a nearby tree.

The figure paused for a time to gaze on the statue, lowering her hood to reveal a tattooed face. Framing her large green eyes, intricate designs accentuated gorgeous features in tones of grey. There seemed to be a conversation taking place, as the wind picked up the air took on a thick quality. In the distance a gargoyle made a case that the woman's mother was a street walker, interrupted by an abrupt screech from the crow.

Soft words that began as the motion of water flowing cascaded from the woman's lips, Surging slowly to the velocity of a raging waterfall. The wind tossed leaves about lazily at first, collecting them in a vortex that formed around the clearing. Now frantically squawking, the crow flapped about the edge of the whirlwind, as the womans eyes went dark.

Her elegant face had become terrible, her voice chilling as the chant continued. Tossed about in the air current, the crow fell to the ground by the archway, his shape distorting. His body elongated, sprouting a grubby blonde head. His wings flapped desperately, growing with each motion into the arms of a man. The legs came last, which really would've been very funny had it not been for the unearthly drone of the woman's chant sending the whole place to chaos.

Finally whole, the man seemed to collect his options, and probably his resolve. As he strode towards the woman, the last feathers that clung to him blew from his weathered face. Even the gargoyles were expressing concern at this point, their words tangled together in the howling wind.

To be continued...

Photo is my own. Thanks for reading!