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Description
I looked over at her. She wore her pale red hair in loose tails, messy and untamed.
She walked hunched, as if the troubles of the world had finally cotton up to her. She trudged as if everything hung from her shoulders. Grey eyes, unblinking, stared straight forward. Thick black rings circled her vacant eyes, the sign of insomnia. She had a haunted look, but did not they all.
As healer, I wanted nothing more than to reach out, sing to her bones. I wanted to heal her both externally and internally. Mind, body, and soul. I felt my arm extend, I could no longer control the urge. A hand grabbed my own, wrenching it backwards. I stifled a scream. I looked up at the owner, pain shot through my arm and I flinched as I met his gaze. Suddenly I realized my mistake; in this state of mind, she was perfect for his power. A wonderful tool he did not want me to break. She was an essential puppet in his plan. His lips brushed my ear and I felt his hot breath. I felt like he had seared my ear. In a shaking tone, he addressed me; while his voice was neutral, I could feel the rage bubbling just below the surface. "Do not medal with me, you know your place. To disrupt my work would be the end for you. If you need to heal something, I would concentrate on your wrist." He pulled away, releasing my now bleeding arm. I bent my head, the girl was already condemned, and I to would be if I could not let her go. I focused my strength on my arm. I felt the stream of magic grow, caressing my arm with a gentleness that his power did not possess. A small sigh escaped my lips and I felt his sharp gaze on my face. My power was nothing but a lamb compared to his lion. If I knew what was good for me, I would never cross the almighty Puppet Master.

I plucked at my collar, a few loose hairs escaping from its brim. I felt those ghostly eyes stare at me. She had not known I was a girl. My long blond hair was always untidily tucked into my shirt's collar; I found it easier for my work and was often mistaken for a boy. I winked at her and she looked away, the grimace returned to my face. Our group was quite a misfit. My gold eyes accented the gold line that ran down my white button up shirt. The tails hung low, showing off my curvy figure. Grey trousers and jacket signified me as a royal healer. After not but a few days in the costume I picked up the paranoid habit of fiddling with my shirt. A costume, that's all it is. A costume that hides the true faces of murderers. I myself am one. I was twelve souls the day I first wore the uniform, back then it was just a tad large, at thirteen souls I pull it off nicely. All the healers were required to take the test at the soul of fourteen but I had excelled and so, had been given it earlier. There were four things a healer had to have to wear the royal medallion, skill Brains, strength, and the fourth, obedience. If not killed by the third test, most buckled on the fourth. You had to pay in others blood to serve the king. I remember it clearly, the stench of the dungeons walls, the sorrowful atmosphere, and my urge to heal. The test was plain and simple, poison your family and watch them die. Even I, who had always dreamed about master healer, had not been prepared. My magic almost succeeded in pulling away from me, ruining the test, but I stopped it my goals were more important than a few dead hearts. Or so I thought, a lot can change in but a year. I wish I had never done it, wish I had been, more than logical and cold. But wishes are for the children and with my thirteenth soul, I am no long one. I have witnessed horrible things, done awful things. The opposite of what a healer is created to do. What child innocence I had once owned, has been ripped away in all but a year. Deep in my heart, I feel the marks of twenty souls. I have grown more than my body has lived in this world.
As soon as they see the royal collar, I am all but a murderer to them. Some pity me for becoming something so malicious at such an age; others hate me for what I have done and what I will do. Overtime, the pain of the glares has lessoned and I have learned to ignore the world. I taunt them by playing with my collar, showing how little I care for their lives. Deep down I have the heart of a healer but with out anyone I am able to heal, I fear what is left of my true nature, the soft child I once was, will wither away and die. Maybe it has all ready and I have failed to notice?

As we trudged forward, I cot sight of a building not far off. Could this be the inn master talked of? I hurried ahead, breaking our common stride. The ground was like muddy quick sand, the skies like a particularly nasty wound, and the weather as if all spirits were crying. Everything screamed of failure and loss, the same as my insides. I felt the strings before they attached. It was one of the first lessons ever taught at the Theatre. It was essential to know what do or else die. I started to slow down, quelling my little hope. The strings latched onto my back, arms, legs, and heart, tangling with my main of hair. I knew it would hurt when he unlocked me but at my state of mind, I knew my hair would probable fall out any way. I still had nightmares about before…
He willed me back, yanking hard with his glowing fingers. As I fell into step behind him, I bent my head in surrender. He was asserting his dominance. I was just his pawn.

I watched the girl shuffle down the stairs, her red hair even shaggier in her hurry to please my brother. Rubbing her eyes, she slammed herself into a chair, a genuine smile laid across her face if all but for a second. Was this what happened to humans that successfully reached the land of dreams? I flicked my gaze to the mage, who was carrying our breakfast over from the Inn. She smiled cheerfully placing food before us. Weariness overtook her as she bowed and handed a tray to my kin. Did she fear him? I smiled a knowing little grin. Of course she did. Her power was but a puddle to his ocean. Turning away from him, I saw her glance at the puppet. She eyed the girl reproachfully. I hoped she did not delve to deep. All that played with brother's fire were burned, if not incinerated. "So how was your sleep?" She played it casually but I could sense her probing the wench. She opened her eyes, staring cautiously at the magician. It was an expected response, nobody had shown her an inch of kindness yet, but the witch still flinched. I saw the girls face soften, she had given in. "For once, no nightmares. Just dreams." I saw my brother move forward out of the corner of my eye. He slammed his fists down on the table, causing it to crack. People turned to stare at us, we had attracted attention. I had wanted just the opposite. Venom and rage spilled from his covered lips and I stepped back, I did not want to get in his way. Even as his folk, he would destroy me willingly. "What do you know of dreams my dear vessel?" I saw her back up and then stop, not but a four foot away. "I know that if you want it badly enough you will succeed, If you work hard enough it will happen, and if it is pure nothing will stop it." She bent her head like she expected to be slapped, but he did nothing. I was surprised, I had never seen big brother control his temper like this.

I lay on the ground, my tormentor looming above me. I thought I was strong enough, but that was a deadly assumption. Every part of my body was bruised and beaten, tangled and pulled at all different directions. "You know nothing of dreams, you are a nightmare. A child can want to stay a child forever but they will eventually grow. Hard work has nothing to do with anything if your body cannot take it. Dreams are not made of sugar, but chemicals and wishes. My dream is not pure but I will still succeed. You have been molded to my own dreams you have but nightmares. Dreams are what make you strong, you have none. You are no use to me if you are not the strongest." He walked away, leaving me to lie in the dust. Searing pain shot through my forehead and I knew that I had been freed of my servitude. I struggled to stand but only accomplished getting to me knees. "You're wrong, I did have a dream, a dream I thought was hopeless. But you fulfilled you have resurrected my dream. I am free, I belong to know one. I will become stronger to fight for this dream so that I may never wake up. I will make it eternal. I will someday destroy you and your dream that is my nightmare and I will complete it." I slouched back against the rocks; I knew that would be long ahead. Feeling my forehead I sensed a new mark had taken the olds place. A new mark to bring in a new beginning.

Blurp of names: (Main character A.K.A. red haired girl: Akane, meaning brilliant red. Healer/ mage: Rie, meaning valued blessing. Puppet master: Iwao, meaning stone man. Iwao's younger brother/ cat boy: Jiro, meaning second son. Akane's friend from the puppet's cross who turns traitor: Rin, meaning cold, dignified, severe. The girl Akane meets up with after Iwao desserts her: Arisu, Japanese name for Alice, meaning noble sort. )

Description
I looked over at her. She wore her pale red hair in loose tails, messy and untamed.
She walked hunched, as if the troubles of the world had finally cotton up to her. She trudged as if everything hung from her shoulders. Grey eyes, unblinking, stared straight forward. Thick black rings circled her vacant eyes, the sign of insomnia. She had a haunted look, but did not they all.
As healer, I wanted nothing more than to reach out, sing to her bones. I wanted to heal her both externally and internally. Mind, body, and soul. I felt my arm extend, I could no longer control the urge. A hand grabbed my own, wrenching it backwards. I stifled a scream. I looked up at the owner, pain shot through my arm and I flinched as I met his gaze. Suddenly I realized my mistake; in this state of mind, she was perfect for his power. A wonderful tool he did not want me to break. She was an essential puppet in his plan. His lips brushed my ear and I felt his hot breath. I felt like he had seared my ear. In a shaking tone, he addressed me; while his voice was neutral, I could feel the rage bubbling just below the surface. "Do not medal with me, you know your place. To disrupt my work would be the end for you. If you need to heal something, I would concentrate on your wrist." He pulled away, releasing my now bleeding arm. I bent my head, the girl was already condemned, and I to would be if I could not let her go. I focused my strength on my arm. I felt the stream of magic grow, caressing my arm with a gentleness that his power did not possess. A small sigh escaped my lips and I felt his sharp gaze on my face. My power was nothing but a lamb compared to his lion. If I knew what was good for me, I would never cross the almighty Puppet Master.

I plucked at my collar, a few loose hairs escaping from its brim. I felt those ghostly eyes stare at me. She had not known I was a girl. My long blond hair was always untidily tucked into my shirt's collar; I found it easier for my work and was often mistaken for a boy. I winked at her and she looked away, the grimace returned to my face. Our group was quite a misfit. My gold eyes accented the gold line that ran down my white button up shirt. The tails hung low, showing off my curvy figure. Grey trousers and jacket signified me as a royal healer. After not but a few days in the costume I picked up the paranoid habit of fiddling with my shirt. A costume, that's all it is. A costume that hides the true faces of murderers. I myself am one. I was twelve souls the day I first wore the uniform, back then it was just a tad large, at thirteen souls I pull it off nicely. All the healers were required to take the test at the soul of fourteen but I had excelled and so, had been given it earlier. There were four things a healer had to have to wear the royal medallion, skill Brains, strength, and the fourth, obedience. If not killed by the third test, most buckled on the fourth. You had to pay in others blood to serve the king. I remember it clearly, the stench of the dungeons walls, the sorrowful atmosphere, and my urge to heal. The test was plain and simple, poison your family and watch them die. Even I, who had always dreamed about master healer, had not been prepared. My magic almost succeeded in pulling away from me, ruining the test, but I stopped it my goals were more important than a few dead hearts. Or so I thought, a lot can change in but a year. I wish I had never done it, wish I had been, more than logical and cold. But wishes are for the children and with my thirteenth soul, I am no long one. I have witnessed horrible things, done awful things. The opposite of what a healer is created to do. What child innocence I had once owned, has been ripped away in all but a year. Deep in my heart, I feel the marks of twenty souls. I have grown more than my body has lived in this world.
As soon as they see the royal collar, I am all but a murderer to them. Some pity me for becoming something so malicious at such an age; others hate me for what I have done and what I will do. Overtime, the pain of the glares has lessoned and I have learned to ignore the world. I taunt them by playing with my collar, showing how little I care for their lives. Deep down I have the heart of a healer but with out anyone I am able to heal, I fear what is left of my true nature, the soft child I once was, will wither away and die. Maybe it has all ready and I have failed to notice?

As we trudged forward, I cot sight of a building not far off. Could this be the inn master talked of? I hurried ahead, breaking our common stride. The ground was like muddy quick sand, the skies like a particularly nasty wound, and the weather as if all spirits were crying. Everything screamed of failure and loss, the same as my insides. I felt the strings before they attached. It was one of the first lessons ever taught at the Theatre. It was essential to know what do or else die. I started to slow down, quelling my little hope. The strings latched onto my back, arms, legs, and heart, tangling with my main of hair. I knew it would hurt when he unlocked me but at my state of mind, I knew my hair would probable fall out any way. I still had nightmares about before…
He willed me back, yanking hard with his glowing fingers. As I fell into step behind him, I bent my head in surrender. He was asserting his dominance. I was just his pawn.

I watched the girl shuffle down the stairs, her red hair even shaggier in her hurry to please my brother. Rubbing her eyes, she slammed herself into a chair, a genuine smile laid across her face if all but for a second. Was this what happened to humans that successfully reached the land of dreams? I flicked my gaze to the mage, who was carrying our breakfast over from the Inn. She smiled cheerfully placing food before us. Weariness overtook her as she bowed and handed a tray to my kin. Did she fear him? I smiled a knowing little grin. Of course she did. Her power was but a puddle to his ocean. Turning away from him, I saw her glance at the puppet. She eyed the girl reproachfully. I hoped she did not delve to deep. All that played with brother's fire were burned, if not incinerated. "So how was your sleep?" She played it casually but I could sense her probing the wench. She opened her eyes, staring cautiously at the magician. It was an expected response, nobody had shown her an inch of kindness yet, but the witch still flinched. I saw the girls face soften, she had given in. "For once, no nightmares. Just dreams." I saw my brother move forward out of the corner of my eye. He slammed his fists down on the table, causing it to crack. People turned to stare at us, we had attracted attention. I had wanted just the opposite. Venom and rage spilled from his covered lips and I stepped back, I did not want to get in his way. Even as his folk, he would destroy me willingly. "What do you know of dreams my dear vessel?" I saw her back up and then stop, not but a four foot away. "I know that if you want it badly enough you will succeed, If you work hard enough it will happen, and if it is pure nothing will stop it." She bent her head like she expected to be slapped, but he did nothing. I was surprised, I had never seen big brother control his temper like this.

I lay on the ground, my tormentor looming above me. I thought I was strong enough, but that was a deadly assumption. Every part of my body was bruised and beaten, tangled and pulled at all different directions. "You know nothing of dreams, you are a nightmare. A child can want to stay a child forever but they will eventually grow. Hard work has nothing to do with anything if your body cannot take it. Dreams are not made of sugar, but chemicals and wishes. My dream is not pure but I will still succeed. You have been molded to my own dreams you have but nightmares. Dreams are what make you strong, you have none. You are no use to me if you are not the strongest." He walked away, leaving me to lie in the dust. Searing pain shot through my forehead and I knew that I had been freed of my servitude. I struggled to stand but only accomplished getting to me knees. "You're wrong, I did have a dream, a dream I thought was hopeless. But you fulfilled you have resurrected my dream. I am free, I belong to know one. I will become stronger to fight for this dream so that I may never wake up. I will make it eternal. I will someday destroy you and your dream that is my nightmare and I will complete it." I slouched back against the rocks; I knew that would be long ahead. Feeling my forehead I sensed a new mark had taken the olds place. A new mark to bring in a new beginning.

Blurp of names: (Main character A.K.A. red haired girl: Akane, meaning brilliant red. Healer/ mage: Rie, meaning valued blessing. Puppet master: Iwao, meaning stone man. Iwao's younger brother/ cat boy: Jiro, meaning second son. Akane's friend from the puppet's cross who turns traitor: Rin, meaning cold, dignified, severe. The girl Akane meets up with after Iwao desserts her: Arisu, Japanese name for Alice, meaning noble sort. )