WOOT! Gaia let me back on!! Here's my entry.
There are tales told by many a traveler, most of them different, but all of them the same. They tell of a spirit that defies the mind with wonder, that bends reality to be. They tell of a being that brings peace where there was war, health where there was sickness, hope where there was despair, and love where there was hate. They tell of this spirit's beauty and kindness, strength and passion, mercy and wrath. Some say that these tales are mere folly, illusions created by a weary mind, lies made by a prideful heart, a story made by a hopeful soul, but I know better.
Listen, my children, and listen well, for I have seen this spirit, and she told me her story, and I will now tell it to you. The tale that she wove for me was one of sadness and strife, heartache and hardship, misery and loss, but I heard every word, and every one is true.
Her story began, like so many others, at the beginning. She did not begin as a spirit, but a being of flesh like us all. Her name was After the Storm, for that was when she was born. Her coat was colored like the rainbow that shone on that fateful day. She lived and she grew in a pack of her own, she had a family, friends, and a home, but as Fate deemed it, it was not to last. When she was yet young, and not yet fully grown, it was stolen away, in an instant of time.
Bad men came then, men and their pets, they came to destroy and to steal in their hate. She watched as this happened, from the top of a hill, she wanted to help them, but she found not the will. She ran for her life, she ran for days at a time, she ran from her home, and never returned. As she ran through the world, what she saw brought her sadness, for she found not one place free from hate's madness. She cried for her world, shed tears in mourning, she wished for the compassion, that made her young life great. She grieved for those killed out of spite and hate, and she vowed to never again let fear stay her feet. She vowed to stand up for peace, and against this senseless violence, and not to rest while evil remained.
She lived these vows, throughout her life, not once was she unfaithful to those who suffered from spite. Her love and her compassion were beyond compare, she helped all who suffered under hate's chilling stare. She lived out her life, healing other's pains, doing good deeds, and fighting love's bane. But this, my children, is just the beginning, for Fate is cruel in the tales worth spinning. She had made her vow, one she intended to keep, but, like an evil joke, Fate let her sow, but not reap.
One fateful day, before the sun had risen, she lay on her side, for she had been smitten. Late in the night, a deed had been done, by one filled with hate, one fearing the sun. She lay there in pain as her life slipped away, she lay there and waited for death's peaceful embrace. As she lay dying, her coat turning pure red, Fate looked down, and shook his head. There would be no peace, for she had vowed not to rest, and evil still lingered, still made this world its nest.
When the Aersha awoke, she found, to her horror, that she lay in the field, the feild of her murder. As she stood up, she felt very strange, she looked at trees around her and at the Drey's grassy mane. She looked to her feet, filled with shock and terror, for there she lay, lifeless forever. Once again she ran, though this time was different, now she had no escape, and nowhere to hide.
So, now she wanders, from here and to there, fulfilling her vow, and banishing fear. She still shows her kindness, still tries to keep strife at bay, still grieved and still saddened by hateful hearts. So remember, my children, that death and fate are not half as cruel as one who shows hate.
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