Her eyes stung and her cheeks burned as the scalding sand pelted her face. The forceful winds whipped the sands into a frenzy so fierce that the force could degrade years worth of rock and limestone in mere minutes. The lone female breathed deeply through the thick, scratchy cloth that covered her delicately shaped lips. She crouched in the arid solitude of a cave. Far towards the back. She had been caught earlier in one of the most powerful sandstorms the Kingdom had seen in over 500 years. Estelle growled lowly in her throat, the vibration scratched the dry, water deprived surface. Sandstorms could last days in the Santasana desert. Frustration welled in her as she plopped herself face down on the cool sandstone of the cave. The light was already starting to dim and if she didn't get to the capital soon she would fail her mission.
Estelle tapped her foot to an invisible rhythm and hummed to occupy herself. She finished the song she was humming and took a small sip from her canteen. She practically groaned as the water hit her lips, moistening them and washing off the sand and grime that had become caked upon them. Her canteen shone in the meager amount of light emitted from the locket around her neck, the very locket it was her job to deliver.
The opulent light emitted from the locket was of an ethereal quality. It shone like the moon was covered by a thin sheen of blue. The locket was made of a pale gold, shaped like vines that held a small, thin inset of a clear blue stone, with lines of the deepest black swirling in it's depths. The stone was entrancing, and it was said that if you stared at it long enough you would see the depth of your emotion. For some that was very little and for Estelle it was practically none. She had obviously tested this theory. Multiple times. Each time with the same results. Estelle would stare into the shimmering blue stone and focus all her attention on the swirling black depths, praying to see something. Some flicker of movement that would tell her that she was not less than human, as she had been told all her life. It had been drilled into her over and over again.
As she sat on the sandy floor and contemplated her emotionless existence, the winds began to die down and she assessed the foot and a half of golden sand that had piled up at the mouth of the cave. Estelle crawled on her hands and knees towards the cave entrance. The scraping of her canteen on the rough floor created a harsh, grating sound that made her wince. As she neared the front of the cave estelle began to quiet her movements to make sure that no enemies would notice her presence as she escaped the cave. Estelle dug her hands into the fine sand that blocked her way out and marveled at the velvet feel of it. She scooped up a handful and watched it fall, methodically out of her hands. If she didn't know better she would describe the feeling as pleasurable or pleasing to her. But, she did know better and she knew that she was incapable of feeling, or if she was the moment was as fleeting as the passing of time.
Intent on moving the sand out of her way Estelle began to shovel the sand towards her and the more she shoveled, the more sand fell, warm and smooth into her lap. She could feel the delicate heat through the thin, airy fabric of her robe. When the pile of sand in her lap indicated that the hole she had made was big enough, Estelle poked her head out of the opening she created and checked her surroundings. She saw miles and miles of picturesque sand, gleaming invitingly in the dazzlingly bright light of the Santasana Desert sun. And in the distance to the east there was the smallest pinprick of a spire, peeking over the edge along the sculpted horizon. Her end goal was in sight. Estelle was suddenly eager to get done with this mission and be able to relax again. Running a stolen locket with magical qualities to the capital was not on her favorite things to do list. Estelle jumped to her feet and proceeded to wipe the sand from her clothes. It was everywhere, the sand stuck in her hair and crusted around her eyes. It was even in the soles of her shoes. Estelle sighed with mild
disappointment. This was going to be a long journey
YOU ARE READING
The Girl Who Learned to Feel
FantasyEstelle had lived her whole life believing that she feels nothing, that she exists solely for the purpose of completing the missions given to her. That nothing matters to her. She was taught that she is less than others, and always would be. But, af...
