Bellini

It. . It’s why I left. . . .



She was sunbathing that day, laying out with her wings spanned as well, her pet Aster of Starfall to her side. Despite relaxing, they were trying to keep their apparel uncrinkled, flattening it out every now and then. She was thankful she wasn’t busy at the moment; Couriers normally always have something to do, though she was dismissed for the time being. Why not spend it with her Aster while warming in the sun, drinking from her homemade container for her fermented drinks.



I didn’t wish to speak of it, and they had respected my request.



When they had first arrived, she was surprised to see herself that the rumors were true: an isle, decorated with vineyards, shrines, and gardens filled with fresh bounties layed floating on the waters, detached from society. It was said that those who wished to stay were implored to do so, but at an odd price, one Bellini was most definitely willing to pay. Fermented beverages, paths to untold power, and all she needed to do was request it from the Ancients she was supposed to recognise? It sound so much better than what their life could’ve turned out to be.


I want to do anything to forget what I did, who I was.
They said this place was just for that.



Bellini honors them with the respect she was supposed to give. They visit the shrines, they gain the answers they asked for, and she gets to leave her past behind, able to forget it all. When she arrived, she found great interest in their close intrigue with the domain’s deity, wanting to learn more about it and him. Oddly enough, the head monarch had come to speak to her when they were looking around the new area, dazed a little by all the energetic sights. The Nocturne was. . .told many things.


The shadows still haunt me. I still see them, at night, in my dreams, behind those I care about. I came here to forget, not to remember.


Her fascination only grew deeper the longer she stayed there. They wanted to know more too, just like everyone else who lived on the isle. She supposed she was thought different, however; Courier clothing was given to her just a few days after her arrival, along with a note that contented of a name:
Monarch Rose Amour.
The name belonged to the head leader of the place, the first who was said to drink a mysterious nectar that granted her power unlike anything Bellini had ever heard of.


I ask for guidance, for assistance, but my answers return unclear, blurry.
Why do I still see them? Why did they follow me?


They enjoy their bright attire, and strive to wear something that always made her stand out in a crowd. A fashionista for apparel, they’ve become fond of helping others pick clothing for others as well, giving critique whilst simultaneously getting it. Gives her something to do whenever she isn’t called to assist the Monarch.


They look like my interpretations of the Shade. Dark, visceral amalgamations of figureless creatures, yet shaped in familiarity. I want them to leave me alone.


Speaking of the Monarch, there was something she owned that interested Bellini when she first spotted it, but they were ushered away very quickly when she asked about it. What was it. . .oh, yes, it was a mysterious book, sealed tightly with thick chains the size of the Fae’s arms. The Nocturne became curious about it and its contents after seeing it for the first time, glancing at it whenever she was near it, which wasn’t very often, if at all..


Perhaps. . .perhaps her book holds answers. I’m beginning to become desparate, even starting to wonder if a perilously-enclosed tome that moves on its own can help my predicament. This place isn’t letting me forget my. . .mistakes.



Bellini hasn’t made very many friends, ironically to her popularity and high-class placement. She’s been. . .lonesome, besides being with their Aster of course. Her Arcane viper had made a fantastic companion for her, eager to see her return to her small hovel she calls home or just plain happy to be with her. Bellini, however, wishes she had someone else besides her beloved pet. There was this other Nocturne, Grenache they believe, that definitely seems friendly around everyone, but it’s more flirtatious than amiable.



They can see me. They can hear me. I can see them.
I. . .can. . . .hear them. . . . .


Y. .y. . .o. . .Ou. . .S. . .se. . e. . .u. . .us. .s. .


I. . .I’m sorry. . .
P-please. . .I never meant it. . .


Ap-pologies c-can’t always b-be accepted. . .

Forgiveness isn’t an option anymore. . . .




I’ve been seeing them around everywhere, trying to avoid them at all costs. I left them behind for a reason. I left. . .for a reason.
They pesker me. They become relentless. How could they follow me?


Don’t act like we are stagnant, Bellini. Do not act like we are mindless.


They’re watching me, behind the others, the shrines, in the distance, or hidden in the trees, anywhere I can be spotted. My only safety is near the Fae. I don’t understand it, but they fear whenever I stray close to her, and when I found this out, I would often keep close to her, until I realised how odd it looked. I had to bear with their enigmatic gazes, striking daggers into the back of my soul for until I became close again.


Its. . .her knowledge. . .she knows what she could do to us. . . .
She could fix us.
She could help us.
She could hurt us.



The only reason why I think they’ve followed me. . .is because my jar has cracked, leaking them from the inside. It’s something I’ve kept hidden from everyone, but it doesn’t seem to bother them all, the shadows using them as hide-and-seek spots. I’ve asked them if they’ve seen them, but they say they don’t understand what I speak of.


They are oblivious of us. They cannot see we watch you, Bellini. They cannot feel what we’ve brang back when we followed you; our sorrow, our misery, our anger. We won’t let you forget that.



Please forgive me. . .