Ghosts and Ruins
Raziel studied her from his quiet spot on the roof. She was out to get water, out in the morning mist. Her orange hair was messy, and her face seemed tired. He kept watching, kept on studying her. He hardly did know her name, and he had never spoken with her, but the past few months he had appeared on this spot, studying her secretly from his hiding spots. She worked at a bakery, and it seemed it was her fathers. Raziel knew her first name, only because of what he had heard, her name was Ash, or what was what people called her anyways, maybe it was a nickname. He knew it was wrong to be spying, but she had caught his interest, so many months ago, but he would not face her, ever. He knew already that he would never get to meet her.
The people of Eteka rushed around the market to get done with their morning duties, and she was like a sun between them, humble yet shining so differently between all these dull people. The Well in the middle of the centre market was her destination, and he jumped from rooftop to rooftop. She was of course unaware of his presence, everyone was, for in their world, he did not even exist.
Raziel sat like a gargoyle upon the roof of the tavern, close to the well so that he could see her perfectly. His dark cloak left his body with the wind, dancing dramatically behind him. Annoyed he pulled it down, though he knew it wouldn't bring forth their attention, they couldn't see him after all.
Snow fell from the sky and decorated the streets of Eteka. It was cold, so cold, but Raziel could hardly feel it, he was a death-speaker, he hardly knew what feelings meant if it hadn't been for Ashlana. That was her name, he had figured out a few days ago when her father had called her name. Ashlana, such a pretty name. He hadn't left his spot for months now and was hardly anything but a pile of snow sitting on a rooftop. He didn't need to eat, didn't need water or even air. He was comfortable in any position, and he had all the time in the world. So he just sat there, studying her every morning and every evening. A few times had he thought if he should go down from the roof and enter the bakery or not, but he was afraid he might ruin this tiny world.
So Raziel waited. Winter became wheel's end, wheel's end became wheelmorning, the sun took power, suddenly the snow was gone and Raziel was still sitting upon his rooftop. Studying this young girl, this goddess of his idolatry, every morning and every evening.
Raziel became obsessed with his fascination, but his fear and shy nature allowed him only to study, for almost a wheel, when the harvest came and the beginning of the second half-wheel of this young age, Raziel decided that his love would simple choke him if he did not talk with her. He jumped from his rooftop, walked trough the crowd, but no one saw him and no one turned their heads even his direction. It was like, he was invisible to them. He walked past the well and into the bakery shop, but none of them even spoke a word to him or gazed upon him. His love, Ashlana was standing by the counter, talking with a man her own age, they were laughing about something stupid. Raziel closed his fists in anger, jealousy boiled over and he stepped forward, placing a hand upon the shoulder of the man.
Darkness came suddenly and Raziel was again alone in the ghostly ruins of what had once been the mighty city Eteka. He was standing in an empty house, angry for no particular reason. There was empty, dusty and destroyed, the building had been some kind of shop but five hundred half-wheels had turned it into nothing but a pile of rumble. Raziel starred out in front of him, frustration, anger, sadness. His eyes filled with tears and for the first time in his life, mortal or immortal, the Death-speaker wept.