Exile

The land slowly slides into darkness as the sun fades out of sight. This daily cycle had occurred for millennia now. Despite its' deceptive harmlessness, the dangers of nighttime were not to be underestimated. Even more so when it happens to take place in a forest.

For some creatures, night was the perfect playground. For that single instant, they became the predators. The prima donna, if you will. Under their supervision, nothing was to be taken at first glance. Textures normally dismissed as common-place instead became a fuel for paranoia. Shadows became nightmare fuel...

Sounds become death, for if a creature makes a sound-

Snap.

-its prey is already in its grasp.

Shaking eyes whip down, as chattering nerves increase in intensity. A small figure drenched in the moonlight and the red of blood... heaves a sigh of relief. Stepping out of the remains of a dead branch, the girl dragged up her bruised and battered limbs before disappearing into the night. The only sign of her existence was a faded rustic red in an endless sea of green.

Time continues to pass on, as does the night. Slowly but surely the sun rises once more, and the cycle continues. Blinding light makes its' way down to Earth. Holding her hand up in an attempt to block the sun, Amelia wakes up from her bed atop a tree. It was a simple weave composed entirely of long grasses lying on the ground. Her pillow was the excess frills and layers from the modest (by noble standards) dress.

'It looks like that dress had its use after all... When father bought it despite the burdens on our fiances, I was really mad, but I guess even things like this have their uses.'

Amelia's hand travels up to her forehead, tracing the protruding bump.

'Though if it wasn't for the defect... No, the innocence, I would have had to go without a pillow for the night. I simply don't have the strength yet to tear tailored fabric. Nor would I have survived all of those wolves...'

Her mouth opened to mutter an almost inaudible sentence.

"A blessing from god, huh."

She sat there for a long time, before gradually getting up. Silently, she wrapped her blanket around herself in a makeshift shawl, and threw the fragments of her dress in the fire. She then abruptly laid on the ground before rolling around a few times.

'I look pretty similar to a traveler now. It's time to see what the situation is in the village.'

Amelia began to trudge her way back to the village, sometimes running and using her innocence to clear a path through the bugs. In the end, she was forced to use her innocence to move her legs for the last stretch. At the wooden gate of the village, she took extra care that her face couldn't be seen and walked up to the sole guard.

"Can I pass?"

The guard looked over her for a second, before giving her the go ahead. The security had always been somewhat lax because the village itself was in the middle of nowhere. The term 'quaint village in the countryside' described it perfectly. The worst crimes that had even happened in its' history of establishment was simply stealing, and a couple fights here and there. It was nowhere near murder.

Then the screaming started, shattering what would have been a peaceful day. It was a loud shrieking sound of pure terror that originated from the largest house in the village- the baron's house. People immediately began to rush toward the mansion, including the guard. Amelia merely stood there, already knowing what had happened.

'...They found the bodies, I guess.'

It was the opening act to a cascade of tears.

'Miranda, Cecilia, Benny, Adam, Edward, Ally... You're all really dead aren't you? Somehow it just felt like a dream. Just a bad dream that I'd wake up from eventually. But... I'm already awake...'

She just continued to stand there for what could have been hours, or merely minutes. Time continued to tick on mercilessly. She eventually woke up from her trance at the sound of something being nailed to the wall. Amelia's eyes shifted ever so slightly, leaving the majority of the shawl still on her face. She found herself staring back at a poorly drawn rendition of her own face.

Wanted Only Alive:

Amelia von Alstein

-Suspect for the murder of six people and the abduction of one missing person-

'...What the hell? How can they possibly suspect me... I'm only 10 years old! Unless... That exorcist is using this to find me! This organization is more influential than I thought. Does the missing person part mean that Charlie's okay? No, it could just be a trap...'

In the distance, a gaunt, weary looking old man slowly walked forward towards Amelia. His left foot was crooked in a weird angle fully displaying his limp. He had injured it in an accident when he was young. He paused for a short moment, before lightly tapping Amelia on the shoulder.

"Little miss, are you okay? You've been standing there for quite some time."

Amelia's muscles instantly tightened so as to be able to run at any time before lowering her guard slightly. She recognized old Warren's voice, and she knew that he would never hurt her, or any child for that matter. Making sure the shawl still covered her face, she turned around to face him.

"One of my friends was a servant," Amelia said while pitching her voice as low as it could go. "I'm sorry, I'll stop standing here."

Old Warren's mouth widened into an 'o', before settling into a sad grimace.

"I'm sorry for your loss. Can't say I knew any of those poor folks that well, but I do know the world's lost out on a fine lot of lads and lasses," Warren spoke with a bitter smile. "And don't you worry about standing here little miss, it's a public place. It's not my place to tell ya off."

Old Warren's hands rose to his chest as he softly mumbled a prayer. Amelia's eyes widened as she felt the now familiar icy sting of tears before pushing the urge away. Her hands softly came together in prayer. She simply wished that they would have a better life next time. One where they wouldn't have to experience too much pain and suffering.

Old Warren and Amelia simply stood in front of the wanted sign before Warren softly spoke up.

"I'm sorry if this seems a bit forward to say, but I don't believe that this kid was the one who did it. I've known her since she was two for Christ's sakes," He said with a fond smile on his face.

"The little brat dressed in black simply flashed that shiny emblem of his, and the security officers were fawning all over him. It was like he had just spouted out the words of god himself. He seemed real shady in my books."

He paused for a moment before letting out an embarrassed laugh.

"Sorry, I was jabbering away again."

Amelia allowed her mouth curl up into a fond smile. Warren's tongue always seemed to run away from him. It was something that his wife yelled at him a lot for. Helen was always making cookies, so whenever he started to talk too much in her presence, she'd just stuff his face with cookies.

"Rest assured, I never really believed that she was the one who did it. I'm sorry but I have to go now."

She waved before running off into the distance. Old Warren's face sharpened as a look of intelligence bloomed within his eyes. But his fond smile still decorated his face.

"I'm happy that you're okay, Ojuo-sama. We need to work on your disguises though."