Hanging on the streetlight, a tattered, grey veil, singing in the wind. Aralishia could hear a voice, a whisper, just beyond the veil. She did not touch the veil dangling in the night. She simply stared at it, listening to the whisper...what had tattered the veil?
War....
Blood.....battle......death.... it whispered, an echo in her mind, and Ara's words dried to dust. Thoughts glazed over her eyes. She could smell the war, the battlefield, she heard the cries of mercy on her victim's breath. She saw cold, dead, gray eyes, and bodies scattered, collapsing onto the ground. The man, he had face of defeat, defeated by life, his face torn by war. He wasn't dead, not yet, but Ara had slaughtered him. Ara had defeated that man, she had been proud, proud then, shameful now. The wars shone in her eyes, and she nearly lunged forward to rip the veil. She might have lunged for all the pain,but instead she wiped tears angrily from her eyes with her sleeve. She would have lunged at the veil had she been able to stand. She saw the man, she heard his cries, and the slice of her knife against his neck, and his ghost seemed to come and haunt the city. Ara's body turned to ice, her tears frozen in her eyes, in her heart.

Ara knew for whom she had fought for so many years, but why did that man die for it? After all...he didn't....
But he was on the dark side..
Yes, she supposed he was. All the same, who was to say Ara wasn't dark herself? She was a spy, she was killing... All for a good cause.. No, she persisted, a selfish cause That is not all for you fight. You were at war long before you owned your first sword.

For which, Ara had no reply. The world exudes evil. Many a man can not be trusted. Not all men are evil.. It is not safe to trust anyone! You trusted the girl with the empty eyes..You trusted many Galileans.. That was different Untrue. You haven't trusted any man since.. Ara shut the voice out. She couldn't hear the truth; She evaded it.

The truth is what you seek... How could Ara seek and evade?

This is why you are failing

Ara's knees fell the the cold, damp earth. The veil swayed back and forth, pulsing like her heart, her body lunging forward, her tears. Her mother might very well be dead. The captureres had waited for five years, and she didn't yet have the money. Ara could hear her mother's voice. She might be dead, and I have cursed her, her voice lingers in the air, her name on my breath. I know my failure, Oh God!

Tracyn shuffled through the streets, his cloak tugged tight around him. He took swift glances to points around him, a recent brawl having spooked him to more diligent awareness. He stopped for a second, thinking he had heard a particular sound. Not of a fight, certainly not that. He took a few steps to where he figured it had come from when he noticed a being on their knees. His kindness on the forefront, defense to the back, he approached the person. He tapped her lightly on the back and asked the most predictable of all things to say, "Are you alright?"