Man Of Benevolence

Man Of Benevolence

Status: Finished

Genre: Fan Fiction

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Fan Fiction

Summary

Chenoa had just gotten used to her abusive life when Tao snagged her from the world. Now, trapped with Yun and the other Warriors of Virtue she must find a way home before her heart belongs to the virtue of benevolence. I own nothing an am only a huge fan of an understated movie and book franchise.

Summary

Chenoa had just gotten used to her abusive life when Tao snagged her from the world. Now, trapped with Yun and the other Warriors of Virtue she must find a way home before her heart belongs to the virtue of benevolence. I own nothing an am only a huge fan of an understated movie and book franchise.

Chapter1 (v.1) - Man Of Benevolence

Author Chapter Note

Chenoa had just gotten used to her abusive life when Tao snagged her from the world. Now, trapped with Yun and the other Warriors of Virtue she must find a way home before her heart belongs to the virtue of benevolence. I own nothing and am only a huge fan of an understated movie and book franchise.

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: March 06, 2014

Reads: 460

Comments: 1

A A A | A A A

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: March 06, 2014

A A A

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"Hey!" a catcall hollered from behind Chenoa as she trudged along the dark, broken sidewalk. She tried to ignore the idiot but he sped up in his overpriced Camaro, revving the engine as he pulled sidelong of her. "Hey, baby, need a ride?"

"No, thank you," she muttered elusively, keeping her gaze to the cracked concrete. Can't a girl walk anywhere without being harassed? Why did her truck have to break down in Stead of all places? The gas meter had been at empty for a whole fifteen minutes and she had only a mile to go. But no, stupid piece of shit didn't want to make it. So here she was walking with a guy stalking her like a cat in heat.

"C'mon, where do you need to go? It's free," the annoying man crooned invitingly when she paused at a crosswalk. Chenoa snorted at that and finally looked up at him with a displeased grimace. Not even mildly interesting or attractive.

"Nothing's free, asshole. Now leave me alone," she demanded threateningly, clutching her large purse to her side. Briskly she continued across, ignoring his continuing calls. Luckily he turned there with a final holler of 'Fuck you, bitch!' and sped off toward Lemmon Valley. Sighing in disgust, Chenoa stopped at the bus stop bench and sat down. Her mind felt too heavy to make it to the gas station.

Stead was a section of Reno, Nevada populated by felons, drug addicts and helpless, hopeless kids who turn to alcohol and sex for relief. Duplexes of faded yellow and rusted brown leered down with windows covered in cardboard and neglected yards. Run down trailer parks completed Stead's misery, supplying a surplus of poverty. It was dangerous here during the day and with her being there at eleven p.m., her chances of escaping unscathed were slim. Would've been safer to get in the car with that man, psycho or not.

"I hate this place," Chenoa grumbled in a depleted heated whisper as she tapped her soft boots on the grungy floor. She supposed it wasn’t even the place, though it was horrible. Anywhere would seem like hell right now.

Matt will be angry when she returned. Of course he was always upset about something, generally something she did. Always it seemed he was ready to fly off the handle about the minutest thing and normally that meant a few new bruises for her. Oh, he said that he never meant it and it wasn’t that she believed him. She was an idiot for staying but not a complete moron to think that he didn’t want to do what he did.

Chenoa vaguely pondered why she was out there and if she even wanted to go home tonight. She would eventually. This empty, hollow resignation wouldn't give her peace. He thought she was cheating as he always does when all she did was go to the store and get some milk. Took too long to come back so he got pissed off.

It was all so fucking depressing, she thought as she rubbed her arm over her sweater where he grabbed her and squeezed harshly. Why did she love him? Why did she stay every day after waking up and looking at that face? She wasn't even sure anymore. He was charming, funny, bold and brave. Matt had felt like a goofy knight from a kids book but then he grew angry, moody and possessive. He didn't care. Didn't try to stop her tonight when she stormed away, crying to drive her pain away. Just screamed at her bumper about how ‘she would regret leaving’ and ‘he’d be waiting for her to drag her ass home’.

Shakily, she dug through her purse, hands desperate for a familiar shape in the jumble. After a moment, she pulled out an orange pill container, little grey-blue pills that tasted of sick and medicine rattling inside. Taking two of the Xanax out, she threw them back and dry swallowed the nasty, bitter bits down. No matter how broke they were, these were still pretty cheap and almost necessary for living.

Lighting the last cigarette, she took a heavy drag and let her head fall back on the brick wall behind her. The stars were distant and cold tonight. They didn't care for this hollow in her soul where faith, hope and virtue used to reside. Suddenly, she wished she could reach them, touch their displacement. Do they love their loneliness as she loved her pain?

Softly Chenoa whispered a fragment of a song she knew. She couldn't remember where she heard it though.

"Eva flies away. Dreams the world far away. In this cruel children's game there's no friend to call her name," a shuddery sigh escaped her and she closed her heavy, cried-out eyes. Seemed like that song was written for her. How she longed to disappear and never feel this depression again. To sleep, that was what she wanted. To just fall asleep and never wake up.

It almost made her want to jump in front of the rickety bus that wheezed up. It hissed loudly like a coal and sank down, it's rattling doors sliding open. She wasn’t going to get up at first but after remembering the few crumpled dollars in her pocket, she decided that wandering the town for the night was better than what waited at home.

"Why not?" Chenoa huffed dully as she stood, tossing the butt on the ground. As she crushed the sparks to death with her boot toe, a strange tingling cold crept up her shins. At first she thought it was the spring frost crawling up her legs under her jeans, stealing the strength from the limbs.

Chenoa froze; listening for something she didn't know but wanted. Something…frightening and exhilarating. The greasy-faced bus driver with his pock-marked flabby cheeks was talking to her but it sounded like gibberish to her tuned ears.

A low moaning rustle grew and echoed down the dark street, growing louder. The bones in Chenoa's spine fused together at that as she stared down the empty street. Above and around she heard the new-grown leaves in the forlorn trees move in concert to the rushing wind, making the sound of a crashing wave. Every instinct in her burger-eating, coffee-fed, cigarette-sucking form screamed to run as fast as her legs could carry her. But she couldn't move. She couldn't think. Not of Matt, not of her truck or even the new bruises.

Dully, she noticed that the bus was sidling away. For a moment her attention delved into it as she watched the great mammoth of wires, rust and wheels. It sighed goodbye and turned the corner. Chenoa looked back down the street and the wind engulfed her in its teeth.

 

Birds. Chenoa heard thousands of birds singing, cackling and whooping above her in a cacophony of noise. It was beautiful, she laughed in her drowsy mind as she awoke. The second thing that came to her was the smell of earth. Rich, churned soil and wood smoke. It was a good and soulful smell.

"I'm dreaming," Chenoa murmured softly, her eyes still closed to the golden light outside of her. "He just hit me. I'm just asleep."

Contentedly, her hands slid about the ground beside her; leaves, soft grass, flakes of ashes that turned to silk under her touch. This dream felt so real. So calm and clean. There was no yelling, no people, no arguing or sirens. Real life was never this lovely.

Suddenly, Chenoa found herself eager to see this fantastic dream Matt's hands delivered her to. With a bit of a childish grin, she opened her eyes to the blinding sun light. It filtered down from the tops of the trees whose roofs she couldn't see. Sleepily, she smiled at the pretty, strange yellow and red birds that darted about the forest, clinging to the strange silver moss that grew in it.

A sharp pain stung the tip of Chenoa's finger when she shifted it next to her. She frowned lightly. Dreams don't hurt. Rolling her head to the side she looked at her limp hand lying on the dark green earth. Blood and a splinter. Real. It was real.

With a sharp gasp Chenoa sat up, cradling her hand as if it might fall off. What the hell?! Dreams are not supposed to really hurt! She wasn’t asleep, was she? Carefully she plucked the piece of sharp wood free, panic beginning to jump her nerves. Where was she?

"What the fuck?" Chenoa breathed, peering in the hard, golden light. The forest was huge, the gnarled trunks of the trees putting the ancient red woods to shame in their size. A large burned black circle of grass sprawled next to her, scalded and smoking sulkily. Several of them spotted the ground she realized as she stood on shaky legs.

As soon as she did, a wave of nauseous dizziness crippled her. What on earth was that? She couldn’t shake it. Then she remembered that she had taken a few Xanax before the wind got her. She remembered that now. They must still be in her system which means that she was not out for long. The drug made her head swim and her limbs heavy. It was the numbness that she often craved but now it just made everything surreal and frightening.

"Hello?! Hello!" Chenoa cried out in a sluggish, wild panic as her fear escalated quickly into hysterics. Where the hell was she?! No one but the startled birds answered her, screeching and flying in fright, leaving her in stifling silence. A tremor began racing in her hands as she found her purse nearby. As soon as her numb fingers grabbed the straps she dropped it from post-shock and medicine.

"Stop it now. Calm down," she reprimanded herself before taking several deep breaths. Again picking it up, Chenoa looked about. Her whole body rocked at its foundations at every movement. Nothing could be seen above or to either side: just trees and silver moss. Turning about towards the sun set, she found that there were wisps of smoke drifting lazily from that direction. Fire could mean people of some sort.

Trembling and jumping at each sound, the woman walked slowly through the trees, following a broad direction. The smoke steadily grew thicker and thicker, stinging her eyes and gagging her. Covering her mouth and nose, Chenoa kept her hand to a tree as she rounded it to find the source.

A large fire fumed and cackled in a clearing, licking up to the sky in hungering snaps. The heat of it forced her to step back as it warmed her face, tightening the skin. Billowing drafts of smoke danced about her and above, closing her in its vaporous embrace. Through it she could barely see a lone figure sitting by the flames, dangerously close. But something was strange about that person's form. Chenoa tried to peer closer, squinting her eyes but the smoke was acrid and stinging.

Some instinct clicked in her that something was wrong, unnatural. A jolt of icy fear shot down her belly despite the numbness and she turned to run away. Fuck this place!

A scream tore from her lips when she made the about-face. The only thing she saw was a broad chest, donned in a deep blue tunic and several regal sashes. That wasn't what scared the living shit out of her though. Chenoa looked up instinctively into a very different, familiar face.

It had a longish jaw with soft earth-brown lips that were smiling softly but that didn't register to her frightened mind. Under thoughtful, frowning brows were deep brown eyes, startled and reflective. Soft thick hair was mussed on its head was the color of warm honey. But it had two long ears like a fucking kangaroo!

Chenoa's mouth hung open after her scream and her hazel eyes widened. It tried to say something to her, its voice low and soothing but she couldn't understand. It was all so muffled and blurry and she couldn't understand.

All that she knew was that her eyes were rolling up to the dark of her skull and the world went black.

 


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