Iola2008-10-08 13:06:36
My apologies to the characters in question for not seeking their permission before writing this, but having followed it on the event scrolls and a little IG, I got struck with inspiriation and wanted to make it something of a surprise. I hope you enjoy.
The world blurs; I crack, stiff boards of melancholy piercing nape to foot, my grip on all things roughly shattered. I am awake and dreaming, asleep and speaking, all things I should not be. Her smiling face dances dizzying patterns in my spleen. I turn on my head but still the forest shines downside-up. Where have you gone, wandering fae, what paths have you followed that cannot be taken? Light I step, clip clop, flash of autumn wings and ashen hair. The thousands of eyes that surround me see nothing, only tiny, tiny girl, twirl your ribbon in your hair and dance as if the Moon still shone as loudly as ever. You shall not hear the distant drums that harken with his voice, terrible and beautiful all in a moment, tearing you away and apart into pieces even smaller than your own shaking breath. Of the Others you shall know not, whilst I feel His frozen hand brush at my hair as if I longed for his touch.
Into my soul they see, deep, and I fear what they know. All three, my triumvirate of death and decay, all that I wished for and may not have. To my home I cling, to my duty I abide, to His words I listen not: they are poison. I love Her, I love Her, I love Her. I break, and the Basin spirals around me as if all the planes had come together at once, as if I had spent a thousand days on the Astral plane, as if each petal had been torn to shreds by my traitorous hands. I tear them one by one, their soft and moulding flesh as weak as my damned spirit. He watches, he knows. I watch the trickling threads and wish with all my heart that She had let me go. I should not have lived, should have been taken by Him, then all this would have been over and –
The voices shall never leave me, even Hers, soft and understanding and always seeing, always knowing what I have done. What I feel. I am a servant of the great Nature spirits, of Mother Moon and Brother Hart, I am a devoted student of the ways of the Great Alliance and…and…
…and I cannot lie. Silver feathers fall. I run through the planes, leap into Aetherspace and feel the ecstasy as my mind and body are pulled apart, only to see the Fates frown down upon my frail mortal form. I leap from the Moondance tower, bury myself in the Falls, and still I return. I am damned to this sorrow. I shall know only pain. I am a walking lie, a falsehood through which only my triumvirate see, and their gazes pierce me with every gasping breath. Terror takes me and I watch as my brother and sisters in Ellindel’s embrace flee from my side, silver light fading even as I clutch at them. I watch myself from afar as my hands grab for them, yanking at flesh and wing and clawing like a fiend. Their silvery blood mingles across my palm with my tears, a whole galaxy of death entwining with my lifeline.
I spin and turn through the aether, floating, lost.
Then a hand, determined and strong, reaches out to me. Do not save me. I am not worthy. I deserve nothing. I deserve to be lost. My eyes are screwed shut and I curl to my smallest and still the hand clasps my wrist, tugging me, pulling me, tearing me like petals screaming in dirgesong. Myrkr. Come back to me. You do not need to bear this weight alone. There is pain, and we do grieve; but you can know the truth of the Black Sorrow. I shall take you. Come with me. You shall be safe. You shall be loved.
I open my eyes and see darkness. Before me lie a million tiny pieces, joined by ethereal threads that seem impossibly tangled. I blink, confused, as they begin to unravel themselves. A voice, low and familiar, sings a tune I do not know. Piece by piece I see red, gold, brown knit together. A jittering tune fills the air. White and pink become a hand. Shades of autumn a wing. Red lips. Watery eyes. I see myself, whole, a million thin lines across my form the only evidence of weakness. A jolt and I shall shatter again. Cold hands run down my cheek, and I feel air rush into my lungs.
My eyes open.
My eyes open.
I see
IseeIseeIseeIseeIsee
A scar knits, one little line heals
Still the refrain
Come back to me
I reach out and take the hand Fate has dealt me. I reach out and take the hand They have dealt me. I reach out and take your hand.
Yes
Yes this can
Yes this can be home.
For the first time I smile, and Mother Night wraps me in Her embrace with every gentle stroke of your touch. Somewhere I know They are watching. For now I am alive.
The world blurs; I crack, stiff boards of melancholy piercing nape to foot, my grip on all things roughly shattered. I am awake and dreaming, asleep and speaking, all things I should not be. Her smiling face dances dizzying patterns in my spleen. I turn on my head but still the forest shines downside-up. Where have you gone, wandering fae, what paths have you followed that cannot be taken? Light I step, clip clop, flash of autumn wings and ashen hair. The thousands of eyes that surround me see nothing, only tiny, tiny girl, twirl your ribbon in your hair and dance as if the Moon still shone as loudly as ever. You shall not hear the distant drums that harken with his voice, terrible and beautiful all in a moment, tearing you away and apart into pieces even smaller than your own shaking breath. Of the Others you shall know not, whilst I feel His frozen hand brush at my hair as if I longed for his touch.
Into my soul they see, deep, and I fear what they know. All three, my triumvirate of death and decay, all that I wished for and may not have. To my home I cling, to my duty I abide, to His words I listen not: they are poison. I love Her, I love Her, I love Her. I break, and the Basin spirals around me as if all the planes had come together at once, as if I had spent a thousand days on the Astral plane, as if each petal had been torn to shreds by my traitorous hands. I tear them one by one, their soft and moulding flesh as weak as my damned spirit. He watches, he knows. I watch the trickling threads and wish with all my heart that She had let me go. I should not have lived, should have been taken by Him, then all this would have been over and –
The voices shall never leave me, even Hers, soft and understanding and always seeing, always knowing what I have done. What I feel. I am a servant of the great Nature spirits, of Mother Moon and Brother Hart, I am a devoted student of the ways of the Great Alliance and…and…
…and I cannot lie. Silver feathers fall. I run through the planes, leap into Aetherspace and feel the ecstasy as my mind and body are pulled apart, only to see the Fates frown down upon my frail mortal form. I leap from the Moondance tower, bury myself in the Falls, and still I return. I am damned to this sorrow. I shall know only pain. I am a walking lie, a falsehood through which only my triumvirate see, and their gazes pierce me with every gasping breath. Terror takes me and I watch as my brother and sisters in Ellindel’s embrace flee from my side, silver light fading even as I clutch at them. I watch myself from afar as my hands grab for them, yanking at flesh and wing and clawing like a fiend. Their silvery blood mingles across my palm with my tears, a whole galaxy of death entwining with my lifeline.
I spin and turn through the aether, floating, lost.
Then a hand, determined and strong, reaches out to me. Do not save me. I am not worthy. I deserve nothing. I deserve to be lost. My eyes are screwed shut and I curl to my smallest and still the hand clasps my wrist, tugging me, pulling me, tearing me like petals screaming in dirgesong. Myrkr. Come back to me. You do not need to bear this weight alone. There is pain, and we do grieve; but you can know the truth of the Black Sorrow. I shall take you. Come with me. You shall be safe. You shall be loved.
I open my eyes and see darkness. Before me lie a million tiny pieces, joined by ethereal threads that seem impossibly tangled. I blink, confused, as they begin to unravel themselves. A voice, low and familiar, sings a tune I do not know. Piece by piece I see red, gold, brown knit together. A jittering tune fills the air. White and pink become a hand. Shades of autumn a wing. Red lips. Watery eyes. I see myself, whole, a million thin lines across my form the only evidence of weakness. A jolt and I shall shatter again. Cold hands run down my cheek, and I feel air rush into my lungs.
My eyes open.
My eyes open.
I see
IseeIseeIseeIseeIsee
A scar knits, one little line heals
Still the refrain
Come back to me
I reach out and take the hand Fate has dealt me. I reach out and take the hand They have dealt me. I reach out and take your hand.
Yes
Yes this can
Yes this can be home.
For the first time I smile, and Mother Night wraps me in Her embrace with every gentle stroke of your touch. Somewhere I know They are watching. For now I am alive.
