there is no point in asking why, because it's over [anyone] -
Posted by - n i e v i a n on February 26, 2009, 11:30 pm
172.164.184.70
- It's ironic; she's gone for weeks, even months, and then suddenly, without warning, she reappears - Nievian, the quiet butterfly child with so many scars on her heart. Rumors will spread, saying she left like her mother, but unlike innocent Renata, Nieve returns - it is here, here that she belongs. Rumors will spread, but only if someone realized she had left at all. Perhaps, if anyone even knew she was alive, they thought that she had simply hidden for a while. They may never know the truth; she wonders if she would - could - ever speak again.
- The child left, found the only thing that could ever fill that void, and then lost him soon after admitting that she needed someone, something.
- Irony, it seems, works in cruel and mysterious ways. The child left, had her emptiness filled, and now returns with a whole in her chest bigger than the one she left with. It is here that her fate calls her with a siren's lips, singing taunting songs with an edge of malice and mocking, calls her from staring at the broken bodies on the ground, from the horrors she found outside of Legend. She left, thinking to find herself - to find something to fill that void inside her heart left by a mother who was little more than a child herself, from family who up and left with a without a word. Perhaps all that matters is that she's back, back with her Relic that refused to actually leave Legend's borders but waited for her, faithfully, with any and all power she imagined she had.
- In her own foolishness, she revels; how faithfully she believed the lies that Nacht fed her, how faithfully she believed His promises that He would never leave her - a lot of good those words did, seeing as how he was lying among the stones of her Earth, surrounded by flies and the stench of rot, his body bent and broken with claw marks. In her own foolishness, wallowing in pity, she steals back into Andarin as if she had never left (and if her Relic sighs, just a little - it is so good to be home! - she pays it no heed). Perhaps Lycoris, or Wicked, or Nicodemus, will notice she'd gone. Perhaps one of them, even, would have cared, just a little.
- Nievian, with her mane a tangled nest of vines and silver strands that mark her Wind, with her deep, deep eyes a peculiar shade of blue-grey mostly attributed to stormy seas or cloudy skies, she skirts the forests of her Mountains, looking for one of the few familiar faces of those she once knew. She knows now that no one is coming back for her, knows that she is alone, and this, strangely, relieves her. She doesn't know that she is the last remaining member of a family that stretched over land upon land, that she is the sole survivor of a clan that was once huge; all she knows is that she is alone. There is no one but her, now. It is ironic, and she laughs because of it - she had been alone since the day she was born.
- And vaguely, she wonders - hopes - that she was missed.
- But she, oh - she laughs until she cries, the child, and when she weeps, there is no one there to comfort her.
(and don't deny your life's a living hell,
you're a shadow of your own self.) | |
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