[ Respond | Andarin: The Mountains ]
Posted by - nieve on March 22, 2009, 6:05 pm, in reply to "a pale princess of a palace cracked -"
172.162.76.138
Nieve notices with a start that there is something curled on Nicodemus's back, and she stares blankly at the creature, unable to understand why it was in pain.
She stares, confused and a little afraid - not of him, of Andraste, but of everything she doesn't know. But suddenly, she understands, because in her mind the Seed is showing her the endless cycle of pain and despair that was the Legend, that was their home. When he tells her she's strong, she shakes her head in mute denial, but clings to those words just the same; they will be her lifeline in the days to come.
The childmare sees the tears and wonders why, but as he speaks, the picture broadens and she see, with Clarity. And suddenly, the niggling fears at the back of her mind grow teeth and claws, roaring savagely through her mind and clamping fiercely down on her heartstrings. She doesn't see what he sees, his family, because really, she has none but for Hesper and Lycoris (and in her naivety thinks she alone can protect them), but she can taste the fear riding her winds and her blood runs cold.
“No,”she says, denying it, but it's spoken in the voice of one who knows the true answer and hopes it will be wrong anyway. “The Element can't end,” she half-whispers, “it's all I've got. I've got nothing left but these mountains.” In her youth, she understands pain (understands it as her chest is ripped open yet again, hearing the quiver in his voice) and in her youth, too, she is selfish and for once doesn't berate herself for it, because she knows that many of the other horses here would - will - feel the same.
“I don't know how to face them,” she says then, sudden terror in her eyes; to her, the Keepers are figments of nightmare and Hell, creatures only spoken of in dark, dark whispers. “The Seed is my legacy,” she continues, her voice rising child-high with fear, “but I don't know how to use it, or what it does, or anything. I don't know the first thing about being a Guardian, or even where to find the others, or who they are.”
There abject horror in her eyes, because she realizes for the first time just how badly she erred in remaining cold and quiet in her shell, afraid to rejoin the herd she lives among because she was afraid of getting too close. Failure tastes bittersweet in her mouth, because though she doesn't know the nameless masses of those she roams among, these nameless wolves are her pack, and she will fail them.
“I believe you,” she says, because she can sense his despair and because it scared her more than these Keepers of the darkness her winds tell her of, because she knows he'll make it true despite the costs and she's afraid of losing him, too. “I'll try,”she says, forcing the doubt from her voice and making it strong, though it wavers a little. “I've got no other choice, though, do I?”
and barely conscious, you'll say to no one,
"isn't something missing?"
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