02-20-2018, 01:00 PM
It's so easy to become lost in the machinations and intrigues of life. To forget everything beyond the well laid path she has worked and plotted towards. To take the pain in her heart and harden it to a laser focus, an intensity that would allow for nothing but the culmination of her deepest held desires. It is difficult to remember at times that life, real life, awaits her outside the boundaries of her closely held fever.
But sometimes, one simply needs to take a moment to breathe. To recall that life is more than just a few moments of heartache and unmatched resolve.
It is during one of these moments of clarity that she halts a moment, forgoing the sight she wields so frequently. As her surroundings come into focus, she realizes she had lost far more time than she had anticipated. She had allowed her determination to cloud her judgement until her feet had carried her far, carried her to place she has not stood in ages.
It takes her moment to recognize the place. The small glen tucked away inside the deepest depths of the forest. Exhaling sharply, the mottled blue and white mare allows her gaze (her true sight) to trace branches stretching into gnarled oblivion. They clutch desperately to the last of their few leaves, unwilling to give them up to the encroaching fingers of winter.
She can sympathize with those trees. Sometimes, now especially, the ashen depths of her soul feels as though it is clutching desperately to the last traces of decency left to her. She has never been a kind-hearted creature, but life seems to have a way of stripping all virtue even from the most pious. She had been an easy target.
For just a small span of time, she can lose herself in the secluded serenity of this place. Can pretend that she will not return, will not give up her last vestiges of empathy and mercy to achieve her aims. Can pretend that she is still young, the world at her feet, and her twin (her other half) warm and comforting at her side.
But sometimes, one simply needs to take a moment to breathe. To recall that life is more than just a few moments of heartache and unmatched resolve.
It is during one of these moments of clarity that she halts a moment, forgoing the sight she wields so frequently. As her surroundings come into focus, she realizes she had lost far more time than she had anticipated. She had allowed her determination to cloud her judgement until her feet had carried her far, carried her to place she has not stood in ages.
It takes her moment to recognize the place. The small glen tucked away inside the deepest depths of the forest. Exhaling sharply, the mottled blue and white mare allows her gaze (her true sight) to trace branches stretching into gnarled oblivion. They clutch desperately to the last of their few leaves, unwilling to give them up to the encroaching fingers of winter.
She can sympathize with those trees. Sometimes, now especially, the ashen depths of her soul feels as though it is clutching desperately to the last traces of decency left to her. She has never been a kind-hearted creature, but life seems to have a way of stripping all virtue even from the most pious. She had been an easy target.
For just a small span of time, she can lose herself in the secluded serenity of this place. Can pretend that she will not return, will not give up her last vestiges of empathy and mercy to achieve her aims. Can pretend that she is still young, the world at her feet, and her twin (her other half) warm and comforting at her side.
I see your sins
Heartfire
and I want to set them free.
@[Illum]