[private] what we owe to each other

[Beyza]

B E Y Z A

remember me when i’m reborn as a shrike

It does not even occur to Beyza to be wary of the fog after their trek through it in the afterlife. It did not end so terribly for her, after all. And it feels right to be reunited in obscurity once more.

Her voice has not yet returned to her - despite her attempts to heal it with magic - so instead she pushes thoughts out to him “Jamie.” His name is said with more familiarity, more affection than it would have been before they had died. 

“It won’t harm you.” She speaks of the fog, her thoughts calm though there’s a particular thrill sparking like electricity through her too. Beyza thinks she can see it, even now - see the face of Death lurking beneath those yellow eyes. It makes so much sense that she does not even question it. Of course Anaxarete of the shadows would birth the grim reaper in a flesh form, of course the vampire Livinia would have Death as a brother, of course it would be dangerous for him to reveal himself and to lose the tethers of his pain.

But dangerous no longer seems like a bad thing, and now she feels even more like she was in the right to want to take those shackles off and set him free.

“I saw you, in that other fog. Saw what you keep hidden.” A gliding step forward is taken, her eyes focused on him and nothing else. “You’re magnificent.”