10-04-2020, 07:23 PM
Leliana and Isilya had assured her that Crowns would be fine, even if he didn’t seem well now. They had promised and she trusted them, but her heart aches to see him laying so pitifully in their den. His fever refuses to break despite how often she guides him to the stream to soak for a while. Even now, as he naps, he wimpers and groans in his sleep. Sabbath can feel the tears brimming in her wild green eyes but she chokes them back once more. Now is not the time to cry.
She presses a whisper of a kiss to his temple and then she leaves their quiet corner of the jungle. The shoreline isn’t too far from here, she thinks. Just a quick trip there and back. The serpent woman rushes between the trees until she finds the water’s edge, where she calls for him.
“Varick, please. It’s Crowns,” she pleads, her voice tired and desperate.
The magicians of Tephra are wise, she knows, but they do not share in her pain so intimately. They can’t quite know how lost and helpless she feels as the small boy tosses and turns in his fitful slumber. Varick, however, would know the tempest raging in her heart. And when he emerges from the waves, she surprises herself at the way she collapses against his chest so easily. All the tears she had bitten back before come spilling down her face now as she sobs into his frost-covered scales.
“He’s sick, Varick. He keeps running a fever and nothing helps,” she explains, each word weighed down with her sorrow. “I don’t know what to do. Just.. Stay with me. Until I know he’s alright.”
And then she steps back from him, her body half turned in the direction of her den. She feels naked as she stands there, unguarded by her rage with nothing but that soft heart to show. How long has it been since she let down those walls for even a second? It had taken a lifetime to build them but she tore them to pieces in a heartbeat in her desperation to help her child.
She presses a whisper of a kiss to his temple and then she leaves their quiet corner of the jungle. The shoreline isn’t too far from here, she thinks. Just a quick trip there and back. The serpent woman rushes between the trees until she finds the water’s edge, where she calls for him.
“Varick, please. It’s Crowns,” she pleads, her voice tired and desperate.
The magicians of Tephra are wise, she knows, but they do not share in her pain so intimately. They can’t quite know how lost and helpless she feels as the small boy tosses and turns in his fitful slumber. Varick, however, would know the tempest raging in her heart. And when he emerges from the waves, she surprises herself at the way she collapses against his chest so easily. All the tears she had bitten back before come spilling down her face now as she sobs into his frost-covered scales.
“He’s sick, Varick. He keeps running a fever and nothing helps,” she explains, each word weighed down with her sorrow. “I don’t know what to do. Just.. Stay with me. Until I know he’s alright.”
And then she steps back from him, her body half turned in the direction of her den. She feels naked as she stands there, unguarded by her rage with nothing but that soft heart to show. How long has it been since she let down those walls for even a second? It had taken a lifetime to build them but she tore them to pieces in a heartbeat in her desperation to help her child.
may my enemies live long so they can see me prosper.
sabbath