09-07-2021, 02:03 PM
all of time and space, everywhere and anywhere, every star that ever was
The mare dies and she feels a sense of suffocating loss that tastes familiar, oh yes, she’s tasted it before. Failure. He loots the lilac mare’s body of her magic and she can only stand there despite the fact that he had released her bones and she is free to use her body again. As his mane and tail begin to match the clouds in the sky, she can only stare at the lifeless dull eyes that stare unseeing into the forest where she had originally appeared, alive and well. Was she in that dark place now where she had once been? That endless emptiness of hollow death?
She is not ready for him when he steps close to her. She is not ready for the excruciating pain that rips through her chest, invisible to the naked eye but something she can feel sharp and hot as he inserts his shadows into a magical gaping wound that leads to the fiber of her very being. There lays the anger that he had produced with her death and he pushes that brightness wrapped in the smoky covering of his darkness and the electrical current of his power (Lightning Boy. She had once called him Lighting Boy.) deep within her until it settles right in the eye of the swirling inferno of her rage.
She moans low as her vision blurs and she arches her neck, gritting against the thing he places inside of her. With it comes a memory, at first she thinks the glimpse of white she catches is the mare who had followed her to the Isle but no… It’s a different white mare. One she had forgotten about. Mazikeen who also looked very different from when she had first met her on the shores of the lake. And despite the shock that strikes at her insides, she briefly feels a flicker of what that brightness is before it disappears into the tornado of her ire. Happiness.
When she finally opens her eyes again and the pain momentarily subsides, she catches the lilac mare fleeing. Fleeing. Alive. She is still ravaged and open before him as her trembling limbs brace against the fresh wave of pain but her gaze never wavers from his as he reaches back into her and mends those magical wounds. Stitches her up. Again. He raises a brow at her and smiles.
She hopes he is disturbed by the wild smile she gives back, something wolfish and knowing as her starlit eyes glimmer back into his electric ones. For not only had he at least given the lilac mare a second chance just to prove her wrong, he had placed hope in her chest. Unintentional, she was sure, but the taste of happiness still lingers faintly around the rapidly fading vision and the unbending storm of her wrath and she thinks she has a spark of an idea of what might be the key to unlocking Gale’s misfortune. How could she have been so blind before, it had always been there. Right in front of them. “Thank you.” She breathes to him, her eyes sparkling with mostly pain and a small hint of triumph.
She is not ready for him when he steps close to her. She is not ready for the excruciating pain that rips through her chest, invisible to the naked eye but something she can feel sharp and hot as he inserts his shadows into a magical gaping wound that leads to the fiber of her very being. There lays the anger that he had produced with her death and he pushes that brightness wrapped in the smoky covering of his darkness and the electrical current of his power (Lightning Boy. She had once called him Lighting Boy.) deep within her until it settles right in the eye of the swirling inferno of her rage.
She moans low as her vision blurs and she arches her neck, gritting against the thing he places inside of her. With it comes a memory, at first she thinks the glimpse of white she catches is the mare who had followed her to the Isle but no… It’s a different white mare. One she had forgotten about. Mazikeen who also looked very different from when she had first met her on the shores of the lake. And despite the shock that strikes at her insides, she briefly feels a flicker of what that brightness is before it disappears into the tornado of her ire. Happiness.
When she finally opens her eyes again and the pain momentarily subsides, she catches the lilac mare fleeing. Fleeing. Alive. She is still ravaged and open before him as her trembling limbs brace against the fresh wave of pain but her gaze never wavers from his as he reaches back into her and mends those magical wounds. Stitches her up. Again. He raises a brow at her and smiles.
She hopes he is disturbed by the wild smile she gives back, something wolfish and knowing as her starlit eyes glimmer back into his electric ones. For not only had he at least given the lilac mare a second chance just to prove her wrong, he had placed hope in her chest. Unintentional, she was sure, but the taste of happiness still lingers faintly around the rapidly fading vision and the unbending storm of her wrath and she thinks she has a spark of an idea of what might be the key to unlocking Gale’s misfortune. How could she have been so blind before, it had always been there. Right in front of them. “Thank you.” She breathes to him, her eyes sparkling with mostly pain and a small hint of triumph.
-- Ciri
@
Gale