04-05-2022, 02:55 PM
all things are poisons
for there is nothing without poisonous qualities.
I had been there when my mother tried to resurrect the Chamber that she talked so fondly about. The residents of Pangea threw a hissy fit, the old residents of the Chamber decided it wasn’t good enough. To me, a girl who has never loved a land or seen any reason to love a land, none of it made any sense. Was it not just a place to rest your weary bones? A place that you could return to and know you wouldn’t be shunned from its borders? Did it matter what it looked like?
Of course, as a child of this Beqanna, I have no way of knowing what the old lands were like. My mother told me stories, but they were only stories and though she did not lie about anything, I never entirely believed her either. A heart buried beneath the ground? A flaming prophecy tree? They are not far fetched, necessarily…but still. I have my doubts.
Or maybe they aren’t even doubts. Maybe I just don’t care. Maybe it’s just not my cup of tea.
No, I come and go as a please, as much a ghost as the ones I hear all around me. The day has not even truly dawned when I begin to move, slipping through the fog that I don’t blend into. Still, I move like a wraith - quiet and watchful. The real wraiths chatter around me, trying to grab my attention. I ignore them, though I take a moment to stop and listen to them now and again. Over the years I have grown used to their noise and can, should I choose, tune them out. I generally choose not too though. Never know what they might say.
Eventually, as the fog is beginning to lift, I stumble upon another living soul. A stallion, black and white. The chittering ghosts grow quiet now besides their whispered warnings. They can only know what they have seen of him as he’s been here, unless one of them happens to know him from some lifetime past, but I’ve come to learn that the ghosts are good judges of character. They do not trust him. I smile at this. ”Hello,” I say, having never been good at small talk or icebreakers. ”Lovely morning, isn’t it?” My smile and tone are just a bit sarcastic. It’s cold and damp and not exactly lovely, but I’ve seen far worse. Also, I did mention that small talk and icebreakers are not my thing, right?
Of course, as a child of this Beqanna, I have no way of knowing what the old lands were like. My mother told me stories, but they were only stories and though she did not lie about anything, I never entirely believed her either. A heart buried beneath the ground? A flaming prophecy tree? They are not far fetched, necessarily…but still. I have my doubts.
Or maybe they aren’t even doubts. Maybe I just don’t care. Maybe it’s just not my cup of tea.
No, I come and go as a please, as much a ghost as the ones I hear all around me. The day has not even truly dawned when I begin to move, slipping through the fog that I don’t blend into. Still, I move like a wraith - quiet and watchful. The real wraiths chatter around me, trying to grab my attention. I ignore them, though I take a moment to stop and listen to them now and again. Over the years I have grown used to their noise and can, should I choose, tune them out. I generally choose not too though. Never know what they might say.
Eventually, as the fog is beginning to lift, I stumble upon another living soul. A stallion, black and white. The chittering ghosts grow quiet now besides their whispered warnings. They can only know what they have seen of him as he’s been here, unless one of them happens to know him from some lifetime past, but I’ve come to learn that the ghosts are good judges of character. They do not trust him. I smile at this. ”Hello,” I say, having never been good at small talk or icebreakers. ”Lovely morning, isn’t it?” My smile and tone are just a bit sarcastic. It’s cold and damp and not exactly lovely, but I’ve seen far worse. Also, I did mention that small talk and icebreakers are not my thing, right?
it is only the dose that matters
iris
@
Set