jamie
10-24-2025, 09:41 PM
jamie
Before there had been anything else, there had been her.
Before the fog, before the smoke, before the darkness.
There had once only been Livinia, his beloved sister.
Something calls to him now. There is something in the rattling of bones that beckons him. The ghosts bend close to murmur in his ear. Livinia, Livinia, Livinia, they chant. And he follows them to the meadow and there she stands.
For a moment, he merely studies her. This is not the first time he’s seen her since the darkness had descended over the world and left them all aimless, frightened. But it has been so many terrible years since then. So many awful, lonesome years.
He has wondered, of course, what became of his beloved sister. Had often thought to send some winged thing after her but had instead chosen to respect her need to be gone. And here she is.
Or so it appears.
There are things in this world darker than him. He wonders, briefly, if Beyza might have created the illusion, knowing he might be drawn to it. Because they are no longer friends, the shrike and the reaper. Because they have not been for a long time.
He dips his ugly head and closes those terrible eyes, searching the surrounding woods for a hare. Nearby, there is a corpse and he calls it to him. It stumbles past him, then, as he sends it in her direction. A gift, perhaps. He opens his eyes and presses a message into her mind without opening his mouth.
‘Welcome home, sister.’
Before the fog, before the smoke, before the darkness.
There had once only been Livinia, his beloved sister.
Something calls to him now. There is something in the rattling of bones that beckons him. The ghosts bend close to murmur in his ear. Livinia, Livinia, Livinia, they chant. And he follows them to the meadow and there she stands.
For a moment, he merely studies her. This is not the first time he’s seen her since the darkness had descended over the world and left them all aimless, frightened. But it has been so many terrible years since then. So many awful, lonesome years.
He has wondered, of course, what became of his beloved sister. Had often thought to send some winged thing after her but had instead chosen to respect her need to be gone. And here she is.
Or so it appears.
There are things in this world darker than him. He wonders, briefly, if Beyza might have created the illusion, knowing he might be drawn to it. Because they are no longer friends, the shrike and the reaper. Because they have not been for a long time.
He dips his ugly head and closes those terrible eyes, searching the surrounding woods for a hare. Nearby, there is a corpse and he calls it to him. It stumbles past him, then, as he sends it in her direction. A gift, perhaps. He opens his eyes and presses a message into her mind without opening his mouth.
‘Welcome home, sister.’
so darkness i became
