tarnished

[Tarnished]

I'll use you as a warning sign,
That if you talk enough sense, then you'll lose your mind.

I am everything.

It’s a fact.

I can transition from insect to beast at the drop of a hat; from wisps of mist to blocks of diamond; from one horse to another without so much as batting an eye. I can be whatever they need me to be— whoever they want me to be. The roles are easy and the women have proven themselves to be even easier to fool—willfully in denial, I suppose. But it doesn’t matter so long as I play my part right, says the Light.

There is no love in the children I have created, but I’m proud of them nonetheless.

Two of them were given life by means of violence, I keep one close while the Dreamweaver keeps the other one safe and hidden; two of them were given life for reasons beyond even my understanding, magic babes who needn’t so much as suckle from their mother’s teat to stay alive. I’ve kept tabs on the ones I can find and keep an eye out for the other. Nyxia is only let out of my sight long enough to visit the Playground and that’s where she happens to be now; a pretty little lavender girl that I’ve kept fat and full on doe milk, she’s been my everything ever since I found her. And how could she not be? I’ve had everything else taken away from me.

My brothers and sisters are gone.

I cannot find Dominion.

Mother no longer appears in my dreams.

Before I found my little daughter, I had been alone for the first time in my life.

And I found I didn’t like it.

I didn’t like the way Her voice was the only thing I heard when the silence crept in.

I look at her without realizing what I’m seeing; in fact, it’s only the shimmer of sunlight across her pitch black coat that catches my attention. I stare longer than I mean to, trying to put her face to a name—I’d spoken to her, once, back before I had been ripped apart and then stitched back together hundreds of times over. Before I’d gone on a fool’s errand and tried to save a kingdom that didn’t want to be saved. I tilt my head, following her with my eyes as she makes her way across the meadow; she probably doesn’t remember me, but I certainly remember her.

It might not seem like it, but mother trained me well and I have every bit of grace as the jungle cats—I just don’t want to startle the poor girl by creeping up behind her, so I pretend to be clumsy and I make as much noise as possible. I don’t want to hurt this one, I don’t want to make it seem like I am hunting her—though the thought, as always, crosses my mind. Always. But it’s just a thought—a fleeting one. I even snort to announce my presence, grinning as cheekily as the first day she met me; as if nothing has happened, as if nothing is wrong.

Everything is wrong.

I am… wrong.

“It’s been a while.”

TARNISHED

( Talk some sense to me )