10-12-2016, 01:44 PM
The bats have left the bell tower
The victims have been bled
The Reckoning took everything from me. My lover, my child. I exist as a ghost but not a ghost. I can no longer take shelter in the cold embrace of mist and shadows. But the relentless spirits seemed to have slid behind the silver of my eyes. I can no longer see half eaten faces covered with dirt and rot, my ears no longer hear their hollow whispers crying for help with pleading eye sockets.
I am free from their torture. This what it must like to be normal.
As I step forward to meet the call of the women, I am unafraid and daring in the sleek black of my skin. I meet their gazes as each speak in turn and I listen carefully because I am very good at being quiet. They all speak. A pretty spotted woman, a fetching paint, a bay mare who smells familiar but not familiar...some how darker but finally all question and chatter cease when Naga emerges.
I know this name because we share so much without words. The tapered points of my ears are forward and keen. I was unable to muster the strength of my words before but now I can feel them hot and searing in my throat. "Spiritual caste." I speak under my breath. If there were a place in the world for me it is that. It is hard to admit I can no longer speak to the dead for the Reckoning took that from me but I can regain it. I can once more be useful. My empty womb that once held my daughter aches with it's yearn for purpose. My heart follows suit to belong. Hesitantly, I step forward as tribute.
"I, Graveside, volunteer." This is the first time in my life I have felt like I existed. I am no a ghost. I am not dead. I am a horse just like the ones to my left and right. Until today, I was nothing more than a name but now I am a member of this tribe. They do not know me but I know all about the Amazons and their queen, Naga. I have spent much time drifting in their darkest reaches in my ghost form, prying open the little secrets and learning their ways...initiations...traditions. I have spoken with some of their dead and listen to the tales of forgotten women. I am not a spy nor a peeping trespasser with ogling eyes. They intrigue me.
It has felt like ages since I was intrigued.
I am free from their torture. This what it must like to be normal.
As I step forward to meet the call of the women, I am unafraid and daring in the sleek black of my skin. I meet their gazes as each speak in turn and I listen carefully because I am very good at being quiet. They all speak. A pretty spotted woman, a fetching paint, a bay mare who smells familiar but not familiar...some how darker but finally all question and chatter cease when Naga emerges.
I know this name because we share so much without words. The tapered points of my ears are forward and keen. I was unable to muster the strength of my words before but now I can feel them hot and searing in my throat. "Spiritual caste." I speak under my breath. If there were a place in the world for me it is that. It is hard to admit I can no longer speak to the dead for the Reckoning took that from me but I can regain it. I can once more be useful. My empty womb that once held my daughter aches with it's yearn for purpose. My heart follows suit to belong. Hesitantly, I step forward as tribute.
"I, Graveside, volunteer." This is the first time in my life I have felt like I existed. I am no a ghost. I am not dead. I am a horse just like the ones to my left and right. Until today, I was nothing more than a name but now I am a member of this tribe. They do not know me but I know all about the Amazons and their queen, Naga. I have spent much time drifting in their darkest reaches in my ghost form, prying open the little secrets and learning their ways...initiations...traditions. I have spoken with some of their dead and listen to the tales of forgotten women. I am not a spy nor a peeping trespasser with ogling eyes. They intrigue me.
It has felt like ages since I was intrigued.
graveside
((sorry she's a new face and getting to know everyone but this is a great idea! I love the idea of a spiritual caste!))