a pocket full of posies; new babies

[Zella]

I love you as certain dark things are to be loved;
In secret, between the shadow and the soul.

Trivial things can make the world seem like it’s ending…

She didn’t want to go, she didn’t want to leave all their friends behind—she pled through her hot tears and when pleading did not work, she said things out of anger that she did not mean; hateful, hurtful things that made their mother cry and their father furious. She thought they deserved it; if it was so dangerous, why wouldn’t they tell them what was going on? Why wouldn’t the adults tell them what they were so afraid of? It wasn’t fair.

The only one that wasn’t afraid was Bastion, he rallied the soldiers and led an army straight up the tall mountain (despite his father, their old general, begging him not to). The weather was wicked that night; snow seemingly fell by the pound, it was a blizzard unlike anything they had ever seen and still Bastion continued to march right on to fight the unknown foe—

Bastion was not like his father.
Bastion was stupid.
Bastion woke them.
Bastion was the first to die.

Zella was the one that found his head in the snow. She screamed until her throat was raw, until her parents and the other adults came running to chase down whatever assailant was hurting her; Bastion’s father buckled and cried like a baby—after all, Bastion’s mother had died in the spring and now the old man had no family he could claim. She thought that was the worst thing in the world, to have no one left to love.

Screams and cries made their rounds through the crowd as the reality of what happened sunk in; the relatives of the soldiers were the worst, she would never forget the way they sobbed. The others? The others were even more afraid now, because Bastion had woke them and now they were hunting; the army was the first to go, but it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

They tried to flee.

Zella and Zola’s parents headed south while the others went west—south, their father said, where it was warm and where ice dragons did not dare tread.

They almost made it.

Zella would never forget the look on her mother’s face—frozen solid, stopped dead in her tracks, she looked so sad and afraid. Her body shattered when the dragon landed, the ground shaking beneath the sudden drop of its weight; eyes wide, her heart hammering wildly against her small chest, she nudged Zola roughly and kept mouthing the word ‘go.’ They ran, while the beast stayed behind and feasted on the icy remains of their mother and father in the snow.

Until the real ending is staring you right in the face with a mouthful of teeth.

She was gaunt and cold, tired and sick; meandering through the Playground earned her the concerned look of a fairy who made a mental note to tend to her later—you know, once she had settled in. She didn’t see the trees that rose up all around them, she didn’t hear the children laughing and playing; she saw a vast frozen wasteland and heard everyone screaming, heard them screaming while they were frozen or ripped apart and—

Zella blinked, brought out of her stupor when she accidentally bumped her shoulder against her sister’s; she shivered, purposely leaning against her twin for support while they continued trudging through the snow—at least, until the little red dun girl came crashing into the big ol’ bay.

And the rest, well, it would be history.

“Are you okay?” Zella called out to them softly, hesitant to come any closer than they already had.

[Sorry for whatever this is, it'll get better. <3]

@[Elle Belle] @[Kristin]