12-12-2017, 05:49 PM
Don't say I'm out of touch with this rampant chaos; your reality.
I know well what lies beyond my sleeping refuge.
I know well what lies beyond my sleeping refuge.
The volcanic island had never been hers.
She never felt in her blood; she never felt it as anything more than a burden – it had been meant for one other, and only one other, and his return filled her heart with both glee and relief. It was not that she could not handle the pressure, nor that she could not withstand the criticism and difficulties that came with the invisible crown. It simply belonged to someone else; it was never her fate to carry Tephra as her own. She protected it, and fiercely guarded it, always prepared to be the backbone in the face of adversity or to be the strength when she was needed to be – but she never envisioned peace, tranquility, and sanctum. Not as Magnus did, nor as Offspring did.
Not as Warrick does.
And so she emerges beneath the warmth of the falling sun, slowly eclipsed by the distant horizon, as if it were being swallowed whole by the sea. The pristine ivory of her preenly kept feathers flutter lightly in the sea-born breeze, stirring a shiver down the length of her spine as her gilded legs carry her to a hillcrest, where she can see the swaying grain and tropical foliage blooming before her. She is quiet and contemplative for a long moment, knowing what change lay before Tephra – and knowing what change lay before her, for Dahmer. With a deep and lingering breath exhaled at last, her voice bellows out over the grassland, calling all that dwell within and call the volcano their beacon and the island their domicile.
She is patient, awaiting their presence, her gaze heavy and lingering on Warrick –
The true Overseer; the truest she had ever or would ever know.
”Tephrans,” she begins, but she is not one for eloquence and refined speech. So often, she would prefer to cut through and get to the point of the matter, but there is an electricity to the air that causes her to take pause. To linger, and to absorb the moment. Warrick deserved the glory of the memory. ”as promised, the time has come to pass Overseer to an individual most deserving. Warrick has returned to us, and thus, the leadership is his, and he will carry Tephra into future days. Give him your loyalty and your devotion, and Tephra will thrive, as it always has. As it always will.”
She pauses with a sweeping gesture for Warrick to take her place.
”It has been a pleasure serving you,” she says, quietly – knowing it would be one of the last sunsets she would spend in the splendor of the Tephran haze.
She never felt in her blood; she never felt it as anything more than a burden – it had been meant for one other, and only one other, and his return filled her heart with both glee and relief. It was not that she could not handle the pressure, nor that she could not withstand the criticism and difficulties that came with the invisible crown. It simply belonged to someone else; it was never her fate to carry Tephra as her own. She protected it, and fiercely guarded it, always prepared to be the backbone in the face of adversity or to be the strength when she was needed to be – but she never envisioned peace, tranquility, and sanctum. Not as Magnus did, nor as Offspring did.
Not as Warrick does.
And so she emerges beneath the warmth of the falling sun, slowly eclipsed by the distant horizon, as if it were being swallowed whole by the sea. The pristine ivory of her preenly kept feathers flutter lightly in the sea-born breeze, stirring a shiver down the length of her spine as her gilded legs carry her to a hillcrest, where she can see the swaying grain and tropical foliage blooming before her. She is quiet and contemplative for a long moment, knowing what change lay before Tephra – and knowing what change lay before her, for Dahmer. With a deep and lingering breath exhaled at last, her voice bellows out over the grassland, calling all that dwell within and call the volcano their beacon and the island their domicile.
She is patient, awaiting their presence, her gaze heavy and lingering on Warrick –
The true Overseer; the truest she had ever or would ever know.
”Tephrans,” she begins, but she is not one for eloquence and refined speech. So often, she would prefer to cut through and get to the point of the matter, but there is an electricity to the air that causes her to take pause. To linger, and to absorb the moment. Warrick deserved the glory of the memory. ”as promised, the time has come to pass Overseer to an individual most deserving. Warrick has returned to us, and thus, the leadership is his, and he will carry Tephra into future days. Give him your loyalty and your devotion, and Tephra will thrive, as it always has. As it always will.”
She pauses with a sweeping gesture for Warrick to take her place.
”It has been a pleasure serving you,” she says, quietly – knowing it would be one of the last sunsets she would spend in the splendor of the Tephran haze.
Ellyse
(The nightmare) I built my own world to escape