Her words are sharp, they cut through Hestia like a knife. If she wasn’t so desperate the girl may have seen the anger and contempt the queen holds for almost everyone. But she clenches her jaw, and doesn’t say anything in reply to her barbed remark. They continue their back and forth, Hestia desperate enough to offer a bribe rather than a threat. When the girl at last agrees the black queen sighs in relief. Anything, she almost whispers under the weight lifted from her shoulders.
She explains what will happen and Hestia nods in acknowledgement. They proceed to arrive in a void and Hestia looks around before delving into her memories. They conjure around her as ghosts forever haunting her, all the emotion associated with them rising to fill the emptiness around them. They are jumbled not in any type of order. The Jungle burns around them, the scent of burning flesh and wood too pungent for her to breath; the heat crackling suffocating the two dreamers as the sisters scream their agony. Off to the side the sisters gather around for the bonding that ties her to the land and the Jaguar speaks words meant only for her own ears. On the other side of her an angry queen tries to sever her bond, and the pain of being rejected as a sister rips through them anew. The bitter voice reverberates around them denying her access to the Jungle. She watches her queen die in child birth. Watches as the sisters’ march through the land. Many more things, both painful and joyful bombard her until the sounds of her first night with Fennick take shape, and the quietly whispered words of adoration surround her. The world around them focuses in on him, what was it she was looking for again? All the others fall into the backdrop, the laughter of pollock as he dances on her face. The crunching bones she doesn’t realize is hers until it’s too late. The yanking of her soul back into the real world leaving her cold and untied to the land. The screams of the dying as the world turns in on itself. Her days in the Valley with laughing foals chasing one another. Foals… her attention turns to them. Suddenly everything comes rushing back to her diving into her all at once making her stagger and gasp.
So many memories, so much good and yet the bad is so painful most of the time it overwhelms the good. She looks to the laughing foals in front of her. The true joy of her life. They kick at one another playing silly games that leave them breathless. Iona took after her, more lithe, smaller in stature; where Kryten took after his father, thick and tall but he has one thing in common with her, the greenest eyes she’d ever seen. Greener that her own, which is hard to do. She smiles at seeing them, calling their names, yet they don’t respond. Kagerus, do you see them? Aren’t they beautiful? Her words are whispered and she presses her head against the girls. They are only memories after all. They are not the real thing. Something warm slips close on the opposite side of her than Kagerus is on. Her ears flick, but her eyes cannot be pealed away from the sight of her children.
He’s been watching them, two little females. The one he knows intimately, he watches her terror, drinks in her passions. She is the sweetest. His dark gaze travels over her frame, lingering on areas that he’s desperately missed. A smile cracks his lips. He is the darkness that surrounds the two, enveloping them in his embrace. She is still as black and beautiful as he remembers her. Hestia, you’ve come back to me. His voice echoes around them snuffing out the memories that torture the females. But his gaze is only fixed on one of them. Why so soon my love? She searches him for the source, but finds none. Confusion painted on her face as plainly as the emotions that pulse from her being.
Scents of salt, and tangy grasses lay thick around her. a frown pulls at his moody void. What had happened to the fresh perfumed scent of Beqanna and her lovely Jungle? She finds her voice once more, the bewilderment so obvious he almost takes shape for her. But no, it would frighten the other. She would not understand as he does not remember her as one of his regular visitors. He’s had many visitors, many who rest in his embrace taking solace from the pain that the fairies and Beqanna inflict on them. He cannot understand these gods they speak of. Why torture those that they could easily sooth into compliance? Ah well, the more they torture the more they come to him. And that is really all that matters, that they come to him. Share their world with him. Fill his emptiness and bring something more into the void that he is.
Words come from her mouth, but he doesn’t pay attention. To enraptured by her form and emotions to concentrate on her words, it’s most likely the same old same old. Who are you, why are you doing this, etc, etc, etc… Instead of responding he distracts her by nibbling down their spines hot breath blowing moist air with the intent to make them shiver. Whether that’s in fear or lust is up to them. Either would sate his appetite. tsk, tsk, tsk, my love. You promised me last time that this time would be forever. I’ve missed you, he growls in her ear climbing atop her surrounding and consuming her in the passions that can only be enjoyed in this place. She begins to open herself to him and allowing him to tether himself to her until release is found for both.
She is lost in a darkness, lost to Kagerus and all that she knows to be real. This is her safe place. She’s come here so often through the years, when not in Beqanna searching for this missing piece of herself. The void is alive and pulsing with a fullness that consumes her. She finds relief in this being. Thoughts slip from her mind, emotions and all that makes her Hestia slowly dissipates leaving her in peace. It’s so easy… the voice trails off before completely disappearing.
A faint sound far away fights its way through the void. Thoughts begin to form once more, emotions coming back, her body taking shape. NO! the power of the voice reverberates around her leaking into her bones. No, she has people to live for. Nerine, Murc, her children. The anger is suffocating, pressing against her skin until she once again remembers what fear is. Kagerus help! she screams into the darkness.
HESTIA
The devil whispered in my ear, you’ll never survive the storm
I whispered back, I am the storm
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