there's only darkness at the finish; any

[perse]

i wanted pomegranates— i wanted darkness— i wanted him-- She feels spat out of hell. Not in a rebellious way, she is not a particularly wicked girl (she sheds her own blood, not others). More, she once had everything, she had Him (she believes this, at least, having mastered the fatal technique of believing her own lies). But He had told her to leave, to go find her mothers, and she had obeyed. She always obeys. It hurt, to leave His lair, her castle of stone and shadow. She misses the chuffing of the hellhounds. She misses Him most of all, the ways He would take her apart and put her back together. All that’s left is a brand, His sigil burnt on her crest. It is warm, sometimes, and she knows He is thinking of her. This world is too bright. She learns she doesn’t particularly like the sunlight. Her coat – a burnished silver, like her mother – refracts the light, throws her from her side, a sunburst. A girl raised in gloom, suddenly made to confront the sun. She forgets to eat and drink, at first. He had always sustained her in other ways. She is confused, when her stomach first starts to feel hollow, when her lips feel dry and parched. The first taste of clover is sublime, however, the first drink quenches a thirst she’d forgotten she’d had. (She’d eaten Before – before He took her – but she is not the same thing, now.) She is not sure how to interact with the others. They are almost a different species, she thinks. She does not know what to say to them. She does not know what she wants (other than to go back to Him, always back to Him). But still, she grows lonely. She grows lonely and so she emerges into the sunlight, bright and dazzling. She emerges, a smile on her face and a brand on her neck, embracing the sun, for this moment. p e r s e ------------------------------cordis x spyndle