there's only darkness at the finish; any

[perse]

i wanted pomegranates— i wanted darkness— i wanted him-- To Cordis, His lair had been a prison. To Perse, it had been a castle. She found nothing confining about the dank walls. She found comfort in the enclosure, comfort in the gloom and shadows. She liked darkness, always had, a rotten cavity in her soul that craved it. True, sometimes there were sounds (the wet tearing of meat, animalistic shrieks, the chuffing of the hellhounds), but she put those out of her mind. The sounds did not come from her (instead, she loved the pain, cherished it, took it as a sign of His love, His devotion), so why should they matter? This land is far more a prison, with its strange rules, with the walls of horses packed around. This land is a prison, but there are no guards to guide her. The brand feels cool against her neck and she aches for the warmth. She aches for Him to appear and strip the flesh from her bones, rebuild her, own her. This world is not meant for her, nor she for it. She doesn’t see the girl, at first. She is not in the business of noticing overmuch, preferring to daydream, as if she could wish herself back into His lair. She is lonely but the creatures around her are so much less than He is. But she does, eventually. She lays eyes on the girl, black and wrapped in the bracken. She almost walks on – children unnerve her, remind her of other times, before she was His. But then the hesitates, speaks. “What are you doing in there?” p e r s e ------------------------------cordis x spyndle