boy what's normal to you? 'cause that sure ain't normal to me.
There is only an inkling of the death he experienced when the fairies returned him to his home. With each passing hour, the subtle pain of his passing drifts. There is only emotion: vulnerability, confusion, fear. He only has the vaguest idea of the sacrifice he made (and how that sacrifice is still selfish). Kensa does cross his mind, of course. Every second she crosses his mind, though he can hardly put the pieces together.
There are glimpses of her that flash in his head, and yet the images do not seem to fit. No chronological order can be set. Each image is more painful than the next, though, and he can hardly stand to watch the fear in her eyes deepen. Something is terribly wrong with these memories; the way they robotically pass behind his eyes feels as if they were placed there by some alien entity. One particular second chokes him - lodges in the back of his throat, rises to trigger his gag reflex, then rushes back down.
The sour feeling in his stomach forces him to a stop. Before him is the sky, wide and blue like tone of his thoughts. Centuries old canyons stretch across the skyline, hiding the shadows that whisper louder than ever to the Archon. He cringes against the bitter winter wind, somber eyes watching a few tumbleweeds pass ten feet ahead of him.
A lion calls to him, one so fierce and unbridled he has to bite his tongue to come back to reality. No amount of comfort within his home is enough - there is always this crippling sadness, this solitude, this isolation, insecurity - always this self-inflicted suffering he sits in. Lie would not wish this inner turmoil on his worst enemies (he can think of one . . . though he is certain she punishes herself enough). The cremello thought when he stood so close to Starsin that his new power would come and go without question. Now, he knows that it (power) is changing him - coating his emotions in the icky tar of his darkness.
The itching of a shifter’s skin will not stop. This time he draws blood from his tongue.
Keening from a deeper canyon echoes out of the thick cracks in Pangea’s skin. Litotes falls even more silent, already tense muscles locking as tightly as they can. He looks like a vigilant and frightened hero when he turns toward the direction the cries come from: his mane whipping around a piercing gaze, his left back leg paralyzed an inch above the ground, the way his muscles ripple with anticipation. He knows that sound; he wished desperately that he would never hear it again.
Rocks and dust fly beneath his hooves when he darts to a portion of the canyon he can stumble down. Sharpened pieces of shale leave bloody cuts on his legs and barrel. He does not feel their unforgiving sting - he does not care. The cremello hardly notices the tunnel-vision he gets when he faces Kensa, though if he does notice, he will not care. If she sounds as if she is pain, if she needs him to commit murder, even if she is just calling to him with that silken voice - he will rush to her side as if nothing in the world exists. Never again will he hurt her; for the rest of his life he will be making his mistakes up to her.
“Kensa?” he calls, taking a few-step stumble toward the water. The fear in his voice is clear. She leans against a fallen tree, belly round with a child he is certain is his.
“Kensa . . . wh-” but he does not finish because he is falling all over himself to get to her side. The second their faces brush in an embrace he means to be comforting, every bit of memory from his trip up the Mountain returns. “Oh, fuck . . .” he groans, wincing against the rush of emotion. His breathe stops for a moment and he grows dizzy.
The enormity of it all hits him like a tidal wave.
“Kensa,” his voice breaks. “Kensa.” There is nothing left for him to say. How many times will he hurt her, intentional or not? The weight of every little scrape he has made against her heart burns exact replicas on his own.
“Am I unforgivable?”
and if i fall would you know that to do?
and if i'm caught up would you stay?
i wrote you a novel :/
