haunted by the ghost of you; vulgaris

[leliana]

I don't know what I'm supposed to do, haunted by the ghost of you

Her wanderings finally lead her here.

It had taken several days after she had finally emerged to piece together the logical conclusion—for her to find an answer. Her heart continued to send out echoes, small cries that reverberate throughout all of Beqanna. She reaches for a sound of him; she reaches for any piece of him that she can find. It is a desperate kind of searching, a hunt that always ends up taking her back to the place where she began.

It doesn’t destroy her, but she feels the rivers of her heart changing.

She feels the way that it solidifies; the hurt that continues pounding like waves against the shore.

But, finally, she finds the answer in a dream. She wakes suddenly, eyes opening as white as the stars above and lifts. She does not mean to stay here. She does not mean to search through this plane. Instead, she angles her head toward the galaxies and exhales herself into the spinning array of constellations. 

Her breath escapes out of her into a plume of smoke, blending with her world of ash, and she slowly lowers herself back to the ground even as her consciousness floods outward. It cuts through the sky like a spear until it pierces the veil of the Afterlife and when it reforms, she stands there as she did before all of this began. Flowers still bloom in her hair and the tattoo curves up her spine, but she is otherwise unmarked. 

She is washed in the silvery light of the moon that is not her moon and the air is sweet and crisp. She can taste honeysuckle on it and the smell of fruit hanging heavy from branches. It is a gentle perfume and a reminder of life in a place that should hold none. Her eyes open hazel and her mouth falls into a soft line. 

There is none of the rage on her face and none of the exhaustion and none of the mourning.

There is just a girl who waits in a world hung perpetually in the midnight hour.

Just a girl who turns her gaze to the horizon and cradles hope to her breast like the last piece it was.

@[vulgaris]