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  • Beqanna

    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    [private]  I will be your sword and shield; Lilliana, birthing
    #3

    cold in the violence after the war
    hope is a fire to keep us warm

    Her voice reaches her, muffled, as though it had traveled across a great distance. It stirs what little fight she has left, the need to comfort and protect almost enough to stay the hands of death. Her eyelids flutter as she tries to lift her head, but she doesn’t have the strength. She can faintly hear the sounds of her son stirring, attempting to rise, of Lilli’s encouragement, distorted and distant.

    She reaches for her, as though she could somehow share, without words, that she would always be here for her. It doesn’t feel like a lie, even though it must be. Her breath has grown too heavy in her lungs. Too hard and thick to draw in. Even as her last breath shudders out, flames begin to lick her skin. But she clings with stubborn tenacity, even now. Almost as though summoned by instinct, stone ripples across her skin, dampening the flame. Snuffing it out until her curled figure is frozen and lifeless. A prison of stone and bone, warring with the inevitable.

    ----

    Reave mama had called him. Reave.

    His vision, vision that should have been new and bleary, is sharp and clear. He can see her face, bone-masked and beautifully fearsome, even with her eyes closed. He knows something is terribly wrong. Everything tells him to rise, so that maybe she will rise. If she did, everything would be alright. He knew it.

    The other woman comes, grief and worry and fear a blaze across her. He knows her. Deep inside, her knows her, kin calling kin. He rises for her too. To show strength and bravery. Because she needed it as much as sleeping mama did.

    But it’s not enough. Somehow, it’s not enough. Even as he wobbles on his feet, he can feel the distant exhale as Brazen breathes her last. The flames are brief, quickly snuffed out as he stares at her. In a rush, he crumples forward, falling against her unforgiving side. She doesn’t move, her skin refusing to flex beneath his touch. After a moment, he looks up at his other mama, bewildered confusion filling his wide blue gaze.


    Brazen




    @[lilliana]
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    Messages In This Thread
    RE: I will be your sword and shield; Lilliana, birthing - by Brazen - 11-24-2020, 02:02 PM



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