[open] put your faith in a witch

[Sunday]

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She wakes on the Mountain after a long slumber.
She finds a girl and heals her.
She begins her trek down the Mountain.
None of these events seem too strange. Sunday has fallen into sleeps before so deep she doesn't rouse for years. Moss grows over her, and even now it sticks in places she can't reach and can't clean. She doesn't bother, it makes her feel one with the earth again.
Every step she takes down the Mountain, however, removes that feeling. The sensation of peace, of being "one" with the earth...it leaves. It dissipates until she is left with nothing but an empty feeling in the pit of her stomach. She can't hear the plants whisper like she once did, nor can she feel the calm, cool sensation of earth on her skin. She hears nothing. She is deaf to it all, and afraid.

But...it was just right here!

She is in the meadow now, a land both familiar and alien, for she's never seen it this crowded. Many mill around, looking for something, for anything. She finds the nearest and asks, in her diplomatic way. "Hello, I am so sorry to bother you...but has something happened? It's just...I..." even she doesn't know how to phrase the next sentence. I what? She what?

SUNDAY

never put your faith in a prince. when you require a miracle, trust in a witch

[Niklas]

I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife

I stand amongst the others milling about their menial lives, the hushed whisperings of magicks disappeared, leached from their bodies like the ails of old. A muscle at the base of my neck burns; I'd not noticed it before but if I hold my head just so ... I frown, nostrils drawn in tight with consternation. I cannot feel the Pull anymore. Hell, she is a fickle mistress, always calling to we who choose (or not so choose) to dwell with the mortals. My perfect siren, she is silent now. I ache for the sound of her voice now that it is gone. Funny, I would not have guessed.

The air is cool in my lungs. I had not noticed that before, either.

It is a moment before I realize she is speaking to me.

Has something happened. Is not always something happening?

I ask her as such, but not before I contemplate her. There is a lot you can tell, from quiet scrutiny, my eyes - a normal brown now, I would suppose - etching her form to memory. An old soul? Perhaps not as old as mine, though certainly more ancient than this vessel I possess. I stare hard another moment, lips parted with a slow breath before words are touched to flesh. "Is not always something happening? You know, already ... somewhere there." No supernaturals needed, here; I always was the discerning sort. I eye the moss that clings to hard to reach places, ears twisting back and then forth again. I want to hurt her but have no means yet. "Too many unknowns," I whisper, eyeing her with what I perceive to be innocence. The wintry air is cool in my ears, settling in my lungs with an aching sigh.

Niklas

Hybrid, Black, Set x Anaxarete, Demon

[Sunday]

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The other is a strange beast, but no stranger than others in Beqanna. He watches her, she can sense him tearing her to bits and pieces with his eyes in quiet consideration. There's not much to consider with Sunday, she is an awfully open book. Her smiles are quick and easy, she always speaks what is on her mind, and - above all - she is kind. Truly kind. Her past is marred with horrific experiences that left her a shadow of a creature for quite some time. And now? Through personal growth and change she's found her voice and her soul.

She is not naive, she is just kind.

The other replies and she cannot help but laugh - a real laugh. No forced breath of air pushed from her teeth, no choking jokes, just a soft sound of amusement. "Something is always happening," she agrees - admits. "It's a fascinating world that we live in." She adds that as an afterthought, considering him.

She once had empathy...traited, in a way. Her magick was of nature and earth and healing and softness. It was feeling others feelings and responding in ways to help. Always help.
She doesn't need empathy to see this other creature felt a similar loss.

"This time, though...part of us is missing."

SUNDAY

never put your faith in a prince. when you require a miracle, trust in a witch