10-29-2019, 08:43 PM
<link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cinzel+Decorative|Crimson+Text" rel="stylesheet"><div style="background:linear-gradient(rgba(0,0,0,0)400px, rgba(0,0,0,1)550px),url('https://i.postimg.cc/x1tGjVKV/d177b2820f7602f336b64e3d8d65765b.jpg') no-repeat,#000;width:440px;padding:550px 30px 20px 30px;font:14px crimson text;color:#b2a89d;margin:auto;">She had forgotten what it felt like, to be afraid. Death had thrown her back and forth across the veil like a ragdoll until she learned that the end was never really the end at all. But now, listening to Rhy speak, she feels her chest tighten at the thought of seeing her daughter one more time. Would it hurt, to see her kind face? Would it rip all that gentle love back to the surface of her skin and leave her aching and raw once more? God, she used to love so easily and always came back from her disappointments, just begging for seconds. What would she become if her child’s face resurrected the parts of her that never grew back right?
Mordgeld inhales slowly to steady herself and steps forward despite the way her heart trembles between her ribs. When she slips through the veil, the waves sound more like static than anything soothing. Her amber eyes drift to the sky for a moment, watching gray clouds come rolling in and casting a sort of gray night over the realm of the dead. She never liked this part. Lightning flashes between the clouds, soundless, and each one shows a brief second of her life. She wonders if these old memories were meant to be a kindness or a mockery.
There is Adolf, handsome and kissing her face while she throws her head back and laughs. Her jaw clenches and she bites down on the edge of her tongue harshly to keep her mind from going down that path. He is never coming home, she reminds herself before turning her had back to the destination ahead. Still, in her peripheral, he is there and mouthing the promises of how much he loves her. Death could never find him to drag his crooked soul down here even when she had begged it to.
Others wander around her, head hanging low to only see the sand ahead of them, while others simply watch the sky with their mouths hanging open. Which would she become, if she stayed here forever? She always wondered, but for now she simply keeps her head held high and continues her search. Mordgeld can hear her child calling somewhere up ahead, where defiant rocks rise up for the static waves to crash and crackle against. Her heart thumps without rhythm now, only erratic little beats as it tries to brace itself to see her face again. But oh, the way it sinks when that dark face peeks out from behind those ink black boulders.
“Mother,” she says in a voice that is only breaths above a whisper. And Mordgeld can’t help it any longer. The tears come flowing down her cheeks and all that warmth floods her veins. The levy breaks and she wilts against her daughter, curling her head so tightly over Nymphetamine’s neck and hugging her close. The girl sighs into her mother’s hair and relaxes into her embrace as easily as anything.
“<I>You were alone,</i>” she chokes, shaking with each sob now. “<I>You were so cold.</i>”
But Nymph only laughs, a gentle sound as she presses her cheek to Mordgeld’s. How could she have given life to a girl so perfect, she wonders? Slowly, carefully, the child steps back and watches her with a concerned little smile.
“I lived a good life. Don’t waste silly tears on me,” she assures her, shrugging her strong shoulders. “We can’t change what’s happened but we can spend the time we have together.”
And then she curls against her mother’s side, head leaned against Mordgeld’s shoulders as the crackling waves break over them. Only now does she notice the smell of salt has left the ocean around them. Slowly, gently, she lowers her head and places the broken token at Nymph’s feet. Her laughter sounds like silver bells all chiming in perfect harmony and the sound breaks her heart into a thousand shards. She waits patiently for a story but the girl says nothing more for a while, contemplating as she stares at it.
“I’ll make you a deal. I’ll spend the next year after tonight coming up with the perfect story. When the year is up, bring it back to me and I’ll tell you all about it.”
Mordgeld smiles weakly and nods, pressing her lips to Nymph’s temple as she sighs slowly.
“<I>I promise. I promise I will.</i>”
<div style="font:36px cinzel decorative;letter-spacing:5px;text-align:center;padding-top:20px;margin-bottom:-15px;color:#730118;">MordgelD</div>
<center>i am the dragon breathing fire.
beautiful man, i'm the lion.</center></div>
Mordgeld inhales slowly to steady herself and steps forward despite the way her heart trembles between her ribs. When she slips through the veil, the waves sound more like static than anything soothing. Her amber eyes drift to the sky for a moment, watching gray clouds come rolling in and casting a sort of gray night over the realm of the dead. She never liked this part. Lightning flashes between the clouds, soundless, and each one shows a brief second of her life. She wonders if these old memories were meant to be a kindness or a mockery.
There is Adolf, handsome and kissing her face while she throws her head back and laughs. Her jaw clenches and she bites down on the edge of her tongue harshly to keep her mind from going down that path. He is never coming home, she reminds herself before turning her had back to the destination ahead. Still, in her peripheral, he is there and mouthing the promises of how much he loves her. Death could never find him to drag his crooked soul down here even when she had begged it to.
Others wander around her, head hanging low to only see the sand ahead of them, while others simply watch the sky with their mouths hanging open. Which would she become, if she stayed here forever? She always wondered, but for now she simply keeps her head held high and continues her search. Mordgeld can hear her child calling somewhere up ahead, where defiant rocks rise up for the static waves to crash and crackle against. Her heart thumps without rhythm now, only erratic little beats as it tries to brace itself to see her face again. But oh, the way it sinks when that dark face peeks out from behind those ink black boulders.
“Mother,” she says in a voice that is only breaths above a whisper. And Mordgeld can’t help it any longer. The tears come flowing down her cheeks and all that warmth floods her veins. The levy breaks and she wilts against her daughter, curling her head so tightly over Nymphetamine’s neck and hugging her close. The girl sighs into her mother’s hair and relaxes into her embrace as easily as anything.
“<I>You were alone,</i>” she chokes, shaking with each sob now. “<I>You were so cold.</i>”
But Nymph only laughs, a gentle sound as she presses her cheek to Mordgeld’s. How could she have given life to a girl so perfect, she wonders? Slowly, carefully, the child steps back and watches her with a concerned little smile.
“I lived a good life. Don’t waste silly tears on me,” she assures her, shrugging her strong shoulders. “We can’t change what’s happened but we can spend the time we have together.”
And then she curls against her mother’s side, head leaned against Mordgeld’s shoulders as the crackling waves break over them. Only now does she notice the smell of salt has left the ocean around them. Slowly, gently, she lowers her head and places the broken token at Nymph’s feet. Her laughter sounds like silver bells all chiming in perfect harmony and the sound breaks her heart into a thousand shards. She waits patiently for a story but the girl says nothing more for a while, contemplating as she stares at it.
“I’ll make you a deal. I’ll spend the next year after tonight coming up with the perfect story. When the year is up, bring it back to me and I’ll tell you all about it.”
Mordgeld smiles weakly and nods, pressing her lips to Nymph’s temple as she sighs slowly.
“<I>I promise. I promise I will.</i>”
<div style="font:36px cinzel decorative;letter-spacing:5px;text-align:center;padding-top:20px;margin-bottom:-15px;color:#730118;">MordgelD</div>
<center>i am the dragon breathing fire.
beautiful man, i'm the lion.</center></div>