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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


    Not your baby // Any
    #1
    "

    I've seen devils, i've seen saints
    I've seen the line between them fade


    There's smoke in the air again. I can smell it before I see it tint the skies red, and it raises the hair on my spine. There have been so many fires, and very few of them have had natural causes recently. It's impossible to tell with this one, though. Too far, and I find myself unwilling to investigate as long as it stays that way. 

    There are other things on my mind. Related, I suppose, even if indirectly. What was supposed to be three is now two, and even that is an uncertainty. I've succeeded in my childhood goal. My mother is nothing but a bad memory, one I wish I could erase. Scars are faded, my body has grown strong and I have horns to defy my enemies with. I am not weak anymore. But I think I may be alone still. 

    This was supposed to be our haven. An escape from brutal parents, where we could be safe among ourselves. I still don't know why Gar turned on us. I don't think I will ever be able to forget the fire glowing in his scales as he lit the moors blazing, no recognition on his face. And Ciri... My heart squeezes at the thought of her sweet face, twisted in pain. She'd been injured that day. Physically and emotionally, and I think we were never the same after that. 

    It's been a while since I saw her. Since I saw anyone, really, in more than a passing way. Not that I've really sought out the company. I think maybe I've learned my lesson on that subject. We all exist just to hurt one another. Or maybe it's just me. Maybe I'm the one that drives them away. 

    I'm thinking of leaving this place. It's been a haven for a few years now, but it seems so quiet these days. Desolate. And I'm spending far too much time alone with my thoughts. The air I breath is ashen. Looking over the grey plains, I have to wonder. What else is out there for me? Where can I go that I haven't been before? I stand on the edge of it all, looking to where sunlight catches the far off snake of the river. I could go there. It would be a start.

    Without much more thought, I let my feet carry me over the borderline. 



    TARTE









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