08-01-2021, 08:29 PM
prayed to keep my soul
T
he story begins long before Elliana and Reave and Beqanna. It starts with Elena and Lilliana and Beyond.
And stories and stories and stories and stories.
And then came Elliana.
And Reave.
And them here, in Beqanna.
Elena and Lilli always said they had a way of finding each other, even if through their descendants. Even if their descendants—they are not quite what their mother’s would have predicted.
Her mother has always struggled for her happiness, forever two steps behind it, and she has search all her life for that which would make her content, but Elliana came upon it one day and it has stayed with her ever since. Outside of the realm of her secret heartache, a well that runs deeper than the Earth's core, she is steady, alright, well. It comes as a shock, to most, that a girl so quiet and so tainted by the sorrow in her life by abandonment, by death, by struggle, should be so completely incorruptible. She is not a stranger to hatred, to lust or to violence, but she endures it with the grace of an ageless queen, and it does not ruin her as it might have, before.
She likes his eyes, she decides, now that she is finally looking at them, truly and really looking at them. She thinks for a moment, yes, she likes them. She tilts that pretty little head intelligently and says, finally, “It’s only because the world is too stingy, wanting to be heroes themselves,” she says and maybe it is unfair of her to assume such a thing, but she thinks it all the same. Her mother pushing through the pain of her brother, her father fighting for her to stay, to bring her back, the way Aeneas jumped off the ship. Everyone wants to be a hero. (Elli doesnt, not because she is original, but because she has seen the cost and it is not worth the effort.)
Maybe she would move away from the boney armor that perches against her side, maybe she should. But she doesn’t, because Elliana is Elliana and she never changes. He is sharp edges and Elli is an endless circle looking for some sign of a point. Reave offers it in the form of a shoulder blade sticking into her own and there a wash of relief that floods over her.
“Touche,” is what she responds with a reckless grin that shows how much, just how much she appreciates such an answer as his. “Then I will make one, set fire to the horizon till it blazes as bright,” she says with a gentle determination.
A promise of a garden.
“Show me.”
@Elliana speaks
elliana
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@Reave