JaneThe ocean raged just as it had done before, all those years ago. She remembered it now, creeping along the sands with her old companion. The companion who had died for Jane, for absolutely nothing at all. The fury of wind whipped around her skin from where she stood at the top of the cliff, staring into the watery abyss. When she squinted, she tried to imagine the tiny frame of her younger, exiled self. Exile had been so much better than this…

Jane had left home in the morning with a request for fresh air. Her husband had not cared, not that he needed to. In the end, Jane had slunk through Novus as little better than an air spirit on her way to the coast. This was where it had begun, and it made sense that this would be where it ended. The only part of her life with any joy, had been begun at this place. 

What had Hardison looked like, again?

Jane tried, but she couldn’t recall anything but a vague frame or silhouette of a rough woman. A woman who had given everything up in Mors Desert. She shuddered, and for the first time in years she felt the ache of the sandwyrm’s teeth in her skin. She had lived, once, hadn’t she?

As though trying to communicate, Jane felt a stirring in her womb. It was growing now, and she had tried to eat to keep others from wondering, but the rumours had certainly begun to swirl. 

She couldn’t do it, couldn’t subject a child to herself. She couldn’t face the entropy anymore.

Jane closed her eyes and focused on everything but sight; let her nose be stung by salt until she swore it must bleed. She thought of the rage of the waves and the sharp rocks that waited in the depth. She took a step back, fear flickering in her heart, and then she jumped. 

Flying. 


@Torielle


 
i've never felt more alone
it feels so scary getting old