“I am braver than Loneliness and nothing will ever exhaust me.”
There is nothing Isra understands now more than she understands how the glaze of shock and suffering turn the eyes to dull, dirty mirrors. When she looks into Illu's eyes all she can see are traces of all the things sitting like heavy stones in her heart. There is a story there, a tale of horror, and she knows enough not to ask for it.
She barely turns to watch Racthan leave.
Instead she steps closer and brushes her nose across the child's brow. Deep in the place where she is still a wistful story-teller she imagines that she can act like a catcher of dreams, feathered and full of spider-beads to drink gore and leave wonder. Closer to the surface of her, Isra knows that there is no forgetting for either dull glaze across their eyes.
Isra knows there is only surviving, and so it is to that she turns. The entire beach turns with her, quartz and pearls turn back to stone (as if the beach laments her decision to leave it). But Isra knows that each soft, magic sign she leaves is a trail back to everything she loves. And so she vows to herself that she will leave only warnings behind. Small spires of metal that will each say, with a jagged point, to a Raum and all his soldiers, there is only death for you at the end of this trail.
To Illu she says, with another kiss upon that fragile cheek, “Come. You must be hungry.” Isra remembers another time, when she was lost on the shore and the sun given flesh brought her food and the first kindness she has ever know. A tear glints like a diamond in the corner of her eyes, but she does not let it fall. She refuses.
Today is for beginnings.
Fable hums a soft agreement and he too lowers his nose towards the child. I will protect her as well. His eyes swirl, and blink, and look almost happy. Something in the awkward way he hangs his wings at his sides suggests a puppy looking at a litter-mate instead of a dragon looking at a foal.
“Follow me and I will tell you about our world.” Isra swallows down the urge to touch her again. She understands that shock takes both softness and hardness. Lately she has plenty of both. But still, she cannot help the way her eyes say all the secrets her lips do not give away. Her hooves turn away, leading back towards the shoreline and her hideaway in the canyons, yet her eyes never leave Illu.
She wants more than anything to take the girl back to Denocte and her castle on the hill.
Soon. Isra promises herself silently. Very soon. Her eyes promise Illu with the glazed and tormented gaze.
@Illu
She barely turns to watch Racthan leave.
Instead she steps closer and brushes her nose across the child's brow. Deep in the place where she is still a wistful story-teller she imagines that she can act like a catcher of dreams, feathered and full of spider-beads to drink gore and leave wonder. Closer to the surface of her, Isra knows that there is no forgetting for either dull glaze across their eyes.
Isra knows there is only surviving, and so it is to that she turns. The entire beach turns with her, quartz and pearls turn back to stone (as if the beach laments her decision to leave it). But Isra knows that each soft, magic sign she leaves is a trail back to everything she loves. And so she vows to herself that she will leave only warnings behind. Small spires of metal that will each say, with a jagged point, to a Raum and all his soldiers, there is only death for you at the end of this trail.
To Illu she says, with another kiss upon that fragile cheek, “Come. You must be hungry.” Isra remembers another time, when she was lost on the shore and the sun given flesh brought her food and the first kindness she has ever know. A tear glints like a diamond in the corner of her eyes, but she does not let it fall. She refuses.
Today is for beginnings.
Fable hums a soft agreement and he too lowers his nose towards the child. I will protect her as well. His eyes swirl, and blink, and look almost happy. Something in the awkward way he hangs his wings at his sides suggests a puppy looking at a litter-mate instead of a dragon looking at a foal.
“Follow me and I will tell you about our world.” Isra swallows down the urge to touch her again. She understands that shock takes both softness and hardness. Lately she has plenty of both. But still, she cannot help the way her eyes say all the secrets her lips do not give away. Her hooves turn away, leading back towards the shoreline and her hideaway in the canyons, yet her eyes never leave Illu.
She wants more than anything to take the girl back to Denocte and her castle on the hill.
Soon. Isra promises herself silently. Very soon. Her eyes promise Illu with the glazed and tormented gaze.
