she was powerful not because she wasn't scared,
but because she went on strongly despite her fear.
but because she went on strongly despite her fear.
Before the astringent blasts came to breathe their world anew, before the snow accumulated to force their familiar paths to a stark canvas, she observed each sculpted flake with eyes at ease, the turbulent dance of billions languidly welding over the earth.
She'd been hushed for so long.
There was challenge in growing accustomed to a new place. When she'd left Varak, everything she knew had fragmented into shards that could not be repaired. Familiarity had become something foreign and all that she grasped and understood were memories of a country she could not retreat to. In Novus, she had grown pale, bewildered, but this was not who she was at her core. Her opinion, her voice, they'd been silenced by the lack of understanding, but the veil had started to lift, the mystery began to dissipate.
For the first time in a long time, the silver-haired woman felt wholly herself.
And the scene was a hearth-fire to it, bringing the hint of a newborn smile, one that lifted the spirit onto the wind with a bohemian blossom. That which rested in the easy summer days had now awoken; the wintry frost, delphinium in cast, reflected only the nascent drive Maerys had hidden for so many seasons. There was energy in this awakening, in this remembrance of who she was, and as if she could not bear it any longer, she began to move - to race past ridges and ranges and through adumbration and illuminations just the same.
As those eyes, spirited and awake, lift to the heavens - to the shifting wintry sky - the snowflakes hit her cheeks just the same as they did the earth.
She wasn’t merely running with the snowflakes; she was gliding as they did.
She'd been hushed for so long.
There was challenge in growing accustomed to a new place. When she'd left Varak, everything she knew had fragmented into shards that could not be repaired. Familiarity had become something foreign and all that she grasped and understood were memories of a country she could not retreat to. In Novus, she had grown pale, bewildered, but this was not who she was at her core. Her opinion, her voice, they'd been silenced by the lack of understanding, but the veil had started to lift, the mystery began to dissipate.
For the first time in a long time, the silver-haired woman felt wholly herself.
And the scene was a hearth-fire to it, bringing the hint of a newborn smile, one that lifted the spirit onto the wind with a bohemian blossom. That which rested in the easy summer days had now awoken; the wintry frost, delphinium in cast, reflected only the nascent drive Maerys had hidden for so many seasons. There was energy in this awakening, in this remembrance of who she was, and as if she could not bear it any longer, she began to move - to race past ridges and ranges and through adumbration and illuminations just the same.
As those eyes, spirited and awake, lift to the heavens - to the shifting wintry sky - the snowflakes hit her cheeks just the same as they did the earth.
She wasn’t merely running with the snowflakes; she was gliding as they did.
M A E R Y S
![[Image: maerys-pixel.png]](https://i.ibb.co/kM48w8r/maerys-pixel.png){kind=tracking}
x
force and magic always permitted
