and bury it before it buries me
Novus had changed her.
Dusk has changed her.
Although those pretty blue eyes still hold ghosts like graves hold bones, Elena is stronger, she has learned to stand on her own, without the protective embraces of her family, or without Lilli only a moment’s notice away in Taiga, just waiting for her. But Elena is a slave to her past, and the same mistakes have not been so easy to leave behind.
Elena, for all her light, is the sun in the sky to light up that bright blue that reflects in her eyes. She is the contradiction of solemn, pain looks that is hidden beneath the honey tongue and silver-bell voice that laughs too easy and smiles far too often. She is fear swallowed in the mouth of bravery and want.
It is both foreign and frightening how whole she had felt in his presence, so unlike the broken creature she had always known herself to be. She would forget how her mind would wander, the way it swallowed darkness and sorrow as grief would breed beneath her skin. She felt so wanted, so desired in his presence. She had felt electric with his eyes on hers, with his brow pressed against her own.
He feels more like a phantom now than a man, but she knows no spirit could alight her soul like he had. (“A dance for a name then.”) (“I would catch you.”)
He might never come back to her, she has considered the thought. She may never find him again, she has ponders. But Elena is doomed to always be within arm’s reach of suffering. That would not be the last time she saw the Denocte man. Maybe she was always destined to be sought out by those with darkness surrounding them.
The shadows of the trees cast dapples across her back as she moves about the hospital. She turns those blue eyes only slightly and the bird has appeared before her, covered in shadows. Elena knows who has sent this creature for her and there is a moment that thinks she shouldn’t, wonders, but she is drawn to him, always drawn to him. It goes into the air, and like the dutiful girl she has always been (not matter how it has cost her) Elena follows.
He stands there alone (alone as she had once been, by circumstance, not choice.) She stares at him and his shadows for a moment. They say if you if you stare too long into the abyss it will stare back at you. But this is no abyss. And Elena is at his side. He is the angle of a sharp blade, and one she presses to her cheek so willingly, the sweet agony of it. He smells metallic, and cold, and the heat of the infection makes her dizzy. Yet it is so familiar, the former apprentice, a previous healer, and an ex politician knows what to do, this she can do, this she knows with such certainty and the ground grows solid beneath her feet.
Elena was not blind.
Even with wounds, with blood, Elena knows how handsome he is, how beautiful he is with darkness.
“Shhh,” she says, and those blue eyes turn winter as she focuses her attention on what she needs to do. She is not the girl of light playing amongst shadows in this moment, but Elena the healer, the medic, the apprentice now grown. But then his brow moves towards her own and she has no choice but to move it back him. It is the tide reaching towards the moon. She pulls back just in time to see his smile and it is almost enough to undo her, to make her lose her concentration, but Elena, sweet Elena, she can be steely when she needs. Those eyes like summer blue skies are chilled to frost as she looks over his wounds. Is she true to her words? Elena turns to look into his eyes, and they instantly warm. Had this been another universe, another time, and she were human, she would cupped his head within her hands and held him there just so. “I will always help you,” she says, before he slips onto his knees.
“Stay awake,” she orders him. “I will be back,” she says and she runs to gather supplies. She needed to draw out the infection and ease his pain. The large gash on his neck would need to be closed. Comfrey she finds, it would mend the tissues and reduce the swelling. Usnea would help to drawn out the infection. She makes poultices out of each of them before returning to the Denocte man.
She first uses the unsea to draw out the infection from his throat, but Elena cannot help but wonder what creature could have given him this. Comfrey is used to then mend the tissue and would aid in easing his pain, she hoped. Only when the blood looks clean does she wrap his wounds.
Elena sits with him then, closing her eyes for a moment with the effort she had felt, only then letting panic wash over her if she had not found him in time, what could have happened. Elena turns blue eyes to the shadow man, unsure if he can hear her. “Why didn't you come sooner?” She says to him quietly, an accusation no matter how gently she speaks it. She breathes. “A life for a name, Denocte.”
Dusk has changed her.
Although those pretty blue eyes still hold ghosts like graves hold bones, Elena is stronger, she has learned to stand on her own, without the protective embraces of her family, or without Lilli only a moment’s notice away in Taiga, just waiting for her. But Elena is a slave to her past, and the same mistakes have not been so easy to leave behind.
Elena, for all her light, is the sun in the sky to light up that bright blue that reflects in her eyes. She is the contradiction of solemn, pain looks that is hidden beneath the honey tongue and silver-bell voice that laughs too easy and smiles far too often. She is fear swallowed in the mouth of bravery and want.
It is both foreign and frightening how whole she had felt in his presence, so unlike the broken creature she had always known herself to be. She would forget how her mind would wander, the way it swallowed darkness and sorrow as grief would breed beneath her skin. She felt so wanted, so desired in his presence. She had felt electric with his eyes on hers, with his brow pressed against her own.
He feels more like a phantom now than a man, but she knows no spirit could alight her soul like he had. (“A dance for a name then.”) (“I would catch you.”)
He might never come back to her, she has considered the thought. She may never find him again, she has ponders. But Elena is doomed to always be within arm’s reach of suffering. That would not be the last time she saw the Denocte man. Maybe she was always destined to be sought out by those with darkness surrounding them.
The shadows of the trees cast dapples across her back as she moves about the hospital. She turns those blue eyes only slightly and the bird has appeared before her, covered in shadows. Elena knows who has sent this creature for her and there is a moment that thinks she shouldn’t, wonders, but she is drawn to him, always drawn to him. It goes into the air, and like the dutiful girl she has always been (not matter how it has cost her) Elena follows.
He stands there alone (alone as she had once been, by circumstance, not choice.) She stares at him and his shadows for a moment. They say if you if you stare too long into the abyss it will stare back at you. But this is no abyss. And Elena is at his side. He is the angle of a sharp blade, and one she presses to her cheek so willingly, the sweet agony of it. He smells metallic, and cold, and the heat of the infection makes her dizzy. Yet it is so familiar, the former apprentice, a previous healer, and an ex politician knows what to do, this she can do, this she knows with such certainty and the ground grows solid beneath her feet.
Elena was not blind.
Even with wounds, with blood, Elena knows how handsome he is, how beautiful he is with darkness.
“Shhh,” she says, and those blue eyes turn winter as she focuses her attention on what she needs to do. She is not the girl of light playing amongst shadows in this moment, but Elena the healer, the medic, the apprentice now grown. But then his brow moves towards her own and she has no choice but to move it back him. It is the tide reaching towards the moon. She pulls back just in time to see his smile and it is almost enough to undo her, to make her lose her concentration, but Elena, sweet Elena, she can be steely when she needs. Those eyes like summer blue skies are chilled to frost as she looks over his wounds. Is she true to her words? Elena turns to look into his eyes, and they instantly warm. Had this been another universe, another time, and she were human, she would cupped his head within her hands and held him there just so. “I will always help you,” she says, before he slips onto his knees.
“Stay awake,” she orders him. “I will be back,” she says and she runs to gather supplies. She needed to draw out the infection and ease his pain. The large gash on his neck would need to be closed. Comfrey she finds, it would mend the tissues and reduce the swelling. Usnea would help to drawn out the infection. She makes poultices out of each of them before returning to the Denocte man.
She first uses the unsea to draw out the infection from his throat, but Elena cannot help but wonder what creature could have given him this. Comfrey is used to then mend the tissue and would aid in easing his pain, she hoped. Only when the blood looks clean does she wrap his wounds.
Elena sits with him then, closing her eyes for a moment with the effort she had felt, only then letting panic wash over her if she had not found him in time, what could have happened. Elena turns blue eyes to the shadow man, unsure if he can hear her. “Why didn't you come sooner?” She says to him quietly, an accusation no matter how gently she speaks it. She breathes. “A life for a name, Denocte.”
so take away this apathy
bury it before it buries me
@Tenebrae
![[Image: ddvotwe-59302ba6-6a81-47bf-9846-30c5a5db...0iFb4PvyXE]](https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/8026a53b-dc57-41ab-b574-9f8a8fe57ce4/ddvotwe-59302ba6-6a81-47bf-9846-30c5a5db0780.png?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7InBhdGgiOiJcL2ZcLzgwMjZhNTNiLWRjNTctNDFhYi1iNTc0LTlmOGE4ZmU1N2NlNFwvZGR2b3R3ZS01OTMwMmJhNi02YTgxLTQ3YmYtOTg0Ni0zMGM1YTVkYjA3ODAucG5nIn1dXSwiYXVkIjpbInVybjpzZXJ2aWNlOmZpbGUuZG93bmxvYWQiXX0.ujCJH7FAbsQhfZlQniMmEd_vw-VmvaTDn0iFb4PvyXE)
let's light this house on fire
we'll dance in the warmth of its blaze
pixel made by the amazing star
