and bury it before it buries me
Elena’s monsters, Elena’s villains. They have always been real. She can see one of them now, with his dead, demon eyes, and vile lips, the stench of murder tangled in his coat. He had been a monster. He had leveled cities and burned families and there had been nothing humane about him, but still, she had cared for him. Even when he had taken her away from her home, her family. He would not have cared for her back, she accepted this. Let him go. Because she knew, oh she knew, no matter what he could offer her, it would always be destruction and suffering he would give her.
(There are days when she still thinks of him.)
She knows the thoughts of him are coming because she will grow cold without there being a chill in the air, without a cloud passing over, or the wind blowing by. It was always unwanted, just as she had tried to convince herself how she felt about him. He was wrong. Everything about him and inside him and them together was wrong. Oh but she was so stubborn.
The creamy haired girl frowns slightly at the way Marisol’s lips purse suddenly. Perhaps, her initial assumption of Novus was incorrect. “War is…” Elena doesn't finish her sentence, she trails off. As the daughter of an officer and the goddaughter of a guardian, Elena has seen her share of wars and what it does. There are not words. She puts the idea to rest.
While the commander’s words do not comfort Elena, they are are enough to absolve any doubt that perhaps she left one torn land for another. Beqanna had been ripped apart in its separate corners, and Lilli and Elena had continuously blurred the lines between the north and the east, lines that now stand firm, written in fire.
“Well commander,” she says with a small dip of her head. “I look forward to serving you,” she offers. Elena’s blue eyes glance towards the window. “I should probably head back to my quarters. I don't think a walk in both the cold and the dark would be kind.”
And she departs.
(There are days when she still thinks of him.)
She knows the thoughts of him are coming because she will grow cold without there being a chill in the air, without a cloud passing over, or the wind blowing by. It was always unwanted, just as she had tried to convince herself how she felt about him. He was wrong. Everything about him and inside him and them together was wrong. Oh but she was so stubborn.
The creamy haired girl frowns slightly at the way Marisol’s lips purse suddenly. Perhaps, her initial assumption of Novus was incorrect. “War is…” Elena doesn't finish her sentence, she trails off. As the daughter of an officer and the goddaughter of a guardian, Elena has seen her share of wars and what it does. There are not words. She puts the idea to rest.
While the commander’s words do not comfort Elena, they are are enough to absolve any doubt that perhaps she left one torn land for another. Beqanna had been ripped apart in its separate corners, and Lilli and Elena had continuously blurred the lines between the north and the east, lines that now stand firm, written in fire.
“Well commander,” she says with a small dip of her head. “I look forward to serving you,” she offers. Elena’s blue eyes glance towards the window. “I should probably head back to my quarters. I don't think a walk in both the cold and the dark would be kind.”
And she departs.
so take away this apathy
bury it before it buries me
@
let's light this house on fire
we'll dance in the warmth of its blaze
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