and bury it before it buries me
It is hard, much harder than she expected to leave those fireflies behind. To leave that warmth of what felt like Ori behind. Elena blinks blue eyes. It wasn't Ori, she has to remind herself. She sure what it was, but it was not her cousin. No matter how much she wishes it were. Elena learned a long time ago that wishing and hoping does not make something so. She thinks she just wants to get out of here, but there is something that sits at the back of her mind that tells her going back may be more dangerous now than going forwards.
Elena dips further into the forest and it reminds her of the monarchs that had flowed around Murmuring Rivers, as if the gentle valley had been their ocean. “They are beautiful to tell the bird that they are poison,” says Aletta to the yearling children as they watch the fluttering creatures with awe. And that is all Elena can think as color is drenched around her (wildflowers, autumn hues). Poison. She thinks. This place is hiding something, and Elena’s heart races with danger, she breathes in and the air tastes like peril.
It comes towards her like the ghost of an ocean wave. Elena gasps as it finally reaches her, expecting to feel pain or discomfort, but she feels—nothing. And like the tide it sweeps her silently underneath.
“Hello?” She calls out as her vision is obscured. She has no choice but to keep moving, the fog has to end somewhere, but there is a thud in her heart that tells her somewhere is no where close to here. She feels stray roots reaching up towards her, longer grass tangling around her legs. She has a sudden realization, she was no longer on the path the stranger had told her to follow. “You got what you wanted,” she shouts at the fog, head turning around and ears turning as a voice catches her attention. “You are going to have to be faster than that if you want to beat me!” The voice calls out playfully. “Ori?” Elena questions not for the first time on her journey. Elena whips around, trying to find the source of the voice. “Elena, you left when your family needed you,” another, deeper voice says. “Valerio, I know, I’m sorr—” she begins to say but then she swears she sees the shadow of another in the corner of her eye. “I still think you’d make a promising, politician,” comes Kensa and Elena tries to find her, wants to apologize, to tell her it was never meant to be.
A shape appears then and for a flash of a moment it holds a crimson shade. “Stay, Elena, Nash and Yan are getting so big, you have to see them.” Lilli, it’s Lilli, even if she had not said her sons’ names Elena would know it is her. “I can’t,” she says, she cant stay, not here. Black shows up on the side of her vision. “That’s enough flowers in my mane, Elena, everyone with think me a garden instead of a stallion.” Oh god, oh god, Alvaro, the brother she found in a cousin. Guilt wracks her, it had been so long since she had thought of him. A pale shape stands beside him. “Elena, if you are good and stay here with us, I’ll let you come on patrol with me in the morning.” No, Marcelo, she cant, she cant stay. But Elena isn't thinking that anymore, not with so many of her friends and family around her, faces she hasn't seen in so long, voices she has not heard in ages, and touches she has not felt in years. They are here, all of them, with her.
It is then she appears.
Call it mother’s intuition, even from the grave she knows when her daughter is in trouble.
The shape of her mother forms, so clear and perfect beside her, humming that old familiar lullaby. Elena thinks, if she reached out to touch her, she would find that old warmth that only a mother can offer her child. But it is in the same breath of realization that Elena drops down from the dream she been lifted to, back to the solid ground of reality. ”No," she says to the form beside her. "I know what you are trying to do." These we not real. No one can bring back the dead. Elena would know as much. She had gone to the ends of the earth and turned up empty handed and blue-eyed. "Get away from me!” She shouts. ”Elena..." her mother's voice comes one last time, but the golden girl is already blindly rushing forwards through the fog, towards the light. “Elena,” the other voices called, desperate to keep her with them.
“All you have to do is follow the lost voices…”
The familiar instructions come to her again, the stranger’s instructions. She races forwards, the light the only thing she can see, the only thing that feels real in this graveyard of masked ghosts and haunted memories.
Choice: continue through the fog onto the light
Elena dips further into the forest and it reminds her of the monarchs that had flowed around Murmuring Rivers, as if the gentle valley had been their ocean. “They are beautiful to tell the bird that they are poison,” says Aletta to the yearling children as they watch the fluttering creatures with awe. And that is all Elena can think as color is drenched around her (wildflowers, autumn hues). Poison. She thinks. This place is hiding something, and Elena’s heart races with danger, she breathes in and the air tastes like peril.
It comes towards her like the ghost of an ocean wave. Elena gasps as it finally reaches her, expecting to feel pain or discomfort, but she feels—nothing. And like the tide it sweeps her silently underneath.
“Hello?” She calls out as her vision is obscured. She has no choice but to keep moving, the fog has to end somewhere, but there is a thud in her heart that tells her somewhere is no where close to here. She feels stray roots reaching up towards her, longer grass tangling around her legs. She has a sudden realization, she was no longer on the path the stranger had told her to follow. “You got what you wanted,” she shouts at the fog, head turning around and ears turning as a voice catches her attention. “You are going to have to be faster than that if you want to beat me!” The voice calls out playfully. “Ori?” Elena questions not for the first time on her journey. Elena whips around, trying to find the source of the voice. “Elena, you left when your family needed you,” another, deeper voice says. “Valerio, I know, I’m sorr—” she begins to say but then she swears she sees the shadow of another in the corner of her eye. “I still think you’d make a promising, politician,” comes Kensa and Elena tries to find her, wants to apologize, to tell her it was never meant to be.
A shape appears then and for a flash of a moment it holds a crimson shade. “Stay, Elena, Nash and Yan are getting so big, you have to see them.” Lilli, it’s Lilli, even if she had not said her sons’ names Elena would know it is her. “I can’t,” she says, she cant stay, not here. Black shows up on the side of her vision. “That’s enough flowers in my mane, Elena, everyone with think me a garden instead of a stallion.” Oh god, oh god, Alvaro, the brother she found in a cousin. Guilt wracks her, it had been so long since she had thought of him. A pale shape stands beside him. “Elena, if you are good and stay here with us, I’ll let you come on patrol with me in the morning.” No, Marcelo, she cant, she cant stay. But Elena isn't thinking that anymore, not with so many of her friends and family around her, faces she hasn't seen in so long, voices she has not heard in ages, and touches she has not felt in years. They are here, all of them, with her.
It is then she appears.
Call it mother’s intuition, even from the grave she knows when her daughter is in trouble.
The shape of her mother forms, so clear and perfect beside her, humming that old familiar lullaby. Elena thinks, if she reached out to touch her, she would find that old warmth that only a mother can offer her child. But it is in the same breath of realization that Elena drops down from the dream she been lifted to, back to the solid ground of reality. ”No," she says to the form beside her. "I know what you are trying to do." These we not real. No one can bring back the dead. Elena would know as much. She had gone to the ends of the earth and turned up empty handed and blue-eyed. "Get away from me!” She shouts. ”Elena..." her mother's voice comes one last time, but the golden girl is already blindly rushing forwards through the fog, towards the light. “Elena,” the other voices called, desperate to keep her with them.
“All you have to do is follow the lost voices…”
The familiar instructions come to her again, the stranger’s instructions. She races forwards, the light the only thing she can see, the only thing that feels real in this graveyard of masked ghosts and haunted memories.
Choice: continue through the fog onto the light
so take away this apathy
bury it before it buries me
@Official Dawn Account
![[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
