she was half human..
half universe.
She had never known a night this long. Not once. A part of her almost wished that the morning would come; that she would wake up from the nightmare of glistening crimson on new snow. That maybe, she was not the storm that had rolled into the boundaries of the Steppe. That maybe, she did not walk into her battlefield with hurricanes churning in her eyes and her lips craving the taste of Solterran blood. That maybe.. maybe this wasn’t real.
Not once, had she ever desired such things.
But then again, not once had her freedom been torn — literally — from her. Ripped clean with bones and teeth and plucked feathers. In that moment.. she was grounded. Bound and chained to the earth. She did not even know if she’d ever taste the bliss of swimming in Calligo’s stars again. Stars above, she could barely recall how she managed to arrive back at court. In the castle’s walls. In the infirmary. All she could remember is his teeth. The white-hot sear of bones snapping and flesh shredding open. Her blood splashed against a backdrop of white. The fingers of unconsciousness grasping her, pulling her into their abyss, their shadows.. so so unlike the darkness she reveled in. Nothing like Night’s eternal embrace.
Now, her mind swims on the cusp of unknowing. Her blood is buzzing; from what, she doesn’t know. Warmth trickles down her throat, tingling down her spine and legs and.. and her wings. Her wing.. she does not have the strength to look upon the wreckage. What is left and what is not. Even on this night, she has not realized that Calligo’s stardust no longer clings to her skin. It is as though the magic in her has been drained away — drained with each drop of her blood that has been spilled. She is broken. Utterly and completely broken.
With tender hands, she desperately searches for the emotions that wash over her skin. Sweats beads upon the midnight of her coat, and yet she shivers; for even though she had laid in the snow, for a countless amount of time.. she had never been so cold. Crystals of ice are sharp in her blood, her bones. Yet someone dribbles fire down her throat, beaconing her to drink. To take the pain away. If only she could sleep.. to fall into a dreamless slumber. To wake up in a kingdom made of twilight and fireflies and stars.
She could barely remember her own name through it all.
Aislinn.
The dull color of her eyes flare, brilliantly and blue through the sconce light, before fading to lackluster once more. Her ears flicker forward, lazily but enough, at the sound of her name. Velveteen lips curl, soft but sweet. ”Asterion,” she rasps. Her first words in hours. They found him. She watches him through the haze, noting the familiarity of that shining star upon his forehead. That beacon from which she will always find through the darkness. And his eyes.. they swim in galaxies of so many things that she cannot find names for. Too quickly, too soon, too fleeting. Her heart constricts around the rose vines that entwine it. For she would give anything to see those eyes sparkle with his smile again.. to wipe clean this nightmare; to never see the pain in them again.
Tell me how you are.
His kiss upon her cheek burns and burns, imprinting into tingles that drum like fingers on her skin. Dark lashes fall, her gaze drowning into blackness. Slumber pulls at her in tendrils, tempting her. Lulling her in silent lullabies. But she cannot, not yet. She only leans forward, slightly, not meaning to — but enough to stumble. Barely, she catches herself, wincing, heat shocking through her ruined wing. All she wanted was to be close to him. To hear his voice. He was here. With her. Asterion was here. That was all that mattered.
Aislinn couldn’t look at him; not with tears pin pricking the back of her eyes. ”I.. I don’t know. I don’t know how I am,” she cries, voice cracking.
Someone runs up to her, whispering, murmuring. Her crown tilts back as they bring a bottle to her lips; liquid fire dribbling down her throat. The blood in her veins buzzes, broiling, numb. She stands as still as she is able, her wings relaxed. Her body leaning sideways, tilted on a lazy hoof. Her muzzle reaches forward blindly, gently, searching for him. She grazes his cheek — or so she thinks with her eyes still shut — placing a kiss there. ”You came.. you came to see me.” A silver star falls from beneath a closed eye lid. A single tear that trails down the night sky of her skin.
One tear that held the weight of a thousand untold sobs as her walls crumble ever still.
@asterion ♡ -sobbing through boxes of tissues-
pretty much a doped up, exhausted Ash D: pulled from post-surgery experience for this one if it reads a little weird.
Not once, had she ever desired such things.
But then again, not once had her freedom been torn — literally — from her. Ripped clean with bones and teeth and plucked feathers. In that moment.. she was grounded. Bound and chained to the earth. She did not even know if she’d ever taste the bliss of swimming in Calligo’s stars again. Stars above, she could barely recall how she managed to arrive back at court. In the castle’s walls. In the infirmary. All she could remember is his teeth. The white-hot sear of bones snapping and flesh shredding open. Her blood splashed against a backdrop of white. The fingers of unconsciousness grasping her, pulling her into their abyss, their shadows.. so so unlike the darkness she reveled in. Nothing like Night’s eternal embrace.
Now, her mind swims on the cusp of unknowing. Her blood is buzzing; from what, she doesn’t know. Warmth trickles down her throat, tingling down her spine and legs and.. and her wings. Her wing.. she does not have the strength to look upon the wreckage. What is left and what is not. Even on this night, she has not realized that Calligo’s stardust no longer clings to her skin. It is as though the magic in her has been drained away — drained with each drop of her blood that has been spilled. She is broken. Utterly and completely broken.
With tender hands, she desperately searches for the emotions that wash over her skin. Sweats beads upon the midnight of her coat, and yet she shivers; for even though she had laid in the snow, for a countless amount of time.. she had never been so cold. Crystals of ice are sharp in her blood, her bones. Yet someone dribbles fire down her throat, beaconing her to drink. To take the pain away. If only she could sleep.. to fall into a dreamless slumber. To wake up in a kingdom made of twilight and fireflies and stars.
She could barely remember her own name through it all.
Aislinn.
The dull color of her eyes flare, brilliantly and blue through the sconce light, before fading to lackluster once more. Her ears flicker forward, lazily but enough, at the sound of her name. Velveteen lips curl, soft but sweet. ”Asterion,” she rasps. Her first words in hours. They found him. She watches him through the haze, noting the familiarity of that shining star upon his forehead. That beacon from which she will always find through the darkness. And his eyes.. they swim in galaxies of so many things that she cannot find names for. Too quickly, too soon, too fleeting. Her heart constricts around the rose vines that entwine it. For she would give anything to see those eyes sparkle with his smile again.. to wipe clean this nightmare; to never see the pain in them again.
Tell me how you are.
His kiss upon her cheek burns and burns, imprinting into tingles that drum like fingers on her skin. Dark lashes fall, her gaze drowning into blackness. Slumber pulls at her in tendrils, tempting her. Lulling her in silent lullabies. But she cannot, not yet. She only leans forward, slightly, not meaning to — but enough to stumble. Barely, she catches herself, wincing, heat shocking through her ruined wing. All she wanted was to be close to him. To hear his voice. He was here. With her. Asterion was here. That was all that mattered.
Aislinn couldn’t look at him; not with tears pin pricking the back of her eyes. ”I.. I don’t know. I don’t know how I am,” she cries, voice cracking.
Someone runs up to her, whispering, murmuring. Her crown tilts back as they bring a bottle to her lips; liquid fire dribbling down her throat. The blood in her veins buzzes, broiling, numb. She stands as still as she is able, her wings relaxed. Her body leaning sideways, tilted on a lazy hoof. Her muzzle reaches forward blindly, gently, searching for him. She grazes his cheek — or so she thinks with her eyes still shut — placing a kiss there. ”You came.. you came to see me.” A silver star falls from beneath a closed eye lid. A single tear that trails down the night sky of her skin.
One tear that held the weight of a thousand untold sobs as her walls crumble ever still.
@asterion ♡ -sobbing through boxes of tissues-
pretty much a doped up, exhausted Ash D: pulled from post-surgery experience for this one if it reads a little weird.
