and bury it before it buries me
Hyaline had not always been ruled by Kensa (and that it no longer is, well, there is something to be said.) It was once the place of Lost Boys and children. It was a domain for youth, with their Peter Pan hearts and invigorated smiles. Amet had taken his boys there and there they had ruled, with wooden swords and shields made of paper. It had been a place for the lost boys, for the children.
Elea thought about this later when she learned of it, and maybe that is why Hyaline had called to her so, because it had once belonged to the hearts of orphans.
Of course, even orphans grow up.
Hyaline grew with the surrounding atmosphere, changed and developed. Soon the lost children were forgotten. But the legend still breathed, in distant tales and quiet whispers. It leaped from mountain peak to mountain peak, and weaved through canyons.
Elena has always loved a good story. Despite everything Elena has faced, there is still a singing in her heart (of old hymns and gentle lullabies.)
She has come to see the grand tree.
The day is rainy, holding a chill that makes Elena’s bones ache. The clouds hang like forlorn photographs of forgotten grays and bruised whites against the mottled canvas of the veiled sky. A growling storm murmurs below the still of the oddly muffled silence. She feels the gloom of this lonely day as if she drowns in it, beneath the sluggish lull of gray and listless clouds. Her silver blue eyes reflect the drizzle of the rain. The glass drops tremble down her golden skin, clinging to those graceful curves and soft muscle. Her eyes are quiet, glimmering with a soft, icy light. It smells like something she recognizes for a moment. Lavender, river, sunshine. Out here. A faint smile tugs at her lips.
“Hello there,” she says with something soft clutched in her lungs. Blue eyes look up at the beauty of it all, and for a moment she is taken back to Hyaline, on a clear starry night, with Lilli clutched closely to her. And she is swept away in the gold that sits at her feet and is amongst a golden meadow, Marcelo placing a reassuring touch upon her shoulder. The flowers are not against the tree, but are being lovingly placed in the silver mane of her cousin. And the way the glass shines, she thinks she can see the great waterfalls of Windskeep, and her family, swimming in the sparkling depths of the lake.
“Can I please go swimming?”
“Ask your mother.”
“Mommy, can I go swimming?”
“Together, we’ll go together.”
These moments of happiness collide together and Elena’s hearts spills over like ocean against a ship. She bows her head and closes her eyes. “Thank you for coming.”
And the clouds part.
There is sun.
Elea thought about this later when she learned of it, and maybe that is why Hyaline had called to her so, because it had once belonged to the hearts of orphans.
Of course, even orphans grow up.
Hyaline grew with the surrounding atmosphere, changed and developed. Soon the lost children were forgotten. But the legend still breathed, in distant tales and quiet whispers. It leaped from mountain peak to mountain peak, and weaved through canyons.
Elena has always loved a good story. Despite everything Elena has faced, there is still a singing in her heart (of old hymns and gentle lullabies.)
She has come to see the grand tree.
The day is rainy, holding a chill that makes Elena’s bones ache. The clouds hang like forlorn photographs of forgotten grays and bruised whites against the mottled canvas of the veiled sky. A growling storm murmurs below the still of the oddly muffled silence. She feels the gloom of this lonely day as if she drowns in it, beneath the sluggish lull of gray and listless clouds. Her silver blue eyes reflect the drizzle of the rain. The glass drops tremble down her golden skin, clinging to those graceful curves and soft muscle. Her eyes are quiet, glimmering with a soft, icy light. It smells like something she recognizes for a moment. Lavender, river, sunshine. Out here. A faint smile tugs at her lips.
“Hello there,” she says with something soft clutched in her lungs. Blue eyes look up at the beauty of it all, and for a moment she is taken back to Hyaline, on a clear starry night, with Lilli clutched closely to her. And she is swept away in the gold that sits at her feet and is amongst a golden meadow, Marcelo placing a reassuring touch upon her shoulder. The flowers are not against the tree, but are being lovingly placed in the silver mane of her cousin. And the way the glass shines, she thinks she can see the great waterfalls of Windskeep, and her family, swimming in the sparkling depths of the lake.
“Can I please go swimming?”
“Ask your mother.”
“Mommy, can I go swimming?”
“Together, we’ll go together.”
These moments of happiness collide together and Elena’s hearts spills over like ocean against a ship. She bows her head and closes her eyes. “Thank you for coming.”
And the clouds part.
There is sun.
so take away this apathy
bury it before it buries me
@Random Events
***STAFF EDIT
@Sam has been sent +100 signos!
@
![[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
