Maea
Rest against my pillow
like the aging winter sun
like the aging winter sun
It is peaceful in death. All sense of time floats away, leaving only tranquility. Even to one who had made up her mind on wanting to return, that desire was muted and fleeting. An inclination, rather than a need, that seemed more trivial and less driving as that peace sank deeper into her being.
She did linger in a state of waiting, however. Perhaps it was the song, and her patient coaxing for the rest of those lyrics to spring to mind that kept her from following after her brother. Perhaps it was faith. A knowledge stemming from trust that told her that Remi would respond, if he could. She had only asked for his help once or twice in the past but those had been rewarded with more than satisfactory aid, and she didn't see why this would be any different. If he could, he would answer. And if he could not... then at least she had left some kind of trace behind. Some hint of will to return that proved it hadn't been a choice, no easy way out, no surrender on her part to the struggles and pain that everyone went through in life at some point.
She waited. And then, as if to reward her faith and her patience, she felt something pull on her. A golden light secured to some place just beneath her navel drew her backwards, in on herself, through, somehow. A memory of pain spring up, and a stab of fear left her fighting that pull for a moment.
"... and no more regret," Noah's voice seemed to whisper, gentle and reassuring - and with a sigh, Maea gave in, and stopped fighting. All at once the meadow faded, light brightened into a singular point that swallowed up all else...
... and when it faded, a confusing barrage of sensations came rushing at her like a raging tide. Pain. There was so much pain. A slamming weight in her chest that might be the heart restarting, buzzing, humming noises of blood and churning organs within her ears, almost drowning out the steady, off-rhythm beat of some other drum, some other heart beating through a palm pressed to a cheek that no longer felt quite so cold.
And around the arrow wounds, blood that had begun to crust up started to flow all over again, spilling that precious life right back out onto the pavement. Maea groaned, a faint whimper of wordless agony that was mirrored in her eyes as eyelids once shut in reverence fluttered open. Slowly, that pain faded. Perhaps it had only been the expectation of pain, or by some magic she was healing already. It didn't matter.
She was back. She was back. She was back.
She did linger in a state of waiting, however. Perhaps it was the song, and her patient coaxing for the rest of those lyrics to spring to mind that kept her from following after her brother. Perhaps it was faith. A knowledge stemming from trust that told her that Remi would respond, if he could. She had only asked for his help once or twice in the past but those had been rewarded with more than satisfactory aid, and she didn't see why this would be any different. If he could, he would answer. And if he could not... then at least she had left some kind of trace behind. Some hint of will to return that proved it hadn't been a choice, no easy way out, no surrender on her part to the struggles and pain that everyone went through in life at some point.
She waited. And then, as if to reward her faith and her patience, she felt something pull on her. A golden light secured to some place just beneath her navel drew her backwards, in on herself, through, somehow. A memory of pain spring up, and a stab of fear left her fighting that pull for a moment.
"... and no more regret," Noah's voice seemed to whisper, gentle and reassuring - and with a sigh, Maea gave in, and stopped fighting. All at once the meadow faded, light brightened into a singular point that swallowed up all else...
... and when it faded, a confusing barrage of sensations came rushing at her like a raging tide. Pain. There was so much pain. A slamming weight in her chest that might be the heart restarting, buzzing, humming noises of blood and churning organs within her ears, almost drowning out the steady, off-rhythm beat of some other drum, some other heart beating through a palm pressed to a cheek that no longer felt quite so cold.
And around the arrow wounds, blood that had begun to crust up started to flow all over again, spilling that precious life right back out onto the pavement. Maea groaned, a faint whimper of wordless agony that was mirrored in her eyes as eyelids once shut in reverence fluttered open. Slowly, that pain faded. Perhaps it had only been the expectation of pain, or by some magic she was healing already. It didn't matter.
She was back. She was back. She was back.
Only wake each morning to
remember that you're gone
remember that you're gone
