Aurelia
these nightmares all bend
silver linings are all i need
silver linings are all i need
Aurelia saw his sword coming too late.
The dull thud of the practice blade hitting her ribs sent a wave of pain through her side, and this time, it stopped her cold. She gasped, backing away instinctively, feeling the weight of the fight settle heavily on her shoulders. Her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath, but something deeper gnawed at her—something that wasn’t just physical exhaustion.
Deimos had barely broken a sweat, his movements fluid, controlled. Every attempt she’d made to outthink or outmaneuver him had fallen flat. Clever tricks, feints, even trying to predict his movements—it hadn’t worked. He’d seen everything coming, and each strike felt like a reminder of just how outmatched she was.
She stepped back again, lowering her sword.
It wasn’t hesitation. It wasn’t a ploy or a moment of recalculating her strategy.
It was surrender.
“I can’t,” she panted, “I can’t keep up with you.”
Her gaze fell to the ground, the sting of admitting defeat bitter on her tongue, but there was no denying the truth of it. She wasn’t ready for this. Not yet. Not by a long shot.
“I thought if I just tried harder, if I kept pushing, I’d eventually get there. But no matter what I do, I can’t—” She stopped herself, teeth gritted against the wave of frustration that threatened to boil over. "What am I supposed to do?” she asked, her voice quieter now, almost defeated. “Keep failing until it makes sense?”
The dull thud of the practice blade hitting her ribs sent a wave of pain through her side, and this time, it stopped her cold. She gasped, backing away instinctively, feeling the weight of the fight settle heavily on her shoulders. Her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath, but something deeper gnawed at her—something that wasn’t just physical exhaustion.
Deimos had barely broken a sweat, his movements fluid, controlled. Every attempt she’d made to outthink or outmaneuver him had fallen flat. Clever tricks, feints, even trying to predict his movements—it hadn’t worked. He’d seen everything coming, and each strike felt like a reminder of just how outmatched she was.
She stepped back again, lowering her sword.
It wasn’t hesitation. It wasn’t a ploy or a moment of recalculating her strategy.
It was surrender.
“I can’t,” she panted, “I can’t keep up with you.”
Her gaze fell to the ground, the sting of admitting defeat bitter on her tongue, but there was no denying the truth of it. She wasn’t ready for this. Not yet. Not by a long shot.
“I thought if I just tried harder, if I kept pushing, I’d eventually get there. But no matter what I do, I can’t—” She stopped herself, teeth gritted against the wave of frustration that threatened to boil over. "What am I supposed to do?” she asked, her voice quieter now, almost defeated. “Keep failing until it makes sense?”
so please just hold onto me
these demons, they're old to me
these demons, they're old to me
