The quiet, singing voice of the rose.
If it had been anyone else, Thal probably would have growled and slapped their hand away, trying to preserve some semblance of power. But this was Hadama. He had never made her feel less than or insignificant. He'd taken time to help her with menial tasks, to freely give compliments on her abilities, and to follow her to the depths of the Tar Pits, just to heal her. She didn't want to push him away.
"I -" She tried to find the words. I know? I failed? I deserved it? Nothing seemed to fit. The man was right, but it still felt wrong to agree. It may have been the correct decision, but all it did was highlight the fact that she was weak. That she couldn't even take a single hit without nearly losing her life. That her confidence and strength were all a facade, and she couldn't even keep up the illusion. She wanted to tell him that her life wasn't worth anything, so how could the 'cost' have been too high? But the fact that he was kneeled before her in the blackness of the Feverlands said enough about his opinion on the matter to keep her mouth shut. He obviously saw something worth the time and effort.
So Thal sat in silence for some time, letting her thoughts flit between one topic or another. Yet every time they came back to Maea. She'd been so close to feeling like she could embrace who she really was with her, but then everything had slipped between her fingers. The words came through the haze, like Hadama's calming presence was enough to coax them forward. "Maea is gone. Dead or not, I can't find her. She was one of the only people willing to help me look into my past, and I pushed her away." Her hands squeezed together subconsciously, turning them white then red as she manipulated the blood flow. "After Starfall, I was lost, but she was like an anchor. So certain. So honest." The words were soft like a eulogy for no one but herself. "I thought we could really be friends." It sounded pitiful coming from her lips. Her head shook and a choked laugh escaped with her next words. "But then I went and screwed it up, letting my greed compromise her safety. And then she - she -" Thal's eyes squinted closed, trying to deny the truth.
After another moment of numbness, she finally looked up at Hadama, tears lining the vibrant blue of her eyes, despair evident in them. "I don't know what to do now."
"I -" She tried to find the words. I know? I failed? I deserved it? Nothing seemed to fit. The man was right, but it still felt wrong to agree. It may have been the correct decision, but all it did was highlight the fact that she was weak. That she couldn't even take a single hit without nearly losing her life. That her confidence and strength were all a facade, and she couldn't even keep up the illusion. She wanted to tell him that her life wasn't worth anything, so how could the 'cost' have been too high? But the fact that he was kneeled before her in the blackness of the Feverlands said enough about his opinion on the matter to keep her mouth shut. He obviously saw something worth the time and effort.
So Thal sat in silence for some time, letting her thoughts flit between one topic or another. Yet every time they came back to Maea. She'd been so close to feeling like she could embrace who she really was with her, but then everything had slipped between her fingers. The words came through the haze, like Hadama's calming presence was enough to coax them forward. "Maea is gone. Dead or not, I can't find her. She was one of the only people willing to help me look into my past, and I pushed her away." Her hands squeezed together subconsciously, turning them white then red as she manipulated the blood flow. "After Starfall, I was lost, but she was like an anchor. So certain. So honest." The words were soft like a eulogy for no one but herself. "I thought we could really be friends." It sounded pitiful coming from her lips. Her head shook and a choked laugh escaped with her next words. "But then I went and screwed it up, letting my greed compromise her safety. And then she - she -" Thal's eyes squinted closed, trying to deny the truth.
After another moment of numbness, she finally looked up at Hadama, tears lining the vibrant blue of her eyes, despair evident in them. "I don't know what to do now."
The song that promised all might be well,
all might be well,
that all manner of things might be well.
all might be well,
that all manner of things might be well.
Thalassa
