Lena
// what is to give light must endure burning //
Zavien’s letter, and the broadcast, had left her in an uneasy, sleepless, and unsettled platitude for days on end. Lena wasn’t one to let her disquiet perturb or disturb her occupation though, and so she spent much of the hours tending to anything and everything within the Celestine, letting the role supersede any other entangling motions war across her mind. Gardens were given care. Animals were mended, fed, watered, medicated; round and round she went with an endless preamble on her mind to cease the rest of the nervous indulgences threatening to cloud her horizons. Zavien would come back, as he’d said, and all would be well.
But Sol’s antics persisted, a little better in some hours, and returning home left her with more questions than answers. There too, she worked; a tireless machine of solitude and perseverance down to her bones. Sometimes she baked. Sometimes she cleaned. Sometimes she maneuvered and stretched and did it all again until the routine wore right at her edges, meandering across Plazas and shopping and trying to pretend normalcy echoed at her fringes. But patience was a virtue and she knew of those too. She could breathe and she could walk and run and force pretenses across every smile.
The morning beckoned, and she flocked about in her own yard; enjoying the winter sun and watching as both snowball and dragon basked in it – perhaps the latter as best he could, still without his bonded. Pulling and tugging at unrelenting weeds gave her some satisfaction, forming a neat pile by her favorite bench, while starting the inevitable wait once more.
But Sol’s antics persisted, a little better in some hours, and returning home left her with more questions than answers. There too, she worked; a tireless machine of solitude and perseverance down to her bones. Sometimes she baked. Sometimes she cleaned. Sometimes she maneuvered and stretched and did it all again until the routine wore right at her edges, meandering across Plazas and shopping and trying to pretend normalcy echoed at her fringes. But patience was a virtue and she knew of those too. She could breathe and she could walk and run and force pretenses across every smile.
The morning beckoned, and she flocked about in her own yard; enjoying the winter sun and watching as both snowball and dragon basked in it – perhaps the latter as best he could, still without his bonded. Pulling and tugging at unrelenting weeds gave her some satisfaction, forming a neat pile by her favorite bench, while starting the inevitable wait once more.
