I wanna taste love and pain, I wanna feel pride and shame
I grin at his remark, my thoughts drifting to real rainy nights and warm fires—when I was small enough to curl into my mother’s side and listen to stories of real people told like legends. I used to hang on every word, never realizing how recent some of those tales were. And now, looking at him, I wonder if he’s becoming one of them—the way people talk about him.
I think about the life I lived with my parents. They taught me how to survive, how to move fast, fight harder, keep my footing no matter what. I know how to defend myself, sure. But the rest of it—the living part, the messy, emotional, deeply human part—I think they struggled to pass that on. Not that I’d admit that aloud. People already look at me like some strange little fish that’s flopped its way onto the deck. No sense confirming it.
“It definitely keeps me alive,” I agree, my voice lighter. “They started me when I was like four. Blunt stuff, but still.”
I tilt my head toward the stone jutting out of the ground, and then crook a grin up at him. “Start a garden on the Ark and you’ll have a defense no other skyship has.” I’m mostly joking—but not entirely. Who knows how deep this magic runs?
“What other kinds of magic do you have, anyway?” I ask, curiosity warming my words. “I always hoped I’d get magic. Never happened.” The admission leaves my lips easily, not quite a wound, but maybe a want that never went away.
I think about the life I lived with my parents. They taught me how to survive, how to move fast, fight harder, keep my footing no matter what. I know how to defend myself, sure. But the rest of it—the living part, the messy, emotional, deeply human part—I think they struggled to pass that on. Not that I’d admit that aloud. People already look at me like some strange little fish that’s flopped its way onto the deck. No sense confirming it.
“It definitely keeps me alive,” I agree, my voice lighter. “They started me when I was like four. Blunt stuff, but still.”
I tilt my head toward the stone jutting out of the ground, and then crook a grin up at him. “Start a garden on the Ark and you’ll have a defense no other skyship has.” I’m mostly joking—but not entirely. Who knows how deep this magic runs?
“What other kinds of magic do you have, anyway?” I ask, curiosity warming my words. “I always hoped I’d get magic. Never happened.” The admission leaves my lips easily, not quite a wound, but maybe a want that never went away.
Theea
I don't wanna take my time, I don't wanna waste one line
