With no one wearing their real face It's a whiteout of emotion
Night lay against the sands of the desert, forcing dry heat to flee unto the blazing stars like vagabonds returning home. What remained near the bonestrewn plain was a deep cold, the kind that settled between bone and marrow and refused to leave. Colder than death, and more dangerous - at least for the small figure that roamed the dunes, with only her armour to ward against the chilling wind. Turn to stone here and she could be left standing for ages, a statue for wind and sand to slowly erode into dust. Would the heat of the sun be enough to thaw her out once dawn broke, or did it indeed have to be fire that did it? Maea suspected the latter to be the case.
Over her head, a sliver of moon offered next to no light, only the vague sense of delineation where sky and earth met. By its position she judged it had been two or three hours since the sun disappeared; all light had gone from the western horizon, and none had yet to appear in the east. Midnight, then, or slightly after - this was where her trial would truly begin. To survive one night with armor and abilities alone - she had left the chakram at home to prevent temptation and habit from kicking in - would indeed be a challenge, and one she faced gladly, if through chattering teeth.
Ahead, a paler shade of black had been drawing her in. The closer she got, the more intentional it seemed - built, with structure and intent - and now that she was almost there, Maea recognised the bone shrine to Ludo and Mort.
She walked around it slowly, picking out details of bleached bone and hollowed sockets before darkness snatched them away. Wind whipped her pale hair into her eyes; she found a nook to shelter from it and hunched low, her dark skirts pooling around her feet. Found that the history she had in this desert, at this shrine, no longer weighed on her like it once did. To think that she had been so near to putting all that she was into a bottle and throw it in the sea, or bury it under oaktree roots like some cursed genie in the bottle.
"I'm glad we never made that deal," she told a grinning elk skull prominent in the wall beside her, in a murmured confession between friends. "Can you imagine having a whole life flooding back in, after building up an entirely different life?" Not to mention the insult to those who knew her, to be erased and ghosted –
She sighed, blowing pale sand into the night. "I should still like to be friends with Ludo, even if I am a child of Dygra now. Next time though, I'll make sure to bring gifts. Maybe we can play a game..." She hoped it would like that.
Rising to move on as the bite of cold air grew painful, the woman rummaged through her pockets and uncovered a small bird skull she had found earlier. Fragile and alone, she felt it should stay here where it could be closer to company; tucking it in beside the elk skull, she hoped the wind wouldn't blow it away from there.
Over her head, a sliver of moon offered next to no light, only the vague sense of delineation where sky and earth met. By its position she judged it had been two or three hours since the sun disappeared; all light had gone from the western horizon, and none had yet to appear in the east. Midnight, then, or slightly after - this was where her trial would truly begin. To survive one night with armor and abilities alone - she had left the chakram at home to prevent temptation and habit from kicking in - would indeed be a challenge, and one she faced gladly, if through chattering teeth.
Ahead, a paler shade of black had been drawing her in. The closer she got, the more intentional it seemed - built, with structure and intent - and now that she was almost there, Maea recognised the bone shrine to Ludo and Mort.
She walked around it slowly, picking out details of bleached bone and hollowed sockets before darkness snatched them away. Wind whipped her pale hair into her eyes; she found a nook to shelter from it and hunched low, her dark skirts pooling around her feet. Found that the history she had in this desert, at this shrine, no longer weighed on her like it once did. To think that she had been so near to putting all that she was into a bottle and throw it in the sea, or bury it under oaktree roots like some cursed genie in the bottle.
"I'm glad we never made that deal," she told a grinning elk skull prominent in the wall beside her, in a murmured confession between friends. "Can you imagine having a whole life flooding back in, after building up an entirely different life?" Not to mention the insult to those who knew her, to be erased and ghosted –
She sighed, blowing pale sand into the night. "I should still like to be friends with Ludo, even if I am a child of Dygra now. Next time though, I'll make sure to bring gifts. Maybe we can play a game..." She hoped it would like that.
Rising to move on as the bite of cold air grew painful, the woman rummaged through her pockets and uncovered a small bird skull she had found earlier. Fragile and alone, she felt it should stay here where it could be closer to company; tucking it in beside the elk skull, she hoped the wind wouldn't blow it away from there.
And I've only got my brittle bones to break the fall
Maea
