Aurelia
hear those bells ring deep in the soul
chiming away for a moment
chiming away for a moment
They have to go. It's a glaring, echoing fact in her mind. Like a cornered animal, she feels nothing but a need to escape, to flee into someplace where her pursuers will never find her. There's no rationale, no bitter edge sharpened toward vengeance of her own for being attacked.
She never wanted any of it. But what she did? That's what justice looks like, and it always will. It's not something conjured up by fairy tales, inspiring the honorable hero toward some happy fucking ending. Real justice burns and it doesn't have mercy for how that feels.
She nearly died to deliver it, though - no, until Milo found her she was as good as dead. But here he is, running through the smoke to find her, pulling her back from the brink. She looks up at him with shaking focus, trying to hold onto him, but her fingers slip.
"The Slagveld... was attacked," she tries to explain but each word is a labor all in its own, "I had to stop them. They're after me. Milo, go," that last part alights a panic in her tones that makes her teeth grit together. She doesn't want him to, but she isn't going to drag him down with her. But he's pulling her against his chest, and she tries to fight it but it's to no avail.
"No.." It's less of a word and more of a reluctant groan filled with dismay. Her hands squeeze around his arms to push him back so she can't possibly slow him down but, there's no strength in it. Even with his healing, her nerves are shot. He's got her now.
She gives in, has to, and as she does she can feel the heaviness bearing down on her like a blanket. Her eyelids sink, senses dulled by the pound of her heartbeat. It matches the rhythm of his steps as he carries her through the smoke. For several minutes, she blinks in and out of consciousness.
She never wanted any of it. But what she did? That's what justice looks like, and it always will. It's not something conjured up by fairy tales, inspiring the honorable hero toward some happy fucking ending. Real justice burns and it doesn't have mercy for how that feels.
She nearly died to deliver it, though - no, until Milo found her she was as good as dead. But here he is, running through the smoke to find her, pulling her back from the brink. She looks up at him with shaking focus, trying to hold onto him, but her fingers slip.
"The Slagveld... was attacked," she tries to explain but each word is a labor all in its own, "I had to stop them. They're after me. Milo, go," that last part alights a panic in her tones that makes her teeth grit together. She doesn't want him to, but she isn't going to drag him down with her. But he's pulling her against his chest, and she tries to fight it but it's to no avail.
"No.." It's less of a word and more of a reluctant groan filled with dismay. Her hands squeeze around his arms to push him back so she can't possibly slow him down but, there's no strength in it. Even with his healing, her nerves are shot. He's got her now.
She gives in, has to, and as she does she can feel the heaviness bearing down on her like a blanket. Her eyelids sink, senses dulled by the pound of her heartbeat. It matches the rhythm of his steps as he carries her through the smoke. For several minutes, she blinks in and out of consciousness.
feel your breath course frankly below
see life as a worthy opponent
see life as a worthy opponent
