WESSEX
the wraith
she tied you to her kitchen chair
she broke your throne and she cut your hair
she broke your throne and she cut your hair
“Then you know,” Wessex posits, the smile returning again, unbidden, as she ducks her head in an unexpectedly girlish way. At this point thewhat-ifs are all they’re ever likely to be, unless they manage to skip past the War part of their future. The Wraith knows this. Everyone knows this - there are no happy endings here, even for the victors.
Some days the cost feels light; something the demigod can easily carry for as long as she needs to, and other days the cost is a lead ghost whale, come to take her by the feet and drag her down, down, down, into the depths of the horrors of immortality. That darkness, that spiral, the approaching war, it’s all too much to think about and yet it’s all she thinks about.
Gods, she just wants to live! For a little bit, as if nothing is happening.
“Ok. Sure,” she hears herself saying, then standing and dusting her butt off and looking to Sunjata expectantly. He’s the only one of them who's done this before. She'll follow his lead.
Some days the cost feels light; something the demigod can easily carry for as long as she needs to, and other days the cost is a lead ghost whale, come to take her by the feet and drag her down, down, down, into the depths of the horrors of immortality. That darkness, that spiral, the approaching war, it’s all too much to think about and yet it’s all she thinks about.
Gods, she just wants to live! For a little bit, as if nothing is happening.
“Ok. Sure,” she hears herself saying, then standing and dusting her butt off and looking to Sunjata expectantly. He’s the only one of them who's done this before. She'll follow his lead.
and from your lips she drew
the hallelujah
the hallelujah
