MAEA
Beneath the surface of smiles and compliance, beneath the ever swirling torrent of thoughts and memories - beneath even the grief that had become like a cornerstone of her being and saturated through everything she did - ran an undercurrent of fear in the young woman known as Maea Valair. It laced through her thoughts and actions much in the same way as the sorrow and affected the decisions she made, from the near obsessive need to stay out of her own head to the occasional excursions she made into the Wilds. Away from the Hollowed Grounds, to be precise. Far too many years behind that barrier had left wounds in her soul, and they sometimes startled even her with how deep they ran.
A creature without a need to breathe shouldn't really fear suffocation, yet that was exactly the sensation that came over her on some days. No matter that the sky was high and blue or that the world had become draped in white from horizon to horizon; the only thing that soothed that itch deep in her soul was to run as far away from her old prison as she could come. But perhaps this had not been the most optimal of choices to linger in. As she slowed her steps from a flat out sprint that strained her body and endurance to the limits, into a pensive meandering, Maea got the feeling that the rolling hills and the tombs she found were not very welcoming of visitors. Her brother's recount of his adventure within one of the tombs made her stay well clear of the doors and braved the high arching mounds instead. Roving from one to another, she made a point of cresting each peak and look around, surveying the landscape as if it would be possible to memorize it.
It came as a complete surprise to her when, upon mounting a smaller hillock, the ground suddenly gave way beneath her feet. In a rumble of collapsing stones Maea tumbled into the dark burial chamber beneath, showered by a veritable landslide of soil and snow that all but buried her in a heavy blanket. Coughing and spitting to clear her orifices, she swore softly to herself upon noticing that she was quite stuck.
A creature without a need to breathe shouldn't really fear suffocation, yet that was exactly the sensation that came over her on some days. No matter that the sky was high and blue or that the world had become draped in white from horizon to horizon; the only thing that soothed that itch deep in her soul was to run as far away from her old prison as she could come. But perhaps this had not been the most optimal of choices to linger in. As she slowed her steps from a flat out sprint that strained her body and endurance to the limits, into a pensive meandering, Maea got the feeling that the rolling hills and the tombs she found were not very welcoming of visitors. Her brother's recount of his adventure within one of the tombs made her stay well clear of the doors and braved the high arching mounds instead. Roving from one to another, she made a point of cresting each peak and look around, surveying the landscape as if it would be possible to memorize it.
It came as a complete surprise to her when, upon mounting a smaller hillock, the ground suddenly gave way beneath her feet. In a rumble of collapsing stones Maea tumbled into the dark burial chamber beneath, showered by a veritable landslide of soil and snow that all but buried her in a heavy blanket. Coughing and spitting to clear her orifices, she swore softly to herself upon noticing that she was quite stuck.
Isn't it lovely, all alone?
Heart made of glass, my mind of stone
Heart made of glass, my mind of stone
