WESSEX
The days grow longer and the nights grow shorter. Like any other Ascended, she is slightly weaker during the summer, but these days it is significantly less than it was last year. It must be that aging thing the Voice was talking about. Wessex still wears her cloak for protection, but one might see her out and about during the day more often - when she isn’t busy in Halo, that is. If she were still Accepted, if the world had not imploded a scant two years ago, she might have found herself sitting on a tree stump, telling children about the Capture the Sun myth. At 40 years, she’s older than half the population and has lived longer than many of their parents have. So it would have been her job to pass on lessons and information - even customs that are not originally theirs.
This year… there are significantly fewer children, and none of them are being sent to her to learn. There were so many small bodies in the mud... Even if Wessex had wanted to teach the kids, had felt an obligation to perform ‘elder’ duties - they’re at home - recovering, mourning, kept close by parents who can’t bear to let them out of their sight for longer than necessary, because they know, how lucky they are and don’t want to tempt fate again.
With every passing season, the Grounds feels less and less like her home. The Naturals know her, but they fear and respect her - there’s nothing she would really call love, maybe just a preference for her over the Outlanders. Sitting on a tree stump, in a flattened area in the Outskirts, Wessex is silent - thinking about their world and how it’s changed. No ‘Catching the Sun’ will ever change what happened with Safrin and Ronin in the Temple. Or fix Amalia’s legs.
No, I’ll be the stone
I’ll be the hunter, a tower that casts the shade
I lie awake and watch it all
I’ll be the hunter, a tower that casts the shade
I lie awake and watch it all
