striking matches to watch 'em burn
The temple was damned, it was the first time she'd visited the place since she'd left it fixed up and new for Longnight. It'd failed, left it's inhabitants tormented and those who hadn't made it inside fucked. The precious door was just a machine of the gods, more than they'd bargained for, death for the queen and a boy. Aisha had no love for The Voice, but the Ascended she adored. They were not their mother, and they had suffered for her failures.
For her failures, or at least that'd what Aisha's brain kept nagging her with. That somehow she was responsible, that she hadn't done enough. And it was with that pained thought in mind that she wandered the sanctuary today, cleaning up debris and piling things neatly where she could. Her eyes passed over a man, carrying with him a score of books. She'd never met him before, though there were many she hadn't. Some she never would.
For her failures, or at least that'd what Aisha's brain kept nagging her with. That somehow she was responsible, that she hadn't done enough. And it was with that pained thought in mind that she wandered the sanctuary today, cleaning up debris and piling things neatly where she could. Her eyes passed over a man, carrying with him a score of books. She'd never met him before, though there were many she hadn't. Some she never would.
little seed, every bud blooms
AISHA
