You won't go lonely into this fight, if you just hold me we will survive
If she hadn’t known before, she knows now. Immediately better understands the hurt behind the name, the sting of a blade thrust back into your chest when you’d offered it handle first for them to use in their own defense. There is no pity in her gaze as Wessex presses a cool kiss to the fine bones of her hand, only a deep sympathy and understanding. “The closer we hold people, the more power we give them to hurt us. Is there any chance it was said in the heat of the moment?” Far from making excuses for the unnamed Ascended, it is instead a doorway for Wessex to try and be free of the weight she is carrying.
It shouldn’t surprise her that Kiada has shared stories of their lives in Helovia with Wessex, but her mind recoils from it all the same. A life she has never shared with those who had not already been present to witness it. A secret kept tightly locked and vaulted far away from the comparatively innocent eyes of those in Caido. She had told Sunjata, once. And he had seemingly taken every vulnerable piece of information and crafted it intentionally to shatter her at every straining seam. It’s a terror worse than she has ever known to be asked in such a straightforward way, and it’s clear in the widening of her eyes, the temporary flash of fear and vulnerability that is swiftly hidden in the turn of her face to the horizon, the veil of blonde hair against her temple. At least there’s a way to answer without revealing those weaknesses. A different side of the story to tell. “One where I stole for the thrill of it. For the power it gave me, long before I ever used it to bolster my soldiers. Where I manipulated the fools, the innocent, the helpless; earned their trust and then burned their kingdoms down after they let me through the gates.” Two such occasions, really. “Where I killed those who challenged me for my crown. Killed more on behalf of allies in wars I had no further stake in. Where I loved a Goddess enough to follow her word, concealing evidence of a killer she puppeted so he may continue his spree. A spree that would include my parents.”
Their bodies would haunt her forever, and still she had not hesitated to destroy the evidence left behind. Still she would believe in the words of her Goddess, saying it was necessary. A greater good that she would refuse to explain. “And still I would defend her. Love her. Worship her. Until I saw her ripped apart by another God - one who murdered my children and leagues of citizens, and whose portals would keep me from their remains.” Her voice goes dead and cold at the end, each step seemingly robotic. Is it any surprise then that she does not pursue the lady of the night here? That The Voice terrifies her? With all she has lost, trust is something she can never summon again.
It shouldn’t surprise her that Kiada has shared stories of their lives in Helovia with Wessex, but her mind recoils from it all the same. A life she has never shared with those who had not already been present to witness it. A secret kept tightly locked and vaulted far away from the comparatively innocent eyes of those in Caido. She had told Sunjata, once. And he had seemingly taken every vulnerable piece of information and crafted it intentionally to shatter her at every straining seam. It’s a terror worse than she has ever known to be asked in such a straightforward way, and it’s clear in the widening of her eyes, the temporary flash of fear and vulnerability that is swiftly hidden in the turn of her face to the horizon, the veil of blonde hair against her temple. At least there’s a way to answer without revealing those weaknesses. A different side of the story to tell. “One where I stole for the thrill of it. For the power it gave me, long before I ever used it to bolster my soldiers. Where I manipulated the fools, the innocent, the helpless; earned their trust and then burned their kingdoms down after they let me through the gates.” Two such occasions, really. “Where I killed those who challenged me for my crown. Killed more on behalf of allies in wars I had no further stake in. Where I loved a Goddess enough to follow her word, concealing evidence of a killer she puppeted so he may continue his spree. A spree that would include my parents.”
Their bodies would haunt her forever, and still she had not hesitated to destroy the evidence left behind. Still she would believe in the words of her Goddess, saying it was necessary. A greater good that she would refuse to explain. “And still I would defend her. Love her. Worship her. Until I saw her ripped apart by another God - one who murdered my children and leagues of citizens, and whose portals would keep me from their remains.” Her voice goes dead and cold at the end, each step seemingly robotic. Is it any surprise then that she does not pursue the lady of the night here? That The Voice terrifies her? With all she has lost, trust is something she can never summon again.
