It's Lord of the Flies in my mind tonight
Will it ever be enough?
Maybe. One day. She’s slowly learning that she can’t help those who won’t help themselves, she can’t control everything and in fact, she may be able to control very little other than her own actions. The Gods will do what they want, people will think what they want and in the end she’s accountable to no one but herself and the Voice. Maybe her siblings. Maybe. She nods silently in understanding and lets it rest at that.
The picture Aurelia paints of her home world is unexpectedly bleak. The Natural is well aware by now that each world has its own problems, but needing to build underground seems a terrible punishment that she can only begin to imagine. To not see the sky? The stars. If her eyes grow wide, it’s because she is trying to empathize with the Outlanders and… to an extent, she can.
“Mine was… similar, in a way. I grew up in the Grounds. Back then it had a magical barrier over it and nothing could go in or out. Over the centuries that really fucked up our weather patterns, our agriculture, and ultimately our health.” Inbreeding, disease, storms, mutations - you name it, they had it. “The heralds were trapped in there with us, but they didn’t really do shit to help. My family died of a sickness they just… wasted away from. The fields were overworked and lean. The animals were mutating. Every LongNight brought certain death for part of our community. Like you… we existed.”
And now that they're out, war looms on the horizon. What a fuckingly cruel twist of fate.
Maybe. One day. She’s slowly learning that she can’t help those who won’t help themselves, she can’t control everything and in fact, she may be able to control very little other than her own actions. The Gods will do what they want, people will think what they want and in the end she’s accountable to no one but herself and the Voice. Maybe her siblings. Maybe. She nods silently in understanding and lets it rest at that.
The picture Aurelia paints of her home world is unexpectedly bleak. The Natural is well aware by now that each world has its own problems, but needing to build underground seems a terrible punishment that she can only begin to imagine. To not see the sky? The stars. If her eyes grow wide, it’s because she is trying to empathize with the Outlanders and… to an extent, she can.
“Mine was… similar, in a way. I grew up in the Grounds. Back then it had a magical barrier over it and nothing could go in or out. Over the centuries that really fucked up our weather patterns, our agriculture, and ultimately our health.” Inbreeding, disease, storms, mutations - you name it, they had it. “The heralds were trapped in there with us, but they didn’t really do shit to help. My family died of a sickness they just… wasted away from. The fields were overworked and lean. The animals were mutating. Every LongNight brought certain death for part of our community. Like you… we existed.”
And now that they're out, war looms on the horizon. What a fuckingly cruel twist of fate.
