[Training] In the dark of the night

M  A   E    A I talked to God to no avail Said, "If you won't save me, please don't waste my time." If Melita had more arrows, then Maea would keep the two in her hand, to speed things up a bit. Much as this encounter had surprised her with its lack of unpleasantness, good things never lasted. Following the instructions, she nocked a new projectile and sent it flying; this time it just barely clipped the stone before bouncing off. The bow felt good in her hands. For such a quick work, the woman seemed to have skills in making weapons, as well as using them. Maea adjusted her stance again, but this time the arrow strayed to the left and missed, when too-sharp details distracted her eyes. She still wasn't used to seeing this clearly. "Hmpf. Perhaps, but where is the fun in that?" Maea's smirk was crooked and didn't reach her eyes. Again the play pretend; it didn't matter if one girl decided to hate her and ended this second lease on life. Perhaps prodding the lioness might even be entertaining, just to see what would happen.

Melita

they should have checked the ashes
of the women they burned alive

It’d be your funeral, then sparked and sizzled in the youth’s mind – but they all knew better. Very few were honored in death here, amongst and amidst a world that regularly saw life skewered and gone. “Fun for me, I suppose,” and she slipped a shrug into the nuance, as if it didn’t matter.

Except it did – and the whirlwind embers of her life catered to the impulsive, to the rash, to the impetuous, to the bitter bold; because some days all she had was herself.

Her eyes caught the wayward movements, the way she’d told her to aim with her eyes and apparently did none of that. A heavy sigh sauntered through her chest and she shook her head, placing the arrow she’d been intending to notch right back into the quiver. “Are you only looking at the top of it?” Her head tilted and then a snort rallied through, uncertain if it was irritation, exasperation, or everything else melded in between. “The center. That’s where you want to go. Everything else is easier after that.” Thereafter, on swift motions, the youth grabbed hold of the weapon again, aimed, and fired – the illustrious wake taking hold of the obsidian shadows and the moonlit decadence, and slamming into the rock’s massive middle once more.

because it takes a single wild ember
to bring a whole wildfire to life

M  A   E    A I talked to God to no avail Said, "If you won't save me, please don't waste my time." "Then at least someone gets a laugh." Bitterness crept through the words like choking vines, for all that Maea tried to sound nonchalant. Clenching her teeth together to keep from saying more - don't make this worse, fool - she swept a glare of annoyance towards Melia. As if the slip up was somehow her fault. Swallowing down the temptation to bite back - it was difficult to focus on any one thing, when everything stood out in such sharp detail - Maea fetched her arrows and tried again. The fun of this, if it ever had been fun, was beginning to wear off. Why was she playing at archery with a person she hardly knew, who didn't like her, and who kept making her insides feel like led? It was stupid. This was all stupid, and pointless. Irritation colored her movements as she raised the bow again and took aim. The draw back was brusque, and the twang of the string hummed too long and too loud in the air. A rock was a stupid target, too, and proved to be such when the arrow not only smacked straight into the center of it, but also snapped the wood of the shaft from the force. "My bad," Maea gritted out, and tried to pretend like she meant it. "I can replace that." She couldn't, but if it became an issue...

Melita

they should have checked the ashes
of the women they burned alive

Melita arched a brow at the residual tones of bitterness; but didn’t bother asking what the hell it was about. Maea’s rancor could’ve been directed at semblance after semblance, rumination after rumination, given her inclinations towards Sunjata and the rest of the token party. It wasn’t the youth’s responsibility to tend to the moods either; as mercurial and tempestuous as she was, perhaps Maea ought to have considered herself lucky that this training was even occurring. She tilted her head and sneered in return though, for the aforementioned glare. I could end you sang in between her eyes. With minimal ease, if savagery and the elemental haze in her quiver was anything to go by.

Unaware, and likely indifferent to the other modicums of Maea’s inward dilemmas, the honeybee watched as yet another volley sailed. At the very least she finally hit the center, but the arrow itself broke, snapped, leaving Melita to shrug. “It’s fine. I can make more.” Mere training implements and naught more; she’d snapped her own fair share. “At least you found the middle this time.” Improvements, and all that. She drew back hers again, cool and precise, and listened to the singsong ease as it whipped through the air, as it solidified a hushed decibel of prowess. Another promise to the Ascended, as it whistled and hit, pummeling boulders and then dropping off the surface.

because it takes a single wild ember
to bring a whole wildfire to life

M  A   E    A I talked to God to no avail Said, "If you won't save me, please don't waste my time." Luck had never favoured the pale woman. Most of it had been spent on an instance of survival and the passing favour of a god, all in vain. That this impromptu lesson would be anything more than a strange coincidence would have made her laugh, and not from joy. The challenge in amber eyes was met with bored indifference. If Melita cared enough to end an existence that mattered to no one, she was welcome to try. Apathy was a mire beneath the haze of her annoyance, where sentiments would sink and never be seen again. Not a hospitable place, even for someone who actually cared. "If you say so." If Melita would not fuss over an arrow, then the matter was moot and void. Using the one remaining projectile, Maea sighted down the shaft to the rock once more. This time she made a point of reining in her emotions; moments after the tigress arrow made its mark, so did the wraith strike true. In a contest of life and death, Maea would be only slightly lagging. As long as they kept to bow and arrows. "Good enough?" she questioned, and arched a brow at her reluctant instructor.

Melita

they should have checked the ashes
of the women they burned alive

If Melita was disappointed that Maea didn’t rise to her silent, emboldened challenge, then she didn’t show it. A flicker, a flare, of a glare, and nothing more. Attention dissipated to movement and motion of strings and strands thereafter, to watch in the pale glow of moonlight, to witness someone who once catered to the same herald, remain in the glimpse of a newer divinity. The youth nearly voiced, nearly wondered outloud, in some spiteful little venture, if Maea had been to see Ludo since. If there was some sentiment of betrayal in the foundations of survival again. If it even mattered in the end, when all of them, and each and every single individual, were just trying to stay alive as best they could.

The arrow hit, striking against the center, and the youth nodded. “Yes.” A satisfactory condition; the armament finding its place within Maea’s hand, and no residual guilt left in the honeybee’s frame. “Anything else?” That she wanted to try? Or was that enough, to pretend they were aligned for a singular moment?

because it takes a single wild ember
to bring a whole wildfire to life

M  A   E    A I talked to God to no avail Said, "If you won't save me, please don't waste my time." They were done, then. Good. This farse was not entertaining anymore, and Maea longed to continue her solitude. This dance of play pretend and passive aggressive half threats wore on her, until she felt aged and decrepid. She went to pick up the arrows - the one that had gone astray, the one that had made its mark, and the splinters of the broken. Holding the broken pieces, the question made her pause. Anything else? She could think of many things. Questions, concerns, curiosity of varying degrees, from serious to silly; but what rolled off the tongue before she could think it through - possessing none of Melita's reticence - was only selfish. "I would ask a favor... if you ever pass by a shrine." Too late to turn back now; Maea clenched her jaw and pushed the words out as she came over to the other woman, with the broken arrow in hand. "Could you... give this to Ludo, for me?"

Melita

they should have checked the ashes
of the women they burned alive

Presuming everything was finished, the youth sought out her own armaments. Between her and Fangorn, the ones she’d volleyed and ricocheted against the rock were restored and put to order, nestled amongst her quiver with the assortment of others. She figured she’d be on her way, and these bizarre circumstances would be nothing at all: something to either reflect on later, or give no sentiments towards. Just Maea in the moonlight – warnings extended and brazen.

So when the question, the notion, of a favor passed through, the honeybee’s brows both arched. Her eyes went to the broken arrow, and then back to the Ascended’s face – hoping some rhyme, some reason, would parse through. When no explanation came, and her hand hadn’t gone yet to accept it, the girl only uttered forth her inquiry. “What for?” For forgiveness? For rebellion? For ties and tethers gone, slashed, and likely broken, with her choice to Ascend? “What is it supposed to represent?” No toy, no figurine, no amusements – just a snapped and splintered weapon.

because it takes a single wild ember
to bring a whole wildfire to life

M  A   E    A I talked to God to no avail Said, "If you won't save me, please don't waste my time." Lips pursed in thought; it was a good question. This had been an impulse request, without much consideration put into it. Explaining every sentiment behind it to this person, whom she neither knew nor trusted, did not appeal to Maea, and yet... For such a favor, some explanation was probably owed. Buying time to think, she threaded the bow over her shoulders, and returned the undamaged arrows to Melita. "A lament," came the reply, slow and reluctant, "over lost potential. There was a time when I caught a glimpse of a path... offered just to me. Despite everything I was. But..." There was an intake of breath, completely unnecessary; brought on as memories of the past briefly overshadowed who - and what - she had become. "I squandered it. I chased after love instead, like a blind idiot, and failed to listen to wisdom or warnings. And it led me so far from moderation and the Old Gods that I don't know if I can ever find a way back." Not that she deserved it. Her choices, while stupid, had been made in full awareness of what the costs would be. It was too late for regrets, and yet she harbored them all the same. There was a tendency for shoulders to sag and bend, but while Melita was looking the pale-faced forgery of a woman refused to succumb to self-pity. Keeping her back straight, she met the girl's gaze head on. Ready to face laughter, scorn or mockery, whatever judgement that might be passed. "It's just a token. I'm not asking for anything, or expecting anything, and if you don't want to do this, that's fine."

Melita

they should have checked the ashes
of the women they burned alive

She wrapped her fingers around the undamaged beacons, placing them back in the quiver as well. But she hadn’t taken the broken one, not yet, not until hearing the reasons behind the multitudes.

Her brows furrowed slightly as she listened; no rebuttal extended. A bizarre swansong towards a herald that would inevitably be long since lost to the Ascended; a twist and turn of a path taken in the need for revival. Would Melita have done the same? The youth couldn’t be certain, couldn’t be sure. After all she’d heard of Mort’s realm – of something like paradise after all the hardships, would she have yearned to leave? Her mother and sister wouldn’t be there, no matter when she met her end. Maybe it depended on what she would’ve craved back here.

Is that what Maea had done? Had wanted? Another chance with Sunjata: who glanced anywhere and everywhere? To scrape after him? To follow him in the dark, when he’d already had so many others up ahead? When she’d had some opportunity elsewhere?

And the Old Gods wouldn’t have her back.

“So what are you going to do now?” Fight for the Voice? Entangle herself with the New Gods, rather than the ancient and arcane? Or had it all been impulse, a chance, an opportunity, without forethought? Do the dead dream of such things? She didn't know. The honeybee eventually took the snapped, splintered figment, enclosing her digits around it.

because it takes a single wild ember
to bring a whole wildfire to life

M  A   E    A I talked to God to no avail Said, "If you won't save me, please don't waste my time." No laughter, no derision. No mockery either; only thoughtful silence. For that, Maea would always be grateful to the lioness, no matter what happened from here on. It was not easy to open up to a stranger, especially not when there was so much tension between them. But perhaps they did not have to like one another to show respect, and Melita had earned that much from her tonight. And so the white-haired young woman answered the question with complete truth. "I don't know." A tightness in her throat could not be swallowed away; she smiled when the broken arrow was taken from her outstretched hand, and it was the most human expression to touch her face thus far. Relieved and a little lost; Maea shrugged. "Things I touch are prone to breaking. I think... I will consider carefully what is most important to me, and stay as far away from it as I can." Taking a step back, she turned to leave. "Thank you, Melita. Take care of yourself."

Melita

they should have checked the ashes
of the women they burned alive

She could’ve laughed and mocked, could’ve ridiculed and jeered, could’ve done any amount of things that burned along her tongue and behind her teeth; but maybe it didn’t matter. Maea had stepped into her own muck and mire again, listless and uncertain. Perhaps it would all happen to them eventually – the sort of pathway disjointed and riddled with thorns, with brambles, with nettles, incapable of seeing what laid ahead through the sheer amount of barbs. With the war looming, presuming, along the horizon, what more would they be? What more could they do?

Her eyes narrowed at the semblances of things prone to breaking. Of staying far away from things cherished. The opposite of what people naturally did. She had nothing to say to that. Nothing to add. It was sad and disheartening all at once.

So instead, the youth shrugged her shoulders. “You too,” uncertain if she meant it or not, sparked into the evening. With that, she took Fangorn, the broken filaments, and everything else learned in the bizarre span of time, and flickered out as quickly as she’d come in.

{FIN}

because it takes a single wild ember
to bring a whole wildfire to life