Maea
And time it waits for no one
It heals them when you die
It heals them when you die
"But I always keep score. How else would I know when you owe me?" A faint smile tugged at her lips. Already they were falling back into familiar patterns. Lightly bickering, almost arguing. The taste of nostalgia was thick as rancid honey on her tongue. Sickly sweet and nauseating.
As the sound of the pickaxe started up and made it difficult to speak, Maea picked at the frayed cuffs of her sleeves. A lump digging into her hip made her shift; rummaging into a pocket she found the obsidian compass and pulled it out. Gazing at the needle, she began to slowly twist the device, noting how it kept facing the same direction. Unwavering. She held back an impulse to hurl the thing into the wall.
"Amun. What's the world like, these days? I don't know... how much I've missed." Maybe she had slept for a century, and the war was over. Was that too much to hope for?
As the sound of the pickaxe started up and made it difficult to speak, Maea picked at the frayed cuffs of her sleeves. A lump digging into her hip made her shift; rummaging into a pocket she found the obsidian compass and pulled it out. Gazing at the needle, she began to slowly twist the device, noting how it kept facing the same direction. Unwavering. She held back an impulse to hurl the thing into the wall.
"Amun. What's the world like, these days? I don't know... how much I've missed." Maybe she had slept for a century, and the war was over. Was that too much to hope for?
And soon you are forgotten
A whisper within a sigh
A whisper within a sigh
