Maea
And time it waits for no one
It heals them when you die
It heals them when you die
The accusations were worse than daggers. Worse than fire or a hundred cuts, because they struck at the deepest doubts within her and tore them all open. Every excuse and every soothing band-aid of love and reassurance her brother had applied over the course of the half season or so ripped clean off and exposed a festering mess crawling with unclean things. The faces of dead Fae screaming down at her carried the semblances of her own lost family. Father. Mother. Brother. Nieces and nephews, all gone before their time. All dead due to hardship and back-breaking labor to survive in a dying land, until sickness and plague or monsters in the night came to claim them.
And she... she had replaced them. Not joined them, or died with them. She had turned her back and filled the void of them with others. With strangers, who would never know. Never truly know.
Above her hovered someone who did. Someone she might have been overjoyed to join forces with, before everything came undone. And now... now she was judged, and condemned, and all Maea could do was curl up and cover her head with her hands. "I'm sorry," she gasped, to the faces of ghosts that might never stop haunting her memories. "I didn't meant to, I didn't - I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry, I'm - "
Tears that were not tears oozed from eyes that wouldn't blink. Unseeing they stared into the void, as all that she had begun to rebuild came undone under wrathful gaze of this reaper in holy rags.
All thoughts of escaping or defending herself were gone. All that remained was the guilt.
And she... she had replaced them. Not joined them, or died with them. She had turned her back and filled the void of them with others. With strangers, who would never know. Never truly know.
Above her hovered someone who did. Someone she might have been overjoyed to join forces with, before everything came undone. And now... now she was judged, and condemned, and all Maea could do was curl up and cover her head with her hands. "I'm sorry," she gasped, to the faces of ghosts that might never stop haunting her memories. "I didn't meant to, I didn't - I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry, I'm - "
Tears that were not tears oozed from eyes that wouldn't blink. Unseeing they stared into the void, as all that she had begun to rebuild came undone under wrathful gaze of this reaper in holy rags.
All thoughts of escaping or defending herself were gone. All that remained was the guilt.
And soon you are forgotten
A whisper within a sigh
A whisper within a sigh
