Maea
And time it waits for no one
It heals them when you die
It heals them when you die
Apologies brought no one back. Nor would the apologies of the dead ever reach the ears of the living.
No one knew that better than herself.
And in a flash, as flame-edged daggers came hurtling down towards Maea, the face that flashed before her belonged not to a dead brother but a living one. It was enough. All she needed to react.
Her left arm came up to shield herself from the blow the Fae aimed at her, and in the right one, her hand clutched the dagger hard. Circuits connected within her palm and as she blindly thrust upwards, electricity licked the metal blade. There was a dull thump as it connected with the flesh of the woman, stabbing deep into her chest. And Maea screamed as fire ate into her lower arm, cutting and burning until it grated against something that might have been bone.
She had forgotten what pain tasted like. The kind of horror it evoked. There was no room left for thoughts or feelings as she kicked and heaved to get the crazy fae woman off of her, and the electricity kept pulsing. On and on - was it a second? A minute? - before she tore herself free and scrambled off to the side, scraping the gaping wound in her arm against the damp grass, against crushed and broken flowers in a mad attempt at putting out the fire that ate through her veins.
No one knew that better than herself.
And in a flash, as flame-edged daggers came hurtling down towards Maea, the face that flashed before her belonged not to a dead brother but a living one. It was enough. All she needed to react.
Her left arm came up to shield herself from the blow the Fae aimed at her, and in the right one, her hand clutched the dagger hard. Circuits connected within her palm and as she blindly thrust upwards, electricity licked the metal blade. There was a dull thump as it connected with the flesh of the woman, stabbing deep into her chest. And Maea screamed as fire ate into her lower arm, cutting and burning until it grated against something that might have been bone.
She had forgotten what pain tasted like. The kind of horror it evoked. There was no room left for thoughts or feelings as she kicked and heaved to get the crazy fae woman off of her, and the electricity kept pulsing. On and on - was it a second? A minute? - before she tore herself free and scrambled off to the side, scraping the gaping wound in her arm against the damp grass, against crushed and broken flowers in a mad attempt at putting out the fire that ate through her veins.
And soon you are forgotten
A whisper within a sigh
A whisper within a sigh
