Maea
Rest against my pillow
like the aging winter sun
like the aging winter sun
She used to come here often in her youth. To play in the water on hot days, to swim with her brother and friends. To visit the nearby shrine and pray to gods that never answered. A lush haven, a paradise of green amidst all the washed out gray, her moments amidst the reeds and lilies had always provided a respite that offered peace of mind and saw her refreshed. Ready to once again brave the stark realities of a life within a cage.
Many years had passed since she last set foot in the grove. Somewhere along the way, her memory of the peace once found in this place had withered and dimmed, overshadowed by other waters and other woods, until she could no longer quite recall what the murky pool tasted like, or how the wind felt when it drew goosebumps on damp skin. It was only impulse that brought her here today. Or some suppressed longing to relive the past, perhaps another step on a path towards letting go, moving on...
It was made laughingly difficult by the figure that shadowed the shoreline, with his over-sized wings and the large shadow he cast through her memories.
She thought to simply leave. But part of her remembered all to clearly a promise to at least not avoid one another, while something else whispered mocking taunts about running away and avoiding the inevitable, until her feet would carry her neither forward nor back. Just frozen in place near the forest edge, hand prone on a tree trunk and a world of hesitation in her eyes. Torn, as she had always been when it came to the Flood. Pulled in, pushed back, left befuddled and confused and always unsure where she would end up. There had been a thrill, once, in allowing herself to be swept away. Now, though... fear of the consequences left a bitter aftertaste on her tongue, that not even Ascended senses was able to entirely remove.
"Why is it, that I always stumble upon you near water, fishboy?" came a quiet remark; not quite question, or entirely something that could - or should - be answered.
Many years had passed since she last set foot in the grove. Somewhere along the way, her memory of the peace once found in this place had withered and dimmed, overshadowed by other waters and other woods, until she could no longer quite recall what the murky pool tasted like, or how the wind felt when it drew goosebumps on damp skin. It was only impulse that brought her here today. Or some suppressed longing to relive the past, perhaps another step on a path towards letting go, moving on...
It was made laughingly difficult by the figure that shadowed the shoreline, with his over-sized wings and the large shadow he cast through her memories.
She thought to simply leave. But part of her remembered all to clearly a promise to at least not avoid one another, while something else whispered mocking taunts about running away and avoiding the inevitable, until her feet would carry her neither forward nor back. Just frozen in place near the forest edge, hand prone on a tree trunk and a world of hesitation in her eyes. Torn, as she had always been when it came to the Flood. Pulled in, pushed back, left befuddled and confused and always unsure where she would end up. There had been a thrill, once, in allowing herself to be swept away. Now, though... fear of the consequences left a bitter aftertaste on her tongue, that not even Ascended senses was able to entirely remove.
"Why is it, that I always stumble upon you near water, fishboy?" came a quiet remark; not quite question, or entirely something that could - or should - be answered.
Only wake each morning to
remember that you're gone
remember that you're gone
