Bitter Victory, Bitter Defeat

[PRIVATE] Bitter Victory, Bitter Defeat

Psyche the DarkEmpress Posts: 380

Deceased

Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.3 hh :: 8 (ages in Orangemoon) Buff: ENDURE

RayoDeSoleil

#12

02-01-2014, 11:59 PM

The more she thought about her redemption, the more sure she became that she would never gain it; the more she pondered the concept of guilt, the more foreign it became to her; the more she considered the likelihood of forgiveness, the more it became a fantasy. How could they forgive her, after all that she had done? How could they look at her without seeing the lives that she had taken, the souls that she had terrorized, the hatred that she had shown the world? Despite the desire to make things right, the Empress could not help but withdraw from her peers, afraid that they would not accept her, that they would chain her past to her future and refuse to let go. As long as her fear held the reins, she would not be able to push past their doubts and accusations. As long as she ran from her shame, she could never hope to face them. Right then, she couldn't even stand to face herself.

And yet here she stood, with one of them giving her advice, acting as though he cared, going so far as to smile at her - and it was a genuine smile, she could see that through wondering amber eyes - without even the slightest bit of resentment or fear. He stood, relaxed, switching flies off his bum and shooting the breeze with her as though it were an everyday occurrence. And he did this even knowing who she was, knowing what she had done, knowing that she could very well kill him - or, at least, attempt to kill him. In the past half hour, the hornless steed had shown her more kindness than her own species had in the past year.

She was suddenly acutely aware of her shame.

Everyone deserves a second chance, he said. "Do they?" she murmured, half thought and half query, her gaze shrouded with self-doubt and something horribly similar to fear. "Some of your brethren would no doubt say otherwise." She ignored the last words, for she could not bear the thought of facing her own guilt and anger, now directly at herself rather than those surrounding her. How was she to forgive herself when she didn't even know how she had come to be this way?

Lace's final question caught her off guard, and for a moment a flood of betrayal interrupted her thought process. Was he only using her to gather information? Was everything he had said, every attempt to cheer her or at least advise her, a lie? But it passed quickly, for the only trouble he was likely to cause would be the Basin's problem, not hers, and she could not say that she cared anymore. "Deimos leads," she told him. "And Illynx."

"Talk talk talk."