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09-21-2015, 06:05 PM
Zandora
Yes, dear, I'm smiling
Inside I am dying
Inside I am dying
She almost didn't realize he called out to her, his voice so tender, so loving, it had been strange to hear in the smothering ruins of their battle. If she were to look, she'd see charred soil burned by her own doings. Smoke arose with an eerie translucence around her, a cloud of slate shame. How was it that one who was once so polished, once so put together, could fall apart so easily? Was this the power of emotion; to have the ability to cut through the strongest of glues with blades sharper then diamonds?
The cold bit fresh pain into her thoughts, her purple locks drifting with the howls of the wind. Teeth begun to chatter, her body being unable to keep up with all the demands. Zandora pinched her eyes closed, trying hard with what little might she had left to keep standing, keep prevailing. The only warmth was the continuous stream of crimson liquid, dripping and oozing from coal lips. Her head started to spin as the chilled wind beat once more upon her bruised hide, it was in this moment that she was no longer sure if she could keep going. Zandora wanted to prove to Ashamin that she still loved him dearly, that they would be alright, and even in the darkness of this moment, that Zandora always had his back.
Ashamin called out to her again, it was no use though, on swaying limbs she continued to stand. "Worry not my Haurspex, I will be alright." She spoke with strained soft tones, as if she was hiding the true agony that was but a deep look away. Each second was drawn out, as if time himself played tricks with her. Another pained cough erupted from her chest, ugly and wet with the vile liquid. Her body suddenly felt weighed down, her lungs burning and screaming with each breath, was she going to be alright? Would anything be alright?
Ashamin spoke again, his words no longer about the battle of blood, but of the constellations that loomed lookingly above them. She didn't know anything about stars, where she was from stars were rarely seen. His words haunted her, what did he mean? Did these sparkling orbs suggest something that correlated with her? Shaking her head she tried to phantom a response, the connotation of Ashamin's chords distracting her. "I-I...are you talking about my father?" She asked, hoping that he had some sort of answer although she knew that he couldn't be expected to know what this meant for her, that it was for Zandora's justification, she still hoped. No one knew her history, not one soul on this god forsaken realm had heard her horrors that meant her story. No one should know either, she kept it hidden for the reason of her sanity and for the sake of others.
What did he mean?
She kept asking, pondering, until even the thought of words became too tiresome for her body. Her eyes blinked with pained drowsiness as she absent-mindely watched flurries of snow dance and play with the breath of frost. She tried to concentrate on his breathing, her soldier of chiffon and charcoal had fallen by her hand. She did not dare venture to the what ifs, for Zandora knew that she wouldn't be able to return from those lands, the guilt would surely be her bane. Somehow Ashamin had managed to speak an apology, his words slicing through the structure of her heart, the very strings that kept her breathing were severed. Her mouth drooped open, this love, so deep and strong rattled her body. It was strange, to be loved, before she had met Ashamin she had no idea what love was. What they shared was no beautiful story of the what love is like, no Ashamin and Zandora shared something special. Their love was the type that could pull shattered pieces together, that two souls desperate and broken could become whole. Ashamin had seen her at her state of utter rawness, when tears streamed her face and her armor had cracked. He hadn't run from her, he didn't see her as a burden, but rather he endured the pain with her. Ashamin saw her in plain sight when she was invisible to others, and the amount of respect she had for him now that she realized this was more then any subject could give to their deity.
"Ashamin you do not need to be sorrowful. You have given me more then I could ever wish for. You have showed me things that I never thought was possible for a daughter of hell to learn, I cannot express my gratitude. So please, know that you are in no need of expressing your apologies. If anything it is me, I have put you through too much and I will forever be in your debt." She hadn't looked at him until now, she turned her head to look at her soldier, laying in the ground with lids heavy with exhaustion. Was is fate that they met? Or was it written in her destiny?
Knees dared to bend, but as the call of another filled her thoughts she stood strong. The slow moments that had passed between them suddenly felt as if no time had passed at all. Zandora's black and crimson faced turned to see a mare, bay of color and horned, as well as Lochan. The mare's voice was beautiful, enchanting, it seeped into her exhaustion and replaced it with awe. Zandora then recognized her as Lena, although they had never personally met, she knew of the songbird and her qualities. As her voice penetrated deep within her core, Zandora's ears perked forward, a wave of renewal washing about her. The raw taste of old blood was all that haunted her senses now, the sickening minutes of warm liquid gathering in her mouth was no more. Lena had stitched her together, like the broken doll Zandora had become. Still fearful of pain, she slowly inhaled air expecting the sharpness that her damages had produced, but when it was but a dull ache she sighed with a sudden contentless. Although she knew it wouldn't last long, she savored it.
Lena might have healed her scars, but only time could heal her soul, even time himself might not be enough. Zandora had mined through bedrock, and somehow managed to reach an abyss lower then the cold, hard, rock bottom. Glancing down she saw Ashamin, she felt regret, had she broken him? Just like she had broke herself? Where would their friendship stand? Would he be okay? Her eyes looked troubled, scared not of pain, but in fear of losing Ashamin. She wanted to reach out and touch him in their awkward special way, but she felt as if she had dug a ditch between them and he was too far for her grasp. Tearing her eyes away from him, she tried to hold herself together to show her gratitude underneath all the layers of agony. "Thank you for answering our call, I cannot express my gratefulness enough." She bobbed her head, attempting to show her respect for the mare who had answered with no obligation.
The equines of Helovia continued to show Zandora the values of life, values she never knew of before she entered the walls of this realm. Sure she might have had a moral compass, but these inhabitants were so rich of knowledge, so willingly to help, so inspirational, that she was always surrounded by this idea of how to be a better Z. Perhaps this was where her faith to keep going rooted from. She didn't know much anymore, expect for the fact that Helovia wasn't going to let her fade away easily, she wouldn't be allowed amongst the colors of art and beauty, to simply cease to exist; she would thrive. (whether she wanted to or not)
OCC: My first 900+ post (1330 words o.o) I'm sorry if this is a bit emotional and all over the place, I've been working on this for quite a few days and life influences my writing. so yeah here's this post
TAGS: @Ashamin @Lena
"Talk?"
![[Image: 56a075b49df35]](http://images.helovia.net/index.php/view/56a075b49df35)
No restrictions on things that can happen to Zandora, please tag in first posts only.
