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09-06-2015, 06:04 AM
och jag växte upp snabbt, från min barndom var det allt—jag föddes redan slagen
då tänker du tyst och skriker högt, memorerar hela jävla monologen som skrevs för din inre röst,
So they set out west, Spacelady and he. West, to the ass-end of the world—to its edge, or as Aurelius had said: World's End.
He—damn... That had been so long ago. Half his life ago. Or more? Something like that. Long ago, anyway, in days of arrogant blood-glory and false promises and carefully laid plans that never came to fruition.. had he been too cautious already then? With his soft smile and quiet reassurances? Had he squandered some chance, should he have been the one to strike the first blow?
Pointless questions that touched upon a life he no longer wanted anyway.
Every once in a while he would turn to Katerina, to peer at her, but he said little unless she asked. They passed out of the Threshold, across the Thistle Meadow, and finally, the land began to slope gently upwards and evergreens claimed the horizon. "Home," he said, his voice a little rough from the long silence. He cleared his throat and gave his head a gentle shake. Home, for him. In the past and now again.
The only place in Helovia that, at least once, had truly been home to him.
But would it be home to the silvered lady pacing along with him? She had been thrust into a foreign world from very far away, with little preparation and less choice—much like Myrrine, the butterfly-winged girl roaming his foggy sanctuary. Mauja had left his world behind partly by choice, partly by a necessity (there was nothing for him there but guilt and shame—), but he had been able to go back. He'd even gone back a few times.
"The official border is just up ahead," and his legs kept carrying him up the familiar terrain, the gentle incline of the ground, towards a broken glass wall shimmering with the dying sunlight. "A broken glass wall, the remnants of another herd and their judgmental ways." He snorted. "There's more than enough gaps to get across, but some edges are still sharp." His head turned sideways, to peer at her.
"What was your home like, Katerina?"
[ 3,000 years later, welcoming for @Katerina <3 ]
He—damn... That had been so long ago. Half his life ago. Or more? Something like that. Long ago, anyway, in days of arrogant blood-glory and false promises and carefully laid plans that never came to fruition.. had he been too cautious already then? With his soft smile and quiet reassurances? Had he squandered some chance, should he have been the one to strike the first blow?
Pointless questions that touched upon a life he no longer wanted anyway.
Every once in a while he would turn to Katerina, to peer at her, but he said little unless she asked. They passed out of the Threshold, across the Thistle Meadow, and finally, the land began to slope gently upwards and evergreens claimed the horizon. "Home," he said, his voice a little rough from the long silence. He cleared his throat and gave his head a gentle shake. Home, for him. In the past and now again.
The only place in Helovia that, at least once, had truly been home to him.
But would it be home to the silvered lady pacing along with him? She had been thrust into a foreign world from very far away, with little preparation and less choice—much like Myrrine, the butterfly-winged girl roaming his foggy sanctuary. Mauja had left his world behind partly by choice, partly by a necessity (there was nothing for him there but guilt and shame—), but he had been able to go back. He'd even gone back a few times.
"The official border is just up ahead," and his legs kept carrying him up the familiar terrain, the gentle incline of the ground, towards a broken glass wall shimmering with the dying sunlight. "A broken glass wall, the remnants of another herd and their judgmental ways." He snorted. "There's more than enough gaps to get across, but some edges are still sharp." His head turned sideways, to peer at her.
"What was your home like, Katerina?"
[ 3,000 years later, welcoming for @Katerina <3 ]
du lät exakt som ismael.
