ALIKE THE ZEALOUS SERRATION OF A WHITTLED BLADE, THEY SUBJUGATED HER FALLACIOUS CONSCIOUSNESS; RAVENOUSLY LACERATED AT THE VESTIGES OF A HEART ALREADY WITHERED, OPERATING INSUFFICIENTLY ON THE PETROL OF HER TRANSGRESSIONS. EVERY RUSTY, FLAKING COGWHEEL OF THOSE OILY CHAMBERS CLAMBERED — COUGHING ON MIASMIC SELF-DOUBT, ASPHYXIATING ON ANGUISH — THREATENING TO ARREST IN THEIR FUTILE REVOLUTION. THEIR CESSATION WAS DISSUADED SIMPLY BY NECESSITY, THE ACRID OPPOSITION OF HER RESOLVE TO FEEBLY BANDAGE HERSELF ON GOOD INTENTIONS. THOSE LINGERING REMNANTS OF SENTIMENTALITY PERSUADING HER TO EXIST UNDER THE RATIONALIZATION OF USEFULNESS, FOR AS LONG AS SHE WAS BOUND BY THE OBLIGATION TO DEFEND AND IMPART, SHE COULD NOT PERMIT HERSELF THE LIBERATION OF LONG-AWAITED, HONEY-LIPPED EXPIRY. AFTER THE UNTIMELY, OVERWHELMING BEREAVEMENT OF HER BELOVED SIBLING, SHE HAD CONTEMPLATED INDUCING HER OWN DEMISE; AND EVERY OBJECT APPEARED AS THOUGH A TANTALIZING END TO HER MISERY. SHE HAD EVEN TOSSED ABOUT THE LUDICROUS FANTASY OF IMPALING HERSELF ON SEELE'S HORN — A FINAL ATONEMENT ACHIEVED THROUGH IMPLACABLE IRONY. AND SHE SURELY WOULD HAVE DELIGHTED IN THE FEELING OF HER HEART BURSTING AGAINST THE WAR-WEARY TIP.

THE KALEIDOSCOPE THAT WAS HER WORLD WOEFULLY EVADED HER VISION; A CANVAS OF MONOCHROME DREARILY ENVELOPING THE VIBRANCY, EMOTIVE DESOLATION LICENTIOUSLY LAPPING UP THE REMAINS OF SECULAR PIGMENT TO PROVIDE HER WITH NAUGHT BUT THE ANHYDROUS HUSK OF HER FORMER VIGOR. NOT EVEN THE PLENTIFUL, EXUBERANT TUNE OF THE SWALLOWS COULD DERAIL HER BLEACHED VISUALIZATION, NOR THE MESMERIC HELICES OF AN EFFERVESCING STREAM DISLODGE ITS SUPPRESSION. TRULY, WHAT DID SHE HAVE TO LIVE FOR? EVERY FAMILIAL FASTENING SHE POSSESSED HAD BEEN RUTHLESSLY PURLOINED; THE FURROWED, ARID FINGERS OF THE HEREAFTER PLUCKING THEM WITH SUCH DISPIRITING EFFORTLESSNESS, AS THOUGH THEIR TETHER TO MORTALITY WERE AS FRAGILE AS THE STEM OF A PARCHED FLORET. DESPITE HER ARDENT DESIRE FOR DELIVERANCE; HOWEVER, EVERY MUSING OF DEATH BECAME PERVADED BY THE VISAGES SHE HAD KNOWINGLY ABANDONED. THOSE YOUTHFUL, AUGUST EYES OF AMARA — HOW THEY MUST HAVE WEPT — HOW THEY MUST HAVE DROWNED THEMSELVES IN A SEA OF CERULEAN AGONY; HOW HER TEARS MUST HAVE FALLEN IN SUCH UNYIELDING ENORMITY THAT THEY SEAMLESSLY BLENDED AMONGST HER FRECKLED CHEEKS. SHE MUST HAVE YEARNED FOR THE SUPPLE COMFORT OF FLESH, THE PIQUANT, SINGED AROMA OF HER HELLBORN MOTHER — AND SHE WAS NOT THERE TO LEAN ON.

AS FOR MIDAS, WELL, HE ALREADY KNEW OF HIS IMPORTANCE…

SHE IS NOT BOASTFUL OF HER REUNION TO THIS LAND. SHE IS RETICENT — A GHOST, A PALLID PHANTASM, PEARLESCENT IN HER WILLOWY TRANSCENDENCE ACROSS THE EMERALD KNOLLS. THE MOON BEQUEATHS A DEMURE, MATERNAL GUIDANCE; HER VISCID CONDUITS OF INSIPID, GLIMMERING LIGHT NAVIGATING HER WITH A COMPARATIVELY UNBURDENED PASSAGEWAY THROUGH THE DENSITY OF THE BURGEONING WOODLAND. EVEN IN HER ABSENCE, SHE FOUND THAT THE FAMED FOYER HAD NOT CHANGED; AND IN THIS REVELATION, SHE WAS SOMEHOW COMFORTED, EVEN WITH HER SURMOUNTING DISQUIETS FOR HER ADMITTEDLY DEFERRED REUNIFICATION. A SIGH SQUEEZED PASSED THE BLUNT APICES OF HER TEETH, HER GAZE TRANSPARENTLY FATIGUED, AS SHE PEEKED OUT FROM BEHIND THE SEAFOAM CURLICUES OF HER FORELOCK. MIDAS — HOW WOULD HE GREET HER? WOULD THEY MELT INTO THE VELVETY SECURITY OF EACH OTHER'S SKIN, AS THOUGH LONGLY DISJOINTED COMPANIONS?  OR WOULD SHE BE AT THE MERCY OF HIS GILDED INDIGNATION? SHE FELT KNOTS TWIST IN HER STOMACH. HOPEFULLY HER REINTEGRATION UNDER HIS RULE IN THE FALLS WOULD BE SATISFYINGly EASY.