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Before there was light, there was darkness, a deep nothingness that stretches as far as her conscious could see. There, and then not there. Elsewhere. Adrift on an inky black sea, Yael has only a vague concept of time, and absolutely no recollection of how she came to be in this unusual predicament. In these moments, the bile of panic does not rise in her proverbial throat (does she even have a body to betray her? - she has no sense of hunger or thirst, no physical pain to pull her back to the light), though there is an unsettling sort of tap, tap, tap on her shoulder to remind that she should not be... wherever she is. So she waits, her mind wandering in and out of some sort of awareness, every now and then gathering enough focus to try and deduce where she might be lingering (placed?).
No heartbeat or sense of warmth, as if from a mother’s womb - so she has not died, to be reborn in another body. There is neither a chorus of seraphim and cherubim, or all consuming pain. Her people did not believe in a heaven or hell anyway - but Yael is willing to concede that despite the powers she (once) held, there were still mysteries in the universe that she was not privy to. For all her guided tours of the heavens and the depths of the earth, for her journey into Death and back again, there are still a hundred thousand things she has not done. But how does she know these things? Her name, a mother’s womb, her people; the tap, tap. tapping becomes an insistent heavy-handed knock.
Perhaps that's what whomever brought her here was waiting for. Yael would never dare to presume who (or what) it might be, for she has been on the receiving end of enough miracles to know that it’s best not to overthink them. Could it be one of the Gods of Helovia? The spirit of B'kanna, keeping her 'alive,' only to banish her and punish her for any number of things? Death would be an easy end to it all, and she would be only too happy to follow Vanquish into the greyness. The shades were -
Wait. Vanquish? The name stirs something deep inside her. Recognition. Adoration. Passion. Gut-wrenching loss. A feeling previously stifled by the nothingness; a full-body ache that makes her gasp. Oh and there is her body. Her chest constricts, drawing sharply onward until it seems as if her ribs will pierce her heart - which she would gladly welcome as the memories begin to trickle back in. Slowly, at first; flashes of a life together in sparkling sands, entwined beneath a massive oak at the edge of an oasis as intimate lovers. And as pressure bombards a hole and breaks it open, so her past life flooded violently into her; her children, the Wars and deaths, of Vanquish and his face as he -
A searing pain interrupts the horrific parade of images, sending bright rays of light across her vision. They make her head ache, even as they widen to reveal a perfectly lovely day in a landscape that is confusing and unfamiliar. She's never seen this part of B’kanna before, and she could have sworn she'd seen it all. Yael’s chest burns, and her mouth is dusty and dry, while her tongue lays thickly in her mouth. A magical hangover (nevermind that she hasn't noticed her magic is gone) if she's ever had one. The little golden mare doesn't mind - it takes her thoughts away from Everything.
Yael heaves herself to her feet, never noticing that her physical appearance has changed, while all the aches and pains of mortality have yet to settle into her (old - but not old) body. Water. Water. Water. The wind brings a whiff of freshness, and so she turns towards it, and when she finds a babbling, clear stream, her dainty little head dips to drink.
Still, she does not notice the changes. What a surprise that shall be.
all you need is love
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A day will dawn and a time will come - any
