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01-31-2017, 06:51 PM
From darkness I understand the night;
dreams flow, a star shines
Ah!
I desire Evenstar.
I desire Evenstar.
Tiamat, of course, has always known of death.
And she has always accepted it (as a fact, as a part of the cycle of life; just as the old must give way for the new, and how winter must give way to spring).
But—
...sometimes it is easier to accept something that you don’t entirely understand.
Something that you haven’t had to personally experience.
As the dawn rises to bring a new day, just as everything in world moves in this constant and eternal course, little does the mare know how her world will be shaken with this particular daybreak. Like the rest of the snowy valley, she awakes in silent ignorance, blissfully unaware of the turmoil and grief that lies in wait. And, like many things in this wild dance of life, the change comes suddenly. There is no grand ceremony, no commemoration to prepare the people of the Basin, and no carols of veneration to hail their dignified and powerful leader into whatever life awaits him next.
It just happens.
“It can’t be,” she barely registers the words as they slip heavily from her lips in a choking, bereaved gasp. He can’t leave us— her heart and her mind cry into the black void of despair, her soul thrown into a storm of upheaval, and for as long as she can manage, she clings desperately to the numbness of disbelief.
What are these mountains without their king? What is the Basin without its lord? (Was he their corner stone, a foundation on which they can grow? Or was he their keystone, leaving them to crumble without his steadiness holding them together?)
These are questions that Tiamat has never wanted to answer.
With her eyes blurred from moisture and her cheeks wet with tears, the ocean mare reaches for the Reaper, breathing soundless whimpers across his cold, still face. “My Lord,” she pants between leaden breaths, slowly swallowing through the tightness of her emotions, “you will never be forgotten.” Already these words ring true, as manifested in the crowd that comes to mourn and pay their respects to their magnificent leader, and celebrate his memory that has shaped and grown with these mighty mountains.
Forever, he will be a part of their hearts—forever, he will guide them.
notes; My heart ;-;
And she has always accepted it (as a fact, as a part of the cycle of life; just as the old must give way for the new, and how winter must give way to spring).
But—
...sometimes it is easier to accept something that you don’t entirely understand.
Something that you haven’t had to personally experience.
As the dawn rises to bring a new day, just as everything in world moves in this constant and eternal course, little does the mare know how her world will be shaken with this particular daybreak. Like the rest of the snowy valley, she awakes in silent ignorance, blissfully unaware of the turmoil and grief that lies in wait. And, like many things in this wild dance of life, the change comes suddenly. There is no grand ceremony, no commemoration to prepare the people of the Basin, and no carols of veneration to hail their dignified and powerful leader into whatever life awaits him next.
It just happens.
“It can’t be,” she barely registers the words as they slip heavily from her lips in a choking, bereaved gasp. He can’t leave us— her heart and her mind cry into the black void of despair, her soul thrown into a storm of upheaval, and for as long as she can manage, she clings desperately to the numbness of disbelief.
What are these mountains without their king? What is the Basin without its lord? (Was he their corner stone, a foundation on which they can grow? Or was he their keystone, leaving them to crumble without his steadiness holding them together?)
These are questions that Tiamat has never wanted to answer.
With her eyes blurred from moisture and her cheeks wet with tears, the ocean mare reaches for the Reaper, breathing soundless whimpers across his cold, still face. “My Lord,” she pants between leaden breaths, slowly swallowing through the tightness of her emotions, “you will never be forgotten.” Already these words ring true, as manifested in the crowd that comes to mourn and pay their respects to their magnificent leader, and celebrate his memory that has shaped and grown with these mighty mountains.
Forever, he will be a part of their hearts—forever, he will guide them.
notes; My heart ;-;
“Speech.”
please tag Tia in all replies!
magic & force are permitted.
magic & force are permitted.
