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05-07-2013, 02:50 PM
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I am hot. I don't mean that in the metaphorical sense which some use to describe beauty and sexuality; I mean it in the most literal, physical sense possible. The lazy breeze of Orangemoon is cool against my snowy pelt, but it does not give me chills nor counteract the inner heat of my bodice. No, the Dragon's Throat magic that has taken root deep within me prevents that. I burn from the inside out with the constant presence of the magic. It might sound unpleasant, and perhaps it would be to some, but I find it soothing. It is reassuring to know that although I might be faced with horrendously frigid temperatures in my lifetime, I will have the comfort and solace of heat buried deep within my breast. Although my magic, to my knowledge, does not prevent my death in the face of such conditions, it does provide me with a general sense of wellbeing and the willpower to drive on, even through the worst of times. Speaking of which, it would seem that the worst of times had come to me in recent months. It was not so long ago that I had birthed twins - one stillborn, one perfectly healthy - and for a long time I struggled to cope with that loss. Although I love my Skysong with all my heart and hope to protect her from life's ugliness, I still cannot quite forgive myself for the death of my firstborn. Their father was there, and then he wasn't - gods know I haven't seen him in some time - and that after I had been under the impression that he would remain by my side forever. For always. A family, he and our children. Child. But now he's gone, and I don't know where, or why, all I know is that he is there and I am here, with Skysong, and I have wronged him, but I have been wronged by his absence. Oh, it is all so messed up. My wanders on this day have taken me far from the reaches of the Throat. I have thrown my energy into building the wall, and in a way I feel as though it is more my child than my own daughter. I am on hand, day in and day out, to shape the wall, to mold it into the form that I see fit. But Skysong, well, she spends more and more time with Rowan, and I worry that she will have more of an influence in my daughter's life than I. This in and of itself would not be a bad thing, as I admire Rowan's intelligence and devotion, but I am met with a sinking feeling of guilt each time I see them wandering off together. The wall comforts me, provides me with something to throw myself heart and soul into. It allows me to forget for a while. Oh, what I wouldn't give to forget it all. But it doesn't seem that I am going to be able to do that. Gaucho's presence in the herd and, perhaps, in my womb (though it is too early to tell, really) forbids me to forget my sins, and so I bury myself in my work, hoping. Praying. But these days I have to wonder if the gods really hear my prayers. No, they must - musn't they? After all, the Sun God blessed me with his favor when he sent me on a quest for my ghost-speaking; the Earth God seemed very kind when I saw him not so long ago. Perhaps he did not choose to bequeath his favor upon me, but I felt that he was a caring god nonetheless, much more so than his fiery brother. The gods are so undeniably here, and yet I still feel as though they do not hear me at all. My wings carry me high above the mountains, but something seems to call to me from far below. I assume that it is the beauty of this terrain, seemingly untouched. I cannot see another soul, and for the first time in many moons I am blissfully alone. It seems as good a place as any to land, to ponder my thoughts, and so I begin a steady, downward spiral. I choose a clearing in which to land, a calming place with a beautiful ocean view. To my back is rock; to each side lies forest. Perhaps I should stop here, take a moment to stop and smell the metaphorical roses, but still I feel the gentle tug of something calling me. I tear my eyes from the scenic blue-green before me and survey the mountain's face. A cave lies before me, and I step hesitantly near. My auds prick forward in blatant curiousity and I am soon moving at an easy pace. I step into the cavern without a second thought, and although my hooves continue to carry me forward, my eyes are overwhelmed by the beauty around me. The entire cave seems to be encased in crystal; the light from the mouth bounces around in fragments, sending multi-colored beams of light in dapples across my snowy pelt. This is the kind of place in which I could spend hours, if I am not careful, and so I am grateful that my legs, at least, seem to know where they are going. It is not long before I come to the end of the tunnel. A small pool lies before me, and it, too, is the recipient of the many little scraps of light bouncing through the cave. But what I soon realize is that the light is no longer coming only from the mouth of the cave, so far behind me; it is coming from the pool. The call is stronger, and I peer over the edge. At the bottom of the pool there is a small, glowing orb. It is so beautiful, and so surreal, and I am at a loss, simply lost in this twisted moment of time, unable to tear myself away from this - this - thing. I am possessed by the incurable notion that this little ball of starlight is mine, meant for me by some greater power. As though they knew that I questioned them. As though they are reassuring me that no, they have not forsaken me; that no, they will not give me more than I can handle; that yes, there is another purpose for my pain. In this instant, all of my doubts are eradicated, all of my faith is restored, and for the first time in a season or two I truly feel like myself. |
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"Talk talk talk." |
| Sohalia Don't wanna leave this life knowing I barely tried... |
