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11-28-2014, 06:09 PM
I don't really know why I am here. We have never been particularly close, Seele and I, not even after her realization that we are kin. Of course, it's not like I gave her much of a chance, fearing her wrath more than I had ever guessed I would. I have struggled for so long to gain her trust, her confidence, her adoration - knowing full well that she could never feel, not really. She is not like me. She is harder, coarser, molded into a shape that I was never able to fit. And so when I was finally found out, I ran. I hid.
I am a coward.
I cannot save her now.
I don't even know what she is going through, but upon cresting a small hill and seeing her crash through the ice, the cold blue crackling across my vision, I know that something is wrong. Seele may not feel, may not care, but she has a remarkable sense of self-preservation - she had to, to survive our father's ministrations. But then, I have not seen her for some time now, seclusion myself from not only my sister but from the herd as well. Maybe she has changed. Maybe something has gotten through her solid walls, across the pits of barbed wire that surround her tortured soul.
I do not speak as I approach, though I distantly register the appearance of Midas and Amara. Their voices and their colors are dim and faraway, beckoning to my senses but failing to grasp my attention. I have eyes only for her, for this sister that I have longed for and disappointed, so many times, in so many ways. How could I have ever thought that I would be worthy of her? I was revealed to her and left her to suffer alone. I am still afraid, but I will not run from this. Not this time.
I stare at her silently, willing her to come out of the frigid water.
I am a coward.
I cannot save her now.
I don't even know what she is going through, but upon cresting a small hill and seeing her crash through the ice, the cold blue crackling across my vision, I know that something is wrong. Seele may not feel, may not care, but she has a remarkable sense of self-preservation - she had to, to survive our father's ministrations. But then, I have not seen her for some time now, seclusion myself from not only my sister but from the herd as well. Maybe she has changed. Maybe something has gotten through her solid walls, across the pits of barbed wire that surround her tortured soul.
I do not speak as I approach, though I distantly register the appearance of Midas and Amara. Their voices and their colors are dim and faraway, beckoning to my senses but failing to grasp my attention. I have eyes only for her, for this sister that I have longed for and disappointed, so many times, in so many ways. How could I have ever thought that I would be worthy of her? I was revealed to her and left her to suffer alone. I am still afraid, but I will not run from this. Not this time.
I stare at her silently, willing her to come out of the frigid water.
