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01-14-2015, 03:05 AM
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Ophelia
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The reason for the veil of night was innocent. She was drowning in darkness, embraced by the night of her own soul as the light revealed far too many flaws. Here, in the darkness, she needed the gentle hum of her nightlight, the single god in the whole of Helovia who had the power to expunge her sins and grant her absolution. Despite the pain he caused, her suffering in his absence, she still turned her head to the bright sky, trusting his judgment above all others. For in those deep, golden orbs, she saw a purity and understanding so absent in his siblings. Flickers of light started to spark in the grass. Here. There. Like little fireflies or a silent, dying flame. A smile graced her lips, watching them surround her with brightness and bathe her in his grace. Together, these sparkles merged, forming the body of the God of the Sun, and she lowered her gaze, his godliness too great to behold in his transformation. Surely it would burn her eyes, blind her forever. The warm greeting of his voice like honey lifted her eyes, and she smiled gently, still so unsure of their relationship, fearful of ruining the future again. His muzzle pressed against her shoulder, a close gesture offered to her only once before, and she felt her heart flutter, unsure if she dared to return it. To touch his body? To be that close to his golden hide? If only she were brave. Instead, she closed her eyes, gently leaning into his touch and letting out her tension upon exhale. He had heard her words, and she was not surprised. In return, she was offered a riddle, one that brought gladness to her heart. He never told her what she must or mustn't do. The god guided with suggestions, interested in exploring her thoughts, and for this, she was grateful. He cared. Worthy actions deserved a separate praise from being inwardly worthy. What she displayed and who she was were often competing, and she could not reconcile the same treatment between the two. She was glad though, that her efforts had worked, and she nodded slowly. Ophelia looked away in shame at the mention of her bearing Roskuld, just now, a year later, able to sort through her feelings on the matter. Perhaps then, without her memories, she had consented to a night with the Time God, but now, she felt raped. Looking at Roskuld issued a sickening array of emotions, loving her daughter deeply but reminded of the transgressions against her body with every similarity between her and her father. "Ah," she murmured quietly. "You have stated actions, some of which I was not even... aware of... when I made them. Efforts, as you said. When efforts and my own worthiness are two separate questions and therefore have two different answers..." she trailed thoughtfully. Ophelia looked up into his burnished gaze, feeling her worries sweep away into the sea of his honesty. "What I have done and who I am seem so different," she replied. "I am broken, damaged, shattered. Doubts cloud every word I hear from others, and access to their minds are the only way in which I can trust. Even then, the thought of baring my soul to be broken again would leave me irreparable. I am barely breathing at the surface of my own sins, fears and doubts. How could I ever bring someone else into my misery?" she asked honestly, earnestly. "Wouldn't proving my love be saving them from myself? Would breaking their heart now, leave it whole for another, be kinder than any returned affections?" she asked, feeling emotion rise in her throat and taint her eyes with glassy clouds. "What makes me worthy of another? How can I justify the possibility of pain with my own selfishness? Is it wrong to... to want love?" Do I even deserve it? |
 Undertow has come to take me. Guided by the blazing sun. Look at everything around us. Look at everything we've done. Please. Anyone. I don't think I can save myself. I'm drowning. |
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