Cirrus the WindDancer

He heard her, every word she spoke, he took them from her. What he would do with them, how he would react to them, she almost didn't want to know - fear gripped her, it shredded the remains of her heart, it hammered and battered and beat her up, until there was nothing left. Within, Cirrus was vacant, empty, exhausted - she wasn't broken any more; there was nothing left of her to break.

He spoke, and she heard him then, it was her turn to take his words, to let them fill her - he spoke of death, of how it followed us all, but not in the way she had feared. He spoke of how she was punishing herself for that which was out of her control - and she nodded, numbly, doing her best to cling to that information, to let it fill her, bit by bit, piece by piece. Cirrus endeavoured to fill herself up again with the Earth God's wisdom, with his patience, his presence, his power. Cirrus was once a broken vessel, then empty, and now she would be refilled - for he prevented her from shattering her vessel completely, he, with his floating stone, his orders, his words.

Cirrus clung to whatever words he had to offer, she grasped at them with shivering, frightened hope, blind faith in his word, his existence - he was all she had now, all that anchored to this world, for her heart and soul had already departed, eons ago, when a boar's tusk ended Sitka's life.

Slowly, life seemed to return to her. Selfishly, she hoarded each syllable of intonation that dropped from the God's mighty lips, she stored it away and rebuilt herself on it. He spoke of what it was to be a healer - he named traits that the girl had never possessed, and yet she had seen them when she studied healing beneath Onni - the Illuminant, she would have known what to do. She wouldn't have failed, she would have.. But Cirrus stopped, she turned away from the self-depreciating, destructive thoughts.

Cirrus tried to change, to grow, for him. Sitka, her father, the Earth God - maybe she tried for one of them, maybe for all of them - maybe they were all one and the same now, in her mind, her heart, her soul - she tried to be better, to improve, to be the healer that he described (because no matter how hard it was for her, wouldn't it be worth it?).

Your heart was not full of malice, no, it never had been full of anything since Sitka left - it had been broken, shattered, then dissolved away into dust, into nothingness. Cirrus was misguided, but she had never meant to be a killer - no joy filled her when she remembered watching the light leave the eyes of those who had perished by her hooves (they had asked for it, begged for it, every one), no thrills or excitement drummed her heart beat to higher rates when she witnessed death's final stroke - no, only sadness, sorrow and regret had darkened that empty cavern that was her, Cirrus, the Broken, the Vacant, the… the-

Healer?

It was impossible to describe, the sensation of the Earth God's magic touching her, melding with her, infusing with her body, mind, heart and soul. Cirrus felt like she was enlightened, like there was something new filling her, replacing that which had crumpled, blown away into an abyss. She was not completed, for the gap in her soul where Sitka should be sitting would always be there - but the broken, battered pieces were fewer, they were… they were… gone. Her body shuddered as the sensation rolled over her, as her nerves felt alive again, as numbness was overthrown by the tingling caresses of the breeze stroking her mane, her nostrils overpowered by the scents of life and magic, her eyes open and beholding within their tear-filled, glistening depths, the kind, wise façade of the Earth God.

She would always miss Sitka, she would never be complete without him, but she would live, she would live on now and she would heal.

"I.. thank you, m'Lord." Cirrus blinked at the tears that fought to drip free of her eyelids, letting one or two fall before swallowing back the rush of emotion that flooded her. "I am sorry, for the wrong I did." There was no point denying her fault, to one who so easily saw all the perfections and imperfections of all creatures at all times. It was time Cirrus faced her faults, her imperfections, time she made amends - time she lived.

"I will do my best to learn how to use this gift. I.. if you would have me and my prayers, m'lord, seek your guidance, on how best to prove myself worthy of it."