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12-03-2016, 07:09 PM
The shouting, the screaming, the banshee wails were a summons she couldn’t ignore – she knew the echo of their tones, the rumble of their growls, the siren who beckoned them all to show and face down the fringes of their failures. The Songbird and her kitsune arrived only just after ensuring Roland was secure, back within the strong, forged mountains where the walls seemingly shook with absolute rage – and perhaps they’d all been slowly falling apart, and Lena had been too busy unraveling from her own sentiments to see it all leisurely fraying. One thread seemed to snap, then another, and another, toppling an entire tapestry, a beautiful oeuvre, a masterful opus into something like this: a fragile line of souls, all maligned, all exhausted, all defeated. She looked around and glanced towards those she knew and trusted and cherished: Johnny, awakened from wherever he’d been left, wondrous Tiamat proffering her services, the prince pledging his arms, the fairy Thief, and the unknown inhabitants too, praying they’d survive the maelstrom. A part of her knew they would – because they’d withstood so many things far worse than withering occupants and the din of desolation (they’d seen monsters spring from friends, demons wage war, gods fall, perish, and die). It was just one more pinnacle of weakness, one more obstacle to conquer and defeat. So she spoke, proud and strong and poignant, granting her melodies and harmonies from the side, maneuvering closer and closer to her leaders until she stood yards before them, bowing her head, then raising it to a refined, regal splendor. “The Basin has known far greater perils, and we have overcome them. I’m sure we’ll be able to prevail again.” We always have, she wanted to add, but the confidence, the certainty in her stance, in her heart, would pervade and court just the same; a blissful thread of tunes soothing the ruffled feathers, the spread of sedition before it could truly begin. She continued, on a spark, on a whim, polishing the semblance of healer orchestrations. “The greenhouse has slowly been filled with many of our herbs, and I intend to gather more as spring approaches. Please, let me know if you need me for anything.” I want to help, her mouth provided in silent prayers and reverence for a land she’d always cherished, always loved. But I put it out of my mind long enough to call it courage To live without a lifeline |
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