not until we are lost
do we begin to find ourselves
There was peace for a while. Or as much peace as Rhy has ever known. But there was something that felt wrong. Like an itch she couldn’t scratch. Holes in her memory cropped up, inconsistencies ran rampant in her life. She ignored them though for the sun of the Deserts, for the nearness of Kratos. Perhaps, in some way, she let herself forget. Let herself forget Lagertha and Kora and her parents. Let herself forget her responsibilities, forget who she was. And in some small way, she became someone else. Someone with too many ghosts, someone who was a shadow of herself. But in the end, it never mattered. Like always, in the end, she lost it all.
The raid comes and goes. Yael’s magic backfires. Kratos – her Kratos – crumbles before her eyes. She doesn’t know it then, but he’s not just leaving her behind. Yael disappears, and so too does the magic holding Rhy’s memories at bay. It all comes back in a flood. The realization of everything she had lost. Lagertha, flicked away to some other dimension by magic. Draconis, who Rhy left behind when her memories disappeared. How much time had passed? How much had she missed?
Rhy couldn’t say if her sister was alive. But her parents were gone. Everything, everything was gone. Kratos, her parents, the Deserts. The only thing left was the Jungle now, and how could she go back? How could she face the life she had forgotten. Yes, magic had taken her memory, but she’d let the magic win. Perhaps she could have recovered. Perhaps she could have followed the gaps in her memory till it all came back. But she never did, and she didn’t know how to face home.
She didn’t know if she had a home.
Instead, she took refuge in beach in much the same way as Kora had hidden in the North so long ago. This is where it all went wrong. That quest. Flashes of Gail and Carnage come back to her here, and she wonders why she ever answered that call. Ever since, she has lived with one foot on each side of the line between life and death.
Soon, she know's she’s pregnant. The knowledge washes away all thoughts of staying in the afterlife forever. She will live, for her child, if nothing else. Or children, perhaps. Her womb is a storm, cracked with lightning and howling wind. It's good, for once, that she has the powers she does. Most likely, most other mares would not survive the torrent that so often rages inside her.
As always though, in Rhy’s life, when she finds the will to go on, the world steals it away. Beqanna comes to them, reprimanding them for their greed and their selfishness. But this time she doesn’t just flood a land – she takes it all. When Rhy swims back to conciousness, she’s on the top of a mountain. There are so many others around, but she hardly notices them. No, she cannot stay, cannot find those she’s failed, those she can no longer face. So she leaves, slipping down the mountain as fast as she can with her swollen barrel.
Then it hits her. Wherever that magical line is, exactly, she doesn’t know. What she knows is her powers are gone. There’s no electric in her veins, no ghost or lion lurking beneath the surface of her skin. She is nothing. It is unbelievable. It is amazing. It is freeing in a way she has never known.
And it will kill her. As all glorious moments are, this too was short. No longer than a flash of lightning. A timeline she knows all too well.
The twins powers are slower to fade. They rage inside her, a hurricane. It tears at her womb, and she knows it’s not long before she will have to give birth. The contractions start, the trauma too much for her body to bear now. It is all she can do to get to the beach, though she keeps herself just on the border. She can hear the ocean, but she cannot smell death. As it is, her children will enter this world staring death in the face. She does not need to show them anymore.
Oh, her children. There’d only ever been one other, and not by blood. Though it had never mattered. “Draconis.” The name slips through her lips, though she doubts there is anyone around to hear. The hope is foolish, but still, Rhy finds herself wishing her other child would find her now. But why would Draconis be here, in the place where only Rhy would deign to live and others died?
The storm inside her has ceased, their powers stripped as hers were, but the damage cannot be undone. There are no healers in this world. No magical waters. She strains with the contractions, her coat already lathered in sweat. Time passes, and she cannot know how much, but it doesn’t matter. The boy comes first, buckskin as Riagan had been, splashed with white. The girl is second, harder with Rhy’s failing strength. She panics during the birth, afraid she will not live long enough to see it through. But finally, the girl slips free. Splashed with white as well, but solid brown unlike the boy.
She's careful as she moves, staying on the ground but shifting so she can clean them. “Kry,” she mutters as she cleans the boy. After a few moments, she shifts to the girl, adding, “Rae.” Would Kratos approve of the names? Was he watching them now? Did he know they had two beautiful, healthy children?
Children that would never know their father, though the boy is named for him. Children that would never know their mother. They would not remember this moment. It is too fleeting, too short. And for the first time, she does not want to go. For the first time, she is alive and she is happy and she is love. Pure, impossible love.
And for the first time, she cannot stay.
She doesn’t know what damage the storm inside her wrought. What she knows is that her children will grow up without anyone. She thinks of Riagan and Rayelle. Of the way they smiled. Of the way Riagan, in their short year together, taught her to use her electric. Of the burns on his hide he took from her. Who would teach her children, if their powers ever returned? She doesn’t know exactly what they are, but together, she knows they are a hurricane. It raged in her womb for months. Their powers were her end, but they would be their beginning. Together, she imagines they would be unstoppable. Even more than their parents once were.
She thinks of Kora and her fear of electric, and so, Rhy. She hopes the same won’t be true of her children, but they already seem too close for that. They both try to stand, though Rhy stays on the ground. They poke each other when they fall, both a silent encouragement and a bit of a tease. A smile lights Rhy’s face. “I will watch you, sweet children.” They look to her with confusion on their tiny little faces. She remembers the moment Kora first hugged Rhy. She remembers telling her of their parent’s death, of visiting their parents together. She remembers that bond, when finally forged, and knows how strong it can be.
“We both love you, even if you won’t ever know it. But I hope you will believe it all your lives.” Her voice is faint and tired, fading. Somewhere in the distance, she thinks she can see them. Riagan and Rayelle, waiting for her to come home. Because in some ways, death has been her home ever since she failed to save Gail. Kratos, proud and looming large, as he always does, a wild look in his eyes. Something she always interpreted as his version of love. It had been a wild, electric love.
“I hope you have as much as I did, my children.” She had lost it all, and it broke her heart time and time again. But then, she should count herself lucky. She’d had so much to lose. Her children stare at her, puzzled. Though also sad, as if they understand the meaning of her whispered voice but not the meaning of the words. As if they understand why their mother is still on the ground when they stand. She smiles, her vision blurred blood loss and tears. The world sways, and for a moment, she thinks she sees Draconis in the distance. But she cannot tell if the fire-breathing girl is waiting for her on the other side. Rr if she was alive and somehow, impossibly, here.
In the end, it doesn’t matter, as so many other things have no mattered. Rhy will not live long enough to know. Her eyes flutter closed, her breathing slows until finally, it no longer comes.
For a brief, beautiful moment, she was alive. For a brief, beautiful moment, she was powerless, and she was herself with her children by her side. For a brief, beautiful moment, the world was perfect. Until the moment burned away. Too bright, too glorious, to last longer than a flash of lighting.
April 3, 2014 – September 4, 2016
Daughter of Riagan and Raylle
Twin to Kora, sister to Leander
Mother to Draconis, Kry, and Rae
Once Erinak and Ville of the Jungle
rhy
the electric lioness of riagan and rayelle
@[Draconis]