12-17-2018, 10:02 AM
BUT HOW COULD YOU KNOW THE SWEETEST SUFFERING
OF MOVING ON
OF MOVING ON
”You’re beautiful like one!” His voice is exuberant, planting life into Joscelin’s uncertainty as she looks over her shoulder to observe the cracks jaggedly tracing down her body. ”Reality here is keeping you trapped – maybe even warping your memory, like me!” But Tiphon knows he isn’t a star; he is something else, something foreign to the eyes of this Beqanna. There have been others who stare at him as though he doesn’t belong, like he is a transcended ethereal being.
But then there have been others who perceive him as familiar, as someone who has played a role in Beqanna’s rebirth.
Like Joscelin, he is lost.
”A pleasure to meet you,” if only he realized that this is his daughter, that she is another piece of his soul that he has forgotten in the madness. He would embrace her if he could and reassure her that everything will be okay, but alas, they haven’t met, it seems. They do not recognize each other – not like Wallace recognized him – and so the possibilities are drained from his reeling thoughts so that he may finally answer her questions that rest idle in the space between them. ”No, it isn’t safe,” his voice lowers as though the disease will find them by sound alone rather than by the air they breathe. ”But,” he adds as she wonders where he lives, ”I have a home that is safe from this epidemic. I can take you there, my star, and hopefully keep you safe from this awful plague.” Unfortunately, he has risked his own wellbeing by abandoning its shores to venture the mainland, but his symptoms are suppressed by his own magic swimming through his veins. ”The Island Resort, it is called. Join me. There is a woman there that recognizes me from years ago and a grandson of mine I didn’t know existed. Maybe they can help you, too.”
Maybe their puzzle pieces can find each other, little by little.
But then there have been others who perceive him as familiar, as someone who has played a role in Beqanna’s rebirth.
Like Joscelin, he is lost.
”A pleasure to meet you,” if only he realized that this is his daughter, that she is another piece of his soul that he has forgotten in the madness. He would embrace her if he could and reassure her that everything will be okay, but alas, they haven’t met, it seems. They do not recognize each other – not like Wallace recognized him – and so the possibilities are drained from his reeling thoughts so that he may finally answer her questions that rest idle in the space between them. ”No, it isn’t safe,” his voice lowers as though the disease will find them by sound alone rather than by the air they breathe. ”But,” he adds as she wonders where he lives, ”I have a home that is safe from this epidemic. I can take you there, my star, and hopefully keep you safe from this awful plague.” Unfortunately, he has risked his own wellbeing by abandoning its shores to venture the mainland, but his symptoms are suppressed by his own magic swimming through his veins. ”The Island Resort, it is called. Join me. There is a woman there that recognizes me from years ago and a grandson of mine I didn’t know existed. Maybe they can help you, too.”
Maybe their puzzle pieces can find each other, little by little.
TIPHON
STARLACE AND INFECTION
@[Joscelin]
Sorry for the wait!