Rae has heard no whispers of her mother or her father, but then again, had she truly expected to? Perhaps she hoped that their memories would be burned in someone’s memory, that someone could offer her the truth of them that she was never granted. Perhaps never knowing the truth is a mercy though. Would she prefer to find that her mother was a killer, a monster, rather than the shining warrior Rae believed her to be?
Though in truth, she didn’t believe Draconis had lied to her, and she imagined the stories she knew and the truth were not horribly different. Rae simply longed for the details, longed to know of her grandparents and her family and her cousins. Did they exist? Did her mother have siblings? She knew none of this, and likely, never would.
“My parents were from here too, and I am not. I can understand that,” she says, finding common ground in this. “Everything has changed. New lands. New faces. Even magic here has shifted. I don’t quite know how to explain it, but it doesn’t feel like the place I was born.” Even the sky feels different to her here than she recalls, though perhaps her memory is simply imperfect and warped. It wouldn’t surprise her, the memory of a child often something rather imperfect.
“I’m trying to figure it out too,” she offers, the only olive branch she really knows how to extend. They are alike in this, at least. “I have never truly lived anywhere but in the clouds.” She still wasn’t sure she was capable of anything else.
@[annapurna] Wow I missed this reply - sorry girl!