06-28-2016, 08:24 PM
Darkness has been seeping into my dreams. It started as a flickering in the shadows, a shimmer at the edge of my awareness with no source, no name, no tangible connection to anything in the physical world. I have watched it grow, creeping slowly in and refusing to take shape. Now, I have never been one to fear the dark. I have danced with it far too often to let a little shadow send unease tingling down my spine, or to feel dread wrapping its icy fingers around my chest.
Still, I have kept a wary eye on that shadow even as I watch over what children of mine will permit it, even as I welcome a new son into the small family I have gathered back around myself – or as he welcomes me into his. I have watched the darkness out of the corner of my eye, bonding with my grandchildren and helping Tycho sort through the complicated tangle of emotions that is not his native language. It lingers even in the brightest moments, and I wonder if it isn't just a part of Beqanna, twisting our lives and our stories into something dark and desperate, raining desolation down on the unsuspecting. It began shortly after our return, after all.
Hmm. I will discuss it with Pazuzu in the morning, see what my new son-in-law makes of it. His gifts are different from mine, and perhaps he'll have some insight I do not. Either way, it would not hurt for another of our numbers to be aware of—a brush of gentle fingers along the back of my neck distracts me from my train of thought. Not a spirit, not exactly. I close my eyes, tracing the touch of those ghostly fingers as they linger on my shoulder for a moment, then beckon me to follow it beyond the veil that separates the living and the dead. Pleading, almost.
Opening my eyes, I glance around the forest my family has taken to calling home. Ryss and Pazuzu and Tycho, Drow and Arzhur and Dara, all safe and sound in their respective sleeping places. The touch is not blood of my blood; no bond of love or friendship connects us, but there was need in that touch, and I have no reason to refuse.
Settling my body down onto the ground, I nestle up against the trunk of an especially large oak tree to take advantage of the shelter it offers. I may not need this yellow and white splashed vessel right now, but there's no need for it to lie out and get covered in snow. Might as well be comfortable while I wander. I close my eyes and leave by body behind. Reaching out to that gentle touch, to the fingers stretched across the void, I take a stranger's hand and follow her into the dark.
When the darkness fades from my sight, I find myself standing before the stranger who invited me here. It's hardly my first time walking among the dead, but it has been a while since the last time I walked the afterlife of Beqanna. Hmm, a couple of decades, if I remember right. Long enough to reunite with my dead lover and make our last twins, two more pieces of our shattered love to drag back all unwilling to the land of the living.
It's fucking weird to be back.
“The lady has requested my presence?” The words I speak are oddly formal, sitting strangely in the air between us. “What do you need of me?” I make no promise to give it, but I will at least hear her out. I watch her through mismatched eyes, blue and gold studying the strange woman as I wait for her answer.
Still, I have kept a wary eye on that shadow even as I watch over what children of mine will permit it, even as I welcome a new son into the small family I have gathered back around myself – or as he welcomes me into his. I have watched the darkness out of the corner of my eye, bonding with my grandchildren and helping Tycho sort through the complicated tangle of emotions that is not his native language. It lingers even in the brightest moments, and I wonder if it isn't just a part of Beqanna, twisting our lives and our stories into something dark and desperate, raining desolation down on the unsuspecting. It began shortly after our return, after all.
Hmm. I will discuss it with Pazuzu in the morning, see what my new son-in-law makes of it. His gifts are different from mine, and perhaps he'll have some insight I do not. Either way, it would not hurt for another of our numbers to be aware of—a brush of gentle fingers along the back of my neck distracts me from my train of thought. Not a spirit, not exactly. I close my eyes, tracing the touch of those ghostly fingers as they linger on my shoulder for a moment, then beckon me to follow it beyond the veil that separates the living and the dead. Pleading, almost.
Opening my eyes, I glance around the forest my family has taken to calling home. Ryss and Pazuzu and Tycho, Drow and Arzhur and Dara, all safe and sound in their respective sleeping places. The touch is not blood of my blood; no bond of love or friendship connects us, but there was need in that touch, and I have no reason to refuse.
Settling my body down onto the ground, I nestle up against the trunk of an especially large oak tree to take advantage of the shelter it offers. I may not need this yellow and white splashed vessel right now, but there's no need for it to lie out and get covered in snow. Might as well be comfortable while I wander. I close my eyes and leave by body behind. Reaching out to that gentle touch, to the fingers stretched across the void, I take a stranger's hand and follow her into the dark.
When the darkness fades from my sight, I find myself standing before the stranger who invited me here. It's hardly my first time walking among the dead, but it has been a while since the last time I walked the afterlife of Beqanna. Hmm, a couple of decades, if I remember right. Long enough to reunite with my dead lover and make our last twins, two more pieces of our shattered love to drag back all unwilling to the land of the living.
It's fucking weird to be back.
“The lady has requested my presence?” The words I speak are oddly formal, sitting strangely in the air between us. “What do you need of me?” I make no promise to give it, but I will at least hear her out. I watch her through mismatched eyes, blue and gold studying the strange woman as I wait for her answer.