Who I am, Who I'm not [any]

[Osyva]

In the back of her mind, Osyva knew that her father was gone. She knew that if he were alive, he would find his way back to her: his beloved daughter. Still, she had left the Gates in search of him. Beqanna swallowed her whole, like it does so many others. She found magic in the Meadow, but it was not the same as what took Corvi that day. She found anger, and she found emptiness, but she could not find Him. For a time she wore the world’s cruelty like a scar across her back. She wore shame as if she were born of it. All she had ever known was lost to her. In dreams she joins her mother atop the Falls. They stand together, content with the rise and fall of each other’s breath. Stars litter the sky above them, and moonlight illuminates their pale skin, and drips from their chins. Osyva turns to her mother, the entire nebula ablaze within her eyes. “Where do we go when we die?” There is a sadness that nearly kills her childlike curiosity, but in her dreams her mother is still with her. In her dreams there is still an inkling of innocence left within her. Osyva already knows the answer to her question. Her father had been snapped into oblivion, and her mother had turned into a fish. Perhaps, you go wherever you want when you die. The slow trickle of early morning rain wakes her, and before she can blink she is soaked to the core. Water cuts paths through her mane the way her mother’s river cuts channels through her heart. Osyva seeks shelter beneath the boughs of the Mother Tree, and for a moment all seems right again. She has returned to her father’s home. The rain subsides as sunlight peeks from horizon. So long the time has stretched since she had sought the comfort of the Mother Tree. She is, perhaps, a little surprised that the old Mother had not forgotten her, even when Osyva had forgotten herself. She relishes the small sliver of peace that returning here has offered her. But, there is something strange. A small dark figure rests along the banks of a small pool, not far from the knoll her father had disappeared from. Osyva nickers softly before approaching. “Are you alright?” She asks quietly, the crack in her voice evident that she hasn’t spoken in some time.