Ea
03-22-2023, 06:24 PM
Being back in the Dale was easier than she had expected. Sure, there were endless memories, everywhere she turned: this part of the meadow was where she’d first met Ramiel, as children. This clump of trees is where she had told him she would stay, for him. These bushes are ones Sela always popped out of to startle her, then she would throw her head back laughing. This hill is where they would sleep, intertwined, even as their family grew with every child: Sela, Kha, Sabrael.
Before, she would’ve shoved the memories down, pushed the sadness and hurt away until she felt nothing.
Once, she had been a weapon. Sharp and lethal.
But now she has been blunted, smoothed, by age and death and love and time. It had only taken a hundred years.
Since returning to the Dale, she’d found herself a bit restless, unsure of what to do, so most of the time she found herself exploring — maybe this side of the forest would give her an answer. Maybe this rocky climb would tell her what to do. So far, she’d been unsuccessful.
Although largely prefers to keep to herself, the lake had still always been her favorite. Somehow, it was even more beautiful than she remembers, clear and blue and inviting. It had once been a meeting place, likely because of this and its proximity to the land’s lowest border.
As the sun sets on another day of restless exploration, Ea finds herself heading to the lake for one last drink before she settles elsewhere for the night. She breaks through the trees into the opening and sees out of the corner of her eye a glowing white figure. She stops, turning to fully look at it, and finds herself surprised that it’s another mare and not some light sent by the fairies for who-knows-why. The mare is a newcomer, clearly, as she’s looking around, seemingly searching for someone while she moves towards the lake.
Ea continues on her path, and as they both get closer to the lake, she calls out a greeting. “Hello,” she says while continuing to walk, until she wades into a shallow edge of the water, knee-deep on her smaller frame. “I’m Ea. Are you looking for someone? There’s hardly anyone else here but,” she pauses, both wanting to offer her help and also knowing the other mare may not want a busybody’s assistance. Instead, she leaves her sentence hanging.
Before, she would’ve shoved the memories down, pushed the sadness and hurt away until she felt nothing.
Once, she had been a weapon. Sharp and lethal.
But now she has been blunted, smoothed, by age and death and love and time. It had only taken a hundred years.
Since returning to the Dale, she’d found herself a bit restless, unsure of what to do, so most of the time she found herself exploring — maybe this side of the forest would give her an answer. Maybe this rocky climb would tell her what to do. So far, she’d been unsuccessful.
Although largely prefers to keep to herself, the lake had still always been her favorite. Somehow, it was even more beautiful than she remembers, clear and blue and inviting. It had once been a meeting place, likely because of this and its proximity to the land’s lowest border.
As the sun sets on another day of restless exploration, Ea finds herself heading to the lake for one last drink before she settles elsewhere for the night. She breaks through the trees into the opening and sees out of the corner of her eye a glowing white figure. She stops, turning to fully look at it, and finds herself surprised that it’s another mare and not some light sent by the fairies for who-knows-why. The mare is a newcomer, clearly, as she’s looking around, seemingly searching for someone while she moves towards the lake.
Ea continues on her path, and as they both get closer to the lake, she calls out a greeting. “Hello,” she says while continuing to walk, until she wades into a shallow edge of the water, knee-deep on her smaller frame. “I’m Ea. Are you looking for someone? There’s hardly anyone else here but,” she pauses, both wanting to offer her help and also knowing the other mare may not want a busybody’s assistance. Instead, she leaves her sentence hanging.
AND I KNOW NONE OF THIS WILL MATTER IN THE LONG RUN,
BUT I KNOW A SOUND IS STILL A SOUND AROUND NO ONE
BUT I KNOW A SOUND IS STILL A SOUND AROUND NO ONE