09-13-2016, 12:58 PM
BUT HOW COULD YOU KNOW THE SWEETEST SUFFERING
OF MOVING ON
OF MOVING ON
That voice.
He knows it so well and yet the origin seems so distant in the reach of his memory. Tiphon blinks slowly, thoughtfully, before his eyes lift to see Joscelin cutting through the crowd like a knife. When she shouts his stomach clenches and his mind reels. He whispers her name and savors it before stepping toward her and pulling her into an embrace. His wings – as foreign and weak as they are – reach and try to hold her tightly. A rattled breath is drawn in and his face buries into her neck. ”Joscelin,” to say it again while holding her makes it tangible and the memories of her childhood suddenly play over for the first time in years. ”I was worried about you,” his admits when his head lifts away from the softness of her skin. His gaze sweeps carefully over her and take pause on her own wings. ”It’s odd to see you with those,” he manages a chuckle despite the lump in his throat.
”I had asked about you when I visited the Jungle, but it was right before all of this” and he turns his body to imply this virgin world, ”happened.” His heart had sank when the sisterhood couldn’t remember when they saw her last, when they confessed that she had been absent. Joscelin is – and always will be – a favored child of his, a prodigy that he has often boasted about. She is a beautiful combination of her parents, a tribute to her mother’s own elegance.
Oh, how he misses Elysteria.
Her absence claws at him day after day, but he hasn’t yet lost hope. Perhaps she will return to him again and they will be reunited as they always are. If – and he surely hopes not – he has seen Elysteria for the last time, at least he can look upon their daughter and see her in Joscelin’s eyes. ”My daughter, where do you live now? Please tell me you have a place to rest your head besides this place. I don’t yet trust this new world.” He wants to shield her, to always protect her, but he feels so feeble now. His body has dulled and he is just a mere shell of what he was, but his heart is at least still intact.
He knows it so well and yet the origin seems so distant in the reach of his memory. Tiphon blinks slowly, thoughtfully, before his eyes lift to see Joscelin cutting through the crowd like a knife. When she shouts his stomach clenches and his mind reels. He whispers her name and savors it before stepping toward her and pulling her into an embrace. His wings – as foreign and weak as they are – reach and try to hold her tightly. A rattled breath is drawn in and his face buries into her neck. ”Joscelin,” to say it again while holding her makes it tangible and the memories of her childhood suddenly play over for the first time in years. ”I was worried about you,” his admits when his head lifts away from the softness of her skin. His gaze sweeps carefully over her and take pause on her own wings. ”It’s odd to see you with those,” he manages a chuckle despite the lump in his throat.
”I had asked about you when I visited the Jungle, but it was right before all of this” and he turns his body to imply this virgin world, ”happened.” His heart had sank when the sisterhood couldn’t remember when they saw her last, when they confessed that she had been absent. Joscelin is – and always will be – a favored child of his, a prodigy that he has often boasted about. She is a beautiful combination of her parents, a tribute to her mother’s own elegance.
Oh, how he misses Elysteria.
Her absence claws at him day after day, but he hasn’t yet lost hope. Perhaps she will return to him again and they will be reunited as they always are. If – and he surely hopes not – he has seen Elysteria for the last time, at least he can look upon their daughter and see her in Joscelin’s eyes. ”My daughter, where do you live now? Please tell me you have a place to rest your head besides this place. I don’t yet trust this new world.” He wants to shield her, to always protect her, but he feels so feeble now. His body has dulled and he is just a mere shell of what he was, but his heart is at least still intact.
TIPHON
STARLACE AND INFECTION