I watch my family fade into the distance, not one of them looking back to check on me. Maybe they don’t know yet that I can’t follow. Maybe in the rush of finding a place to call home, they don’t notice that I’m not with them. But not one of them looks back, not even my dad, and I try not to let my heart break a little bit at the way he’s caught up in everyone else and in going home and doesn’t see that he’s leaving me behind.
I’m happy for them. I am. Even if sadness is welling up in my chest and trying to drown me, even if it’s quenching the fire that wants to flicker and dance along my skin even though every time it does it sears through me, white-hot and agonizing. The fire has always been my friend. And it’s still trying to be. Not your fault, fire-friend, I think, letting the pain crash through me so that the fire can lick along my skin and say hello.
It won’t last long. And I’ve missed it so.
The pain has tears rolling down my face, trailing down my cheeks to splash against the snow at my feet as I slowly start to descend the mountain once again. And I tell myself that’s the only reason I’m crying, that the fire is the only thing that hurts. That it’s the only thing making me want to open my mouth and let agony pour out in a scream that echoes across the mountainside.
Except the tears don’t stop even when I cross the invisible line that steals away my fire and leaves wings in its place. I spread those wings, all red-tipped black and lovely and finally starting to feel like mine, and I take to the sky. I’m not going to walk the rest of the way down if I don’t have to, whether the mountain and the god that dwells there like it or not.
It’s not long until I’m back in the forest, the closest thing to a home I have now that I’m cursed to wander. At least my dad’s happy. He’s got his home, and he’s got his Mari, and his...his four other kids. He’ll be fine without me. He begged and he groveled; he called himself sinful and unworthy, he played the game, and Beqanna gave him everything he wanted.
I’m happy for that last part at least, even if it’s pretty sick the way she made him dance, made them all dance like puppets on strings, made them feel like they were wrong and bad and wicked, and then gave them presents and showered them with love to reward them for their good behavior. It wouldn’t be okay for a boy to treat me like that. I don’t see why it should be any different just because it’s a god doing the damage.
But he did what I guess he had to do, to find a safe place to raise the rest of his kids. To be close to his wife. I wonder if she’s still supposed to be my mama now, or if since she never really got to meet me, maybe she’s just...somebody that I almost knew. Somebody that was almost family, once upon a time. She’s got her own babies now, and Dad’s other twins, maybe a mom is just something I’m not meant to have.
Maybe home and family are more things I’m just not meant to have.
Okay. Enough. I take a deep breath, and as I slowly let it out, I push away all the sad and the hurt and the lonely feeling that’s trying to swallow me up from the inside, trying to hollow out my chest and settle into the place where my heart’s supposed to be safest. Just because I can’t go home doesn’t mean I have to be all by myself, and it doesn’t mean I can’t find a nice cozy spot to call kind of home for now.
I wander through the forest, trying to keep to the shelter of the bigger, older trees. And I find one that looks kind of promising, even, a willow with big drapey branches and a wide, happy base that looks perfect for cuddling up against, though really it’s hard to tell the shape of the ground beneath the snow. Still, I give it a shot, curling up against the trunk of the tree and squirming a little ‘til I get comfortable. Someone will come around sooner or later. I hope. And in the meantime...maybe losing myself in sleep for a little while will ease the ache in my chest a bit. Or at least let me forget it for a few minutes.
I rest my head on my front legs and close my eyes, and try to fall asleep. And when that fails, I just lie with my eyes closed, hoping maybe I'm already sleeping and I'll wake up to find this was all some awful nightmare and Dad's just waiting for me to wake up so we can go climb the mountain and maybe find ourselves a home.
I’m happy for them. I am. Even if sadness is welling up in my chest and trying to drown me, even if it’s quenching the fire that wants to flicker and dance along my skin even though every time it does it sears through me, white-hot and agonizing. The fire has always been my friend. And it’s still trying to be. Not your fault, fire-friend, I think, letting the pain crash through me so that the fire can lick along my skin and say hello.
It won’t last long. And I’ve missed it so.
The pain has tears rolling down my face, trailing down my cheeks to splash against the snow at my feet as I slowly start to descend the mountain once again. And I tell myself that’s the only reason I’m crying, that the fire is the only thing that hurts. That it’s the only thing making me want to open my mouth and let agony pour out in a scream that echoes across the mountainside.
Except the tears don’t stop even when I cross the invisible line that steals away my fire and leaves wings in its place. I spread those wings, all red-tipped black and lovely and finally starting to feel like mine, and I take to the sky. I’m not going to walk the rest of the way down if I don’t have to, whether the mountain and the god that dwells there like it or not.
It’s not long until I’m back in the forest, the closest thing to a home I have now that I’m cursed to wander. At least my dad’s happy. He’s got his home, and he’s got his Mari, and his...his four other kids. He’ll be fine without me. He begged and he groveled; he called himself sinful and unworthy, he played the game, and Beqanna gave him everything he wanted.
I’m happy for that last part at least, even if it’s pretty sick the way she made him dance, made them all dance like puppets on strings, made them feel like they were wrong and bad and wicked, and then gave them presents and showered them with love to reward them for their good behavior. It wouldn’t be okay for a boy to treat me like that. I don’t see why it should be any different just because it’s a god doing the damage.
But he did what I guess he had to do, to find a safe place to raise the rest of his kids. To be close to his wife. I wonder if she’s still supposed to be my mama now, or if since she never really got to meet me, maybe she’s just...somebody that I almost knew. Somebody that was almost family, once upon a time. She’s got her own babies now, and Dad’s other twins, maybe a mom is just something I’m not meant to have.
Maybe home and family are more things I’m just not meant to have.
Okay. Enough. I take a deep breath, and as I slowly let it out, I push away all the sad and the hurt and the lonely feeling that’s trying to swallow me up from the inside, trying to hollow out my chest and settle into the place where my heart’s supposed to be safest. Just because I can’t go home doesn’t mean I have to be all by myself, and it doesn’t mean I can’t find a nice cozy spot to call kind of home for now.
I wander through the forest, trying to keep to the shelter of the bigger, older trees. And I find one that looks kind of promising, even, a willow with big drapey branches and a wide, happy base that looks perfect for cuddling up against, though really it’s hard to tell the shape of the ground beneath the snow. Still, I give it a shot, curling up against the trunk of the tree and squirming a little ‘til I get comfortable. Someone will come around sooner or later. I hope. And in the meantime...maybe losing myself in sleep for a little while will ease the ache in my chest a bit. Or at least let me forget it for a few minutes.
I rest my head on my front legs and close my eyes, and try to fall asleep. And when that fails, I just lie with my eyes closed, hoping maybe I'm already sleeping and I'll wake up to find this was all some awful nightmare and Dad's just waiting for me to wake up so we can go climb the mountain and maybe find ourselves a home.