03-30-2020, 12:59 AM
she fell for the idea of him
and ideas were a dangerous thing to love
and ideas were a dangerous thing to love
There is so much of herself – or a past version of herself, at least – that she sees in the gray mare. The ghosts that swim in her eyes, the veil of loneliness that hangs around her like fog; that lingering hope that it isn’t going to last forever. That is what draws her to her more than anything, but it is the feeling of nostalgia that kept her here.
It was a difficult thing to place, but there was a kind of magic that seemed to follow those that existed over a hundred years ago. That was a different Beqanna, and though Ryatah was learning to love this new era (a lie – she missed everything about days long gone, it was only because she has filled her life with so many distractions that she is able to exist in a false sort of contentment), she could not help but to look for those that would remember the time before.
“I know that feeling,” she says with a short laugh, and a wistful smile. “You’d be surprised, though. No one ever really seems to leave Beqanna. You probably know more than you realize.” The smile turns into a sympathetic one, and as she adjusts her gold-tipped wings she settles in alongside her newfound companion. She is prepared to continue along the path she had been traveling, ready to settle into the easy flow of small talk that accompanied meeting strangers – something she rarely did anymore.
But she says her name, and it calls to a long-lost memory that rested forgotten in the back of her mind. “Chasity?” She repeats, testing it on her tongue as if that will help her remember. The name reminds her of forgotten kingdoms and discarded crowns, of valleys and dales and chambers that would never exist again. There is a spark of realization that lights in her eyes, and her smile finds a new radiance when she says, “You were queen of the falls. I remember you.” She laughs again, shaking her head and continuing apologetically, “Ryatah. I was queen of the dale for a time, but I looked much different back then.” She had still been vibrantly porcelain, but with those dark, scarred sockets that kept her from ever being conventionally beautiful; not like now, where beauty radiated from every part of her, but inside, she is sure she’s never been uglier. “Welcome back. You’ll find things are very….different.”
It was a difficult thing to place, but there was a kind of magic that seemed to follow those that existed over a hundred years ago. That was a different Beqanna, and though Ryatah was learning to love this new era (a lie – she missed everything about days long gone, it was only because she has filled her life with so many distractions that she is able to exist in a false sort of contentment), she could not help but to look for those that would remember the time before.
“I know that feeling,” she says with a short laugh, and a wistful smile. “You’d be surprised, though. No one ever really seems to leave Beqanna. You probably know more than you realize.” The smile turns into a sympathetic one, and as she adjusts her gold-tipped wings she settles in alongside her newfound companion. She is prepared to continue along the path she had been traveling, ready to settle into the easy flow of small talk that accompanied meeting strangers – something she rarely did anymore.
But she says her name, and it calls to a long-lost memory that rested forgotten in the back of her mind. “Chasity?” She repeats, testing it on her tongue as if that will help her remember. The name reminds her of forgotten kingdoms and discarded crowns, of valleys and dales and chambers that would never exist again. There is a spark of realization that lights in her eyes, and her smile finds a new radiance when she says, “You were queen of the falls. I remember you.” She laughs again, shaking her head and continuing apologetically, “Ryatah. I was queen of the dale for a time, but I looked much different back then.” She had still been vibrantly porcelain, but with those dark, scarred sockets that kept her from ever being conventionally beautiful; not like now, where beauty radiated from every part of her, but inside, she is sure she’s never been uglier. “Welcome back. You’ll find things are very….different.”
ryatah
your writing is beautiful, hush <3