09-10-2021, 04:26 PM
selaphiel
Fear that someone will come for him, send him away.
Because he has overstayed his welcome.
Because Mazikeen had made it clear that they were no longer friends.
And so he drifts and he feels no guilt for it now. Because Este no longer reeks of death and their mother has moved onto other things and the world spins madly on while he seems to stay rooted in one place.
There is nowhere for him to go. He is a thing meant to be left behind. Life does not unravel for him the same way it unravels for the others. It is a stagnant thing and he listens to the heart voice its same old worries as he wanders through the forest again. It is such an insistent thing, the heart, and he lets it carry him through the undergrowth, into the darkness where the sun does not shine as bright.
(Because he was a thing made in the darkness, a thing made for darkness, and he still has not gotten used to the harshness of the sun.)
It stops him short, the warmth that finds him and he exhales a shuddering breath, casting a cursory glance into the shadows around him. And he sees her then, just as he had seen her the first time, glowing softly and he remembers.
He remembers how brash he had been, stumbling through the underbrush, asking her if she was frightened, asking her what death followed her. The warmth settles in his chest and he takes one shuffling step toward her, careful, slow, but does not allow himself to get any closer than that.
“I remember you,” he says and tilts his head. They are older now. They had only been children then. “Please don’t go.”
I just bite my tongue a bit harder
