03-20-2022, 02:51 PM
poseida—
She cut her teeth on her mother’s sacrifice.
And she had understood from such a young age that nothing, not even she, could wedge itself between her mother and her duty. (Perhaps it is this she admires most about her mother, her allegiance to Baltia, to the Queen.)
But this does not stop her from missing her mother. No, pride is no substitute for her company.
(Is this a weakness? A daughter’s yearning for the warmth of her mother’s company? She doesn’t know, Poseida, but she never lends it a voice for fear that it might be and what is worse than weakness? She can think of nothing.)
She has no obligation like her mother’s obligation, so she lists in the current, lets it carry her wherever it might. (How divine it is to be weightless, she thinks, and remembers how Mesarez had said there was a whole world above them but she does not care to see it.)
It is by chance that she passes the coral garden, by chance that she catches sight of her mother there. And she smiles, stirs herself into purposeful motion, and glides through the water until she is near enough to be heard.
“Mother,” she says, dark eyes glinting in what little light filters in from above, “how are you?”
And she had understood from such a young age that nothing, not even she, could wedge itself between her mother and her duty. (Perhaps it is this she admires most about her mother, her allegiance to Baltia, to the Queen.)
But this does not stop her from missing her mother. No, pride is no substitute for her company.
(Is this a weakness? A daughter’s yearning for the warmth of her mother’s company? She doesn’t know, Poseida, but she never lends it a voice for fear that it might be and what is worse than weakness? She can think of nothing.)
She has no obligation like her mother’s obligation, so she lists in the current, lets it carry her wherever it might. (How divine it is to be weightless, she thinks, and remembers how Mesarez had said there was a whole world above them but she does not care to see it.)
It is by chance that she passes the coral garden, by chance that she catches sight of her mother there. And she smiles, stirs herself into purposeful motion, and glides through the water until she is near enough to be heard.
“Mother,” she says, dark eyes glinting in what little light filters in from above, “how are you?”
—i came from the sea,
from the arms of the waves
@Rezza